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yanderenightmare · 6 months

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Meaner callous Gojo with cursed spirit darling pleeease :(

Gojo Satoru

TW: slight NSFW, noncon/dubcon, blood/gore, death of curses, abduction and captivity, mentions of previously maltreated captives and their deaths

gn reader

“Huh? I didn’t see you.” The man with the white hair said casually, holding a drippy head by the scruff of their scalp – having torn it clean off the body that now lay gushing in a pool of its own sticky red insides. Still warm but lifeless.

You’d been hiding amongst the other remains. Your mind struggling to cope with the chaos surrounding you, so lost that the thought of running away hadn’t even had the time to surface yet – having left you wading around in the blood and guts aimlessly – soaked through and through with death and chilled to your own weary brittle bones.

The end was imminent, and you couldn’t wrap any of your thoughts together to either accept or deny it.

He dropped the head in his fist with an unceremonious splash and took long strides – in front of you sooner than you could bat an eye, much less crawl away or decide if you were going to try and fight him off before it was too late – before he had his long fingers curled around your throat, lifting you up off your feet.

“No wonder~” He laughed. “You’re so weak; I couldn’t sense your cursed energy at all~”

He was frivolous while you cacked for air, kicking your feet beneath you, trying to pry his hand from your neck with such weak effort it was pitiful to watch.

And yet he remained unfazed by the pathetic struggle, only offering a slant of his head while eyeing you up and down – his orbs going from a stark neon to a simple sky blue as he released his technique. Holding you up simply with his own sheer strength.

“Hm…” He hummed then, tilting his head to the other side, now with a thoughtful pout on his lips. He brought his other hand up to rub his chin as though he was debating something. “Be a shame to kill you, really…”

You remained gasping for breath as he mused – but only for another short moment until you felt him pause in his squeezing, loosening the chokehold right before your head could squish free from the rest of your body.

“You’ll make such a pretty new trophy.”

He was smiling, but it was far from kind – though he let go of your throat entirely, letting you drop to your hands and knees, spluttering with coughs – staring at your own reflection in the crimson bath beneath you. Able to spot how terribly panicked you looked before you felt him loop an arm around your stomach – lifting you, then beaming the two of you away.

You’re still in shock when you’re dropped to a different floor someplace else only a moment later – and though the marble is much colder than the blood you’d been sitting in prior, it isn’t the reason you’re shaking. Rather, it’s the recurring flashes of fellow curses being leveled like trampled grapes – in the dozens by a single sorcerer who hadn’t even broken a sweat. One who’d bore a smile the entire time.

“Come on now, pretty curse-” The man dismissed, seemingly completely disconnected from the turmoil of your trauma. “Say hie to your new home~”

This time he grabbed you by your tunic, holding it by the neck as he dragged you along further into the room with him until he sat down on a plush sofa there – pulling you into his lap to straddle him.

You didn’t resist – you didn’t do anything – shell-shocked into a plaint stillness while struggling to accept the truth behind all the stickiness that had your skin coated and shivering with growing cold.

His face was also splattered with different shades – some red, some blue, some purple. You wonder what shade yours was with a tremble in your throat as he reached out to thumb your chin, angling it as he got in close with his lips tugged in a grin.

“The last pet I kept ended up dying of hunger. It didn’t behave right, so I had to starve it.” He revealed – bright eyes gleaming – rendering you further scrambled in thought, unable to grasp what he was saying or that he was even talking to you.

You just blinked blankly in return.

“Can you talk? Or are you an even weaker curse than I thought?” He asked then – cocking his head down and sideways – leering up at you with an eerie twinkle that made you tense with a small whimper.

You hiccupped, lip quivering – suddenly reeled back to reality by the bite of his blunt nails digging into the soft flesh of your hips. “Uhm- I…” Your voice was weak in your throat, breaking before it amounted to much more, feeling so thin under his heavy gaze while he peered at you without blinking. “I talk…” was all you were able to squeak out in the end.

“Oh- good. I was afraid you couldn’t understand me. But I see~ you’re just in shock ‘cause I obliterated all your friends.” His smile widened, and you paled even more in light of it.

Swallowing thickly. Now with the numbness of the shock finally dying down, you were allowed to process your fear more entirely – resulting in tears welling and running down your cheeks in quick rivulets – breaths picking up speed until they tripped into each other on their way free.

“Oh- don’t cry~” He chuckled, watching you break down – your swiveled eyes looking at your blood-soaked hands, trembling at the sight.

He ran his hand up from your chin to cup your face, his smile tugged into a toothy smirk – amused by your meltdown – and even happier when your eyes snapped to return his, glistening with fear and the blitz of panic.

“Be a good little curse for me, and I won’t hurt you like I did the others.” He offered suggestively, planting his forehead against yours while getting lost in that beautiful look riddling your face.

Completely relaxed and comfortable – flirty as he rubbed the small of your back almost soothingly, gliding up slowly beneath the fabric of your tunic. He used no pressure – being featherlight with fine fingertips – as though in mockery of how he’d easily reached in and torn hearts out of ribcages only a moment earlier.

You swallowed again. Feeling caged by the serene blue staring back at you.

“How… how do I do that?” You asked him timidly, and he marveled at how human you looked – chewing your bloated lip with such pretty misty eyes peeled at him.

You weren’t much of a curse at all, he thought with another laugh – licking his teeth at how obediently you sat in wait on his lap – more like a little animal than anything else – wounded in the hands of its hunter.

“Follow my lead.” He answered your question hotly, his eyes glinting with something playful but equally sick and sadistic as he stroked your lips with his blood-stained fingers – eagerly watching your little nose twitch at the scent while he pushed two of the digits onto the wet bed of your tongue. “Can you do that, pretty curse?”

You offered only an uneasy whimper, tasting the cursed blood with cinched brows.

It visibly aroused him, making his lips tug at the corners – leveling you with his keen stare as though daring you to do anything but submissively lick the fingers clean.

There’s always been something very sweetly satisfying about forcing a curse to please him. Due to them being purely selfish in nature, it becomes torture in and of itself to make them serve anyone other than themselves.

But strange as it was, observing you, he couldn’t decide if it pained you the same way he’d come to recognize after breaking his many previous pets…

Maybe you’re just a little slow on the uptake. You do seem a little confused, as though his cruelty has you asking yourself why at every turn instead of making you feel the normal rage that most curses fall instinctively to. They all always look at him with such searing hatred, but you’re just… he can’t exactly place the expression as you allow his fingers to rest on your tongue.

Suppose… well… you look as though you’re getting a little shy.

It's a funny thing to witness in a curse. It would have been normal if it were chagrin, but it doesn’t really have that temper to it.

“Wow~ I didn’t know curses could be this humble~” He drawled then, still playing with the wet warmth of your plushy tongue. “Most of you put up a fight- too proud to understand your own good.” He squinted his eyes, finding it more and more strange how you hadn’t tried to bite him yet – even as he split his digits like a scissor and traced the points of your teeth. “Guess you’re just better at knowing your place, huh?”

He withdrew from your mouth and dropped the hand to your collar – dancing the pale spit-slicken digits there as though to remind your throat of its former grip around it.

You flinched when he pulled you onto his bulge; breath caught in your throat and kept there as he pressed his smile onto your lips in a kiss.

His chest rumbled with something guttural, sighing into your mouth with rowdy hunger.

You fumbled, taken aback – but he followed until you accepted it. Then his hand ran further up your back, lifting your shirt on the way.

“Up with your hands~” He guided, and you, though trembling and confused, listened all the same – raising your arms so he could pull the article off over your head. “Good curse~” He purred – right before laying his tongue out flat on your newly exposed skin, licking along the blood stains on your chest.

You’d probably cringe if it didn’t horrify you first. How he moaned at the taste and strengthened his hold, grinding up into you with his hips – pressing you down against himself.

Lifting his head, he attacked your lips again and you allowed it, tasting the blood left on both your tongues as he pushed his inside along yours – exploring your mouth with sounds so hungry they made you whimper in return.

Your bottoms were ripped off suddenly, leaving you naked while cold fingers peppered over the fat of your hips until stationing themselves there firmly, carding into the plush and rolling you over his clothed bump. Hissing at the feel, he bit your lip. And while you whined from the sting it left, he tore open his jacket and wrung it off fast, tossing it somewhere behind you.

Beneath it, he revealed a pristine silk button-up – as white and shiny as his hair – looking out of place against the blood splatter on his skin.

“Come on, make yourself useful-” He groaned with heat, nodding suggestively to his chest, taking your hands and placing them close to his throat – again, as though trying to tempt you into doing something stupid.

But you ignore the bait, undoing the buttons instead of throttling his neck – as though the thought didn’t even cross your mind.

He kept you riding his crotch – his mouth going to your chest again, sucking your nipples into his mouth. Making your job hard, where your hands kept stilling with the need to clutch something.

But eventually, all his buttons were done up – opening to a firm torso of chiseled alabaster abs. No scars to prove he’d ever struggled. Just fair skin lacking a single lasting blemish.

“Like what you see?” He snickered lowly, having caught you staring.

You didn’t know what to say, but either way, any words were caught in your throat as he spun you on your back, bearing down on you with his hand returning to your neck.

He’d found it strange, but now he found it worrying. Vision clouded with heat though still trustworthy, he couldn't help but conclude that you weren’t going to fight him at all.

But that just didn’t make any sense.

“What makes you so eager to please, huh?” He asked then, a lilt in his voice as he crept closer – leaning until his bangs brushed your forehead. “What type of curse are you, exactly…”

You pressed your lips together, bowing your head – having dreaded the question.

“It’s embarrassing, I’d rather not say…” You tried, but the sorcerer wouldn’t allow it – holding you captive with his eyes.

“I wasn’t asking.”

You trembled some but had it on your tongue, and then he tightened the fist on your throat and squeezed the truth out of you.

“Weakness...” You finally let slip, feeling the humiliation tickle up your spine – making you goosefleshed where you lay naked beneath the all-powerful six-eyes whose stare only urged for more detail, compelling you to indulge him.

Your lip quivered but then gave in yet again.

“Made from the self-loathing of weaklings whose only method of survival is to manipulate the strong into pitying them.”

The shame of it made you go flushed.

“It’s... the life of a leach.” You balled your little fists and nibbled your lip. “It’s pathetic…”

It took a while for him to accept it – stunned by what a ridiculous type of curse you revealed yourself to be. But then he loosened his grip again like before, humming out a light chuckle he couldn’t help.

“You’re the only one I didn’t kill.” He said then, audibly and visibly finding it very funny.

You blinked, confusion taking your face – once again looking up at him and regretting it, feeling the weight of those severe comet blues rest heavy on you – life-threatening in and of themselves.

“Seems being pathetic saved your life.” He stated – as though in a compliment.

You weren’t sure of its intentions, finding yourself to be so very small lying there beneath him while confessing to being such a lowlife.

“But there’s more to it, isn’t there?” He cocked a brow, leaning in even closer until his nose bumped yours. “You feed off of the strong. Isn't that right, pretty curse?” His voice edged with something smug and something carnal – watching your round eyes hang off his. “You want me. Isn't that right?”

You took a moment but then nodded real pitifully – your lips brushing each other. He could see so clearly now, swirling in your big eyes – how badly you wanted him.

He chuckled under his breath, whispering against your lips, “Behave, and I’ll make sure to keep you well-fed.”

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sweetcyberangel · 1 month

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Baby, I'm yours

Bouncer!Abby Anderson x Reader

> part two Synopsis: When your friends leave you stranded at a club you find yourself in the helpful hands of the club's bouncer, who - by the way - is super hot and definitely your type. tags/Warnings: Alcohol, reader throws up, Abby rides a motorbike (she's so hot kms), she smokes a cigarette, both reader and Abby are a lil’ awkward (sapphic pining aww), maybe a part 2??

The bass reverberates through the floor, the bright and colorful lights match to its beat. The alcohol in your system dissipates any self-consciousness you’d typically feel as you dance among the crowds. The world around you is a spinning blur of colors and sounds, if it wasn’t for your earlier taken shots masking it you’d have a killer headache. You look down at your empty cup and furrow your brows, you didn’t remember drinking that so quickly… ah well! Time for another drink!

As the night wears on, the once bustling crowd dwindles, it’s almost 2am now, the club won't be open for all that much longer. When you turn to tell your friend you are going to grab “one last drink” your lips fall into a soft pout realizing they're not dancing behind you anymore. You stand on your tip-toes, scanning the club but drop back down when they're nowhere to be found. Wandering around for a moment a small panic starts to settle in your mind, they were your way home. You’d spent all your paycheck on rounds of shots and drinks for yourself and your friends. Reaching into your purse you fish around for your phone, it's cool against your palm as you lift it to your face, squinting to try and make sense of the messages on your screen. Oh…

‘Sorry bae, heading home with someone tonight ;)’

Your head starts to spin with worry, your eyes staring blankly at the bright screen of your phone. Your stomach aches with worry and alcohol. You take a deep breath to try and steady yourself, but it only makes your head spin. The air in here is stuffy and warm and smoky, you can’t hear yourself over the music and your eyes are starting to ache from the bright screen of your phone. You need to get outside.

You stumble towards the front doors of the club, barely in control of your body. The doors swing open and walking into the cold, fresh air soothes you more than you could have hoped… Until all the drinks you’d had that night come right back up onto the grass.

On your knees, alone, heaving up rounds of drinks at the front of a soon-to-be-closed nightclub was definitely not on your itinerary for the night.

“Oh shit..” You hear from somewhere around you, blocked out by the sound of blood rushing through your head. . A gentle hand finds its way into your hair, pushing it back from your face.

Mascara-filled tears are staining your cheeks as you desperately try to catch your breath, the gentle hand releasing your hair and patting your head in a soothing rhythm. Whether it's in an attempt to neaten your now messed up hair or comfort you, you're not sure, but you’ll take any comfort you can get.

"Hey, you okay now?” You turn around to face the voice and are met with the most attractive woman you have ever seen. She is tall and all defined muscles and broad shoulders. Her hair is braided behind her and you can tell from her clothes that she must be some kind of security. Well shit, that's one way to sober up. You want to crawl into a hole. You think you might ACTUALLY die of embarrassment. Parts of you wish you would.

“Hello??” Her confused tone brings you out of your pity party, “o-oh, sorry! Uhm… yeah. I'm okay,” Your eyes well with tears again remembering the situation that brought you out here in the first place. The woman's eyebrows scrunch in a worried manor, obviously not believing you.

“You should probably head home, clubs about to close,” she flicks her head in the direction of the building behind you both. “Here, let me help you up” she says softly as she reaches a hand out, your eyes running over her muscular arms peeking out of her folded up sleeves. You place your hand on hers (and feel butterflies swarm in your stomach at the size difference, but that's besides the point).

“How’re you getting home, sweetheart?” Sweetheart?? Your eyes widen at the pet name, and you wonder if it's her or the alcohol making your brain go empty right now. Wait, she asked you a question… What did she ask?? You look up at her and she chuckles at your reaction before repeating her question (minus the nickname this time, sadly).

Your eyes look down at your feet and you play with the ends of your dress, not knowing how to tell her ‘oh my friend ditched me and I was too drunk to realize and I have no money and no other way home so I guess I'm just sleeping out here tonight!’.

She watches your face drop and reaches into her back pocket to fetch some keys, “hey, my shift is over, if you need someone to take you home…” You look back at her in surprise, feeling slightly guilty at the idea. As if she can read your mind she quickly adds “it's no issue,” her expression warm and genuine. She looks down at you expectantly, it's starting to get cold and you can feel goosebumps rising on your skin, so pushing your guilt and embarrassment aside, you nod your head. “I’d really appreciate that”.

Her hand is on the small of your back, gently guiding you forward until you reach a sleek, black motorbike. She reaches into the small storage compartment under the seat and pulls out a leather jacket, handing it to you to put on before speaking again, “you ever been on one before?” she asks, nodding towards the bike. You softly shake your head “alright, that's okay. Jus’ sit behind me, keep your arms nice ‘nd tight around me, okay?” Her voice is gentle, reassuring, and you nod in response. She hands you her phone and gently asks you to type in your address before placing it in a small holder on her handlebars.

She effortlessly climbs onto the bike, offering you her arm to hold as you settle in behind her. The engine hums beneath you as she revs it, and you wrap your arms around her, following her instructions to hold on tightly. As she pulls away, the wind whips against your face, the cold biting at your cheeks, so you resort to resting your face against her muscular back.

She smells like pine, it's sweet and earthy and makes your head spin.

She drives fast, skilled hands guiding the bike between cars and filling you with adrenaline. You’re sure she’s even more reckless when she is alone. The idea makes your cheeks go warm.

You take a deep breath, letting yourself sink into her warmth and the feeling of the breeze rushing past you. Your eyes fall closed and your mind clears for the first time in a really long time.

You went to the club to forget your problems, to have a single night where you wouldn’t have to think about all of the shit going on in your life, and yet this woman you don’t even know the name of has eased your mind more than any amount of drinks or loud music or partying.

You almost whine when you see your street materializing around you, but the idea of a shower and warm food is a momentary distraction from the sadness pooling in your stomach at the knowledge you might never see the woman taking you home again. The sense of comfort that surrounds her is one you know you’ll be longing for. One you already have been, for a long time.

Turning into your driveway, she kills the engine, climbing off the bike and reaching out to help you off. You look up at her and find your words caught in your throat. “Let me walk you inside?” She smiles gently, voice hopeful and nervous. You nod your head gratefully and her hand is on your back again. It sends a shiver down your spine.

When you reach your front door you turn to face her, “thank you… I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t found me” You giggle nervously under your breath. “yeah, of course”. Her voice is ever gentle, soft and reassuring. It stirs something within you. It's a way you’ve never been spoken to before. It makes you ache (both in the heart and between your thighs).

As your hand grazes the door handle, she hesitates, her voice tinged with nervousness as she speaks again “Feel free to tell me to fuck off if I read this completely wrong but- can I give you my number?”

You fight off the urge to squeal in excitement, but can’t fight the smile that grazes your face. The blonde girl in front of you feels her heart thump at the sight, and then thump even harder when you hand her your phone. "I would like that," you reply, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of seeing her again.

She hands your phone back and you finally take a step inside your home, turning back to bid her goodbye. “Get home safe” you smile softly at her. “Sleep well, sweetheart” She flicks a few fingers up in a wave goodbye

You gently close the door, glancing out the window and watching as she lights a cigarette, blowing the smoke into the night air. Your teeth graze against your bottom lip, pushing down a grin as you recall the night. Glancing down at your phone you feel your heart race at the name ‘Abby <3’ shining back brightly.

#abby anderson #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #bouncer!abby

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ghouljams · 2 months

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Hey! i saw ur post about tying ghost up with a vibrator. what about him tying up his little wifey and doing the same to her while he just does whatever he'd like around the house. feel free to ignore but i was just curious!!

A spreader bar locked around your knees, your arms tied behind your back with soft ropes looping a ladder up to your shoulders, dropped on the bed and pushed face down. Simon was kind enough to shove a pillow between your legs before he walked your toddler over to your parents. There's a vibrator tucked into the pillowcase, one you can hear but can't seem to find. It rumbles the pillow just enough to remind you it's there, but you can't exactly turn the pillow out and find it. That would ruin the game.

You grind your hips down against the pillow, trying to find the vibe, or at least get a better idea of where it is. You bump it and shiver at the jolt of pleasure it sends through you. Attempting to press your clit more directly against it just shifts the vibrator's position, and you end up chasing it around the pillow. You get a few seconds of lovely, perfect, stimulation against your clit and the rest is a desperate chase fueled only by your needy grinding. You try to find a better position for yourself and find you can really only move up and down the bed. The spreader bar pushes the pillow away when you try to move, and you feel hot panic at the prospect of losing your outlet.

Forget the vibrator, you hump the pillow. It's not an unfamiliar feeling, and you feel your lashes flutter when the roll of your hips catches your clit perfectly. You work a decent wet spot into the pillow as your empty cunt drips and drools, you even manage to find the vibrator again, pushing your aching clit against it and holding it there until you have to move again. You're drooling against the mattress by the time your bedroom door opens and Simon walks back in. Or, you suppose right now it's Ghost, he prefers that over any title you could give him, wears his mask as he runs his hand over the swell of your ass.

You push back into the touch greedily and is runs up your back to grab one of the rungs of rope holding your arms together. You're tugged up, your hips pushing against the pillow to compensate the motion. Your shoulders ache, you hadn’t noticed until now. Ghost presses his covered lips against your ear, and you try not to tip your head, too out of it to hold a thought against baring your neck.

"Did I keep you waiting love?" Ghost asks. You shake your head, content to listen to the low Manchester rumble of his voice. Your hips twitch against the pillow, still chasing the orgasm you'd been building. Heat simmers low in your stomach, and your pussy throbs with need. You're well past being prepared to beg. "Look at you, drippin' like this before I've even touched you," his voice is so low, drawing every thought from your head, purring through your brain and coaxing you into something warm and fuzzy.

You mumble something even you don't comprehend and he chuckles. "You want me to leave you a bit longer mama?" Somehow you do, in the quiet of your room, tied up with nowhere to go and nothing to focus on but the pleasure you're being denied, it's nice not being anything but a waiting toy. You don't have to think, you can just be.

"Rog," Ghost concludes, "give ya another 30,-" he kisses your temple and lets you drop back onto the bed, "-then you get a reward."

"'Nother baby," you slurr, enjoying the hiss Simon lets out.

"Whatever you want princess," he agrees, "just don't come."

Until he's back, you think, but he doesn't say it. Until he's back, you hope, except the mischief in Ghost's eyes when he closes the door makes your blood run cold. Don't come, you tell yourself grinding your hungry cunt against the pillow, don't come until he's done with you. Or lie about it, and take a better punishment than this one.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #x oc #cod x oc #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #simon riley x you #ghost x oc #oc: goose #baby mary has to go see her grandparents so ghost and goose can wear each other out

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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months

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Icy

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Teen!Reader

Summary: Ingrid gets angry

You break your wrist the day Mapi does her meniscus.

You're just playing around when it happens. Mapi's got you on her shoulders, despite Ingrid yelling at you to get the hell off, when she takes a misstep. She yelps loudly, drawing everyone's attention, and crumbles to the ground.

You're thrown across the grass of the pitch and skid. It knocks the wind out of you and you can hear the snap of your wrist when it hits the grass, bent at a weird angle.

It throbs and tears spring to your eyes but you don't think of anything but Mapi and practically crawl your way towards her.

Ingrid's already there though and she fixes with the iciest glare she can manage.

You freeze.

Ingrid's got a cold kind of anger that festers beneath the surface. It's very scary and you've never been on the receiving end of it before. It's like a bolt of lightning is shot down your back and you freeze, drawing your limp wrist into your body.

She turns back to soothing Mapi and you stay where you are.

It's clear that she doesn't want you to approach, clear that she's angry with you so you sit frozen on the grass.

Her glare is scary and she's mouthing something at you. You can't really make it out but it's something along the lines of staying the fuck where you are because you've already done enough.

Mapi rolls around in pain, slapping the ground so she doesn't scream and the medics come running on.

Most of them go to her but one comes to you.

He reaches for your wrist.

You pull away.

