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five-bi-five-mind · 1 year

Note

Could you please make a fic of Wanda and reader. Vision kisses Wanda even though they are broken up. Reader punches Vision and Wanda proves to reader she only loves the reader. Smut at the end bd happy ending please

I'm Yours Too

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!Reader

Words: 9.5k+

Genre: Angst & Smut

Summary: Vision doesn't take the sight of you on his ex girlfriend's arm very well. What was supposed to be a night of Wanda proudly showing off her lovely girlfriend turned into a night that almost broke the both of you. But Wanda isn't one to let you get away so easily.

Warnings: Toxic!Wanda, jealous!Wanda, possessive!Wanda, alcohol use, mentions of cheating but not really (it's a misunderstanding), top!Wanda, bottom!Reader, fingering, strap on use (all r receiving), magic strap, also cum strap with a tiny bit of a breeding kink...

A/N: This doesn't 100% follow your prompt, anon, but it's pretty darn close! Also ha... don't know what came over me with the smut oops. I just really love writing toxic Wanda railing reader I guess....

Agreeing to go to this party was a big mistake. At least that’s what you were beginning to believe as the minutes ticked by and you were still sitting alone at the bar, two and a half drinks down when you thought you’d only have one. But then again, you also thought your girlfriend wouldn’t ditch you for so long to go god knows where.

Crowds weren’t your thing either and Wanda knew that. So when she got invited to Tony’s extravagant party she knew she would have to do some convincing. Luckily for her, she also knew exactly how to get you to agree. Right now, as you sat nervously in a sea of party goers, downing your third drink, you were really regretting how easily you folded.

Your fingers tapped on the bar counter as you considered ordering a fourth since Wanda was still nowhere in sight. The alcohol would calm your nerves hopefully, but the rational side of your brain told you to slow it down. You weren’t drunk, but you definitely weren’t sober either. It might be best to keep yourself as level as you can be while teetering that line between tipsy and drunk. At least until you find Wanda.

It didn’t help that, not only had Wanda ditched you, but the moment you two got there she was preoccupied with whoever was blowing up her phone. You assumed that was why she told you she needed a moment and made her way through the crowd without you. What also added to your frustration was that you couldn’t find a single soul you knew. Natasha had graciously thought to text you to tell you she would be there but was running late. At this point, between waiting for your girlfriend and waiting for your best friend for what you think is about thirty minutes, your patience was wearing thin.

You decided to give it just five more minutes. If you didn’t see Wanda return to your side or Natasha to swoop in and rescue you, then you’d go hunt down your girlfriend. The only thing was now you couldn’t decide if you wanted to drag her back to the bar and then freely let yourself get drunk with her watchful eye on you as you let go of your anxiety or drag her ass back home and into the comfort and safety of your very cozy bed. You were leaning towards the second option.

No matter how many times you checked your phone, it didn’t change the fact that you had no new notifications. Not from Wanda, not from Nat, not from a single person you thought might be at that party. No, the only notification you got was the warning that your phone battery hit 10%. With a heavy sigh, you decided that was the sign to go find someone you knew. Preferably your missing girlfriend, who you were now quite frustrated with.

Pushing yourself off the bar, your eyes set their sights on the exit to the main hall of the party. You’d scour the entire place if you needed to so you could find your girlfriend and hopefully convince her to get the hell out of here. You’d already been scanning the crowd in the main part of the event and you’d definitely caught at least a glimpse of her red hair through the crowd, but alas she was nowhere insight.

With gusto, you pushed through the crowd until you reached the exit of the crowded room and was just met with a few scattered groups of people here and there in the halls leading up to the main event space. You took a deep breath, you might not have been outside necessarily, but at least you were away from all the excitement and the reduced noise was refreshing to you. Quickly, but still carefully as you scanned your surroundings, you made your way through the rest of the building. Still no Wanda. You were getting farther and farther away from the party and deeper and deeper into the more secluded parts of the convention center. Tony really picked a maze to rent out, you thought as you chose random halls to turn and search through.

All the while, you were checking your phone. You had sent more than a few texts to Wanda, each conveying a little more of your frustration than the last. None of those messages went answered, let alone read. What was worse was there was still no sign of Nat. She promised to text you the moment she arrived and you at least trusted her to keep her word, so you knew you at least wouldn’t run into her in these halls.

After a few more turns, you realized the sound of the party’s booming music was now nothing more than a dull hum. You were probably on the complete opposite side of the building. Your hopes in finding Wanda were starting to diminish and for a second you seriously contemplated just calling a car to take you home. But as if by some miracle you finally heard her voice echo down the hall.

Your pace picked up as you followed the sound of her voice. Finally, you could get the hell out of this place. Being left at the party for so long had already made you ready to leave, but having to search through an unfamiliar place for so long meant you weren’t going to budge on that decision. Wanda was going to take you home and there wasn’t going to be any argument about it.

“Wanda, where did you go?” You said as you caught a glimpse of her when rounding the corner of the hall. “I’ve been looking all over for-“ You cut yourself off when she was fully in view. Only she wasn’t alone. Stopping dead in your tracks the scene before you felt like a gut punch. There she was, Wanda, the woman you love, wrapped in the arms of the man she used to be with. Your world felt like it shattered in two seconds.

Neither heard you, but Vision was the first to see you. He pulled from Wanda’s lips to lock eyes with you. His face was devoid of any emotion when he took in your shocked expression. As if he didn’t realize he was taking away the one person you love most in this world. As if what you caught him doing was nothing to him.

Wanda’s reaction was the exact opposite of Visions when their kiss broke, but you didn’t notice. Your eyes locked on the man who was currently all over your girlfriend. You couldn’t begin to look at Wanda, but if you did you would’ve noticed the way her body was absolutely ridged in Vision’s embrace. The moment Wanda realized Vision had pulled away, her hands pressed hard to his chest and she gave a powerful shove. His arms fell from her, but when he didn’t even acknowledge her fuming in front of him, she turned to see where he was staring off to.

And then her heart stopped. The anger Wanda showed towards Vision immediately transformed into concern as her eyes locked onto your face. Wanda knew what this looked like, and it wasn’t good.

Wanda didn’t have to read your mind to understand exactly what you thought this whole ordeal was, she could see it written all over your face. The problem is, it really wasn’t what it looked like.

Wanda had been getting bombarded with messages from Vision from the very minute she arrived with you at Tony’s party. He caught a glimpse of her with you on his arm and it sparked something in him to decide tonight was a night to make a stand. After messages flooded in, Wanda’s mood was souring when she was really hoping to enjoy this night and show you off to everyone as hers and hers alone. Only, she couldn’t do that when she was getting increasingly pissed off with Vision and she was growing concerned he’d make a scene. So, she gave in and abandoned you at the bar to go have what was supposed to be a brief chat. She knew you’d be frustrated by this, but she had hoped she’d be back quick enough to make it up to you. Wanda was incredibly wrong.

Vision and Wanda argued back and forth for well over half an hour. Wanda was clearly standing her ground, but unfortunately so was Vision. When Wanda felt more and more buzzes from her phone as the arguing went on she knew when she returned to your side you’d be pretty angry with her and then there went her evening of parading her girlfriend around proudly for the world to see. So, since the argument with Vision was getting nowhere Wanda tried to cut him off and just walk away. But “tried” is the key word here, because before she knew it he caught her off guard.

Vision was never one to make bold moves. When Wanda was with him, he was always incredibly predictable. It was part of the reason they didn’t work. He was just… boring. There was no spark. But tonight, Vision was a little less predictable than Wanda expected. Before she could turn she found herself pulled back and into his chest and within a blink suddenly she found his cold lips pressed to hers. Immediately, she wanted to retch. The feeling of anyone touching her in any kind of way felt wrong to her, when she found you she knew you were the one she’d been searching for. To even think about being with anyone other than you in any sort of intimate way made her skin crawl, so to have Vision’s lips pressed against hers felt like the most unnatural thing in the world. It made her want to rip his lips off, if she was being totally honest.

Admittedly, it took her a moment to get over the shock of his bold, but incredibly uncalled for actions, but when she did register exactly what was happening that was when the rage set in. That was also, unfortunately, a moment after you saw the scene as it unfolded.

So now, here all three of you were. Vision still oblivious to the rage he caused in Wanda. Wanda was looking at you with a mixture of panic and sympathy, knowing exactly what you must be thinking right now. And then there was you, still just standing there utterly frozen.