"Mapi," You croak out," Mapi."

"She's going to be just fine," He promises you," But you need to let me take a look at that wrist."

"No." You shake your head, desperately trying to peak over his shoulder to see Mapi.

Ingrid is standing up now, looking around like Mapi's personal guard dog. Her eyes rest on you and they narrow. You look away before she can say anything again.

She's angry at you, you know this, and you try to think of whose house you'll have to sleep at tonight. You live with Ingrid and Mapi but you don't think either of them will want you around tonight.

You yelp when the medic moves your wrist, instantly tearing it from his grip.

He grimaces and you freeze.

"What? What is it?"

"I'm sorry."

"Why? No, what is it?"

"Have you looked at your wrist, y/n?" He asks.

You shake your head. "No...Mapi-"

"I need some bandages!" He yells out to the others. He glances at you. "And probably a green whistle too."

It's funny, you think. You barely felt any pain when you were focused on Mapi and pumped with adrenaline. Now that you're looking at your injury, you feel the blood rush from your face.

Your bone is sticking out of your skin. Your stomach rolls as the pain hits you in full force. You're pretty good with injuries. You're not squeamish or anything but the sight of your bone poking out makes you turn and throw up all over the grass.

You feel so incredibly sick and disorientated that you barely notice Mapi demanding Ingrid tell her what's wrong with you. Ingrid's looking at you again. No longer is there an icy look in her eyes but genuine horror instead.

You're completely out of it as the medic tries to stabilise your wrist without agitating your bone. Someone sticks a green whistle into your mouth and you suck down hard.

Your eyes are all glazed over as you watch Mapi be placed onto a stretcher. Ingrid walks with her but keeps looking back at you. She drops Mapi's hand and moves towards you but you think you flinch away when she does so and one of the older girls (Marta or Paredes, maybe) pushes Ingrid away to follow after her girlfriend.

Unlike Mapi, who is wheeled to the physios to get scans, you're brought straight to the hospital and taken into surgery.

By the time you wake up, it's already dark out and there's someone holding your non-injured hand.

"Hey," Mapi says softly," You're looking rough."

You blink groggily at her. "How's your leg? Is it a..."

You don't want to say those three letters but Mapi just shakes her head.

"Meniscus," Is her answer," I'll be alright though. Just a little surgery in a few days."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"Ingrid thinks it is. She got really scary."

"She's sorry too," Mapi says," She knows how she reacted was wrong and she's getting you ice cream right now."

You're not too convinced but you don't want to argue with Mapi so you lift up your arm. You've got a cast around your wrist and you gather they doped you up on painkillers because it doesn't even twinge.

"It was a nasty break," Mapi says," Snapped part of your radius which then pushed your ulna out through your skin. It was gnarly." She pats you soothingly. "But you'll heal up in no time. We can be rehab buddies together."

That brings a smile to your face but it drops the moment Ingrid comes through the door.

You bottom lip wobbles. "I'm sorry." You hate how you sound so pathetic and broken.

Ingrid shakes her head and takes a seat next to you. "No, I'm sorry," She says," I shouldn't have treated you like that no matter how worried I was about Mapi. I'm very, very sorry."

You offer her a weak smile. "Does this mean I can still stay in the spare room?"

"Spare room?" Ingrid laughs," That's been your room for nearly a year now. You're not going anywhere."

#woso x reader #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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moon-rivr · 4 months

Note

I need a fic about Miguel lusting after nurse fem!reader! I imagine he got hurt around her apartment and being that he is Spider-Man and she is a nurse she decides to take him into her apartment and fix him up. She is so caring and kind to he and this starts to become a thing where spider-man gets her to heal him.

So Miguel never reveals his identity to her but he’s like falling hard for her. Like thinking about her all the time (especially when he is in the shower lol). Let’s say one day he’s feeling like a little under the weather so he decides to go to where she works to get a check up and medicine (and hopefully to see her outside of his costume for once) so when he finally sees her he’s trying to charm her flirt a bit like he does when he’s behind the mask, but she is not having it. She acts cold and disinterested because one, guys flirt with nurses all the time and two, she has feelings for spider-man. Then you can do what you want with the ending but I would like if they get together in the end maybe you can squeeze some NSFW in there. Honestly this might make a pretty cute series!

little nurse

pairing: miguel o’hara x nurse fem reader

contents: mentions of blood/injuries and masturbation (m)

author’s note: decided to split this up into two parts, i hope you don’t mind :) very limited medical knowledge btw (one szn of grey’s anatomy and dr mike accounting for that 😖)

word count: 4.1K

Miguel O'Hara appeared in your life out of thin air. Literally.

You were trudging home from work around eleven at night, your scrubs smelling like disinfectant and dark circles adorning your under eyes. You'd been looking forward to taking a shower and getting as much sleep as you could before your next shift, your plans completely shifting when someone dropped in front of you. A masked man landed in front of you, clad in a Spider-Man costume. The sleep that you were longing for quickly faded away, replaced by a feeling of concern as you kneeled over to see if he had fractured his spine or his head with the fall. "How many fingers am I holding up?" You asked, holding up three as you waited for some kind of assurance that he was awake.

After receiving no response from the man, you dragged him into your apartment to work on him inside. You were grateful to whatever entity there was above that you lived in a downstairs apartment, the task of taking the man inside proving more difficult than you'd originally thought. You let out a small huff as you dragged him onto the rug in the center of your living room, shutting the door afterwards. You looked down at the man, almost tempted to take off the mask and reveal who was underneath the Spider-Man mask. After more careful consideration, you decided that it probably wasn't the best idea while he was in such a vulnerable position and grabbed your phone from your purse.

You'd gotten some old blouses that you were planning on throwing away, using them as a tourniquet around his stomach to stop the bleeding. You pressed two fingers to his neck to try to feel for a pulse, a bit slow but at a steady rhythm. After making sure his heartbeat was stable, you pressed your head down to your chest to listen for his breathing, the sound coming out ragged. "Stay with me, please," you silently whispered as your bloody fingers typed away at your phone screen, opening up the phone app. You'd finished up typing up the final one of the emergency number, a large gloved hand stopping you from answering the dispatcher on the other line.

"No, no. Please don't do that," the masked man underneath you pleaded as he slowly started to regain consciousness. You were made aware that not only would he run the risk of getting his identity exposed, but he'd also run the risk of having the nypd arrest him for the crimes he's committed as a vigilante. "Now do you understand why I can't go to the hospital?" He asked, almost like he wanted to make sure what stood at stake for him. "Okay, I'll trust you for now. But if you start bleeding out in my living room, then I'll take you to the hospital. Does that sound good?" You answered reluctantly, watching as he nodded.

You grabbed some gloves from one of your kitchen drawers, kneeling down next to him as you reached for the zipper on the back. "Do you mind if I take this off?" You asked, wanting to get his approval before you got started on anything. "Whatever you need to do to me, doc," he answered, sitting a bit up so you could reach the zipper better. You zipped down his suit, pulling it off his arms and sliding it down to his stomach. "How's your head? You hit it pretty hard when you fell," you asked him, wanting to get a better assessment of how his health was. You felt around his stomach, trying to find if there was any internal bleeding but you knew that the results would be more accurate with a CT scan.

"My head's fine, just a bit of blindness in my right eye," he deadpanned, your eyebrows practically shooting up to your hairline as you turned to look at him. "I'm joking, doc. I'm all good," he added, a small chuckle following after. "I'd smack you if your ribs weren't probably broken right now," you muttered, getting up from the floor to grab a suture kit from your bedroom. Only the sounds of his breathing could be heard as you worked on the large gashes covering most of his abdominal region, steady fingers working the needle through the thread to stop any further bleeding. You wiped away at some of the dried blood, cleaning him up to the best of your ability before pressing your hands down on his stomach to see if he had any further pain.

"I don't have any strong meds at my house, I only have Tylenol so I hope that works for you," you announced as you looked over at your medicine cabinet, surprisingly empty for the line of work that you'd chosen. "Give me the prognosis, doc. How long do I have to live?" he asked as you handed him the bottle of pills with a glass of a water. "I'm not a doctor, just a nurse. And I'd say a couple more minutes, if you're lucky. Might last longer if you don't annoy me as much," you teased him back, grabbing a couple bandages to finish up with the job. You wrapped them around the places where you placed the stitches, making him a little first aid kit just in case he'd need it. "If your stitches pop out or anything, just come back here. You know where I live."

He pulled the zipper back on, grabbing the first aid kit from you before he headed towards the door. "I'll see you next time I get hurt, little nurse," he told you, making it seem more like a promise than a goodbye. "Try not to make this a daily thing, please," you responded before he had the chance to leave, the eyes of his mask slightly raising. "I can't make any promises, lindura," he swung away after he finished speaking, sticking to the building in front of your apartment complex. You couldn't help but look out at him as he left, watching the way that he maneuvered the webs to the best of his ability despite the injuries that he'd sustained.

Miguel continued to seek you out as his nurse every time that he got hurt after that, enjoying the small banter and jokes between the two of you. Getting to be around you once more felt like the highlight of every fight that he got into, the assurance that you would be there to patch him up giving him the motivation that he needed to get up and fight crime. Despite the small jabs that you took at him, you proved to care about him time and time again with each wound that you treated. You never asked him any questions about his identity, never made him out to be anything bigger than what he had to be. Despite the fact that he wore the mask around you, he'd never felt more exposed around a human being in his life before.

Miguel found himself to be distracted by the thought of just seeing you again, constantly. He found himself wanting to get hurt just so he'd have an excuse to need your assistance, to have your soft hands running across his flesh as you stitched him up. His attention wasn't diverted only when he was dressed up as Spider-Man, the affection that he held towards you following him all the way to the lab he worked at. He'd mixed up two chemicals that he shouldn't have, causing a negative reaction in one of the rats that he was testing on and having to discard his experiment completely. "Focus, O'Hara. We're not here to pick up after your messes," his co-worker and superior, Aaron Delgato, told him during lunchtime with that same stupid smug expression he always carried on his face.

Normally, Miguel would've had something to respond back with but he couldn't find it in him to care that much at the moment. "Yeah, yeah," he ended up muttering back, pushing away his concerns as he sipped at the bitter coffee from the cafeteria. Normally the bitter taste of the coffee would've made him spit out the substance, the taste becoming slightly better when you were at the forefront of his mind. Instead of throwing it away after the first sip, he ended up taking a couple more sips before throwing it away in the sink. He spent the day at work focusing on his reports, having to stay a bit later to make up for the work that he'd messed up earlier just so he wouldn't have to deal with Aaron's condescending comments and stupid smirk as he questioned Miguel's ability to work the job he did.

He got home at around 6:30, two hours after his shift ended. The sound of door closing echoed throughout the empty halls of his home, the environment completely devoid of anything homely apart from a couple pictures and a bookshelf full of scientific journals that he'd enjoyed. He stripped away from his clothes once he got into his bedroom, wanting to remove himself from the lab as much as possible. He got into the shower before he had to head out for his vigilante duties, knowing that he knew would be too tired to do so when he got back home. The cold stream of water hit his muscles as he stood underneath, putting his forehead against the cold tiles of the wall. He felt depraved as he thought about you while he stood here, feeling himself grow more and more ashamed as he resisted the urge to wrap his hand around his cock.

Eventually, he ended up giving into his desires and wrapped his fingers tightly around his cock. He closed his eyes to help him envision a scenario with you, his mind running through with images of you underneath him. His grip on his cock tightened, wanting to replicate the feeling of what your cunt would feel like. He smeared some of the precum leaking out of his tip all around his shaft with his thumb, letting out a small hiss as he felt himself growing more aroused with every second that passed. He started off slow, wanting to prolong this orgasm as much as possible.

He pictured you starting off by sticking your tongue out for him as you sat on your knees underneath him, doe eyes looking at him expectantly as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock. Your mouth would engulf around the tip of his cock, swirling your tongue around it to capture every drop of precum that leaked out. His thumb ran around his tip to simulate every aspect of his scenario, precum sticking to his fingers as he did. He couldn't help but think about how beautiful you would look as you struggled to adjust to the feeling of his cock around your mouth, tears threatening to leak through as you fought off the urge to gag. "Oh shock, keep going," he moaned out, almost feeling like you were in the room with him.

His hand moved faster around his cock, fingers wrapped tightly around his shaft as he tried to get himself off. His eyes remained closed as the cold water ran through his body, his mind still continuing with the scenario from earlier. He felt his cock twitch in his hand, picturing how you would look with ropes of cum splattered onto your face. His release was more uneventful than he'd expected it to be, hit with the clarity of the situation immediately as the water washed the sticky substance from his hands. His forehead remained pressed against the shower wall, wanting to eliminate every negative thought that he'd been presented with. He felt perverted for taking advantage of you in this way, of taking advantage of the way that you were just so ready to help him out, but he couldn't help but feel his desire for you grow even more with every smile that you gave him.

He got out of the shower a couple minutes later, taking a few moments to reflect on what he'd done before finishing up with the rest of his shower routine. "Did you finish making the final adjustments to my suit?" He asked as his hologram assistant appeared next to him, a towel wrapped around his waist as he walked to the closet. "I did. You should find the material to be a bit more durable than the one that you previously used. Though the news reports show that it's going to be close to freezing so I would recommend for you to stay home," LYLA responded, before giving him the detailed report of what she'd done to his suit. "Crime doesn't stop just because it's a little cold. I'm sure I'll be fine," he muttered, grabbing the suit hanging up on the back of his closet.

Miguel shivered as he sat on top of a rooftop, overlooking the city as he waited for something to happen. He would have to make a mental note to add some insulation to the redesign of his suit, finding every minute outside to be excruciating. He removed the bottom part of his mask, blowing onto his bare hands as he rubbed them together. His feet swung on the edge of the building, ears perked up as he tried to listen in on conversations to discern whether anybody actually needed his help tonight. He was about to leave for the night around 30 minutes later, his plans getting stopped when he heard a lady scream across the street.

Miguel handed the purse back to the lady who was getting robbed, fighting the thugs that had tried to rob her proving to be the most exciting thing that happened all night. "Thank you Spider-Man!" The woman called out as he swung away, receiving a curt nod in response before he swung away. He ended up having to fight a couple low-grade robbers and car-jackers, nothing too big for the night. He got back home after finishing up the mundane tasks, feeling himself shivering even as he was welcomed by the warmth of the fireplace in his living room. LYLA had already started with her remarks about how he probably ended doing himself more harm than good, getting shut off two minutes into her monologue. He stripped off his clothing, sitting down on his couch with his legs spread out as he tried to warm up.

Miguel let out a groggy moan as he got up to the sound of his alarm, rubbing his hand across his temples as he laid on the couch. He could hardly get up to go to the bathroom, finding himself unable to head into work today. "I need to call in sick today," Miguel mumbled into the phone, knowing that Aaron was probably rejoicing at his weakened state. "You already messed up the experiment and now you want to take the day off? You're really slacking here, O’Hara," aaron remarked with a small 'tsk', speaking just loud enough for anyone to be able to overhear their conversation. "I don’t see why I have to explain myself to you but I'm sick. The experiment's gonna end even more messed up if I do end up showing up," Miguel answered, a small cough coming out of his end almost on cue.

After getting the reluctant approval of Aaron to stay home, miguel made his way to his bedroom and snuggled underneath his blanket. "LYLA, set up an appointment for me tomorrow at the medical center downtown please," he asked his ai assistant, his words coming out raspy and hoarse. "Why would you want me to do that? I can give you a full health assessment and recommend the right types of medicine that you need, Way better than a doctor ever could," she responded, appearing next to him with a face mask and little nurse hat on. "If I wanted you to do that, I would've asked. Just set me the appointment please," he mumbled, reaching over on his bed stand to get a tissue. LYLA was about to protest once more, but decided to go ahead and do the task when she heard Miguel coughing once more.

Miguel spent most of the day in bed, sweating underneath his tiger blanket despite the fact that he felt himself shivering. He found out the hard way that Vaporub did not in fact cure every one of his aches, though his nose wasn't too stuffed up after using it. He got up around 6 pm when he felt his stomach grumble, walking over to the kitchen to make himself something to eat. He turned on the afternoon news, wanting to make sure there wasn't anything too bad threatening the city. He saw that there had been a couple reports of robberies around the city, leaving it up to the police since he wasn't sure how useful he would be with his nose running every minute. He turned off the tv and poured the chicken soup that had been brewing on the oven into plate, sitting down at the dinner table to have something to eat. All he could do for now was simply wait for what the doctor would prescribe him, a part of him hoping that he would be able to see you.

"Miguel O'Hara?" You called out, looking around the sickly people in the waiting room before a tall man stood up. "That's me," he responded, his sinuses clearly stuffed up as he spoke. You led him back into the rooms, walking to the treatment rooms as you looked through the clipboard. "It's been a while since you've been here so i'm gonna go ahead and update your medical file," you informed him, looking back at him as he nodded. You led him to a wall with a measure taped on it, grabbing a pen from one of the pockets of your scrubs. You were about to take his height, noticing that his figure loomed over the measure. Your eyes widened slightly, your mind rubbing through what you could possibly do.

You grabbed an extra measure from a drawer, grabbing a chair nearby before getting up on it to tape it up on the wall. "You could've asked me to do that, y'know? I wouldn't have minded doing a favor for such a pretty nurse," he mused as he looked up at you, his lips immediately pursing together at the dirty look that you shot him. You got off from the chair, looking up at the two measures taped together before counting the extra inches. "Alright, 6'9," you muttered to yourself, writing it down on the clipboard before motioning for him to step on the electronic scale next to the side. You took his weight after the machine stopped counting, writing down the results before leading him to his assigned treatment room.

You washed your hands at the sink, putting on a bit of hand sanitizer before putting on a pair of gloves. "What seems to be the problem?" You asked, wanting to get a synopsis of what he thought was wrong before you made any guesses. "The problem is that you haven't accepted a dinner invitation with me. I'm sure my cold would heal a lot faster if you did, just saying. Trust me, I'm also a doctor," he mused, relishing as you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. While you'd had your fair share of patients flirt with you, having to deal with their advances tested your patience bit by bit. The man in front of you wasn't exactly unattractive, but he didn't make you feel the same excitement that you felt every time that you saw Spider-Man. You folded your arms and looked at him, staying silent until he decided to divulge what had been bothering him.

"My nose's stuffed up, my chest feels like it's full of phloem, and I can't stop coughing up a lung," he responded, allowing you to get a glimpse of what was really bothering him. "It sounds like you just have a cold but I'll get your blood work done just to make sure that I get an accurate result," you told him, grabbing a small needle to prick him. Before he got the chance to tell you that the blood work wouldn't reveal much, you'd already collected the blood in a small tube. "The doctor will be right with you, Mr. O’Hara," he'd heard you say before the door closed, leaving him alone with the knowledge that you didn't feel the same way about him while he was unmasked.

The doctor came in and did what they were supposed to, taking his heartbeat and his temperature. "It seems like you just have a cold, Mr. O’Hara. Take some time to rest at home and don't overexert your body," the doctor had warned him, handing him a small paper with a prescription for what seemed to be cough syrup on it. He took the paper from the doctor, looking over at you with a small smile as you stepped into the room. The doctor handed the chart over to you, giving you a shortened explanation of what the diagnosis had been. You read over his chart, reaffirming what the doctor had already said before you dismissed him.

"I forgot to mention, your blood test came back inconclusive. I'm sure it was just the machine since it said it couldn't really identify you as fully human," you told him before he had the chance to leave, his figure looming over yours as he waited for you to finish speaking. "I hope you get your machine fixed soon. I'm sorry if i did something to damage it. By the way, are you certain that you don't want to say yes to that dinner I mentioned earlier?" He insisted with his previous offer, his hand lingering on the doorknob as he waited for your response. "I'm sure, thank you for the very kind offer," you reaffirmed, stepping out of the room once he'd walked out.

You headed to the back to talk with your friends, seeing Miguel at the hospital's pharmacy to get the cough syrup prescription filled. "I heard you rejected your patient's advances when he asked you out to dinner. This one's pretty cute and rich, so what happened?" Nurse Maya asked you, pretending to sift through some files just in case a doctor passed by. "Girl, you know she's obsessed over that Spider-Man guy. How's it been going treating him for free, anyways?" Your other friend, Nurse Valeria asked, looking up from her computer just to take note of your expression. You hated how easy the news travelled in the hospital, avoiding Miguel’s gaze as you turned to look at your two friends.

"It's been going decent, thank you. And there's nothing new to tell, Spider-Man hasn't been showing up to my house lately. I kinda have missing being his little nurse," you responded, watching as they both rolled your eyes. "Of course you had to go and fall in love with the masked psycho," Maya muttered before the three of you talked about something else. You couldn't help but laugh as Maya went through her recent dating dilemma, blissfully unaware to the fact that someone had been listening to your conversation while they were waiting for their prescription to be filled.

Miguel couldn't help the small smile that crossed his lips as he heard you speak about Spider-Man in the way that you did, speaking about his alter ego like a high school girl with a crush. "Mr. O'Hara?" The pharmacist behind the counter called out for what seemed to be the hundredth time, finally diverging his attention long enough from you to be able to do their job properly. "Thank you," Miguel mumbled awkwardly, the smile on his face quickly fading away as he paid for the cough syrup. He took a small spoonful of it in his car while he waited for the blue light to turn off, silently hoping that it would work and he could get back to fighting crime once more.

Though he felt a little discouraged at the way you'd shut him off with every flirting attempt that he made, he knew that at some level you had to feel some kind of attraction for him. His mind began coursing with different ideas of how to approach this situation, almost jealous of the way that you viewed his alternate ego. He started to wonder what it would be like if he was able to flirt with you the same way that he was able to as Spider-Man, what it would be like to have that confidence without the use of the mask. The way you spoke about him was almost endearing, the way that you described what it felt like to have Spider-Man come for your services and the way that you felt while you stitched him up. All that he knew is that he needed to come up with a solution about how to approach this crush for you and fast.

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milkzoro · 6 months

Text

i like to eat human flesh

-> zombie lu 🧟‍♂️ (fem!reader)

warnings: MDNI, smut, blood, sharp objects (knives), murder, luffy is zombie, riding, bondage, ‘feedings’, monster fucking, cream pie, knotting

summary: YOU LOCKED YOUR ZOMBIE BOYFRIEND UP IN YOUR BASEMENT, CAN YOU TRUST HIM NOT TO EAT YOU?

☆彡

you waited for the perfect time, you eyed the blond haired man for thirty minutes before deciding to make your move. trembling in your fingertips as the grip on your knife tightened. there was no time for error, it was now or never. feedings always had you feeling like this, the regret and second thoughts consumed your sorry mind. nothing else mattered to you once you remembered the predicament you were in.

the blond didn’t seem much trouble, he only sat there to chain smoke his cigarettes and chat with the pretty women that passed by. he was predictable, and you used that to your advantage. it was becoming later in the night, all traces of people disappeared, leaving only him behind. you then revealed yourself from the lurks of the shadows. a few deep breaths was all you needed to regain your confidence, you carefully made your way closer.

immediately he noticed your presence and started spewing flirty phrases at you. though, you couldn’t register any of his remarks, you could only just move.

he puffed his cigarette and smiled warmly. “hello gorgeous, mind if i-” you quickly raised your knife to his throat, cutting a line horizontally.

blood mist sprayed across face and you heard the thud of a grown man dropping to the floor, the ensemble shaking you to your core. ‘oh my… god? shit… gotta go. now.’

you rushed to bag the man and disposed of any possible evidence. luckily enough, you didn’t run into any witnesses on your commute back, your small house was only a couple more meters away. the mans stiff body weighed a thousand bricks as you dragged him along, you struggled but feeding your boyfriend was your only worry.

your poor baby, you hated doing this but you wanted to take care of him anyway that you could. the first week was the hardest for the both of you.

luffy had been feeling kind of off these past few days but he told you not to worry, he reassured you that it was probably just something he ate and that he had just a little stomach bug.

that wasn’t the case though, you still have no idea what exactly it was but his little ‘stomach bug’ turned out to be so much more life threatening. one afternoon you came home to him violently shaking and foaming at the mouth, he was hardly breathing. once your rushed to join him on the cold floor he stopped.. almost as if he was waiting to share his last breaths with you. he choked and cried as blood drained from his mouth, he was pleading for you.

“y/n- please… help me.” he stoped, every muscle in his body completely still and shut down.

you laid there with his blood staining your hands as you tried to tell him that he would be okay. hot tears never stopping to fall from your face, you held his dying body.

he somehow turned into a lifeless monster, skin cold and eyes blank, he was a zombie? you never thought it was possible it your lifetime but… luffy…

you couldn’t bear loosing your love, so you kept him.

currently he was tied up in tattered ropes but it always wasn’t that way.

his symptoms weren’t so bad in the beginning, but he started to show dark veins trickling up and down his body, he had also gone non verbal.

you tried everything. how was he dead one second, then up and moving the next? it was a confusing time.

you thought medication would solve your problems but that also didn’t work, he refused to take them. you aslo didn’t have access to pharmaceuticals so you tried advil and ibuprofen, it was a sad attempt but you hoped it would do something.

he began to get worse, he threw furniture and had groaning tantrums when you wouldn’t let him leave the house. he was getting stronger and more aggressive, it terrified you but there was no way in hell you’d give up now.

“luuuu..” you spoke quietly as you entered the room. your boyfriend looked so spent and defeated, his limbs were tied to the arms and legs of the chair but his head was tossed back as whines and breathy groans fled his mouth.

his head perked up at the sight of you, never once acknowledging the body you dragged along.

“baby please eat, you haven’t for the past few days, i’m trying everything… you didn’t like the animals i’ve brought you, please what is it you need.”

you pled with your eyes looking desperately into his own, hoping to get some sort of answer. you quickly realized talking wasn’t going to get you anywhere. your warm hand came to softly hold the side of his cold, decaying face. he closed his eyes and growled. with his reaction, it was easy to tell what he was wanting. he was reminding you so much of the old lu..

his eyes grazed every inch of your body as you saw him struggle in his restraints. he wanted you so bad but he didn’t know how to ask for it, he hoped you would get the hint from his motions.

he’s relearned simple words again from listening to you all day, you spent as much time as you could with him in your basement because you felt he would grow lonely without the presence of society. he’s only really learnt commands like, ‘no’ and ‘please’, but you’re grateful for how far he’s come.

it wasn’t until this moment that you knew what he needed, your touch. the way he looked at you and how he would shuffle his hips up in the chair made you so sad. you’ve had him here, tied up, and he just wanted to touch himself, or rather, you.

‘no’. you shook your head. you couldn’t possibly think to fuck your zombie boyfriend. his icy hand all over you, his pretty lips, the way his cock stimulated you perfectly.. ‘no!’ but the thoughts made you curious and you missed the touch of your sweet boyfriend. seeing him needy and somewhat obedient again drove you insane.

it was almost like it really was him, the tender look in his pale eyes made you emotional.

“luffy~ hi babes.” you touched his icy skin, all fear leaving your body seeing him act so delicate.

“so.. you’re not hungry lu?” you gestured to the brown sack bag in the corner of the room with blood patches staining the outside. he shook his head quickly, low growls muttering through his chapped lips.

“and you’re not gonna bite me if i touch you? right baby?” you kneel down before him feeling up the length of his jeans, playing with the stubborn buttons and zips.

a deep hunger like moan rippled in the room, he moved his hips up again but you removed your hands.

“say something lu- you’re not going to hurt me, right?”

he couldn’t formulate proper words with some of his vocal cords mutilated but you could understand him most of the time. the vibrato in his voice dragged along.

“mmHghhhhgahHh y-y/naahGghhAgg-”

he nodded his head to agree to your previous question, growls and snarls accompanying his eager movements. his moans were like no other, he truly was a monster. though, you couldn’t help but fall apart at the sounds of hearing him call out your name again.

luffy looked so innocent tied up in his ropes, you wanted to take care of him. if he wasn’t gonna eat, you could at least help him feel good. the growing knot in your stomach also wanted to please your helpless zombie boyfriend.

“fuck it.” you muttered. “let me help you luffy, gonna take these off okay?”

you played with the buttons of his pants, struggling to get them off. the nerves mixed with anticipation made you tremble. you haven’t touched your boyfriend in a few weeks, though it truly felt like an eternity.

luffy couldn’t wait either, and it showed when you saw many wet spots decorating his gray boxers.

a gasp escaped your lips as you saw the sheer width of him through the thin fabric. you were unsure if it was some sort of zombified mutation or if it was his pent up frustration, but he was thick.

he was moving more and more at the slightest touches from you but the ropes held his top half relatively still, his whines growing restless. luffy was trying to let you know that he needed you now, he prayed that you understood his intentions.

you finally got his boxers off and your eyes widened, your panties collecting moisture at the sight of him.

his fat, curved cock sprung up with such elasticity, he smacked hard against his torso. he looked so beautiful. so wide and leaky, his tip was black as night fading all the way down to his ghostly pale base. it made you squirm, remembering that he was undead.

he growled again at you, he was becoming more vocal as to say, ‘hurry up’.

hearing his deep moans made your tummy flutter, you rushed to undress yourself. the chill air of the basement made you shiver, you needed him to stretch you out.

you raised yourself onto his lap to line your entrance up carefully with his twitching cock, preparing to lower yourself down slowly.

his devious mind had other ideas, completely ignoring your preparations and fucking himself up to meet his thighs with your ass, bottoming out as he stretched your tight little hole.

“luffy!!!” you cried, you didn’t have the chance to adjust to his width, you sat there for a moment with your face hung in the crook of his neck, tears falling from your face.

it took quite some time but you thought you were ready to move. with tears still trickling, you began to rock your hips. the pain slowly turned into pleasure.

luffy’s thick cock stirred inside you, hitting more spots than from when he was human. you stretched so beautifully around him, making a mess all over his thighs. the combination of his harsh thrusts and semi-automatic dick rutting inside you had you slamming down hard on him, you couldn’t keep your eyes open. you were trapped.

with his arms still tied, he only hadso much to work with, his cock and his drooling mouth. he felt his orgasm coming with the sight of your pretty face finally comsumed with the pleasure of his monster dick. his balls so heavy from not being drained for several weeks, he needed to release in you.

he felt your tight muscles clench around the base of his cock, groaning deeply with you. his thick load ready to destroy your insides.

his devilish urges couldn’t escape, he needed to bite. with the mix of waves of pleasure and the loud whimpers foaming from your mouth, it only felt natural. he lowered his head to the crevasse of your neck as you bounced on his pulsing cock, riding out your orgasm. he sucked hard on your warm skin, wetnesses and drool dripping down your collarbone. the feeling making you dizzy and incoherent, you didn’t feel the pain until it was too late. his suckles formed into nibbles.

your moans quickly turned into yelps, you were still surrounding his heavy cock but almost immediately you recovered from your orgasm.

the taste of your sweet blood filled him, giving him more energy then ever. you felt his cock stiffen again inside of you. “l-luffy! what are you doing! stop it!!” you struggled to move, his cock thickening within your gummy walls.

he was knotted, his tip so large you couldn’t escape. with his mouth still attached, he fucked into you harder. the taste of your rich blood and the ecstasy of your perfect cunt, it felt as if he was alive again.

your screams where ignored as he used your pathetic little body, completely lust and blood drunk.

the mix of feelings confused you, the pleasure you felt in your core was other worldly, but was it worth being fed on? you began feeling lightheaded as he drained you of blood cells, you couldn’t separate from him and he didn’t stop. you went limp on his body, reality started to fade away..

you eventually woke up, the room was quiet and the chair was empty. ‘did he escape?’ panic started to settle in, how could you let this happen? you knew he was a threat!

shuffling footsteps was all you heard behind you, it was hard to move from all of your injuries but he was met with you soon enough.

all his teeth were on display as he smiled devilishly at you, darkened blood painted from his chin to his chest.

he limped closer to you, groans and growls echoing in the confinement of your cold basement.

“luffy- please, don’t do this!! baby!! it’s me!” you tried, as if a pathetic plea would stop such a monster..

*munch munch munch*

he eats you :3

if u like!!! pls lmk i love being praised 🙈

#one piece x reader #one piece smut #luffy x reader #luffy x you #luffy smut #monkey d luffy x reader #monkey d luffy #one piece #monkey d. luffy #op luffy #monkey d luffy smut #one piece scenario #one piece fanfiction #one piece headcanons

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batsycline69 · 3 months

Text

Take Care

Summary: Jason doesn't like when you worry about him

Pairing: Jason Todd x GN!Reader

Words: 1,074

Warnings: brief description of injury, blood mention

There’s a thin line of light slipping through the crack beneath your closed bedroom door when you wake up. As you link the sleep out of your eyes, you notice the space beside you is still empty. In the darkness, you reach blindly to find your phone. The time flashes back at you, nearly blinding you. Jason must be home from patrol.

You rise out of bed, feet cold against the old wooden floor of your apartment and quietly tiptoe towards your bedroom door.

Sitting shirtless on the edge of your bathtub is Jason. He’s already watching the doorframe for you before you poke your head around the corner. Between his teeth is a length of gauze he’s measuring for his arm. Once your eyes adjust to the harsh light of the bathroom, you wince at the angry red gash running the width of Jason’s left arm.

A shiver runs up the length of your spine, your concern threatening to spill out of you. He’s watching you, waiting for your reaction. You tear your eyes away from the wound and look back up at him, swallowing the fear caught in your throat.

He frees the gauze from his teeth, and it flutters down into his lap. “You should go back to bed,” he says softly. The tone of voice is so gentle. If he speaks any louder, he could run the risk of waking you up too much.

This is new for the two of you. Jason hadn’t even really meant for you to find out he was Red Hood. And when you did, well, you kind of found out about everything. It’d been a whole thing that boiled down to you needing a little time to stomach it all. But you and Jason had been good the past few weeks. Things felt a little more like normal.

Jason has his guard up, but you can tell he’s trying to assess how bad the damage is. Not to him, not the physical wound, but to the relationship. To you.

Wordlessly, you cross into the bathroom and pick up the scissors sitting on top of the toilet seat. His eyes never leave you.

It’s odd how you feel like pray when loving Jason is like caring for a wounded animal. You want to ask what happened. You want to ask if he’s okay. But if you talk about it, if you acknowledge it too much, he’ll push you away. And you want to prove to him that you can handle this side of his life.

As you step towards him, Jason holds up the gauze again. You cut. The gauze falls down and hangs from Jason’s hand. Before he can start, you take gently take it away from him and kneel in front of him at the bathtub.

The wound is already clean. Jason’s already done all the hard work. Took care of himself while you slept silently in bed because he didn’t want to worry you. The thought drops into your stomach like a peach pit.

You wind the gauze around his arm until Jason makes a disgruntled noise. Your eyes shoot up, worried to have hurt him.

His face softens when your eyes meet. “Needs to be tighter,” he says, nudging his chin towards his arm.

You redo the wrapping, your eyes flickering back up towards Jason. He gives a small nod of approval. You wrap until the length is used and tape it off, pressing your lips gently above the wound before straightening up.

Jason smooths a hand over your jaw. Thank you.

“Go back to bed,” he says again.

“Only if you’re coming with,” you reply. Your hand runs down his uninjured arm and takes hold of his large hand.

Your millions of questions continue floating through your thoughts, but instead, you rise to your feet, pulling Jason up with you. He wraps an arm around your waist as soon as he’s standing beside you. “Give me a few minutes, then I’ll be there. Promise.”

Both your arms wind around his waist. You rest your head against him, fingertips gliding up and down the skin of his spine. “What do you need to do?” you ask.

“Gotta clean up,” Jason says. “I made a mess all over your sink.”

You glance behind you. Diluted blood is smeared across your sink, a few bloody towels sitting near the drain. “I’ll tae care of it,” you say.

Jason shakes his head. “Baby, no, go back to bed. I mean it. I’ll take care of it.”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me. I said I’ll take care of it. Go get in bed,” you shoot back playfully.

“It’ll take five minutes,” Jason replies.

You free your arms from around him and give him a little shove towards the bathroom door. He steps forward but doesn’t leave. He just keeps his eyes fixed on you, so decided against leaving you here. “Yes, exactly. And you’ve been out all night, so I can take care of it.”

“It’s not your mess,” he grumbles, and you know he’s not just talking about the blood.

“So? It doesn’t have to be for me to want to help you.”

Jason still lingers in the door. His gaze doesn’t stray from yours. It was one thing to wordlessly let you bandage him, but for some reason, he wants to draw the line at cleaning up his blood. Like the dirty work isn’t something you can handle. But that’s the point, what all of this is about; you can be there for him. You can help him. Wrapping up his wounds and cleaning up the blood is dipping your toes in the water.

Even if he doesn’t leave, you set to work cleaning out the sink and wringing out bloodied washcloths. You don’t push.

When the work is done, you flip off the light switch in the bathroom, taking Jason’s hand again and guiding him into the bedroom.

With the bathroom light off, your apartment is plunged back into darkness, but you both fall into the bed effortlessly. Your limbs wrap around each other as you huddle for warmth and comfort. Your fingertips till drag across his skin. His hand rests on the back of your head, his lips pressed against your forehead.

“Are you okay?” you finally ask. Your voice breaks the emptiness of the silence.

Jason tightens his grip on you a little more. “Yeah, I’m good.”

You kiss his shoulder. “Good.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you

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danikamariewrites · 9 months

Note

Hi! Could you write a story where the reader has a very high fever and she has nightmares and Azriel takes care of her? Thank you!

I adore your stories and you're one of my favorite writers.🤗

Fever Dreams

Azriel x reader

A/n: hi anon! Thank you that’s so kind of you to say. I hope you enjoy this, I love comfort!Az

Warnings: angst and comfort

A violent cough shakes your body as you reach for the glass of water on your bedside table. The lights in the room were dim due to your headache, making it hard to see the glass through your watery eyes. Azriel rubbed your back and handed you the water as your couch calmed down.

You had a fever for a few days thanks to the flu that was currently infecting the citizens of Velaris. Azriel didn’t want you to be alone so he had been working in the bedroom all week. Having Az take care of you was wonderful. He knew when you wanted space, made you your favorite foods, and cuddled you whenever you wanted. He didn’t care that you were sick, you needed him and that was all that mattered.

Once the glass was finally in your hands you gulped water down like your life depended on it. “Slow down or you’ll make yourself sick again, love.” Azriel said, pulling on the glass a little. You let go and Azriel takes it from your lips, setting back down on the table.

“I have to go talk to Rhys and Cass for a bit. Try and get some rest and I’ll be back soon.” He places a gentle kiss on your forehead before leaving. Az let out a disapproving hum at your temperature. The fact that your fever hadn’t broke yet was scaring him, but Madja had done all she could for now.

As you lay down you mumble an ok. Closing your eyes you hear the door close softly and Azriel’s footsteps receding down the hall. You shiver, your eyes getting heavy with sleep. You decide to give in and finally rest.

You were running as fast as you possibly could. It felt like you were getting nowhere. Finally, you crash through the door and fly down the stone stairs, following the screaming. Azriel’s screaming.

Your heart was pounding. Sweat dripped down your forehead. You come to a screeching halt at the end of the long hall. Your eyes going wide at the sickening sight in front of you. Azriel was chained to the wall, his back exposed and wings dripping blood.

One of stepbrothers was standing behind him holding a dagger, the other dancing his fingers over a table laden with an arrangement of weapons. You went to enter the room but bounced back at the threshold. They look at you, vile smirks on their faces as they taunt you. You felt faint, like you were about to empty the contents of your stomach on the floor.

You kept running and banging on the invisible barrier keeping you from your mate. The males mouths were moving but you couldn’t hear them. The one with the dagger made a slice on Azriel’s wing. You couldn’t hear their words, but they sure as hell made sure you could hear Azriel’s cries of pain.

One of the stepbrothers approaches the invisible barrier. A taunting smile on his lips as he intensely stares into your eyes. You get closer to the barrier, putting on a stone face. He slams his fist down in front of your face and you black out.

Jolting awake, you feel the cold sweat coating your body. Your heart was still racing as you whip your head around the dark room looking for Azriel. You were shaking violently. Between your sickness and the dream that felt too real your mind was confused.

You rip the tangled sheets from your body and drop to the floor on your hands and knees. Pulling yourself up you stumble over to the door. Your stomach squeezing with each step. Your bones ache and knees scream in protest of your movement.

It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. You had to see Azriel with your own eyes. Know that this sickness wasn’t caused by his wicked stepbrothers. Gods, you were so disoriented.

You finally made it to the hallway. The cool air from the open windows freezing the sweat on your body, easing some of your nausea. You hold yourself up on the wall as you hobble as fast as you can to Rhys’ office.

You’re so close to the door. Just a few more steps and you’ll be there. You notice Cassian coming up from the other end of the hall. He tilts his head in confusion at your hunched over frame. Noticing it’s you he runs over, grasping your arms to hold you up.

“Y/n? What are you doing out of bed?” His brows knit together and concern flashes in his eyes. You steady yourself on his broad chest, your eyes staying glued to the office door the whole time. “Y/n?” He says louder.

“Azriel.” You mumble out and push off him. “What about Az?” You keep walking to the door. Cassian finally notices you are far from ok. He steadys you from behind, flinging the door open. “Az!” He calls out in panic.

You free yourself from Cassian once more and quickly stumble to your mate. He clears the room in two long strides and scoops you into his arms. “Baby, what’s wrong?” Panic is clear in his face. His eyes roam over you. You lift your shaking arms to place your hands on the sides of his face.

“You’re ok.” Your words come out broken and scratchy thanks to your dry throat. “Yeah I’m ok. What happened, baby?” You lick your dry lips while trying to find your voice. “Bad dream.” He nods and starts to walk back to your room.

Azriel places you back down in bed. He leaves your side for a moment and you let out a cry. Thinking that if he walked away he would never come back. He returned a moment later with a cold wet cloth for your face. Placing it over your eyes you feel the bed dip next to you as he sits.

He runs his fingers through your hair slowly as he hums to calm you down. You feel your heart beat return to normal and your nausea die down. Your shaking stops and your body relaxes into the mattress. “Az?” He lifts the cloth so you can see him. “Thank you. For taking care of me.”

Azriel gives you a small smile and pulls you close to him. Snuggling into his side you feel yourself regain some strength. Like his presence is curing you. “You don’t need to thank me, my love. I’m your mate. It’s what I’m supposed to do.” You let out a hum and feel a wave of exhaustion hit you. Sleep claiming you again.

tags: @nyotamalfoy @auggiesolovey @bubybubsters @baybay123455 @msiecrane @aroseinvelaris @twsssmlmaa

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader imagine #acotar reader fic #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel fluff #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel imagine #azriel fic #azriel

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weemssapphic · 4 months

Text

Lipstick Stains - Pt. 16

previous chapter | next chapter | series page

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

summary: Wednesday gets herself into some trouble. (chapter-specific warning for smut)

words: ~ 4k | ao3 link in title

A/N: here's another chapter to make up for being gone so long! once again thank you to @afeatherformills for all of the planning and beta-ing, and to my gf as well. enjoy!!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Tuesday was one of the most hectic days you’d experienced since the start of the semester. You’d wanted to show up at Nevermore in the early evening, preventing Larissa from working even more overtime and spending as much time with her as possible - but now it was nearing 8 pm and you were still stuck in your university’s art studio, desperate to finish up a project that was due this week. You’d let Larissa know that you’d drop by a little later than planned, apologizing profusely and promising to text her when you were on your way. She said she didn’t mind, of course, but you still felt bad.

A nervous energy filled your entire being as you painted the last stroke on your canvas, then hurried to clean up after yourself. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you rushed out of the art studio and through the halls straight out to the parking lot. The only thing on your mind was getting to see Larissa as soon as possible - you shot her a text that you were on your way, then pulled out of the parking lot and started the drive to Nevermore.

You decided to take a shortcut tonight - usually you weren’t a fan of this route, especially late at night, as it was even more remote than your usual way and kind of gave you the creeps. But it would be worth it tonight, and in your hurry to be with Larissa you didn’t pay any mind to the miles upon miles of tall, dark trees looming on either side of the road or the light fog blanketing the street as you drove.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your phone screen light up from where you’d tossed it onto the seat next to you - with half an eye on the road, you leaned over and picked it up, glancing down.

Larissa: Drive safe, my love.

You smiled down at your phone, biting your lip as you dropped it into the cupholder next to you and looked back up at the road - your heart leaping as you found yourself slamming on the brakes to avoid hitting the girl running across the road towards a parked car.

Your car screeched to a halt, the girl illuminated by the glow of your headlights. She stared back at you with wide eyes, looking absolutely terrified - and vaguely familiar, with her blonde hair and pastel sweater. With your heart pounding, your eyes darted over to the side of the road and you felt your stomach drop. Wednesday. Whatever this was, it couldn’t be good.

Putting your car in park, you tentatively opened the door and stepped out onto the road, taking a step towards the blonde, who still stood inches away from the hood of your car. There was a loud clattering as the flashlight she held dropped onto the road.

Your gaze darted questioningly towards Wednesday, whose face was an impassive mask, impossible to read. She was flanked by two boys - one of whom you recognized as the Weathervane’s barista, though why his shirt was ripped open and covered in blood, you couldn’t fathom. You glanced behind them at the open gates leading up to a huge, desolate mansion, overgrown with weeds and vines - it made a shiver run down your spine, and made your blood go cold as you imagined these kids out here alone.

“Dare I ask?”

“Do you know her?” one of the boys asked Wednesday. She opened her mouth to speak, but the next words came out of the mouth of the young blonde who was practically trembling in front of you.

“She’s Weems’ girlfriend.”

“I-” you felt your cheeks heat up at the interested glance the boy then afforded you. You swallowed thickly - there was no point in playing coy now, not when you were standing on a remote street in the middle of the night with a bunch of teenagers who were clearly hurt. “Yeah, I am. I’m gonna take a wild guess and say that she doesn’t know about this and that you’re not supposed to be out here?”

When you received no answer, your gaze darted back over to the mansion. It was definitely giving you the creeps, and you weren’t keen on wasting any more time standing out here in the cold staring at it. “Well either way, can I take you guys back to Nevermore?”

“Yes, please!” the blonde exclaimed - though she was quickly cut off by Wednesday.