Your eyes finally drifted over to where Wanda stood and the look she was giving you made your stomach painfully turn. Wanda’s eyes were glued to you and all you could see in them was extreme guilt. Did she feel guilty she got caught? Did she feel guilty she just witnessed your heart break in front of her? Whatever that guilt was, it suddenly turned your shock into pure anger.

Your mouth opened and closed, trying to find the right words to respond to the shit show in front of you, but then you realized there were none. You wanted to scream and curse and, honestly, knock Vision’s lights out if you even thought that was possible. However, you knew none of that was productive and you also knew if you started screaming you’d also start crying and you didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of that. You didn’t want to break yet, not in front of Wanda and especially not in front of Vision.

So, you start to turn around. Your current plan: cut and run. This place is so much of a fucking maze, you were sure you could lose Wanda while you waited for a car to come.

Except, you should’ve known Wanda was faster than you, so when you started to speed walk away she left Vision in the dust to follow right on your heel.

“Wait, fuck, just wait!” Wanda yelled from behind you. You shook your head, there was no way you wanted to hear her out. Your blood was boiling and you could already tell you were two seconds away from losing your cool. You just had to get a fucking car and then you could lose it in the comfort of your own home. “Come on, where are you even going?”

“Away from you,” You said over your shoulder. It was a miracle you were even able to dodge bumping into anyone as you were struggling to escape Wanda and call an Uber at the same time. There were a lot of factors that were making it way too difficult for you to escape a determined Wanda who was aggressively following you. One of the factors was that your hands were shaking so badly you could barely type what you needed to type in order to pick the right destination to get home and another factor was that your phone somehow ended up going from 10% to 1% in the time it took for you to find Wanda in the first place. Right before you were about to hit the button in the app to order your escape car, your screen went black and you stopped in your tracks.

“Fuck!” You howled, half tempted to throw your phone across the hall.

“Let me take you home,” Wanda stopped right behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “We can talk.”

You jerked away from her touch as if it burned and when you spun around, seeing that look of guilt again pissed you off even further. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“(Y/N), just come on, let's go to the car.” Wanda’s voice was level, calm even. She was doing her best to be patient and understanding, because she knew what you must be thinking. She would’ve been furious too if the positions were switched. However, the more calm she sounded the more you thought she was being condescending, even if there was no indication of that in her tone. You were just too hurt and angry to really pay attention to much else at the moment.

“I’ll find another way,” You spat. “I don’t want to be near you right now. I can’t even fucking look at you.”

That hit a nerve. For a split second you saw frustration towards you flash on Wanda’s features, but then in a blink it was gone and her composure came back. Wanda didn’t want to spend the night screaming at each other, she was going to at least try to avoid that. If she could calm you down she could explain and start making it up to you, but your behavior was quickly testing her.

“(Y/N), stop it.” Wanda’s voice was more firm as she spoke. “Let’s just go. How are you going to even get home without me? Your phone is dead. What’s your plan?”

“I’ll take her.” The two of you turned to follow the voice and to your relief there came Nat from the other end of the hall.

Natasha had some great fucking timing. You didn’t want to be near Wanda for another second and now finally your best friend was there to save the day. You didn’t even know how she found you in this place, but you were too thankful to even question it.

“Come on,” Nat extended a hand towards you. “I’ll take you home.” She nodded at you encouragingly, soft eyes meeting yours. She didn’t know what this was about, but she didn’t need much context to know that somehow Wanda majorly fucked up. Nat knew it was only a matter of time before that happened. She saw how territorial Wanda was with you and for some reason, Nat never trusted it. So, unfortunately for Wanda, Nat became almost as fiercely protective of you as she was.

“Okay,” You let out a shaky sigh of relief. “Okay, yeah.” You took her hand and that’s when Wanda’s patience was really wearing thin.

“I can take her home,” Wanda stepped in front of Nat quickly before she could pull you away. “We,” Wanda turned her eyes to look at you, “Need to seriously talk.”

“She said she didn’t want to, Wanda.” Nat answered for you. The glare she gave Wanda would make anyone else cower in fear, but directed towards Wanda it only angered her more. “I’m taking her home.”