“Tyler is hurt, we need to get him home first.”

“I can do that,” you said gently.

“What about my car?”

You raised your eyebrow at the boy who’d spoken, whose chest was practically ripped open and dripping blood. “Pick it up in the morning,” you suggested firmly. “I don’t think you should drive like that.”

He looked like he was about to argue, but then he winced in pain as he stepped forward. “Fine. My dad’s gonna kill me…”

With another nervous glance towards the mansion, you gestured towards your car - the blonde immediately picked up her flashlight and got in the passenger side. The two boys looked to Wednesday, waiting for her lead. After another moment’s hesitation, she got into the back of your car, the boys squeezing in next to her.

You grabbed your phone, unlocking it and handing it to Tyler. “Put your address in Google Maps.” He obliged, handing you the phone back with an address in Jericho - you started the car again, driving a little faster than usual to put the creepy old house behind you.

“What happened to your chest?” you asked with a glance in the rearview mirror. Tyler caught your gaze, then looked nervously down at Wednesday.

“He was attacked.”

“By…?”

The other boy interjected, giving you a distrustful glare. “The bear that’s been all over the news.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “He’s lucky to have gotten away then.”

The kids remained silent for the remainder of the drive, sharing looks amongst themselves. Once you reached Tyler’s house, they hopped out of the car, escorting Tyler inside. You trailed in behind them - at the other boy’s raised eyebrow, you told him you weren’t driving back to Nevermore without Larissa’s students.

Wednesday took a few minutes to patch Tyler up - the blonde girl (Enid, as you’d come to learn) sat off to the side, openly panicking until Tyler’s wound was dressed and you managed to usher the three Nevermore students back out to your car to drive them back to school. Before pulling out onto the road, you shot Larissa another text.

Y/N: I’m sorry, I had to get gas. I’ll be there in 10.

Okay, so it was definitely a lie, but there was no use worrying her prematurely - you’d figure out how to explain the situation in person.

“I didn’t know Weems was a lesbian.”

“Xavier!” Enid exclaimed, turning in her seat to glare at the boy. You looked into the rearview mirror with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m sure there are a lot of things your principal doesn’t feel the need to share with you,” you replied coolly.

“You can’t tell her we were out, though,” Enid said, her voice laced with panic. “Nevermore is on lockdown, if she finds out she’ll expel us.”

“I’m sure she won’t expel you,” you replied softly, trying to sound comforting as you chewed at your lip. Would she?

~~~

The decision of whether or not to tell Larissa about her students being out during lockdown was taken from your hands, however, when the four of you entered the school. Wednesday turned the corner towards the stairs first, stopping abruptly and looking up to the landing - Enid stopped dead in her tracks next to you, her eyes widening in fear.

Larissa’s voice sounded from the top of the stairs. “Ms. Addams, I see you’ve found your way back to campus.”

Enid glanced up at you, biting her lip. You placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’ll be okay,” you whispered, leading her around the corner with Xavier trailing behind you.

Larissa stood on the landing of the staircase, glaring down at Wednesday. Her eyes immediately darted over to you when you came into sight with Enid and Xavier in tow and her brow furrowed. You could see her lip quivering as confusion and uncertainty filled her gaze. “Would someone care to explain to me what is going on?” She both looked and sounded furious. “I’ve just received a phone call from the sheriff, who informed me that he came home to find his son injured.”

“I drove him home,” you offered. Larissa’s eyes darted from Wednesday to you, drinking you in carefully and taking in the way you were squeezing Enid’s shoulder. “I took a shortcut here and ran into them, I gave them a lift.” You smiled apologetically - Larissa’s gaze softened a fraction, though she still looked both angry and worried.

“I was beginning to worry. About all of you.” Her voice caught in her throat and you suddenly felt guilt pool in the pit of your stomach for worrying her.

“I’m sorry,” you mouthed, watching the almost imperceptible upward curl of Larissa’s lips in acknowledgment of your apology, before the smile was replaced with a deep frown as she directed her attention back to her students.

“Mr. Thorpe, Miss Sinclair, I’d like to ask you to come to my office tomorrow to discuss disciplinary action for violating lockdown. For now, please go straight back to your dorms. I’d like to speak with Miss Addams alone.”

Enid met your gaze - after a moment’s hesitation, she pulled you into a tight hug, before turning and walking dejectedly up the stairs. Larissa watched her go, a mixture of disappointment and something else you couldn’t quite place in her gaze.

“Um, I’ll wait in your office?” you suggested, biting the inside of your cheek as you watched Larissa carefully.

“Please.” Larissa’s tone was just a hint softer when she spoke with you, sapphire eyes swimming with emotion.

You nodded and made your way up the stairs - as you passed by her, Larissa reached out to give your hand a squeeze. You could barely make out the sound of her scolding Wednesday as you disappeared down the corridor towards the office.

~~~

It didn’t take long at all for Larissa to come back to her office - you were sitting on the sofa in front of the fireplace, picking nervously at your nails when the door swung open and then slammed shut. You didn’t bother turning around as you heard the click of Larissa’s heels come closer and closer, until they were right behind you.

“Darling,” Larissa sighed, pressing her lips to the crown of your head. She buried her nose into your hair, breathing you in as her arms wrapped around your shoulders from behind. “You took so long, I nearly called the police.”

You twisted in her grip to look up at her, rushing to explain yourself and stumbling over your words. “I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to break it to you over the phone that I found Wednesday standing outside of an abandoned old mansion with her friends in the middle of the night without worrying you even more.”

Larissa chuckled, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “I suppose you’re right, I don’t think that would have assuaged my worries…” She opened her eyes, looking directly into your own and cupping your cheek ever so gently. “I’m extremely glad you’re alright, though.” Her lips pressed against yours in a soft kiss that took your breath away with its tenderness. “Thank you for looking after them and taking them home.”

“Of course.” You hesitated for a moment. “You aren’t going to expel them, are you? Enid is very worried.”

“I’m not going to expel them,” Larissa confirmed, straightening up and walking over to a little cabinet in the corner of the room. “But Wednesday is on thin ice. I can’t afford to give that girl any more chances.” She let out a deep sigh as she turned to face you again, approaching the sofa with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“What were they even doing out there?”

Larissa rolled her eyes as she settled next to you, pouring a generous amount of red into each of the glasses. “Wednesday is convinced there’s a monster behind those attacks, and that she can find out what it is.”

You nodded your head slowly, mulling over the information carefully. “And what do you think it is?”

“It’s just a bear,” she said with a sigh, her gaze dropping to the flames in the fireplace, watching them flicker and dance. The worry in her eyes was not lost on you but she seemed unwilling to talk about it further, so you decided to drop the subject. For now. Larissa handed you one of the glasses - you clinked it against hers, causing her lips to curl into a small smile.

“Seems like it’s been quite the semester - my high school wasn’t nearly as interesting,” you said playfully, causing Larissa to chuckle.

“There’s always something happening at Nevermore, but it’s been an unusual semester even for myself…” She took a sip of her wine, humming softly and kicking her heels off so that she could put her feet up on the sofa, turning to face you. She slid her feet towards you until her toes were stuck underneath your thigh - even through your jeans, you could feel how cold they were.

“Jesus, Riss, you’re freezing,” you said with a laugh, leaning away from her and trying to shoo her away. She pouted, sliding her feet out farther and chasing your warmth. You rolled your eyes and placed your glass down on the coffee table. “Fine, come here.”

Larissa’s pout turned into a satisfied smirk when you lifted her feet onto your lap, your hands providing her with some warmth. “What would you do without me?” you teased.

“I’d be living a sad life, indeed. And I’d be freezing constantly,” she teased back, taking a sip of her wine. Her gaze softened a fraction and she rested her head on the back of the sofa, watching you with a relaxed, pensive look on her face.

“What?” you whispered, feeling your cheeks grow warm under her gaze.

“Nothing,” she whispered back. “I’m just lucky to have you, that’s all.”

“I’m the lucky one.”

“Don’t even try to argue with me on that one, darling.”

You smiled, biting your lip - of course you were ready to argue that point until your face went blue. Subconsciously, your hands began to rub Larissa’s feet, trying to get them warm. As your thumbs soothed over a pressure point on the arch of her foot, Larissa’s eyelids fluttered shut and a barely audible moan left her lips. Watching her face carefully, you repeated the movement - her lips parted slightly, her eyelids fluttered.

You began alternating between using your thumbs and your knuckles to loosen up the muscles in her feet - every movement of your hands caused Larissa to moan louder and deeper, her cheeks reddening as she seemed unable to control the noises she was making. You paused in your massage, leaning over her and plucking the glass out of her hand, setting it aside.

“Lay back,” you instructed. Larissa’s eyes opened and you could see how turned on she was from how wide her pupils had gotten. She nodded, leaning back against the armrest of the sofa and wiggling a bit to get comfortable. You settled at her feet, continuing the massage, your eyes never leaving Larissa’s face as it relaxed once again. This time, though, you moved your hands higher, rubbing your fingers against her calves and really kneading into her muscles. You took your time with her, delighting in every moan and groan that you were able to extract from the blonde beneath you, every breathy sigh and pleased hum that left her lips.

Once you reached her knees, you pushed her dress up her thighs - though you quickly found that it was a bit too tight to go as far as you’d have liked. “Can I take it off?” you murmured sweetly, waiting for an affirming hum before pulling it as far up Larissa’s body as you could - she sat up to help you pull it the rest of the way off of her body, and you tossed it to the floor.

Settling back between her legs, you returned to massaging Larissa’s calves - nice and slow, reveling in the supple softness of her skin, switching between each leg. The blonde relaxed under your touch, her eyes falling shut again and her head tipping back against the armrest of the sofa.

You couldn’t help but stare at the ethereal woman before you, desire pooling in your core as you drank her in. The flames flickered and danced, illuminating the soft curves of her torso, catching on the off-white fabric of her bra, bouncing off the golden necklace she wore and kissing her neck. Her lace-clad breasts, her stomach, her face - all cast in shadow. She was the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen - a divine, heavenly creature who seemed to exude a light of her own, one that you were all too happy to bask in.

This time your hands didn’t stop as you reached her knees - you began massaging her thighs, your firm touch becoming lighter the higher you went as Larissa’s breath grew heavier, her moans giving way to soft gasps. When you reached her upper, inner thigh, you leaned in, replacing your hands with your tongue - this elicited a shuddering whimper from the blonde, who arched her back off the sofa. Her hands, which had been folded over her stomach, came to rest on your head, fingers curling into your hair and tugging gently.

“Is this okay?” you whispered, your mouth inches away from her cunt. There was a wet spot at the center of her panties and you felt your own arousal grow at the sight.

“Yes, darling.” Larissa’s voice was breathy with desire and she spread her legs wider, gently pushing your head towards her center.

You chuckled at her neediness and began to press featherlight kisses to each thigh, alternating as you got closer and closer to where she needed you most. The scent of her arousal filled your nostrils - it was enough to make you slightly dizzy, drool pooling in your mouth. You placed a gentle kiss to her clit over her underwear, then used your teeth to tug at the waistband of the lacy panties - Larissa moved her hips to make it easier for you to pull them down her body.

Returning to your position between her legs, you used the tip of your tongue to lick a path up her slit. She bucked her hips up into your mouth, her hands returning to your hair and twisting so hard that it hurt a bit - the pain felt delicious in contrast to the pleasurable throbbing of your own clit, and you squeezed your thighs together to relieve some of the tension so that you could focus on Larissa and her pleasure.

You allowed your tongue to explore her folds, slowly getting drunk on the taste of her and losing yourself in the sheer ecstasy that came with feeling her drip onto your tongue, knowing that her arousal was all for you. A pleased moan clawed its way out of your throat, vibrating against Larissa’s pussy and drawing an equally filthy groan from her own throat.

She began to gyrate her hips against your face, setting a fast pace which you met with eager licks. Red-tipped nails scratched at your head as she tugged your hair, drawing more whimpers from your lips which went through Larissa’s body like shockwaves of pleasure.

As Larissa’s moans became louder and more animalistic, your arousal grew, until the ache between your own thighs was impossible to ignore. You found yourself reaching between your legs, rubbing your hand desperately against your cunt, through the fabric of your jeans. The pressure wasn’t nearly enough and you growled in frustration, fumbling with the button and forcing your hand inside your underwear.

That first touch against your clit felt like heaven - it was nearly more than you could handle as you continued to suck Larissa’s clit. You gathered your wetness on your fingers, smearing it eagerly over your sensitive bundle of nerves and moaning loudly as you matched the pace of your fingers to that of your tongue, your eyes fluttering shut.

“Are you touching yourself?” Larissa’s voice was gravelly and low, and you opened your eyes to find she’d lifted her head to meet your gaze - she looked down at you through hooded eyes, her cheeks gorgeously flushed.

“Mmmh, yeah,” you mumbled, not bothering to stop sucking her clit as you replied. Larissa’s eyes nearly rolled back in her head, and she dropped her head back against the armrest again with a mumbled “fuck”.

Your desire was building more by the second and you could tell that Larissa was close, too, as her thighs began to tremble and the rolling of her hips became somewhat erratic.

“You close?” you murmured breathily, just loud enough for Larissa to hear.

“Y-yes - ah - ‘mm close…”

“Cum with me?” The words had barely left your mouth as you felt your orgasm wash over you, every muscle in your body tightening as you came. You let out a strangled groan and both your tongue and your hands stuttered in their movements, even as you tried desperately to keep a steady pace. Larissa’s orgasm soon followed, a direct response to hearing you cum, her thighs snapping shut around your head as she reached her peak.

Her hands tightened in your hair, holding you firmly in place to keep her riding her high for as long as possible. You only let up when she released your hair from her grip and allowed her thighs to fall to the side. You pulled back slightly, breathing heavily from your own orgasm and trying to calm your pounding heart when you felt Larissa’s fingers grip your chin. You allowed her to guide you up towards her, your lips meeting hers in a heated, passionate kiss.

~~~

Larissa let go of your chin as you kissed, placing her hands on your waist and pulling you snugly against her. Her own heart was hammering away in her chest, her breathing hard and uneven.

“I really needed that,” she said after a few moments, her voice still hoarse and shaky. Your laugh vibrated against her chest, the sound filling her heart with joy.

“Happy to help,” you quipped, causing Larissa to giggle. You propped yourself up above her, reaching behind her neck to take off her necklace and gingerly lay it on the table so that you could rest your head against her chest.

“Mmm, better,” you mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of her cleavage before resting your cheek against her and letting out a contented sigh.

“Will you stay tonight? I don’t want you driving home alone…”

“Yeah, of course. But you know, I don’t think I’d get attacked by a bear from inside my car or anything.”

Larissa’s stomach churned uncomfortably. She didn’t know how much longer she could continue lying to you about the monster roaming Jericho’s woods - she didn’t want to lie to you, after all. But fear held her back - the fear that your acceptance of her and her world, of outcasts, wasn’t as all-encompassing as she’d like to believe. The fear that, once you found out that it was an outcast - a hyde - responsible for the attacks, for the many deaths, you’d never look at her the same way again. That you’d see her as dangerous. She swallowed thickly.

“I don’t care. I can’t risk anything happening to you - I was worried sick tonight. I don’t want you out in this area alone at night.”

“Okay, okay. I promise, I’ll stay the night and I won’t go out on my own.” You raised your arm to give her a mock salute, trying to lighten the mood.

Larissa let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. As you nuzzled your cheek against her chest, she felt both an overwhelming sense of relief and a gnawing sense of guilt. Her arms tightened around you and she sighed into your hair, squeezing her eyes shut to stop a single tear from sliding down her cheek.

Taglist: @littledollll @nlr-33 @mysaviorfalsegod @imlike-so-gaydude @rainbow-hedgehog @enchantressb @alder-saan @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @amateurwritescm @brienneswife @principal-weems09 @messynessi @larissaoftarthweems @anti-bright-places @lvinhs @catechristiesstuff @ladyzmilf002 @milfsloverblog @opheliauniverse @orangeisnttheonlyfruit @im-a-carnivorous-plant @alexusonfire @bigolgay @kimiinou @wastdstime @scream-queenlover @imprincipalweemspet @justcallmelittleone @willowshadenox @milfsloverblog @leftoverenvy @yahaqueen @peggycarter3 @lilfartbox1 @makemyworldworthliving @crow-raven-crow @mosscoveredcrucifix @opalthefrog @barbarasstar

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#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #principal weems x reader #lipstick stains #lipstick stains series

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rebeliz7 · 9 months

Text

More than anything

Wanda Maximoff x Super Soldier!Reader

Warnings: Killgrave shenanigans - forced acts - descriptions of blood - fighting - quite a bit of fighting.

Request: What about a Wanda maximoff x powered fem reader where Killgrave gets to the reader and forces her to fight the avengers and try to kill them and Wanda is the only one who can stop her.

Word Count: 4520

…

You don’t believe in bad omens. At least you’ve never been one to pay that sort of thing any mind.

When you enter Tony’s lab and you notice him atop a large iron ladder, trying to reach a vent, you’re wondering why he isn’t using one of his suits to levitate so high that you end up walking right underneath the open ladder.

The weird this is---you notice it, and a weird heavy weight settles in the pit of your stomach because of it.

“That’s bad luck, you know?” Sam tells you as he walks inside as well.

“It’s just a ladder, Wilson.” You try to brush it off but he shrugs his shoulders, and you kind of hate him for telling you that.

“Not what my mom used to say.” He says, but you keep the comeback to yourself this time.

It’s not what Wanda says either, and although you don’t believe in that kind of thing, you’re still aware of superstitions and always try to avoid ‘poking the bear’.

You talk with Tony and leave his lab quickly. It’s not until much later that you remember this particular moment and that damn ladder.

…

The mission was a simple one. Get in, detain the suspects, free the hostages. Simple.

Simple is the furthest from your current situation though.

When you got to the scene earlier, you quickly noticed the swarm of people willing to fight anyone who tried to get in. The odd part about it is---they all seem to be fighting against their will, as if someone’s forcing them, controlling them.

“Something isn’t right.” You speak through your coms, as you press your back against a near wall to catch your breath.

“Talk to me.” Natasha’s voice comes through quickly, but so does another attack.

You barely avoid the iron bar coming to your head, only to come face to face to the guy that’s gripping said bar with trembling hands and tears running down his pale cheeks.

You watch him for a split second, but he’s fighting against what he’s doing and the same feeling that washes over you when you walked inside Tony’s lab makes a comeback.

That damn ladder.

“Something’s not right, Nat.” You respond, avoiding the guy’s attacks again but refusing to attack him back.

He screams, coming at you with more attacks, one after another. Taking pity of him, you take the bar off his hands and slap him across the face. He falls unconscious and you catch his body before it hits the ground to lay him down gently.

“These people are not right.” You tell the team through the coms again, eyes still on the guy that’s on the floor.

You have a terrible feeling.

“I agree. It’s like they don’t want to be here. Someone just apologized to me before attacking.” Sam’s voice comes through, and you decide to leave. Better to leave now, and come back with more information than fighting in the dark like this.

The reports said that you need to stop a group of individuals who are dangerous and seem to be enhanced in some unknown ways, and have been causing mayhem across town. You haven’t seen anyone enhanced so far but that’s not to say that something isn’t right.

“What do we have here?” A voice speaks, making you halt in your step and turn around slowly.

A guy, shorter than you and much more skinny, smiles at you. Involuntary shivers run down your spine at the sight of his creepy smile, but you still assess him.

British accent, in his early forties, purple suit and one hundred percent creepy.

“Who are you?” You ask him but he just smiles, and walks closer to you.

“Drop the mics, darling.” The shot of electricity that runs through you at hearing his command, feels like a bucket of ice cold water dripping down your back.

You do as he says, without resistance and when it’s done, panic begins to build up in the pit of your stomach. You’re terrified.

“What’s happening?” You ask him, your voice an octave higher and he simply smiles.

“No talking on your part for now. I’m going to do the talking, and you’re going to listen. Speak only when I tell you to.” He says and tears spring to your eyes when you realize that you can’t talk, even though you want to. “That’s better.” He smiles.

This is what’s happening here. All these people were ordered by this guy to fight you and now you see it. You need to warn the team, but you don’t know how.

“First of all,” he says as he runs a finger down your jacket clad arm, making you shiver involuntarily. “Take this off, it's way too hot for anyone to be wearing leather.”

Every cell in your body wants to protest at this particular command, but you take off the jacket just like he wants you to and drop it on the ground.

You know that you have to warn the others, you have to fight him, you have to stop him---but you can’t move, you can’t even talk.

“Come over here.” He tells you as he enters a room that leads you down a dark hallway, and you silently follow him.

“Smile, darling. You’re looking way too serious.” He says over his shoulder and you feel your lips rising up on the edges, and you’re smiling so wide that it’s hurting your cheeks but you continue to do it because you have to and that’s all that matters.

Doing what he says it’s all that matters.

“Break this door.” He orders next, when you stand in front of a wooden locked door and without a question you kick it open for him.

“You remind me of someone.” He says with a bit of melancholy in his tone but when he catches sight of your face, he grimaces and flinches back. “Stop smiling now, you’re creeping me out.” He laughs, and you stop immediately.

“You’re an Avenger, right?” He asks as he guides you down some stairs. “I saw the mighty Captain before I found you all alone in those stairs. Lucky me. Answer.”

“I’m a Winter Soldier.” You answer, and he claps his hands in delight.

“Oh, this is fantastic! You and I are gonna have so much fun together. Yes, we will!”

He guides you to an underground parking lot and then hands you the keys of a car before getting in the passenger seat, and you follow suit.

“Be a darling and drive us out of this mess, would you?” He says offhandedly, bored, and you turn on the engine before backing up.

You drive away from the building and your team doesn’t notice, no one is following you and you want to ask him what will happen with the people he's leaving behind but you still can’t talk freely.

“Take me somewhere safe.” He says after five minutes on the road, and you immediately think of safe houses. “A place where the Avengers won’t find us.” He clarifies and you nod at him.

Pictures of places where the Avengers would never find you pop in you head at his request, and you turn the car around. He smiles, a look you can’t comprehend passing through his eyes, and then your cell phone rings.

“Who is calling you?” He asks as you retrieve your phone promptly, you see the picture of your girlfriend on the screen and your vision becomes a bit blurry around the edges with the blink of your eyes.

“My girlfriend.” You tell him and he takes the phone from you, studies the picture for a hot second and then gives it back to you.

“Answer. Tell her that you’ve taken another route back. Tell her you’re okay and that you’ll see her soon.”

Something within you wants to fight back but you slide your fingers across the screen to answer anyway, because you need to do as he says.

“Hey, babe.” You answer casually.

“Where are you? Are you okay?” Wanda asks, sounding agitated. “Your coms are down.”

“I’m okay. I’m taking another route back to the Compound.” You tell her, the lie falling easily off your lips and you feel sick to your stomach.

“Why? What happened?” Wanda asks and you can hear the worry in her voice but you need to say what he told you to say, nothing else matters.

“I’m okay. I’ll see you soon.” You end the call at once and the man smiles at you, and when he stretches out his hand you place your phone on the palm of his hand willingly.

He doesn’t speak for the rest of the ride but you feel him watching you, and you can’t resist him at all even though somewhere in the back of your mind you know that you need to.

When you arrive at a place that you know he’ll be alright, he takes a deep breath before sitting at the head of the dining table, as if this has always been a place known to him and you are an old friend.

“Come, sit with me.” You sit to his right and with a finger on his lips he seems to be deep in thought.

You’re shaking, afraid out of your mind because the more time you spend with him the more you realize that nothing else matters to you.

Still, you try to resist the urge.

“Why were the Avengers there today?” He asks after a beat.

“We were asked to help by the local police.”

“Do they know of me?” He asks and you shake your head. “That’s grand. That’s fantastic! Now!” He claps his hands again, his smile never wavering. “A Winter Soldier, you said?”

“Yes.”

“That makes you just as strong as Captain America.”

“Yes.”

“Just as lethal as good old Barnes, right?”

“Yes.”

Your head is fuzzy, like you can’t think of anything else besides this man and his words.

“I want you to kill them all.” He says and your head spins, but you don’t know why. All you know is that you need to do as he asks. “I want you to kill all the Avengers and when that’s done I need you back here with me. I have plans for us.”

…

You secure the safe house before you leave. You know exactly where to find the Avengers, you know exactly how to kill them all and you have an order.

You ditch your car a mile away from the Compound, and you make your way inside without any resistance. You know this place like the back of your hand after all.

You could just walk through the front door, you realize, but the rifle in your hand would be too suspicious to not raise any alarms. You need them dead, and you need them dead quickly so you can go back to that man.

You have so many options to take them out, so many ways that they won’t even see coming.

Groaning to yourself, you keep on walking, trying to ignore why there’s a knot around your throat or why the thought of killing these Avengers pains you so. All you know is that you have an order and you need to fulfill it, you need to do as he asked.

Nothing else matters.

You could wait for everyone to go to bed first, but Friday would send an alarm to everyone the moment it recognizes that it’s being hacked and you can’t be found out just yet. You’ll do this without hacking into Friday, it seems.

…

You place bombs on every getaway route and wait. The moment the bombs go off, you know Friday will lock them in, activating security protocols.

When the bombs go off, and everyone tries to run out you’re waiting at the perfect spot for them.

Sam is the first one to run out. He breaks one of the large windows in the common room, but he doesn’t make it further. You put a bullet in his shoulder, on the only blank spot of his suit just as he’s about to take off flying.

He falls backwards with force and you curse under your breath. The bullet should have gone into his head, that was the right thing to do. Now he’s injured and in the blue.

Kill them, he said.

You have a clear shot to his jugular and you shoot.

The bullet ricochetes off Captain America’s shield, who just came out through the same window to his help. You instantly try to point at the new target, but Steve throws his shield at you in a split second.

Rolling backwards, you barely avoid being hit by his shield. Not missing a beat you get ready to shoot again but the look on Steve’s face makes you take a stop.

“What?” He asks himself, confused. You shake your head, fighting against the cloud of fogginess that’s taking over your vision and the ripping pain that threatens to break you from the inside out.

Throwing the rifle to the ground, you decide to jump down and meet them halfway but not before checking your chest for wounds. This pain---this pain feels too real to be anything other than physical.

You don’t know what’s happening anymore. You just know that you need them dead. You need to do as the man said.

“What is happening?” Wanda asks, finally making an appearance and your eyes meet hers across the yard.

You want to go to her---but she’s an Avenger.

“She did this.” Steve tells her and you take a deep breath. You need them dead, you need them all dead.

Not waiting another second, you leap for him, punching him in the jaw before he can see you coming. You need him dead, you just need the Avengers dead. That’s all you know, that’s all you need to do.

Steve fights back, although still confused and reluctant to do so. When he punches you in the jaw, something crosses your mind, recognition.

He punches you again, making you take several steps back. You need them dead, don’t you?

Looking up, you catch sight of your own reflection in one of the larger windows and you become so dizzy that you almost lose your balance where you stand.

What are you doing?

“Why are you doing this? You have to stop!” Steve tells you but you’re staring at your reflection because you’re crying, and your tears seem to expand the pain in your chest---your chest that isn’t injured.

“I have to kill you.” You tell him as you turn around to face him one more time.

Steve frowns, blood dripping down the side of his mouth where you punched him before. The need to scream overtakes you, even more so when you see Sam bleeding out on the ground and Wanda---Wanda who doesn’t seem to be able to move, too confused by what you’re doing.

You see her in your peripheral vision a second too late. Natasha comes at you from the shadows, and she’s hard to pin down.

One of her bites hit you in the back, making you fall to your knees, the electricity of it making you grow in pain. Not that it’s enough to keep you down, and she knows it.

Next, she jumps on your shoulders with one of her signature moves but you’re ready for her this time around. You grab her hair in a tight grip around your fist and pull her forward with all your strenght.

Her back hits the ground hard and you’re so worked up, that you go after her without a pause. You raise your boot clad foot to stomp on her face but someone pulls you back, making you stumble before you realize who’s come to Natasha’s rescue.

Steve looks pained, his lip has swollen and you can’t seem to shake the look of Natasha’s terrified expression off your head.

You need them dead. You just need them dead. You need to do as he said.

Attacking Steve for a second time is far easier, you know him and you know his weak spots. He grows tired after only a few minutes, as if he’s no match for you at all, and you know you can finish him.

You almost have him, you can do this fast and you can be back to the man before midnight. You need to get back to him because he has plans.

Bleeding and tired yourself, you manage to get a hold of his shield. You can taste blood on your tongue, tears running down your cheeks and you’re about to finally end him.

He’s on the ground and you can end him with one hit of his own shield---one single blow and he’ll be dead. You have to.

“No.” A voice echoes in your ears, inside your head---it vibrates all throughout your body, you feel it in your veins.

“No.” The voice says again, cutting through the fogginess of your brain like a well sharpened knife, and the pain is unbearable.

“Stop!” You scream, as you let go of the shield and you fall to the ground, hands on your head and rolling on the grass.

The pain is blinding---it feels like your head is splitting in half. You can’t take it.

“Darling, you need to stop.” The voice says and you scream louder, unable to take the pain that comes with that voice. It’s scrambling your brain, you can feel it.

“Please.” The voice begs, broken and strained.

“Stop!” You scream back, finally recognizing the voice.

You have to kill them. You have to kill them, that’s all that matters.

“He’s controlling you.” Wanda says, still in your head, her voice resonating only for your ears.

But you need to go back to him, you need them dead. He’s waiting for you.

“No, you don’t.” Wanda says, replying to your thoughts. “You don’t need to go back to him. You need to be here. With me. With us. We’re your family.”

Screaming, your voice carries out as you punch the ground so hard that the dirt gives in with the force of your fists.

You can see the forgiveness of your brain slowly lifting, as if it were a drape and someone is finally opening it, letting the light come through.

It takes a moment for it to sink in, but that blinding need to do as the man told you to do, still palpates within you, although not as strong.

You catch sight of Steve, bleeding on the floor where you left him. His face is bloody, his left eye shut closed and swollen---you almost don’t recognize him, and you did that to him.

Your hands are splashed with his blood and dirt, and you’re shaking.

“I need to do this.” You speak out loud. “I need to do this.”

Wanda’s close to you now, tears running down her cheeks as she reaches for you.

You clutch her hands desperately, but she’s firm as she takes your face and forces you to look at her, although you can’t meet her eyes.

“Look at me.” She says but her lips aren’t moving, she’s still in your head. “Look at me.”

Hesitantly, you meet her hazel eyes. She’s so strong right now, stronger than you ever thought possible.

“You have to fight it. You have to fight him out of your mind.” She tells you.

“You don’t understand.” You cry, head shaking as his command unravels through you. “I need to do what he asked me to do. I need to.”

“No.” She fiercely tells you, her hands anchoring you. “Fight him back.” She orders you---and something within you breaks free.

The light pours in and the pain is so devastating that you fall backwards, clutching your head as everything overwhelms you.

You scream until your voice begins to waver, until your head feels as if it’s been chopped off and replaced.

“I can’t.” You cry out when you still need to do as he said, only now you’re aware of it. You know what he asked and you know how wrong it is.

“Listen to me.” Wanda’s voice orders again, and you will yourself to listen. “You’re stronger than this.”

You’re not, you’re really not. You can’t fight this command.

“I love you so much.” Wanda tells you as you try to stay concious. “I love you and I need you to fight him out. Do it.”

“I lo - ” Your voice is hoarse and a sob breaks through your lips when you look at her. “I lo - I love you too.”

She sends you a small smile in return and you focus on the images that she’s putting in your head, images of the two of you together and you let her wander your mind until you inevitably pass out.

…

You wake up with a start, and one hell of a headache. You’re in the medbay and Wanda is sleeping right next to you, her arm firmly wrapped around your middle protectively and you don’t know what to do.

“You kicked our asses.” Natasha casually says from a nearby chair that you didn’t notice before.

Her voice comes accompanied by a wave of guilt that washes over you mercilessly. Especially when you look at her face and catch the fresh bruises adorning it. Bruises that you put there.

Tears rush to your eyes as everything comes back to you, and you can’t get a grip of yourself.

“I’m so sorry.” You cry, begging for her forgiveness. Nat’s quick to walk over to you though, and press her lips on your temple for a few long seconds.

“None of that.” She assures you when she leans back and takes your hand with both of hers. “We tracked your phone. We took precautions and we caught him. He’s on his way to the Rift as we speak. He’ll never get to you, or anyone again.”

You almost bolt out of the bed at hearing that anyone else could have been in close proximity to that man, but Wanda holds you tighter.

“We got him.” She tells you softly and close to your ear, making you cry even harder.

You cry for long minutes that feel like an eternity.

You were a Winter Soldier, you’ve been that kind of slave but back then you didn’t know anything, you didn’t know what you were missing, you didn’t even know who you were.

This man made you a slave while you could still remember your name and the people that you love, he made you go after them and turned your head into a mess in order for you to do what he wanted you to.

“I love you.” Wanda murmurs in your ear again, and again and you hold her just as tight.

If it weren’t for her---you don’t even want to think about what could have happened if it weren’t for her.

You only raise your head when you hear pouring, and you find Liho walking on your legs. He immediately pokes your mouth with his head and your nose throbs in pain, and you remember that Steve broke it.

“They’re okay.” Wanda says, her hand on Liho’s head and her lips pressing fleeting kisses on the corner of your lips, as if she can’t be away from you. “Nothing they can’t recover from.”

“They’ll be fine.” Natasha says offhandedly as she picks up her cat from your chest and you grip Wanda’s arm to keep her close. “I’m gonna take this one up for some food, and I’ll put something together for dinner. Come up in thirty.”

You nod, still a bit uncertain that you deserve her care after what happened but thankful nonetheless.

“Thanks, Nat.” Wanda says for the both of you and then she sits up on the bed, her hands never leaving yours. You watch as she kisses your bruised knuckles, and you love her so much that your breath comes out short.

“I think I knew.” You say and she gives you her entire attention. “When I shot Sam, I knew I should shoot him in the head, but I still shot him in the shoulder.”

“You were struggling. You were fighting him even before I intervened.” She says, leaning down to wipe away your tears and to kiss you softly. You cup her face and return her kiss.

“I could have used the rifle on Stev,e but I didn’t.” You tell her next and she nods, a proud smile on her lips.

“I know.”

“Do you think they’ll forgive me?” You ask her, and she kisses you again.

“There wasn’t a moment when Steve thought that you were doing that on your own.” She tells you and then points to her head, you know she’s telling you the truth because she saw inside of his head. “Sam is slightly disappointed that he didn’t get to kick your ass but he didn’t doubt you either. Neither did Natasha.”

“And you?” You ask, your hand on her shoulder, keeping her close and revealing the weight of her body half on top of yours even if you’re hurting, even if you can still feel Steve’s fists colliding with your ribs.

“I believe in you.” She says, her lips close to yours. “I love you more than anything.”

You pull her closer and kiss her until you can’t take the pain on your nose, and she pulls back with a smile on her lips. You don’t know how you got this lucky, you don’t even know how she made her way into your life or how you made your way into hers.

But God! You love her.

“Thank you.” You tell her as you remember the things that she made you see when you were struggling. She showed you the first time she saw you, the first time she wanted to kiss you, your first kiss, images of you two watching a movie and grocery shopping, small things that pulled you right out of the nightmare you were living.

“You continue to save me.” She frowns at hearing your words and you kiss the palm of her hand. “You came into my life and everything changed.”

“So did you.” She softly says and you smile.

“I love you more than anything too.” You tell her and she kisses you again.

You’ll have to apologize to Steve and Sam, but for now you can just kiss your girlfriend and be grateful that you didn’t do anything that can’t be undone.

Liho jumps on your bed soon after though, a clear sign that Natasha is already waiting for you and you have to follow him to the elevator.

….

#wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #scarlett witch x reader #scarlet witch

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spacebarbarianweird · 4 months

Note

Happy holidays! It's your Secret Santa recipient! Can I get Astarion/Tav gentle vampire paladin who broke her vows, a good dose of angst and comfort please. Thank you! ^^

So, I finally got to your request! It's not a Secret Santa, coz we've discussed everything with you in DM. Buuut - I like what we've made up! And it's my first fic about someone else's Tav who is neither generic nor Tiriel.

When The Light is Gone

Synopsis: You used to be many things. You used to be a Paladin of Lathander. You used to be Astarion's only love. You used to be mortal. You used to be free. Now, you are just a vampire spawn in the hands of an evil and cruel vampire lady - and no one hears your prayers anymore.

TW: Tav is put through the same things Astarion was put by Cazador (including tortures and SA). They aren't written in details, but those things are mentioned.

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

You pray, but no one listens.

Your bones are broken, and your flesh is flayed. As far as you can see through the piercing pain, there is no skin left on your body. It's all ripped from you like rags.

The vampire regeneration brings it back in a second. No wounds, no bruises. The skin looks like day you died.

Frozen in time.

"I see you are back!" your master laughs, and her voice echoes through the dungeon.

No, please, not again.

The vampire lady approaches you with a terrible elegance. She moves through the place of torture as if it were a ballroom.

"My dear little spawn, why do you upset me so much? Am I not kind to you? Am I not forgiving?"

She chuckles studying your face. Your tears have long dried. The red eyes glow in anticipation.

"And you still dare to disobey me- you've run! Is this the gratitude for giving you immortality?"

You are silent. You are so exhausted you can't speak. The hunger is so overwhelming, you can't think about anything. You would eat a flea if it meant getting at least a drop of blood.

"Answer me, girl."

Your mouth moves against your will. A spawn is a mere puppet in the arms of its master.

"I am sorry, Meerah."

The vampire licks her lips. She is beautiful, your master. Black hair, pale skin. Once she was a human. But it was centuries ago. Was she tortured like that by her master? Or was she a vampire bride, a privileged slave? It doesn’t matter what she was. It matters what she is now.

Cruel.

Sadistic.

Perversive.

"What to do with you, my dear sweet paladin?" she touches your breasts and then goes lower with her cold fingers. "Regeneration is so sweet - I like seeing skin growing back and bones mending."

Meerah takes out a dagger, brushing its tip on your stomach.

"Pity, you didn't experience the pleasure of getting out of that grave. A vampire must find its own way to the surface once it wakes in a coffin. And that stupid vampire... What was his name? Astarion?"

You sniff. You have nightmares. Сonstantly. But sometimes you see worse things - you dream that Astarion saves you. That it's him making love to you, not Lum or someone else Meerah decided to reward. You hear his voice, sense his touch. Only to wake up in chains.

Or in someone else's bed.

"He dug you from your grave. With his hands. So desperate he was as if he hoped you would still be mortal when he found you. How you clung to him with your eyes glowing red! But he left. He ran!"

No, it wasn’t like that!

Your body didn't listen to you anymore. You stood up and approached your new master, your slave owner. Astarion was standing there near your grave surrounded by Meerah’s spawns.

She gave him a choice - he goes and never returns. Or you would be left to meet the sun.

Meerah can always make news spawns, but Astarion wouldn't find another Tav.

I will find the way! I will kill her the same way we killed Cazador!

And he disappeared. The spawns chased him like hounds chasIng prey.