“And what then?” Wanda challenged. Nat knew exactly what Wanda was implying. As much as you told Nat you reassured Wanda that the thing between you two was platonic, Nat knew Wanda refused to believe you.

“I’m just dropping her off.” Nat didn’t miss a beat, refusing to back down from Wanda’s attempts to intimidate her.

“Sure you are,” Wanda scoffed.

“Wanda!” You interrupted. This was ridiculously and you just wanted to go home. Right now really isn't the time to deal with a fight between the two people who care about you most, or at least who you thought did. “You’re not one to talk and I’m leaving right now.” With that you tugged on Nat’s hand and began to walk in any direction that didn’t lead to Wanda. You’d find your way out of this place somehow, hopefully, but right way or not you didn’t want to look at your girlfriend any longer. “Don’t follow us!” You ordered behind you as you dragged Nat with you.

Wanda stood there and watched you walk away. She wasn’t going to follow you, she already had a better plan. She was going to beat you home. After all, she did have a key to your place. Was it the best plan to corner you and get you to talk? No, Wanda thought this would definitely be a night full of yelling and arguing now, but she didn’t really give a fuck. She wasn’t going to leave Natasha alone with you while you were in this state. No matter what, Wanda just didn’t quite trust Nat with you. Whether Nat realized it herself or not, Wanda knew there was more to her feelings. She watched the way Natasha looked at you, she didn’t need to read her mind to know what her intentions were.

So as soon as the two of you were out of sight, Wanda rushed to her car. She was going to make sure she got there first.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The car ride with Natasha was silent, but you were incredibly thankful for that. You just sat with your eyes glued to the window. The passing scenery not even registering to you, all you saw was that scene of Vision kissing Wanda replaying over and over again. Natasha didn’t question what happened, she knew if you wanted to talk you would. Instead, she just drove, her eyes flicking over to you every once in a while to make sure you were okay.

When you both pulled up to your place, you asked Nat if you could sit in the car for a little bit, not quite ready to walk into your empty home and break down.

“What happened?” Nat tentatively asked, breaking the silence after a few minutes of you just sitting and staring at your front door. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” She quickly added, trying her best not to push you into doing or saying anything you didn’t want to.

“She kissed Vis.” Your voice was barely a whisper, your hands balling into fists on your lap. Natasha just stared at you for a moment. If she already wasn’t pissed with the scene she witnessed at Tony’s party, now she was furious.

“Whatever you need,” Nat offered, “I’m here.” She knew from your tone you didn’t want to give much more information, so she didn’t press. She just offered you what space she could and waited patiently as you both sat in silence for a few more minutes.

After some time went by, you finally nodded to yourself and started to get out of the car. Nat insisted on walking you in. You didn’t protest much, you understood she was concerned about you. Natasha’s intention was just to give you a moment to collect yourself once you sat at home and give you the opportunity to talk more, cry, whatever you needed. She figured you could tell her then if you wanted her to leave or not, but if you wanted her to stay she’d be the shoulder you needed to cry on.

So she followed you in, but what neither of you noticed was the familiar car parked on the other side of the street .

“I thought she was just going to drop you off.” You heard the voice in the dark the minute you and Nat walked in the door. It startled the hell out of you, but Nat just seemed unphased. She was somewhat expecting this behavior from Wanda. Natasha had hoped you two would make it time, so she could protect you while you did what you needed to heal from whatever pain Wanda caused. Obviously, that wasn’t going to be how the rest of tonight played out.

Reaching over, you flipped the lights on only to see Wanda sitting on the couch, arms folded over her chest and clear irritation written all over her face. You expected Wanda to chase after you, but you didn’t expect her to let herself into your place or to even beat you to it. Right now, you were really regretting giving her a key.

“How did you get here before us?” Was the only thing you could think to say as you stared at the one person you really didn’t want to be looking at right now.

“I should be asking you why it took you so long.” Wanda said, clearly still annoyed by Natasha’s presence. Meanwhile, Nat was just standing beside you, her arms folded just like Wanda’s, with a matching annoyed expression on her face. “What were you two doing in the car for so long?” You didn’t miss what Wanda was insinuating and you didn’t like it one bit.