He will save you. He will find you.

"Dear, dear. How long have you been here? Let me think. Twenty years! And he has never shown up!"

The dagger plunges into your stomach and even though your senses are dulled you cry in pain.

"You know the harsh truth. Vampires never get along. We love mortals to warm our beds because our bodies are so cold. We love drinking the blood of people we like. But two vampires... You can't give anything to each other. I know you still cry for him. Lum told me - you wake up in tears calling out for Astarion because you thought he'd finally come for you. But he left. He will never return"

She stabs you with the dagger.

And again.

It's a perfect torture because you can't die. You are already dead, she killed you twenty years ago condemning you to the existence of her personal toy.

"O Lord of Light, illuminating the path" you whisper, coughing blood. " Saving us from the darkness beckoning wrath"

But the Morninglord doesn't hear you.

He is the enemy of the undead.

And you are among them.

Meerah finally gets tired of torturing you. She unchains you and you fall to the dirty floor. The wounds immediately heal.

I want blood. I need to eat.

Meerah doesn't feed you often. She gives you enough to keep you sane and "good-looking". But it never satiates you.

"Stand up"

Your body obeys.

Lum stands from the shadows and you shiver - it was him who caught you and brought you back. He, the lover of the powerful vampire, wasn't afraid of the mere spawn.

"She is yours for the night. Do whatever you want."

Lum licks his lips studying your body. No, not him. Not again. His touches burn like acid and he is even more violent than Meerah. It's his release after submitting to his lady.

"I know you have a thing for women of gods. Spawn! Follow him to the bedroom and please him. Beg him for more, until he gets tired of you"

***

Dissociation is a gift.

It's not you.

It’s someone else performing in bed for this vile man. Someone else is getting fucked, someone else is used for pleasure. Your mind wanders away as your mouth moans and begs.

You try to think about Astarion. To remember him. How good it was with him. How gentle he always was.

But it's been twenty years and you realize you've forgotten his face.

***

You lie on the floor. Lum ordered you not to move. He doesn't possess the master's voice, he is a mere human, who was promised to be given eternal life. But the master's voice ordered you to obey him so you do.

Your body is numb because of the cold and humiliation. Maybe, you should find a way to step into the sun. To let the god of dawn take you. You tried once but were caught and were impaled for a year.

Astarion made it somehow for two centuries. Through tortures, through pain, through rapes, through hunger. You can do it, too.

But you aren't so sure anymore.

Intrusive thoughts invade your mind. "He left you, knowing perfectly well what would happen to you. He left you to be ripped, torn, used, ruined, destroyed. He isn't coming back. He's forgotten."

No, no! This isn't true!

"Your god has forsaken you. Remember how many things you did for Lathander? Deeds, prayers... Nothing matters. He forsook you the moment you were turned into a vampire."

You cry in silence. You've learned this skill too - to weep and grieve without a sound.

WAKE UP

The master's voice forces you to jump on your feet.

TO THE DUNGEON

You go. Your feet are bare and the only piece of clothes you wear is a pair of trousers and an old shirt. Too big for you but at least you aren't naked.

QUICK YOU STUPID BITCH!

You rush. Something is wrong. Someone has come to challenge your master and now all the spawns will have to fight for her.

When you arrive at the dungeon there is a fight. You see at least three spawns are dead and their bodies slowly turn to ashes.

Meerah is scared.

And so are you.

There are three intruders. And two of them are dhampirs.

Two young men, identical and tall, kill vampire spawns as if they are just rabid dogs. The worst vampire nightmare - someone who is immune to vampirism and feels the presence of vampires.

There is a third person among them, another hooded figure.

"I told you not to come!" Meerah yells. "I told you I would force her to see the sun!"

The hooded figure steps forward.

Astarion.

These twenty years didn't change him. He looks the same.

He recognizes you and there is grief in his perfect face.

KILL HIM

You try to disobey but you are less than a puppet.

You rush to him with your fangs and claws but in a moment you are paralyzed.

One of the dhampirs used "Hold Undead".

You are motionless. Weak. But you can't break the chains - and this is a blessing.

"You think you can kill me?! You, a masterless spawn and two half-deads?!"

Meerah is scared. For the first time in her undead life.

When the vampire dies, you feel the pain, and the invisible strings burn and fall into the darkness.

***

You wake up in a dark room. It was all a dream. You dream of your master's death. Of Astarion. Of freedom.

Of course, it's not true. It couldn't happen.

The hunger tortures you, forcing your guts to wrench.

You catch the scent of a living person. Blood, fresh blood. Living blood.

So desirable. So unreachable.

You sit up, staring into the dark, and see Lum, your rapist.

He is tied up. His bones are broken and his mouth is gagged. He muffles something but you can't understand anything.

And you feel emptiness in the part of your mind that has always been occupied by your master.

You hear steps. A familiar scent.

"Woke up, darling?"

You stare at Astarion in disbelief. Twenty years. Twenty years! And yet...

He is here.

You rush to him crying and cursing and he hugs you with his strong arms.

"Shh, it's ok. It's over. You are free. No one will ever hurt you. I will never leave you. We will always be together."

"Why? Why twenty years? Where have you been?" you sniff.

"Was looking for a way to kill that bitch and not lose you in the process. But I was always looking, I have never stopped. I give you my word"

The hunger becomes unbearable and you look at Lum. He is scared to death. He has never thought it was possible to outlive his master.

"Has she ever let you drink human blood?"

Rats. Stray dogs. Birds. Your only food. But she usually starved you, sometimes not feeding for years, locking you inside a cell.

"Drink his blood. Don't stop yourself. Drink till the last drop"

"But I-"

"She is dead. Eat."

And you rush to the body as a feral animal. Sinking your fangs into the warm flesh.

Blood.

Real human flood.

You rip Lum's throat trying to cause as much pain as possible. And you drink and drink

Till nothing is left.

Your mind becomes clear. You've never felt so good since you were turned. You even have something in your chest as if your undead heart could beat.

Astarion picks you up and carries you away from the dead body.

***

The surface feels nice. It's early night and it smells like freedom.

Dhampir brothers approach you and you sense the fear. The dhampirs. The death of the vampires.

"Well, I suppose here we part ways, Uncle"

"Call me uncle once again and I will test my ability to fight a dhampir!"

The twins laugh. "Our mother considers you her brother. It makes

you our uncle. Who knows when you will need our help again."

"But beware" the other one adds. "You are responsible for Tav. If she can't control her hunger, she will become our prey. And so will you"

The twins bow simultaneously and disappear in the night. Astarion grabs your hand.

"Why do they call you uncle?"

"They are Dalyria's sons. Apparently, she still considers me her brother. I haven't decided if I like it or not. Come on, let's get out of here. There is a town nearby and the innkeepers accidentally invited me to the tavern some time ago."

You walk in silence. There is so much you want to tell him. There is so much you want to cry about. But you are quiet.

By the sunrise, you finally reach the inn. Astarion orders a bath and locks the wooden door.

"Do you want me to stay or to go?" he carefully asks.

You don't know what to do. You feel cold. You feel dirty. You feel dead even though you are satiated with blood.

Astarion sighs. "I will be in our room in case you need anything."

"No!" You finally manage to say. "Stay"

He nods. You try to undress but it feels like the fabric sticks to your skin. Astarion doesn't dare touch you.

Of course.

He remembers himself. How he snapped at you for touching him. How it took him years before he started feeling comfortable in his own skin.

But you are not like that. Similar experience. Different results.

"Touch me. Please. Makes me forget. I feel hollow. There was a place in my heart for Lathander but he forgot me. Then, it was my master's voice. Now there is nothing. Just nothing. Please, make me forget."

Astarion undresses you and gently places you in the hot water.

He washes you, rubbing your pale skin. He murmurs the words of love and care but you see pain in his eyes. He avoids touching your bite mark but you grab his hand and force him to touch it.

"What are we going to do now?" you ask.

"I don't know. I've spent some time in the Underdark with my... siblings. You are one of us now, you will be safe. Maybe we could search for a cure. Besides, you were a paladin. Maybe your god will pay for your service."

You let out a bitter laugh.

"He forgot me. He abandoned me. When he needed me I was always there. When I needed him, he was nowhere. And where was he when you were trying to rescue me?"

"So, no paladin anymore?"

"No, I will still be one. Think how many Keleths and Cazadors there are. How many... Tavs and Astarions are in their hands. I don't belong to the realm of light anymore. But it doesn't mean I can't live up to my... beliefs."

Astarion gently kisses your forehead and you feel like crying.

"You know, it took me so long before I finally found the strength in me to think about anything else but myself. And you are barely free and are already up to wearing your shining armor."

"It was twenty years, not two hundred."

"It doesn't matter. Enslavement, tortures. It's all the same. You suffered no less than me. But I am here," he kisses your cold lips. "I will be with you throughout your nightmares, fears, and disgust. The same way you were there for me. And then - we will kill other vampire lords!”

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96

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melrodrigo · 10 months

Text

Tardy, part 6

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’ve been brutally stabbed, who can you trust?

Warnings: Angst, Violence, Mentions of Violence, Slight Gore, Language, Some fluff

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: More….more angst. (But dw it’s getting better) This one’s for paige and cutie anon :)) I wanna know what y’all think, who’s ghostface??

Ethan looks beat up. He stands in front of you, eyes wide; mouth slightly open.

Where did he come from?

You don’t have the time to make the decision if he’s Ghostface or not, so you assume the worst. You half contemplate making a run for it, maybe you’ll get far enough away that you lose him.

It would never work, you’re aware of that. You’re extremely wounded, he’d catch up to you in a minute.

There’s no way he could’ve attacked you on the balcony, slipped out the robe, and gotten in front of the pub so quick…right?

His eyes fly down to your shoulder, and now his mouth drops open fully.

“YN! Are you alright? I tried to find you as fast as possible, but Ghostface attacked me-“ He stops, catching his breath. “And I- I got away but jesus lord this hurts.”

He points to his thigh, and that’s when you notice the gash; all red and oozing.

He has an attack mark, okay; you think.

But he could’ve easily done it to fake you out. The other part of you thinks.

It wasn’t an outlandish theory, plenty of Ghostface’s before have.

You eye him up and down.

“How did you find me? What the fuck are you doing here?” You question, accusatory tone in your voice.

He looks taken aback, obviously not expecting you to accuse him of being Ghostface.

But then his gaze turns cold, and you realize you’ve never seen the boy angry before.

“Are you kidding me? I came here to look for you, like I said. Your location was on, we have each other on find my friends; don’t you remember? Are you seriously considering me as Ghostface right now?”

You bite back an insult, really study his face. He doesn’t look like he’s lying, but that doesn’t really reassure you.

It’s a race between your head and your heart, and you curse; shaking your head.

The blood you’re losing is starting to take a toll on your critical thinking skills, and you can feel the haze start to take over.

You figure it wouldn’t hurt to have a suspect with you right now, if he tried anything you wouldn’t hesitate to slit his throat.

“Can we talk about this later?” You grit, “I’m kind of dying over here.”

His eyes soften a bit, and you can see the split decision he makes.

“Come on, let’s go back to the apartment.” He urges, signaling you to his car.

You stare at him sharply.

“The apartment? What the fuck are we going to do there? Let’s go to the hospital.” You say.

He shakes his head once, then twice.

“No. Tara would kill me if I don’t get you back in like 10 minutes. Anika’s a nursing major, she’ll fix you up.” He says, helping you up into his car; staining the seat with the amount of blood pooling from you.

You open your mouth to argue, but find you can’t speak. The haze has gotten really bad, and your vision’s starting to blur.

“YN? Stop, stay awake first. Just a few minutes. Keep your eyes open.” You hear faintly, along with the sound of the car speeding through the street.

My eyes….huh, they won’t open. You try to tell Ethan you can’t hold on any longer, but everything turns black as you do.

You don’t wake till hours later, propped up on the couch in the apartment; blinking at the bright lights in front of you.

“Oh christ.” You mumble as you try and sit up, but feel your stomach constrict painfully.

“Don’t move.” You hear from beside you, and your eyes shoot to the person sitting next to you; hand on your arm.

It’s Tara, and it only takes you a second to notice the fire in her eyes from before is gone. Nobody else is there in the room, just her and you.

You feel yourself relax a little, tilting your head back up to the ceiling.

It’s silent for a good minute until Tara shifts in her seat, and you can almost feel the hesitance radiating off her.

“What were you thinking? Going off alone, you could’ve been seriously hurt. Hell, you are seriously hurt!” She hisses, and you roll over; scrunch your eyebrows together at her.

It’s infuriating, that she thinks she has the right to be mad at you. After what happened last night? The audacity.

It’s petty, but you don’t care. You want to piss her off.

“Why do you care? I thought you weren’t my girlfriend anymore.” You say, hotly.

Tara’s taken by surprise at your statement, mouth opening and closing; gaping like a fish.

She finally opens it to speak after a few seconds. There’s still irritation in her voice, but it’s lessened almost insurmountably.

“Well, I still care about my friends-“ She starts but you silence her with a finger pressed to her lips.

It’s hard to stop you from speaking now, you’ve spent the last few days stirring and collecting your thoughts.

“Do you really think you can call me your friend after that? Do you treat your friends like you treated me?” You question, and swipe your finger against her lips.

She shivers a little underneath your touch, and sinks timidly onto the floor.

“YN, look I’m sorry. I believe you now.” She mumbles, fidgeting with her fingers.

“Too little too late Tara.” And you sink back into the couch; looking away from the brunette.

You’re butthurt, you’re aware of it; but you still want to make Tara pay a little.

“What can I do, to make it up to you?“ She asks, gingerly placing her hand on yours again.

You retract quickly. You don’t miss the flash of hurt that passes through her features.

You feel your defenses breaking a bit.

“Just give it time, Tara. I want to be left alone.” You sigh, shooting her a final look that screams ‘please just leave’.

She seems to understand, because she gets up immediately and walks away.

You try and quell the pit of regret in your stomach the minute she leaves. After everything, you still miss her. You curse yourself silently.

There’s hushed voices from around the corner that Tara’s just turned. You strain your ears, and you recognize both people speaking immediately.

“Tara where are her parents? Why aren’t we calling them?” Ethan questions; and you can picture his tight brows and unsure stance.

“Her mom’s all the way back in California, and she’s never told me about her dad.” Tara says, “We shouldn’t worry her, YN wouldn’t want that.”

You clench your eyes shut, rub your head in hopes of relieving some tension. Your parents were always a touchy subject, and never failed to give you a headache.

You tune their conversation out after that, try to fall asleep and lessen the aching pain in your lower stomach.

You get a good 3 hours in before you’re waking up again, hand clutching the skin beside your wound.

It’s searing, and you need to relieve it now. You’re so caught up in the pain you don’t see the shifting figure across the room.

There’s a shuffling sound somewhere around the room, and you tilt your head to the side; trying to see the person.

It’s Tara, and she’s getting up quickly; moving almost like she’s been caught. She avoids your gaze as she leaves.

You sigh. Bite back your pride as you ask her.

“Wait- Tara could you grab me the ice pack from the fridge?”

She turns around immediately, face lighting up. You pretend not to see.

She walks to the fridge, grabs the ice pack from the freezer and holds it between her hands. It looks huge in comparison to her fingers.

She’s fidgeting with it, the coldness painting the tips of her fingers a slight purple.

It’s kind of cute.

She walks over, footsteps light; and lingers in front of you.

She’s so hesitant with you now you sort of feel bad. Maybe you shouldn’t have been too harsh.

“Come here, what are you waiting for?” You inquire, patting the spot beside you.

She sits and reaches down to your shirt; but she catches herself before she can pull it up; looking at you with searching eyes.

You nod.

She seems to take that as a good enough answer because she pulls it up just enough to show your wound, and she’s wincing at the sight of it.

“Jesus, does it hurt?” She asks, devastated look in her eyes. You look away before you say anything stupid.

“First of all, my name is YN. Second, a little bit.” You say, voice tight.

Shit, that’s a stupid joke.

She ignores your statement and focuses on the wound.

“Oh god, how do I do this? I should’ve asked Anika to come look after you.” She rambles, head swishing back like she’s about to bolt out the room.

You bring up an arm to stop her, ignoring the sharp pain and making her look at you.

“I want you to do it. Here, I’ll help.” You say, hesitating when you remember you don’t know where to put it either.

Obviously she shouldn’t press it right on the wound, you know that. You settle for the area around the wound; the part that’s already turning green and purple.

You’re still touching her hand when you guide her. She’s breathing a little heavy; cheeks tinted the faintest red.

Her touch is so gentle, it makes you swallow nervously. Everything suddenly feels very intimate.

No, how were you breaking already? You literally just told her you needed time.

The look in her eyes as she presses the ice to you makes you think she’s feeling the same way. Avoiding your eyes, gingerly placing her fingers on your skin.

You close your eyes, but Tara must think you’ve gone to sleep, because a few moments later you hear her mutter under her breath.

“I’m so sorry.”

You know what people don’t tell you about being brutally stabbed? It’s boring as hell.

It’s been a couple of days, and you can still barely move anywhere; in fact, you think it might be getting worse.

Anika’s come in to check on you every few hours, taking care of the wound and giving you antibiotics. You’re not really sure if she’s qualified to do that, but you shrug it off.

You start conversations and send sweet smiles to her as often as you can, trying to show her you’re grateful for everything she’s doing.

“Oh hush, of course I’ll help a friend in need.” She said once during a new wrap up of your wound, where you’d tried to express how thankful you were.

The rest of the group seems to be feeling guilty for it too, and they’re trying to help; you can see it.

Mindy visits sometimes and tells jokes, sometimes discusses her theories about who ghostface is with you. She’s surprisingly very funny, and you wonder why you haven’t talked more before.

Chad doesn’t really say much, but he buys you snacks and once a bouquet of flowers; handing them over with a shy smile.

Ethan’s ethan. He visits every day, cracks lame jokes. Shows you the latest updates on the game he’s been obsessed with.

And Tara, sweet Tara. She sticks by your side all day and night, but always leaves enough space for you to feel comfortable. Her usual spot is on the armchair across from you, and you’ve caught her staring at you more times than she cares to admit.

Everything’s changed, including your feelings toward her. Your heart swells whenever she asks if you need anything, or checks up on your temperature hourly. You have to fight the urge to pull her down and kiss her as she’s taking a wet towel and wiping your forehead.

But you don’t utter a word, because the damage has been done, and you don’t want to confuse her more than you already have.

The only member of the group to not check up on you yet is Sam, which is understandable. It’s not like you and Sam have a sweet sister-like bond.

But today, when the front door opens and you call out for Tara; Sam enters the room instead.

She doesn’t say anything as she grabs a chair and comes to sit beside you; or more so in front of you.

You try to sit up, but it’s still excruciatingly painful to; so you settle for rolling on your side and making eye contact with the older woman.

“Um, sorry for not coming to check up on you earlier. I wasn’t sure what to say, and I think the rest of the group has it covered.” She says.

You stay quiet as she finds more things to say.

“Are you and Tara alright? I know things were a little tense after the whole DNA debacle.”

You can’t help but snicker.

“Tense is one way to put it.”

“I’m also sorry for not believing you earlier,” She grits, like saying sorry to you is the hardest thing in the world. “I shouldn’t have judged you so hard, because well; you’re obviously not Ghostface.”

She gestures to the 5-inch stab wound.

You grimace, pursing your lips.

“I’m sorry too,” You start, “For bringing Tara up on the roof that day, it was a dangerous thing to do; and Tara could’ve been seriously hurt. God I don’t know what I’d do if Tara had been stabbed that day.” You add the last bit as an afterthought, not really meaning to say it to Sam.

She looks thoughtful as she speaks again, slowly.

“I know we’ve had our fair share of differences, but I can tell Tara loves you. I mean, she practically begged me not to tell the others about the dna.”

You raise your eyebrows, obviously not expecting Sam to admit something like that.

“I’m not exactly sure what she sees in you, but if you make her happy; then I guess I can tolerate you.” She finishes, and for the first time since meeting her; she looks kind.

You know how hard it is for Sam to open up to someone, you’ve heard all about it from Tara. The fact that she’s bringing her defenses down and admitting she’s wrong makes you beam.

“Plus, you aren’t that bad of a fighter; are you? Ethan’s been bragging that his best friend sucker punched Ghostface after getting stabbed.” And you see the ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

It’s gone as fast as it appears, because now Sam’s leaning in, whispering to you even though you’re the only two people in the room.

“Someone’s setting us up.” She says, “It has to be someone from within our friend group.”

She looks small, hunched over with worry swimming in her eyes. You briefly consider taking her hand in comfort; but think better of it.

“Sam,” You say, voice stern. “Whoever this Ghostface is, we’ll find them. And then we’ll kill them together, for Tara.”

Determination runs through your voice, and it must break Sam out of whatever overthinking she’s doing.

She nods, and you guys share a moment of understanding.

“Together. Let’s kill this son of a bitch.”

#tardy #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #scream vi #wednesday addams x reader #tara carpenter x you

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abiiors · 4 months

Note

Do you have any plans to write smut ? 👀👀. I'm starving and begging for a crumb

.ೃ࿐ the jeweller's hands

(wrote this on my phone and it’s not proofed, sorry!!!)

cw: cheating, mean matty

“keep it down or i’ll fucking stop,” matty growls in your ear the moment your back hits the wall.

fifteen minutes. that’s how long you lasted before seeking him out in the crowd—a risky fucking business considering you’re attending this stupid little charity gala with your husband in the first place.

regardless, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

not that you’re even thinking about him right now… the man you came here with is the absolute last thing on your mind. your thoughts wander—first to matty in a suit, to his sleeves straining over his biceps and the way he wears no tie to this formal event. his shirt collar is open too, tattoos peeking out surrounded by a fine dusting of hair that’s gone slightly grey now, just like the grey in his curls.

he’s a vision. and now he’s here. inches away. trapping you between him and the wall and grinding his pelvis against yours in a way that makes it very clear what he’s here for.

matty hand tightens on your hips.

“here?”

“oh, don’t act coy with me now.”

his voice drops down to a harsh whisper, voice full of venom and lust but he only steps closer and the heat in your belly burns hotter.

so what if this is wrong…

“didn’t think about that when you were making fuck me eyes at me out there, did you?”

no. you didn’t.

but he can chase you a bit more.

“someone’s going to hear us,” you all but purr in his ear, niping at his earlobe. matty’s hold on you tightens and suddenly there’s not enough air in this fancy, marbled bathroom.

“then you’re just going to have to shut up and take it like a good little slut, yeah?”

there’s no way you would ever let anyone else speak this way to you. but matty is older, matty knows what he’s doing. matty, with his calloused hands and a fallen angel face knows how to make your blood sing.

he is the only one that gets a pass.

“strip,” he orders and takes a small step back.

you can’t help the small choked sound of protest that leaves you but then there he is again, spinning you around and undoing the zip of your dress before you can make another sound.

“can you step out of your dress on your own?” his mouth lowers to your ears, warm breath cascading down your cheeks, lips brushing against your skin ever so slightly. “it won’t be pretty if i have to do it, love. it might end up on the floor in tatters.”

you swallow harshly and nod just once.

he’s on you the moment the dress pools around your feet and you stand there, back pressed to the wall in just a thong. you don’t miss the way his eyes hungrily take you in—the curve of your hips and up to your stomach. then to your tits.

of course, his eyes linger there—on your peaked nippes and then up to your neck. you resist the urge to squirm under his gaze.

“are you just gonna stand there and watch me?”

matty clicks his tongue.

“you’ve gotten bold, haven’t you?”

“only because you’ve gone soft,” you taunt. it has the effect you want it to have.

matty crashes his lips against yours before you’re even properly done speaking. it’s a furious kiss—teeth clashing together on impact, your lipstick smeared all over your mouth. this isn’t a soft kiss. it’s not a lovers’ kiss.

this is a kiss that stings.

“that what you think?” he speaks when he takes a moment to breathe and your heart leaps in your throat. oh he sounds angry. the kind of anger that he’s about to take out on you…

“we’ll have to change that won’t we…”

“we—fuck!”

you feel a sharp sting as matty pinches your nipple between his fingers, taking advantage of the piercing, digging the cold metal further into your skin until your legs start shaking. wildfire runs through your blood, burning away any sane thought in its way, leaving you with just desire and lust and complete abandon.

“what was that? couldn’t hear you that well…”

this time you don’t try.

“please–shit! please, matty!” you whine, trying to clench your thighs together, but he pushes his knee between them, his body holding yours against the wall.

the bathroom somehow seems smaller now, hotter than it was before. the only thing between you and someone else walking in is a flimsy locked door.

anyone could knock. anyone could—

“you’re thinking,” he tuts. he’s right though. you are thinking…

good thing he’s right there to fuck you dumb.

“good little sluts don’t overthink,” his fingers hook harshly into the waistband of your thong and you already know what’s coming next.

a ripping sound echoes in the room and your thong falls to the floor, ripped to shreds.

“gonna send you back to your husband with my cum dripping down your thighs, darling, that what you want? hmm?” his words swirl around your brain at a dizzying pace making you nod involuntarily.

that is what you want… to feel him so deep inside you that you won’t forget it for days. to have your lungs full of his cologne. to have your fingers shoved so deep in your mouth that you’d gag around them.

your heart pounds in your entire body as you help matty undo his belt with shaky fingers. he’s already so hard under your touch, groaning as you palm him first through his trousers and then through his boxers.

fuck. for a moment you wonder what he would taste like. if he would let you if you just dropped to your knees right here. but the desperation to feel him inside, hitting the spot over and over again, has you drooling.

“spread your legs,” he whispers roughly and his fingers find your clit.

lazily, he swipes through your folds and collects some of the wetness making you hiss in pleasure. your eyes roll to the back of your head—this is what it should feel like always, no thoughts, just him and his hands and—

without warning you feel the tip of his cock entering you and you bite onto his shouder, desperate to keep the screams in.

“matty—”

but his mouth is on yours once again, swallowing every moan and scream and hiss of pleasure as he pounds into you mercilessly.

his hips slam into yours at a bruising pace; urgent and desperate, like he can’t get enough. it’s feverish even, almost as if you might slip away if he lets go even just a little. matty lets out a string of curses between each kiss.

somewhere in the back of your mind, you know your lips will be swollen and red by the time you’re done. you know you’ll have to find some way to look put together before going out again. but right now you don’t care… not when your entire body is full of ecstacy. not when matty makes you feel so so good.

sooner or later it will end, your mind reminds you. it will end and you’ll have to gather yourself and go out and play good little wife to a man you barely care about.

it will end and you will go your separate ways only to find each other again in some shady corner or some brightly lit bathroom at some pretentious event…

matty’s breath hitches when you clench around him.

the feeling in your spine is overwhelming—the tingles, the little electric jolts, the bursts of pleasure that build and build until the knot inside your stomach tightens impossibly fast.

“matty—gonna cum–please…”

“feel so good, darling,” he replies. a rare praise coming from him but it intensifies the dizziness, the bloodrush. “let me feel you,” he coaxes. this time, his voice comes out much softer, almost…tender.

“cum for me,” he speaks and pulls your thighs higher over his hip. suddenly he’s reaching so much deeper, hitting the spot harder and the trembling in your body increases tenfold.

your legs spasm, barely holding you upright and a wave of pleasure crashes over you.

the next time you open your eyes, matty’s face is contorted with pleasure, eyes half-lidded, jaw slack, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows harshly and you feel the warmth of his cum dripping out of your cunt and down your thigh. exactly what he’d promised.

if you look down, you’ll find his hands imprinted on your hips—red marks in the shape of his fingers that will no doubt bruise in the next couple of days. something of his for you to hold on to, long after he leaves. a welcome sting.

he does look down when he opens his eyes—looks down at the way your bodies are joined together, how your legs part around him, how your body fits into the crevices of his so perfectly. he almost smiles then but shakes his head slightly.

you expect him to say something, anything that would fill in the silence.

you were good, darling.

you were amazing.

come home with me.

he says none of those things. silently, matty zips us his trousers and fixes his belt. then he brings his thumb to your chin, softly wiping away the lipstick stains, up to your thumb so he can do the same there.

his eyes remain trained to your lips but you suspect it’s more cowardice this time than lust.

“get dressed,” matty speaks and his voice comes out brittle, devoid of feelings. “don’t want your husband to come looking for you.”

and then he steps away, as if none of this ever really happened.

#SORRY THIS SORTA TURNED INTO ANGST AT THE END DON’T HATE ME #✉️#♤: matty blurbs #matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty healy smut #matty healy fic #the 1975 #the 1975 smut #smut #minors do not interact

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arlana-likes-to-write · 9 months

Note

Natasha Romanoff x Fem reader

I don’t really care if it’s a one shot type thing or a story with a couple parts, I will leave that completely up to you but it’s so hard for me to find stories with the reader and Nat dancing together and I love your work so I was wondering if you could please write a story where the reader is a prima ballerina. She lives in the city and during some kind of attack something happens and Natasha ends up saving her. The dancer falls in love with Nat as soon as she sees her and after the attack Natasha wants to see her again so they start dancing together and then fall in love and start dating.

Dance with me

Hope you enjoyed this! I really had fun writhing it and would 100% be done to continue writing in this AU.

Summary: You had the weirdest luck, from being in the city where the Avengers are facing a newest threat, to being saved by the Black Widow, and seeing that same Black Widow entry your dance store. See, the weirdest luck.

Warning; Angst with a happy ending, Fluff, love confession, attempted assault in the beginning, mention of past trauma, Natasha needs the biggest hug, guilt, a form of self harm, mention of the Red Room.

Word Count: 4.4k

“You got to be kidding me,” you mumbled as ran you down the sidewalk as a car exploded next to you. Running down an alley, trying to escape the violence. Your heart was beating against your rib cage as you tried to catch your breath. Sweat pouring down your back. You were in Chicago for three days for a dance convention, and one of your students was performing. It happened to line up with the Avengers creating havoc on the city. You knew it wasn’t their fault but damn you had the worst luck. You flinched as another explosion rocked the streets and a scream echoed in the distance. A man appeared in the face of the alley, wearing all black and holding an assault rifle.

“Well hello beautiful,” he was British, and the smile he wore made your stomach drop. You hated it. “What are you doing here, little bird?” You didn’t answer as you walked backward, your eyes never leaving the man. “Cat got your tongue.” Your back hit the brick wall, you were trapped. “It’s hell out there and I need some stress relief.” When he got closer to you, his gloved hand gripped your chin. “I bet you can help. Won’t you baby?” Your lips began to shake as your eyes closed. Your body froze, unable to scream or fight back or run. Soon the grip on your chin was removed and you heard a pained grunt. You snapped your eyes open and saw a woman, wearing all black and bright red hair. She kicked your attacker once, twice in the stomach before handcuffing him to the dumpster.

“Are you alright?” She asked, looking at you. Your eyes flickered to her and your assailant, who now had blood dripping from the side of his head.

“Yeah,” you whispered, voice and handshaking. “Yeah,” it was steadier as you stared at the Avenger. The Black Widow. Shit, she was prettier in person. “He didn’t get a chance to do anything.” Her green eyes sent daggers to the unconscious man but an explosion rocked the city. You stumbled slightly and she placed her hands on your waist to catch you. You felt your stomach drop as her cold skin could be felt through your thin tank top. But Natasha wasn’t affected by the interaction.

“Look I have to go,” she removed her hold on you. “Can you make it back home safe?” You nodded. You weren’t completely helpless. “Good. Be safe.”

“You too,” you called after her as ran to join the fight. “And thank you.” You noticed the stutter in her steep and she disappeared. You let out a breathless sigh, slumping back against the wall. You had the weirdest luck.

There was a buzzing that formed underneath Natasha’s skin. The buzzing wouldn’t go away no matter how much she worked her body - spending hours in the gun range, sparring with Steve, and punching the sandbag until her knuckles bleed. The buzzing remained. She concluded a new outlet was needed to release this energy. So she walked the surprisingly empty streets of New York City with her hoodie up to cover her face. The last thing she wanted was to be recognized as an Avenger when the media was portraying them as villains. She opened the dance shop, and a soft bell alerted her presence to the owners. “I’ll be right with you,” a voice called out. In Natasha’s muffled mind, the voice sounded familiar. But she didn’t dwell too much on it. The hood covering her face fell as she walked over to the wall of pointe shoes. This was the last store she wanted to be in but she needed to make the buzzing stop. The Red Room used ballet as a punishment rather than a training tool. For hours, she and other girls were forced to endure training, learning different variations, and techniques. Sometimes she could still feel the whip on the back of her calves when her form wasn’t correct. She needed that reminder of the Red Room instructors yelling at her. The way her muscles cramped and twitched because they weren’t allowed breaks. She deserved the pain. She wasn’t good enough, she was failing.

“Hi, how can I-” the voice trailed off. Natasha knew why the voice sounded familiar. It was you, the girl she saved in Chicago from that pig of a man. She made sure to throw him a little harder against the metal van that arrested him. “Sorry, can I help you find anything? Or are you just looking?” She blinked once, twice at you. That was different. She was used to the fan-girls crushing over her or the hateful glares she received on the streets but you acted like she was a normal customer.

“Pointe shoes,” Natasha said simply. “I need a new pair.” You smiled.

“I’m guessing you’ve been fitted for shoes before,” the redhead wasn’t sure how to tell you that she was forced to endure a fitting.

“It’s been a while,” your smile didn’t change.

“That’s fine! Just tell me what size you think you are and I’ll grab some options. There is a studio through that door and we’ll try them on in there,” Natasha did just that. She told you her shoe size and walked into the dance studio. It was as if the air was sucked out of her lungs as she stood in the familiar space. The studio was small but it had a wall of mirrors and a ballet bar. Posters were hung on the walls. Natasha couldn’t help but feel that fear as she sat down and waited for you. That fear made her stomach twist and her heart beat against her ribs. A part of her enjoyed it, the anticipation of when she was going to be hit. She knew it was sick and twisted but she deserved it.

You were freaking out. The Black Widow. The Natasha Romanoff was in your little hole-in-the-wall dance store buying pointe shoes. What the fuck was going on? But you had a job to do so you let out a shaky breath and grabbed a few options for her to try on. When you entered the small dance studio, she was sitting on the floor with her leggings rolled up to her knees. “So I brought a few pairs and we’ll find your perfect pair of shoes,” she didn’t return your smile. She looked lost in thought.

“Right,” she took the first box that you handed her. “Thank you,” a small smile formed on her lips. It was tight, strained as it took everything in her to smile. You wondered what was bothering her. She began the process of putting on the shoes, slipping her sneakers and socks off, and tying the ribbon. She did it like a pro. Natasha stood up as you remained sitting. “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” she broke the silence.

“You didn’t think I’d get home safe,” you teased. “I’m not that helpless.” Natasha frowned.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know, Natasha, I’m just joking,” you didn’t mean to offend her. “Can you go up on pointe for me?” She did. Her legs shook a little but it was to be expected since she wasn’t training every day. You didn’t like the way they looked. “How do they feel?” You asked

“A little loose,” she came back down. “Sorry,” you were startled by her apology.

“It’s alright,” you said. “My job is to find the right shoe for you, no matter how long it takes.”

You found a pair that Natasha was happy with. Well…you hopped she was happy with the pair. It was hard to read her expression when she didn’t show any real emotion. While you rang her out, she was looking at the pictures you had displayed behind the counter. It was the students that you gave private lessons to when you weren’t running the store or at your rehearsal. “I wasn’t aware this store was a dance company.” She said, taking the bag from you.

“We aren’t,” you said. “I give private lessons.”

“Do you dance professionally?” You nodded.

“I dance for the New York City Ballet,” it was the first time you saw a flicker of emotion across her face. She was impressed. “In my downtime, I help run the store and teach. It’s not easy to live in the city on a dancer’s salary,” Natasha chuckled.

“Do you rent out the space for private use?” You normally didn’t but you were curious.

“Does the Avenger Tower not have a dance studio?” You questioned.

“It does,” the redhead slowly. “But I don’t dance in front of them.” You understood that. Dancing could be a vulnerable act, pouring so much of yourself into it. You had an idea. Opening the top drawer, you pulled out an extra key to the back door. It leads right into the dance studio. You put your hand on the counter, covering it.

“I have a proposition,” you said. She raised a curious eyebrow. “I’m going to give you an extra key to the dance studio and you can come to use it whenever you like,” you removed your hand showing her the key. “And if you ever need a dance partner you’ll give me a call.” Natasha frowned.

“You don’t have to do that. I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“I know I don’t but I want to,” you slide the key over to her. “I’ll clear it with the owners so don’t worry about it. Besides, you saved my life it’s the least I can do.” Natasha hesitated but took the key.

“Thank you,” she smiled. It was the first real one she gave you.

“No need to thank me. I hope to see you around,” she nodded and pulled her hoodie up before leaving the store. You couldn’t help but watch the way left. It was strange, stupid really to worry about someone you barely knew. Especially an Avenger but you worried about Natasha. She just seemed sad and upset. You desperately wanted to help.

You weren’t always around when Natasha used the key to the dance studio and she was grateful for that. You had a presence about you that scared Natasha. It made the buzzing underneath her skin increase and no amount of hours dancing would stop it. But there were days Natasha wished you were there. On the days you happened to be in the studio when she came around, you offered her a kind smile and that was it. You didn’t hound her with questions or force her to talk, you just let her be. It was oddly nice.

A trend was forming, you weren’t a detective or a police officer, even though you had a guilty pleasure for true crime TV shows but you noticed it right away. When Natasha would slip into the dance studio, you saw the horrific words spewed by the media, politicians, and the general public about the Avengers. They were called monsters, villains, and killers. Unfortunately, Natasha received more hate compared to her male teammates.

At the end of you the day, you were a dancer and a choreographer. You saw the story and emotion behind each dance the Black Widow did. You felt the anger, the pain, and the guilt she carried. It was so unfair and you wanted to take it all away.

According to a news article you read, you saw the Avengers were returning from DC. The meeting went well better than most but you saw that once again Natasha was left to defend her character and her allegiance to this country. It made your blood boil.

So you were ready when the Black Widow opened the back door. A scowl was on her face but it lessened slightly when she saw you. You tried not to read too much into that. “Hi,” you said. “Do you want to dance with me?” She barely had time to close the door before she asked your question. “We don’t have to,” you gave her an out. “We’ve seen each other dance individually so I thought it would be fun to dance together,” she continued to stare at you. “Sorry, it’s stupid-”

“Yes,” Natasha cringed at her placement. “Sorry no it’s not stupid, yes we can dance,” she chuckled, scratching the back of her head awkwardly. “You took me by surprise. I just got back from a trip.”

“I know,” it was your turn to cringe. “That sounded like I was stalking you,” she smiled and sat down to warm up. “What I meant was I saw on the news,” she frowned at your statement. “Do you know the pas de deux from Alice in Wonderland between Alice and the Knave of Hearts.?” She smiled, nodding her head.

“Yeah, I do. Let me warm up and we can do it. A pas de deux translated into a step of two. It was a dance in which two dancers formed ballet together. Some of the most popular duets were Swan Lake, Giselle, and Sleeping Beauty. It required a great deal of trust between the two dancers. When you jumped, you needed Natasha to catch you. If you needed to spin she would be there to guide you. But it was the same with her as she moved and danced across the room she trusted that you would follow her. You preferred dancing with a partner rather than a solo. You were able to tell a different story and play off with one another.

You had to admit it was had to dance with Natasha. Her hands holding onto your waist. You could feel her breath on your skin. All of your senses were consumed by the Black Widow and it was overwhelming.

When the dance was done, you were slightly out of breath as you stared at the redhead. You were sloppy and made a few mistakes but it was worth it to see Natasha’s smile. It was wild, unreserved, and free. Also so beautiful.

So you made it your mission to be there after every time Natasha. No matter her mood, you would ask her to dance. Sometimes you picked popular variations and other times you two would make up your own, sticking to ballet and contemporary style. When Natasha asked you to dance for the first time, you had to stop yourself from spitting your water out. But the shy smile and the light blush on her face made you say yes without hesitation. You learned no matter what she asked you to do you’d do it. Anything to see her smile.

“I won’t be around much this week,” you told her as you rested your back on the mirror and nursed a bottle of water. “I have tech rehearsal,” you answered her unasked question. She didn’t need to ask. With all the hours spent with the Black Widow, it was easier to read her. You noticed her walls were coming down.

“What ballet are you performing?” She asked, taking her ballet shoes off.

“Swan Lake,” you bite your lip. “I have an extra ticket for the opening night if you want to come.”

“Me?” Natasha questioned. “I’m sure you have other people you want to invite.” You shook your head. You already got the tickets for the husband and wife that owned this store and allowed you to stay in the above apartment.

“My family didn’t like the idea of me being a dancer,” you told her. “They wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer,” you remembered the day your father kicked you out. “So I have an extra ticket and I’d like you to come. Opening night is this Friday.” It wasn’t much of a notice but you were working up the courage to ask her.

“I’d love to go,” she said. “What part are you playing?”

“Just a background character,” you shrugged. “Nothing major.”

“Nonsense, any part is important. I know you’ll do amazing,” your body felt warm from her compliment. So when Natasha was done and headed back to the tower, her ticket was held tightly in her hand.

Natasha was running late. She had a meeting with Fury on how to save her public image that went longer than she expected. However, she didn’t care about the public image at the moment all she cared about was you. A stranger that opened up a space for her to exist, without question and no strings attached. A safe place where she could let down her walls and learn to fall in with dancing. To fall in love with you.

She parked her bike on the side of the road and jumped off, arriving at the theater with enough time to grab a pamphlet and find her seat. She had a quick thought to send you a quick text, telling you that she was here, and turned off her phone. As the lights dimmed, she flipped through the pamphlet to find your name. Her jaw dropped. You weren’t some background character, you were Odette and Odile. The main character. The White and Black Swan. Natasha chuckled. She wasn’t surprised you were given the lead, you were a talented and strong dancer. Also beautiful. Sometimes Natasha lost herself as she watched you dance. You were graceful, and elegant, and danced with such a passion for what you did. She envied your love for dancing, it wasn’t tainted by those who believed they could control the minds and bodies of little girls. But your love of it broke down every negative feeling she had associated with dancing. These new feelings scared her. She worried you would run away if she ever told you. How could a person like herself ever deserve love?

“Amazing performance,” someone congratulated you giving you a quick hug. It was a little overwhelming as you walked out into the lobby after the performance. Everyone, rather you knew them or not, came up to congratulate you on a job well done. You were grateful, each praise gave you more confidence in your dancing ability. However, you were looking for her. It was easy to spot the redhead while you were on stage because you knew the seat and row she was in. Now, in a sea of people, you were lost.

Finally, you found her, dressed in black jeans and a leather jacket. She was leaning against the wall as she played on her phone. With a smile on your face, you closed the distance between you and the Black Widow. “Hi,” you said as you got closer. She looked up.

“You were incredible,” she said, slipping her phone into her pocket. “And some background character, you were the main dancer,” you giggled, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “Dorogoy (sweetheart), you were amazing,” you weren’t expecting the Black Widow to take you in her arms and lift you in the air. You laughed, drawing some looks but you didn’t care. Soon she placed you back on the ground, a little surprised at her sudden action. “I’m sorry,” she said. She tried to pull away from you but you kept your arms around her neck. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m just really proud of you.”

“It’s okay, Nat,” you smiled. You were sweaty, probably smelt horrible but that didn’t matter with you being so close to Natasha. Her green eyes flickered to your lips and back to your eyes. But your name was called out and broke whatever trance you both were in. You groaned.

“You’re the woman of the hour,” Natasha chuckled. “It would be wrong of me to keep you all to myself,” you bite your lip, looking towards the direction your name was called.

“15 minutes,” you told her. “Meet in the theater, okay?” The redhead smiled.

“Okay, 15 minutes.”

“15 minutes,” you repeated, kissing her cheek before heading back into the crowd of people. Butterflies danced in your stomach. You just performed one of the hardest technical pieces of your career but you were more nervous to tell Natasha you loved her.

As Natasha walked into the quiet theater, the lights turned on and soft music began to play. You walked out from the curtains with a smile. “Come dance with me,” you said, holding out your hand. Natasha smiled, took her jacket off, and jumped onto the stage.

“How do you have the energy to dance?” She asked. “I am tired from watching you,” you giggled as she took your hand in hers.

“I will always have the energy to dance with you,” it was a different type of dancing than Natasha was used to. She wouldn’t call it dancing, just gentle swaying to the music with her around your waist. Sometimes Natasha would spin you and bring you back into her arms. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did,” she teased. “Of course, ask away.”

“Why do you dance?” You asked. “What made you walk into a dance store and buy a new pair of pointe shoes?” The question took Natasha by surprise. It was a dark and complicated answer. She wasn’t here to dump her messy history but to celebrate you and all your hard work. But the look in your eyes told Natasha it was okay. That all those hours spent together she could trust you.

“I dance to punish myself,” she admitted but your expression didn’t change. “In the Red Room, ballet was a form of punishment. We were forced to spend hours at the bar with perfect form; no breaks, no food or water, and we were beaten if our form faltered.” She felt your play with the hair that didn’t make it in her ponytail. “So when I fail I dance so I can remember that pain.” You hummed.

“And now?” You questioned. “Why do you dance with me if dancing brings you pain?” Natasha let out a breathless laugh. She was thankful she took off her jacket because, under the lights and the intensity of your eyes, she was feeling a little warm.

“Because,” she licked her lips. “You made me fall in love with dancing,” Natasha whispered. “Because I fell in love with you.” A small squeak left your throat at her confession. Natasha laughed, picking you up and spinning you around.

“I love you too,” she set you down. “I think I fell in love with you when you saved me in Chicago,” the Black Widow smiled. You brushed your nose against hers. “Kiss me,” you whispered. Natasha didn’t hesitate as she connected her lips with yours. The kiss was messy, desperate, and she tightened the hold she had on you as if she was afraid you were going to disappear. You pulled away but Natasha chased after your lips as she became addicted to the feeling of your lips. Luckily, you didn’t fight her. This kiss was gentle, slow, and soft. Natasha sighed against your lips and rested her head on your shoulder.

“Your so beautiful malen’kaya tantsovschitsa (little dancer),” she mumbled against your shin. She felt you shiver.

“Nat,” she hummed. “Sit with me,” you pulled away and Natasha stopped the whine from leaving her lips. She didn’t want to be away from you but you got her to sit down on the stage. You pulled out your phone, turned the music, and placed your phone down. You grabbed her hands. Natasha loved the feeling of your hands. They were soft and smooth, warm which was a stark contrast to her cold hands. When she danced with you, she didn’t allow herself the luxury to enjoy it. “I want you to listen to me. Can you do that for me, baby?” She felt her cheeks burn at the term of endearment but she nodded. “You are a hero,” she scuffed. According to the government, she was a sleeper agent ready to be activated She was a threat. “You are. Unfortunately, you were subjected to pain and torture at a young age,” Natasha couldn’t look at you so she stared at your connected hands. “You were forced to do horrible things because of that you think saving the world is strictly on your shoulders.” With a gentle hand, you used a finger to lift her chin.

“That is not your weight to bear, sweetheart,” you smiled. “I can’t imagine the guilt but your past shouldn’t limit your future. You deserve happiness and love.” It was getting harder for Natasha to hold back tears.

“I don’t,” she whimpered. You didn’t know the blood that covered her hands or how many lives she ended.

“Oh, baby, yes you do and I promise I will remind you every single day if you let me,” she nodded and you stood up on your knees, bringing her into a hug. Her body shook against you and she was grateful you didn’t draw attention to her tears. It felt good to cry, therapeutic. She couldn’t recall the last time she allowed herself to cry. In hindsight, it was such a basic human emotion but she never allowed herself to feel it. But as she cried in your arms, feeling a weight being lifted off her chest she felt safe. And loved.

When Natasha felt the buzzing, when the guilt began to feel all-consuming, and she was drowning from the bloodshed and screams, she didn’t turn to dance. Because dancing didn’t remind her of pain, of instructors yelling at her and other young girls to be perfect. Natasha would pull you closer to her chest and bask in the morning sunlight in your studio apartment. The faint smell of the lavender that you claimed helped you fall asleep, calmed her racing heart. She felt you stir, feeling slightly bad about waking you up. You moved onto your back, eyes blinking open slowly. Natasha smiled. “Hi baby,” your voice was slurred. The redhead traced the lines of your forehead, down to your nose, and lips. “A nightmare?” Sleep was clearing from your eyes. Natasha hummed in agreement. “What do you need?” Instead of answering, she kissed you slowly.

“I have everything I need right here,” Natasha whispered. “I love you, malen’kaya tantsovschitsa (little dancer).” You smiled.

“I love you, Natty.” Oh, Natasha was never going to get tired of hearing it. _

As a reminder my requests are open, it may take me some time to write them! I'll write for pretty much any character and not just Marvel!

Also, this AU was really cute. Like I said in the beginning if people want to see more, let know me! Especially if you have any ideas.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x female!reader #black widow x reader #black widow x you #black widow one shot #black widow imagine #black widow fanfiction #natasha romanoff imagine #natalia romanova x reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha x you #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #Natasha romanoff x y/n

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slut4thebroken · 1 year

Text

The Assignment

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Red Hood x reader

Summary | Red Hood takes a rare job. The assignment in question? Punish your father through you.

Warnings | HARD KINKS sexual content, 18+, non con, dub con, gun play, knife play (barely), kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, threats of violence, degradation, objectification, face fucking, choking, fear play

Words | 6k

Notes | please please please read the warnings. While this fic isn’t technically rape because of reader’s mindset, the word is still used multiple times.

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Use of r word. Please don’t read if this will be triggering- this is the last warning.

Eyes fluttering open, you tried to remember where you were and how you got here. You remember going to a club with your friends, then a few hours later waiting outside for them as they used the bathroom before going back to your friend’s apartment. But you don’t remember them actually coming out of the club or any of the events after.

The room was dim, only lit up by a light behind you. It looked like some kind of abandoned warehouse. You felt the burn on your wrists as you tried to move them under the rope binding you to the chair.

“I’ll be honest,” The distorted voice from behind you made your head snap up as you took in a sharp breath, “this isn’t the kind of work I normally do. But I just couldn’t resist.”

“W-who are you?” You stammered, feeling your heart pounding in your chest.

“The better question is, who are you?” Two hands were placed on your shoulders, making you jump. You hadn’t even heard him walk toward you. “Your father has made quite a name for himself.” The distorted chuckle made your blood run cold as you stiffened.

“I- I don’t know anything, I swear. He doesn’t tell me anything.”

“That’s not why you’re here.” His hands started slowly moving up and down your arms. “You see, some people aren’t very… happy with his choices. Normally I’d prefer confronting the problem directly, but this was just too tempting. And I figured, better me than some other creep who doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

“So- what, you’re going to torture me?” You couldn’t hide the tremble in your voice. He just chuckled and rounded the chair, standing in front of you.

“Something like that.”

Your breath hitched as you finally got a good look at him. He was massive and covered in an assortment of weapons. The red helmet gleamed under the dim light and you watched as he tilted his head slightly, like he was examining you. You suddenly felt very self conscious in just your skimpy dress and strappy heels.

“Do you know who I am?” You nodded breathlessly in response. You had seen the blurry pictures of him on the news but they did no justice to his actual appearance. “Then you know what I’m capable of.” Once again, you nodded silently. You’d heard the stories of people left nearly dead and people left actually dead.