“We were talking.” Natasha answered for you. “I was comforting her.” Wanda’s lips twitched at that and you knew Nat just hit a nerve. You bit your lip to stop the taunting smirk you wanted to give Wanda. Anything that pissed Wanda off felt a little like a small victory. She was jealous? Good, you thought, now she had the smallest taste of how you were feeling.

“I’m sure you were,” Wanda gave a tight lipped smile. “But we need to talk so I suggest you leave now.”

“I’m not leaving until she asks me to.” You looked at Nat in awe as she held her ground, not even phased by the brewing rage that showed in Wanda’s eyes. She stood by you, unwavering in her resolve. “I think it’s you who should leave.”

“Oh do you?” Wanda scoffed. “I’m not leaving. She’s my girlfriend, or have you both forgotten?”

“I think you’re the one that forgot that, Wanda.” You finally speak, fists clenching as you stand practically shaking. How dare she try to be territorial after she did what she did? You weren’t going to stand for this or for the way she was treating Nat. “And I agree with Nat. You should go.”

Wanda’s eyes left Nat’s for a moment and when they reached you, you could almost see them soften. She could tell you were hurting, could tell you were confused. All she wanted to do was clear the air, reassure you that what you saw was a misunderstanding that she doesn’t and would never want Vision in the way she wanted you. If she could just talk to you without Natasha’s frustrating presence then everything would be okay, she was sure of it. It would take some convincing, but you’d understand. She’d make you understand.

But then, Nat placed her hand on your waist and something inside Wanda snapped. You saw her eyes zero in on the contact Natasha made with you and you didn’t miss the way her eye practically twitched as anger began to rise yet again. “I’m not leaving.” Wanda held her ground. She was sure as hell not going to let you be alone, vulnerable and hurting with someone like Natasha to come prey on your current state. Wanda wasn’t a fool, she could practically picture what would happen. “Not until we talk. Alone.”

You looked from Wanda to Nat. On the one hand, you really wanted your closest friend to stay by your side, on the other hand you could imagine things would get ugly if Nat were to stay. It was clear, Wanda really wasn’t going to leave until you two talked. Either way, you imagined things would get ugly, but at least you could save yourself a little bit from even more embarrassment by having Natasha avoid the total blow up that you knew was bound to happen.

“It’s okay, Nat.” You heard yourself say before you could really register your decision. “I’ll be okay, why don’t you head home?”

Nat’s jaw clenched as she glared at Wanda for a moment before looking back at you. “Are you sure?” You felt her hand squeeze your waist gently where it rested and all you saw in your friend’s eyes was concern. “I don’t have to-”

“She said she wanted you to head home.” Wanda cut her off, stalking towards the two of you.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Nat spit, not even bothering to look over at Wanda as she came closer. “I can stay,” she reassured you.

You shook your head. Wanda was two seconds away from making this even worse than it already was. You weren’t entirely sure what Wanda would do to Nat, and you knew Nat could hold her own, but you also didn’t necessarily want to test any of that. “It’s okay, really.” You placed your hand over the hand Nat still had resting on your shoulder. “If anything happens,” You said in a hushed voice. “I’ll call you.”

“Please do,” Natasha urged. She looked back between you and where Wanda stood. Thankfully Wanda stopped just a few feet from you both, seemingly satisfied for now that Natasha was agreeing to leave. She felt triumphant that clearly, even when upset with her, you knew to choose her in situations like this. If she wasn’t still so concerned with getting through to you, she would be gloating at the fact that you chose her. Of course, she had no doubt that you wouldn’t. You were hers and she knew that you knew that. Then again, she also thought you would never believe so easily that she would just willingly touch and be touched by another, not when you two were so clearly in love. But then, here you both were.

You gave Natasha one more nod of reassurance and Nat just looked back at you, hesitant to take her eyes off you for even a second, but the tap of Wanda’s foot told her if she didn’t leave things would escalate even further fast. So, with great hesitation, she turned from you, giving you one last concerned look before heading out the door and closing it behind her.

It was silent for a moment. Your eyes were glued to the door Natasha had just walked out of and Wanda’s were glued to you. Neither of you knew how to start, but you knew if you started you’d just dig in. You were hurting and two seconds away from starting an all out war with Wanda, but you also knew that wouldn’t be productive. If you were being honest, the only thing you wanted to do now that Nat was gone was crawl into bed and sob your eyes out.

“(Y/N), it wasn’t what it looked like.” Wanda finally broke the silence, taking another step towards you.

You just scoffed and walked past her to the bedroom, making sure to not-so-gently brush her shoulder as you passed. If you two were going to have this fight you needed a minute. At least you wanted to change out of your party clothes. “That’s a cliche,” You said over your shoulder as you walked into the bedroom. Wanda just stood there stunned for a moment, not used to getting the cold treatment from you. It was quickly beginning to irritate her.

Turning on her heels, Wanda was right behind you in a matter of moments, following you straight into the bedroom. “It wasn’t,” Wanda insisted, watching as you walked into your closet and began to pull out different clothes.

“I’ve heard this all before,” You called from the closet as you dug for more comfortable clothes. “I know this story. I was just stupid to think…” You stopped and shook your head before gathering your clothes. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to hear it, Wanda. I honestly still want you to leave.”

“Just let me explain,” Wanda sighed, sitting herself down on your bed while she waited for you to come back out of the closet. With clothes in your hand, your eyebrow quirked as you saw her get comfortable. Something about the image of Wanda in your room, on your bed, after you saw what you saw was making you feel more bitter. It made you think back to the kiss you witnessed and made you wonder how many times Wanda was in his bed since being with you.

“Get up and turn around.” You commanded as you stood right outside of your closet.

“What?” Wanda eyed you curiously. “Why?”

“I’m going to change.”

“I’ve seen you naked before,” Wanda deadpanned.

Yes, she certainly has, but the idea of her seeing you like that now made your stomach churn. Being vulnerable like that with her was a privilege you gave to her when you thought she was only being that intimate with you. Now, though, everything has changed. “I don’t care.” Your tone was harsh. “Get Up. Turn Around.”

Wanda stared you down for a moment. You just stared back with exasperation and Wanda realized you wouldn’t budge on this. With a loud and dramatic huff, she got up from where she sat herself on your bed and turned as you began to pull off your party clothes and slip into something more comfortable.

It didn’t sit right with Wanda that you had her turn around. It was one little crack in her hopeful plan to convince you. It was a sign that you were slipping from her and the thought of that sent anxiety creeping up her spine. She tried to tell herself it was just your way of punishing her for the scene you saw. Once you understood it would be okay, she told herself. It had to be okay.

“You can turn around now.” You said and immediately Wanda jumped at the opportunity to look at you again. She hoped that if you saw the sincerity in her eyes you’d be convinced faster that she wasn’t cheating on you, but when she saw you look at her with nothing but an aloof expression, she was worried it wouldn’t be so easy. Not only that, but she was already struggling to keep her composure with your stubborn attitude.

“Can we talk now?” Wanda was trying so hard to be gentle about this. She knew she had already lost her cool a few times tonight, especially with Natasha, and that wasn’t going to win her any points but she still really just needed you to hear what happened.

“Talk.” You muttered, standing in front of Wanda with your arms crossed, trying to appear as closed off from her as possible. Wanda felt that crack in her hopes and composure once more, but she shook it off for a second and took the opportunity you were giving her.

“Vision kissed me.” Wanda started. “I didn’t kiss him.”

You just rolled your eyes at that. One thing you knew for sure if you were to even consider believing Wanda was that you were going to need more explanation than that to make this all okay. Even then how stupid did Wanda take you for? Vision might have kissed her, but she wasn’t the one to pull back either.

“Mhm, and that still makes it okay how?”

“I didn’t kiss him!” Wanda exclaimed in frustration. “It wasn��t me who did that!”

“Yeah, but you didn’t stop him either did you?” Wanda’s patience wasn’t the only one’s who was running up. You already didn’t want to hear her excuses tonight and she was doing a horrible job at convincing you of tonight’s fiasco being about anything other than selfish actions by two people to hurt you.

“I was shocked,” Wanda sighed, knowing that she was sounding less convincing by the second, but still she wasn’t going to let this go. She wasn’t about to lose you. “He caught me off guard and it took me a minute to react. Didn’t you see me shove him away? Didn’t you see how angry I was?”

“Yeah, you only did that after you both realized I got there.” You scoffed.

“No,” Wanda shook her head adamantly. “No, I didn’t know you were there.”