“Good. Now that we’re properly acquainted, we can get started.” You hadn’t noticed before but your body is trembling, your stomach pooling with dread and fear, but also anger. Anger toward your father for letting this happen, that he chose to bring a child into this life despite the risks. Anger that you’re sitting here right now instead of him.

“They said punish him… Now that’s pretty open to interpretation if you ask me.” He dropped down so his face was level with yours and grabbed your thighs, right above your knees, then he parted them slowly. Your cheeks grew warm as you felt the bottom of your dress moving further up your thighs the more he parted them. When you attempted to close your legs, his grip turned bruising and you let out a small whimper.

“You really don’t want to make this worse for yourself.” He warned. Your legs opened in defeat and he loosened his grip. When his hands started moving up your thighs, you could see the red marks left behind from his fingertips.

“What are you going to do to me?” The fear in your voice was obvious.

“Relax, princess. You’ll live.”

“So you are going to hurt me?” You asked quietly, staring into the whites of his helmet with wide eyes.

“That’s entirely up to you.” His hands reached the top of your legs and he brought them to your inner thighs, then snaked them back down.

“I- I have money. I can pay you whatever you want.”

“You mean you have daddy’s money?” He sneered and your face flushed in embarrassment as you looked away from him.

“How ‘bout this,” He took a gun from his leg and held it up, “You pick a number between one and ten. If you guess right, I’ll let you go. But if you guess wrong…” He trailed off into a chuckle and you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Well, to put it simply, you won’t be leaving here.”

“I- I don’t…” You floundered for a response as you eyed the gun.

“Go on, princess. Pick a number.”

“How do I know you won’t lie and shoot me anyway?” Despite the venom in your voice, it still trembled in fear. He let out a low chuckle and moved the gun to your leg, following the same path as his hand.

“I guess you’ll just have to trust me.” He all but shrugged, making you scoff.

“Why should I trust a man who kidnapped and threatened to kill me?” You snapped and he let out a low chuckle again.

“I like the mouthy ones.”

The barrel met the apex of your thighs and you jumped at the contact. He didn’t hold it there long though. Instead, he slowly trailed it up your torso and neck until it was pointed at your chin.

“Go on. Give me a number.” His voice was quieter now as he leaned into your space.

“I- I don’t want to.” You whispered, trying to move your head away from the gun. He brought his other hand up to hold you still by your hair and pushed the barrel harder against your chin.

“No?” He slightly tilted his head, emphasizing the question.

“No.” You managed to say, even though your throat was closing up in fear. He waited a beat before finally releasing you.

“I have a better idea.” He retrieved a knife from his pants and cut the rope on your wrists. “Stand up.” Rubbing your sore wrists, you tentatively rose to your feet.

“If you can get to the door, you can leave. I’ll even give you an advantage.” He held the gun out to you and you stared at him with wide eyes. You eyed him skeptically, trying to figure out why he was doing this. “It’s not a trick.” He chuckled. You tentatively reached for the gun and examined it once it was in your grasp.

“Safety’s off. All you have to do is pull the trigger. You do know where the trigger is, right?” You looked up at him with a scowl.

“Yes.” You said bitterly. Pointing it at him, you noticed how obvious the shaking in your hands has become. You eyed the door across the room and started circling him. He moved along with you until your back was to the door. You started moving toward it, never removing the gun or your gaze from the man in front of you, but he matched your steps.

The first time you fired the gun, it flew right past him and he didn’t even flinch. You adjusted your grip and took a deep breath, trying to concentrate. This time when you fired it, he was in front of you before you could even blink. He didn’t make a move for the gun, all he did was spin you around and push your back, making you stumble forward.

“Are you even trying?”

You growled and whipped around to face him. The second you had it pointed at him, you pulled the trigger twice. He moved a little to the side and the first one flew past him but the second one grazed his helmet, making it crack. Only a tiny part of his eye was visible now, but even most of that was covered by a second mask. All thoughts of making it to the door were replaced by curiosity.

“I’m impressed.” The voice was no longer distorted and holy fuck that is not what you were expecting. You were expecting some old man, or someone at least ten years older than you- someone gross. Someone you’d never let touch you with a ten foot pole. This changes things... Watching him take off the helmet, you stood frozen as it dropped to the floor. This changes everything. Not that you condone Stockholm syndrome… but maybe you understand it a little now.

Before you even realized what was happening, he had you up against the wall, both hands pinned by your head and the gun discarded on the floor. His eyes roamed your face as he tilted his head again.

“I- you… what?” You said breathlessly, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Cat got your tongue?” He smirked, making your cheeks burn. You swallowed thickly as you got a good look at his face. You stared at his eyes for a second, admiring the color, before moving your gaze to his lips and wow-

“What happened to all that fight from earlier?” He slid both of your arms up and he could grab your wrists in one hand. “All the bargaining, the pleading.” He used his other hand to hold your face by your cheeks and leaned in until you felt his breath fanning your lips. He waited for a response and when he didn’t get one, he continued.

“Not so easy to pretend like you’re still being held here against your will when it’s with someone who looks like me, is it?” He moved a leg between your thighs and lowered his voice, “I’d bet there isn’t anything I'll do to you that you won’t beg me for first.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you stared at him with furrowed brows. Even though you wanted to call him cocky and delusional… He’s right. And he knows he is.

“Although I’m not sure I’ll really be completing the assignment if you actually enjoy it. Maybe I will have to hurt you after all.” The hand moved from your face to your neck and immediately squeezed. “But I think you’d like that too.” He sneered, making you look away from him with a blush.

“No…” You whined, not meeting his gaze.

“No? Shall we test that?” You looked back at him in confusion, but his hand was already leaving your neck and striking your cheek, making your head snap to the side as you gasped. You didn’t even have a chance to get your bearings before he was grabbing your neck again and slamming your head into the wall. Releasing a pathetic whimper, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to control your breathing.

“I don’t know… it seems like you like it.” He teased, lifting his leg until it pressed against your core. You let out a shaky breath as you willed your body to not chase the much needed friction.

“Fuck you.” You whispered.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get to that.” He smirked, then quickly turned you around and roughly shoved your front into the wall. You let out a soft grunt from the impact and then his whole body was pressed to yours. When you turned so your cheek was resting on the wall, the gun on the floor caught your attention and you realized that without his helmet, you might actually have a chance now.

Doing your best to ignore his hands grabbing your hips and sliding up to your waist, you tried to come up with a way to distract him that might actually work. After a beat, you did the only thing you could think of that might give you a chance.

You reached behind yourself and placed your hand over the bulge in his pants, then squeezed lightly. His hips bucked forward as his grip on your waist tightened. You palmed him through his pants, ignoring how absolutely fucking huge he feels, and waited until he placed his hands on the wall, caging you in. You took an experimental step back and grinned when he followed.

Once you were far enough away from the wall and his hands were by his sides, you lunged for the weapon. You picked it up and were about to stand when his boot met your back, roughly shoving you to the floor. You scrambled to turn over, then pointed it at him from your sitting position. Your hope disappeared instantly when you were met with a second gun aimed at your face.

“I have to say, I admire your confidence.” He chuckled, stalking toward you, making you shuffle away from him. “Give me the gun before you hurt yourself.” He sighed, holding his other hand out. You scowled at the patronizing tone and kept moving backwards.

“I- I will shoot you.” You stammered, cringing at the way your voice wavered.

“Use your head, princess. After you try to shoot me and miss, what do you think I’ll do, hm?” He cocked the gun to emphasize his point. His steps quickened and he placed his boot on your chest, pushing you down and making you fall on your back with a grunt of pain. He didn’t remove his foot as he leaned down a little and pressed the gun to your temple.

“Give me the gun.” He raised his eyebrows expectantly and held his hand out. Your grip tightened as you swallowed thickly, debating what to do. His foot pushed down harder against your chest, making you whimper quietly. When he pushed down even harder, you finally handed him the weapon and the pressure lessened. He placed it in the holster on his leg, but didn’t remove his foot or the other gun from your body.

“I’m not a very patient guy. If I were you, I wouldn’t pull that shit again unless you want a hole through your pretty little head. Do you understand?” He gritted, pushing the gun into your temple harder. You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded as your bottom lip quivered in fear.

“Good.” He said quietly, then you felt him remove the gun and kneel over your waist. When you felt nothing for a few seconds, you opened your eyes to find him examining the weapon. He turned it over in his hand, then finally met your gaze.

“And to think… you were doing so well too, princess. You're lucky I don’t just kill you right now for that little stunt.” You swallowed thickly and closed your eyes again, trying to ignore the fear that was bordering very close on arousal.

The sound of metal meeting the concrete next to your head was almost deafening and your ears rang from the gun being fired so close to you. You let out a choked sob as you shook beneath him and reluctantly opened your eyes.

“What do you say for me being so generous?” He prompted casually, as if he hadn’t just shot the ground inches from your head.

“T-thank you.” You whispered, feeling your eyes burn as his figure got blurry. You squeezed your eyes shut again and bit your lip to hide the way it was trembling.

“Are you scared?” He asked quietly, dragging the gun down your chest to your navel. All you could do was give him a small nod.

“Look at me.” The way he spoke was almost comforting- almost made you want to obey. But apparently you took too long. The gun lifted your chin and he spoke more harshly this time.

“Look. At. Me.” He growled. You opened your eyes and felt the remaining tears immediately fall down your temples as he brushed the barrel over your lips.

“Open.” His tone left no room for argument, so you did what he said. The second your lips were parted, the gun was making its way inside your mouth. You gagged at the metallic taste, and then again once it brushed the back of your throat. He fucked it in and out of your mouth slowly and you just prayed it would be over soon.

“It’d be a shame if my finger accidentally just… slipped.” He smirked. “For you though. I could still fuck you with your brain all over the floor.” You whined lowly, and he released a dark chuckle.

“Yeah, I think I like that idea actually. Send you back to your daddy stuffed full of my come and with a hole in your pretty little head.” You let out a muffled cry and unconsciously squeezed your thighs together.

“Let him see you for what you really are. Just a mindless fucktoy. Or… brainless.” He chuckled.

Finally, finally, he removed the gun from your mouth. A trail of saliva connected your lips to the barrel which only increased your embarrassment. You panted quietly and looked up at him through wet lashes with furrowed brows. He groaned and tossed the gun to the side, then leaned over your face.

“So fucked out already and we haven’t even started.” He whispered, the corner of his lips turning up in a smirk. You just stared at him breathlessly. “You know I think I deserve a little something for you being a tease earlier, don’t you?” You nodded dumbly and his smirk grew.

He positioned you so that your arms were on the ground above your head, then shuffled up your body. He placed his knees on either side of your head, effectively immobilizing your arms. Wasting no time, he removed his length from his pants and took it in his hand, stoking it slowly above your face.

It was even bigger than it felt… The tip was red and beading precum. You eyed the vein on the bottom and felt your hole flutter around nothing at the way it was almost visibly throbbing in his hand. You were brought out of your daze by him slapping his length on your cheek, smearing some of the precum there.

“Open up, princess.” There was no hesitation when your mouth fell open. He slid his cock in, torturously slow, and didn’t stop until he met the resistance of your throat. “C’mon, relax your throat. I know a little slut like you can deep throat cock so fucking do it.” He growled, pushing deeper despite the way you were gagging and choking at the intrusion.

Truthfully you’ve never been good at deepthroating. You’ve always struggled with the multitasking aspect of it- relaxing your throat, remembering to breathe, no teeth, trying to hold back your gag reflex, etc.

He roughly pulled out, then slapped you, making you gasp. Grabbing your cheeks, he turned you back to him, then leaned down over you and spit into your open mouth. Fuck- if he keeps acting like this you feel like you might actually orgasm with no stimulation at all.

“Swallow.” He demanded. You obeyed and he gave you a satisfied smile that made you want to keep being good so you could see it again.

He entered you again, this time focusing on fucking your mouth rather than trying to get all of it in. You couldn’t tell which one was better though, because everytime he hit the back of your throat, you still gagged slightly.

“God it’s like you were fucking made to take cock.” He said through a moan, snapping his hips faster. After another moment of this, he thrusted inside but didn’t pull out. He shoved his length so far down your throat that you couldn’t even gag. You watched through blurry eyes as he threw his head back with a near pornographic moan. When he finally pulled out, you coughed and sputtered as your chest heaved, taking in the much needed oxygen.

He barely gave you a moment to recover before he was stuffing you full again, brutally fucking your mouth. His knees closed around your head to keep you from turning away from him. Hot tears rolled down your temples as you struggled to breathe through your nose.

“Fuck- keep crying, princess. Makes me so fucking hard.” He said through a moan, making you release a muffled whimper. When you met his gaze, he practically went feral. His thrusts turned frantic and desperate as he chased his orgasm. Finally, he stilled, fully inside your mouth, and you felt hot come hitting your throat. His stifled moans and whimpers made you whine and clench your thighs together. He slowly pulled his fading erection from your mouth and you swallowed, then coughed violently.

“One down, two to go.” He smirked, making you stiffen. Out of arousal or fear, you weren’t sure. He shuffled back down your body until he was between your legs. Gloved hands pried your thighs apart and you felt your cheeks heat up when he chuckled.

“Look at that… Already soaked through your slutty little panties. Can’t say I’m necessarily surprised though.” He dragged his thumb over the damp fabric, making your hips buck into the friction.

Pulling a knife from his pants, he twirled it in his hand before bringing it down to your body. He trailed the tip down from your navel to the top of your panties and you were frozen as you waited eagerly. The blade ran along the waistband until he reached the fabric covering your hip. He slid the knife under and pulled up, slicing the lace easily. You swallowed down a moan as he did the same to the other side.

He pulled the fabric away from your body and held it up so you could see your arousal on it. You flushed and looked away from him. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him put them in his pocket.

When warm and soft brushed your core, you jumped. He had taken off his glove and was slowly circling his thumb over your clit. You all but sobbed in relief at the much needed friction, even though his touch was feather light.

“Please.” You whimpered, making him laugh under his breath.

“Such a fucking slut… about to be raped and you’re literally begging for it.” The look of disdain on his face made you frown.

“I- I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry for being a slut or for begging me to rape you?” Your brows furrowed as you tried to think of what answer he wants. “Hm?” He added with a tilt of his head.

“I don’t know...” You said timidly.

“Course you don’t.” He snickered, making you flush in embarrassment. “Are there even any brains to spill or is it just empty up there?” You frowned and looked away from him. His hand came down on your clit, the pain making you release a choked moan.

“Fuck.” You cried, biting your lip to stifle any other sounds. He hit you hard. And you were just praying that was the first and only one because you’re not sure if you can take another. His thumb went back to rubbing light circles on your clit and you watched as his gaze roamed your body.

You wanted to beg him again. Beg him for more- for anything he’d be willing to give you as long as it was just more. But you were scared that he would hit you again or worse, stop completely.

He removed his hand, making you whine, and brought it up to your face. Two fingers entered your mouth and he pushed down on the back of your tongue, intentionally making you gag. He fucked them in and out slowly, then pulled back once he was satisfied with how wet they were.

Those same fingers roughly breached your opening and he wasted no time rapidly curling them up against your walls. You let out a choked sob at the sudden stimulation and subconsciously tried to squirm away from it. He slapped your thigh in a warning, making you mewl.

“God you’re so fucking wet.” The degrading tone made you cry out and squeeze your eyes shut from embarrassment. He inserted a third finger and you finally felt the burn of the stretch. When you felt his breath fan your lips, you opened your eyes to find him leaning over your face.

“You like it, don’t you?” He asked you curiously. All you could do was nod with a small whimper. “Of course you do.” He scoffed, grinding the heel of his hand against your clit.

“Your poor daddy... Where'd he go wrong, hm? Did he not spend enough time with you?” He frowned in mock sympathy. “Is that why you’re such a whore?”

“Please.” You whined, feeling so delirious with pleasure, you could barely focus on his words. The knot of arousal in your stomach was so fucking tight it almost hurt.

“What are you begging for, princess?”

“I- I want to come… Please make me come.” You whimpered. You could feel yourself growing closer to your climax and you arched up into his body as you tilted your head back with a lewd moan.

“Please!”

“Poor thing… You’re close, aren’t you?” You nodded rapidly and tried to focus on your impending orgasm.

He roughly yanked his fingers from you and you cried out as you came back down from the edge.

“No no- please! You have to let me come, please!” Your incoherent babbling made him place his hand on your neck and squeeze until the only sounds you could release were little squeaks.

“You’re not used to being told no, are you, princess?” He raised his brows and you frowned. “I have no intention of making you come tonight. But if you’re good… I might change my mind.” You nodded quickly as hope filled your chest.

When you felt the blunt head of his cock brush through your folds, you froze in anticipation. He teased your entrance, then dragged it up to your clit, and repeated the motions.

“Please…” You croaked, barely able to get out the word with his hand on your neck.

“Say it. Beg me to rape you.” He ordered, just barely pressing the tip inside of you before removing it. His grip loosened around your neck and you took in a heavy breath now that you were actually able to.

“Please r-“ You cut yourself off with a choked sob and looked away from him as your cheeks grew warm. “Please.”

“I'm not gonna do it unless you say it, princess.” He slapped his cock against your clit a few times, making you jolt and let out a long, embarrassed whine.

“I can’t.”

“Need I remind you that you’re here for a reason. I can use a different method to get the same result and I promise it’ll be much more painful for you.”

You let out a shaky breath and closed your eyes, feeling your lips tremble. You want it. He knows you want it. But you don’t know if you’ll even be able to get the words out.

“Please fuck me.” You whimpered, looking at him with furrowed brows. He looked at you with faux disappointment and sighed.

“Maybe you just need some motivation.” He said, then his hand was moving from your neck and being replaced with a knife. Your breath hitched at the cold metal and you stiffened beneath him.

“I wonder how much I’ll have to hurt you before you finally just say it.” He sighed, trailing the tip of the blade down your neck to your chest.

“Maybe I'll have to carve it into your pretty skin.” You trembled beneath him but other than that you were completely frozen. “Let’s find out.” He smirked. You held your breath as the pressure of the blade increased. After only a second or two you gave in.

“Please rape me!” You blurted loudly, waiting for the pressure to be removed. When it wasn’t, you continued. “Please, I- I want you to rape me.” You sobbed. After another beat he finally removed the knife.

“All you had to do was ask, baby.” He purred, leaning down and licking the bead of blood pooling on your chest.

His cock entered you so quickly, it felt like all of the air was punched out of your lungs. He didn’t stop until his hips were pressed to yours. Groaning loudly, he only paused for half a second before sliding back out then slamming in again.

“Fuck- how’s a whore like you so tight, huh?” He asked breathlessly. All you could do was stare at him, brows furrowed and mouth open in a silent moan. It burned. You were in no way a virgin but he’s big and you didn’t have the prep you’re used to getting.

Lifting your legs to hang over his shoulders, he changed the pace, mercilessly pounding your hole. He was chasing his own pleasure, that much was obvious in the way he fucked you. But for some sick reason, that turned you on even more.

“God, fuck- Maybe I’ll keep you here- have a fleshlight at my disposal 24/7. How does that sound, princess?” He said through a moan. You squeezed your eyes shut and released a pathetic sob as you shook your head. “No? But baby, I could feel you clench around my cock when I said that.” Your whole face felt like it was on fire. It probably looked that way too, based on his chuckle.

He continued the brutal pace and you felt like you couldn’t catch your breath because of how fast he was fucking you. By now, the pain mostly subsided and was replaced with an aching need to come.

“Look at you,” He cooed. “You just love being raped don’t you?” You were about to whine and shake your head but he continued before you could. “Don’t bother denying it, princess. I can tell you’re about to come on my cock any minute now.” He smirked. As much as you hated to admit it, he was right.

“But you don’t have permission yet, do you?” He raised his brows and tilted his head, emphasizing the question.

“Do you wanna know what will happen if you come before I say you can?” You knew his question was rhetorical so you didn’t respond. “I’m gonna pull out and ruin it. And then I’m gonna fuck your ass. Even if you’re not screaming and crying in pain, you definitely won’t be coming from that.”

You let out a lewd moan before you could control it and he chuckled under his breath.

“I’m gonna fuck your ass until I’m ready to come and then I’ll stick it back in your little cunt and fill you up. You’d think someone who’s such a fucking whore would be on birth control...” He laughed to himself and you stiffened.

“But it probably won’t take the first time. So I’ll have to rape your ass again and again, getting myself right to the edge, then filling up your pussy each time.” You made a mental note to remember to get some plan b after he lets you go.

…If he lets you go.

While the thought should make you sick to your stomach, you found that you felt maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. The realization that you felt that way is what actually made you sick to your stomach. But despite that, you could feel yourself growing closer to the edge, especially after his words.

“Please.” You whimpered breathlessly. “Please let me come.” He cooed mockingly and the sound went straight to your aching cunt. “Please, it- it hurts.” You whined, pouting and watching your vision go blurry from tears of desperation.

“Yeah, baby? Is your little cunt just aching for some release?” You nodded as a whimper escaped your trembling lips and his thrusts slowed into gentle rocking.

“Clearly I have my work cut out for me.” He chuckled. “If you’re gonna be my fuck toy, you’re exactly that. A toy. Your only purpose is to get me off. Now if you keep whining about it, then I’ll do what I said and rape your ass instead.” His tone turned dark and for the first time in a few minutes you actually felt afraid again.

“I- I’m sorry.” You whispered, not able to meet his eyes.

“I know you are, princess. That’s why I gave you a warning.”

“Thank you…” You said quietly.

“You’re welcome. Now how about you shut the fuck up and let me get myself off, hm?” Your stomach twisted at his words, but in the way that it added to your arousal, not your fear. You nodded and stared at him with wide eyes. “Good girl.” And then he was brutally pounding your hole again.

You watched the way his eyes rolled back into his head and his mouth dropped open in a silent moan. You could faintly see his eyebrows furrowing above the mask. When he opened his eyes again and looked back at you, he growled and leaned into your neck. He left a few kisses before roughly biting the sensitive skin, making you whimper. He sucked the skin into his mouth for a few seconds, then pulled back and moved to a new spot.

As far as you could count, you think he left about six in total. But your mind was already too hazy so you didn’t completely trust your math at the moment. Around the third hickey, you brought your hand up to his hair and pulled on it. It was only after the fifth one that you realized what you did and that he didn’t stop you. He kissed his way up to your ear and panted for a moment.

“You ready to take my come?” He whispered, his thrusts growing more erratic and frenzied. You nodded quickly with a loud moan and felt his breath against your ear as he laughed quietly.

Part of you wanted him to come already because you wanted him to fill you up. But the larger part needed him to finish soon because you were only a few thrusts away from not being able to control your impending orgasm anymore.

His hand wrapped around your neck again and he snapped his hips against you twice more, before burying himself to the hilt inside of you. He rested his head in the crook of your neck and bit your skin when the volume of his moans increased, making you whimper and tighten your grip on his hair. Despite him being completely inside of you, he still bucked his hips forward, trying to bury himself even deeper, emphasizing each thrust with a low groan.

The feeling of his come flooding you was quickly bringing you to your orgasm and you prayed he was almost done. After one last buck of his hips, he released your skin from his teeth and let out a heavy sigh.

“I wasn’t being completely serious when I said that stuff about keeping you, but now I’m actually considering it.” He mumbled making you laugh but still clench his cock as his words went straight to your pussy. He hissed and leaned up until his face was above yours. His eyes moved between yours and your lips and you stared at him breathlessly as you waited for his next move.

Instead of kissing you like you were hoping he would, he leaned up completely and gently placed your legs back down around his hips. He slowly pulled out of you, making you whine at the emptiness, and you felt his cum leaking out of you and dripping down to your ass. But then you felt his fingers, bringing it back up and pushing it inside you again. You internally begged him to put his fingers inside of you- or anything, just as long as you were full again.

He seemed to pause in thought, then removed his hand and grabbed your panties from his pocket. He wiped his own dick then moved on to you. You flinched at the rough material being rubbed over your sensitive clit as he cleaned you up. Finally he tossed them on the ground next to you and stood up, tucking himself back in his pants.

He grabbed his phone from his pocket and took a few photos of you, the sound of the camera deafening in the silent room.

You laid there, panting, dripping cum, desperate for release. He just collected his weapons and helmet and started walking out.

“W-wait!” You called after him, moving to a sitting position.

“What?” He barked, making you flinch.

“Will… will I see you again?” You asked quietly, your face blushing all the way down to your chest. He walked back over to you and you felt your stomach drop, worried you had made him change his mind about killing you. He leaned down so his face was level with yours and you watched his gaze move between your eyes, then to your lips. He looked like he was deep in thought. His jaw clenched and you bit your lip, trying to contain any reactions.

“The next time I need to fuck something, I’ll find you.” Your eyes fluttered at his response, your heart beating faster in your chest at the promise of a next time. But also beating faster in your cunt at his blatant objectification of you. Christ, maybe you should try therapy, you thought with an internal scoff. He gave you a small smirk, then walked out. You didn’t stop him this time.

Part 2

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