“Sure.” You really weren’t buying any of this. Even if it was true that she wasn’t expecting the kiss, that she didn’t want it, there was something still nagging at you. “Why did you even leave me to go see him in the first place?”

“I just wanted a nice night,” Wanda offered. “He wanted to talk, so I agreed and thought after we could get on with our evening.”

“You left me alone for over thirty fucking minutes, Wanda!” All of these excuses Wanda was giving you felt like it was belittling the hurt you felt. You knew you hadn’t really let her talk long but you were already tired of hearing all of it. You were tired of this conversation and you were about done. “Why didn’t you even think to tell me it was him you were going to meet? Do you know how suspicious that looks?”

“I know, I know!” Wanda pleaded. “But there’s nothing going on between us. You have to believe me.”

“How?” You sneered. “How am I supposed to believe you? Obviously, there’s something going on. Otherwise he wouldn’t have kissed you.”

“(Y/N), there’s not and you know it. You’re just too angry to listen to reason.” Wanda took a step closer to you, trying her best to get through to you with as much patience as she could muster after this trying evening. “You just need to calm down and-”

“Don’t.” You seethed. “Don’t tell me what I need to do. What you need to do, Wanda, is leave. Now. I’m done talking for the night.” That was it, you had it for one evening. Wanda accusing your emotions of skewing your perspective may have been right but it wasn’t what you wanted to hear right now. You didn’t really want to hear anything, you didn’t even want to talk tonight but here you were. On your part, you thought you heard her out way more than she deserved for the night. Especially when you felt like you made it clear you didn’t have much interest in doing this tonight in the first place.

“I’m not leaving.” Wanda held her ground in front of you. You two just stayed there for a moment, staring. Your expression challenging her to back down, hers daring you to push her further. Your fists clenched and unclenched as you tried to figure out your next move and then it dawned on you. If she wasn’t going to leave you were. And since you were beyond hurt and angry, you knew you leaving her there alone to soak in the mess she made was perfect punishment for the pain she caused you.

Without a word you turned and started rushing around the room, gathering a few things you’d need for an overnight stay elsewhere. Wanda constantly questioned you as she watched you scurry around the room, but she didn’t stop you just yet. She had hope you’d stop and come to your senses before you got too far. All you did was dodge her questions and keep on moving. You hadn’t exactly figured out where you’d go for the night, but if she wasn’t going to leave you weren’t going to stay and you were pretty sure you’d figure out where to go once you actually got out away from Wanda. With clothes stuffed in your arms and your keys in hand, you thought the only good thing about this situation was the anger and shock had sobered you up very quickly. You had a few drinks at the party, but that isn't affecting you as much anymore. The one thing that might affect your driving was the threat of tears that might spill once you were completely alone. It was a risk worth taking, you told yourself, because one more moment next to Wanda and you were going to break down in front of her. That was still something you wanted to avoid.

You reached the door, your hands still full as you struggled to turn the knob and open it. In two quick strides Wanda was right behind you, her hand reaching in front of you to slam the door shut the minute you had it barely cracked. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” She hissed through clenched teeth. Obviously, you hadn’t come to your senses in time so she realized she had to step in and stop you before you did something reckless.

“If you’re not going to leave, then I guess I will.” You turned slowly, trying to glare Wanda down and not show any sort of reaction to the anger burning in her eyes.

“Where will you go then, huh? To Nat’s?” Wanda practically spit Natasha’s name out her mouth as she spoke. “What so Vision kisses me and now you’re going to go fuck your buddy?”

Your eyes widened in shock at that. “What are you even talking about, Wanda?” You had always known Wanda was a jealous person and she was definitely not subtle about her disdain for Natasha, but you didn’t actually think she’d accuse you of that. Then again, you also didn’t think she’d cheat on you with Vision, but here you two were. “There’s nothing between me and Nat, but you’d think that wouldn’t you? Paranoid about us? Makes sense, if you’re seeing Vision behind my back of course you’d be worried I’d be doing the same thing with someone else.”

“I told you,” Wanda said through gritted teeth. “Vision kissed me. I am not with him.”

“Why didn’t you pull back? Why were you in his arms? It didn’t look like that!” You asked again, daring her to give you a better answer. Actually no, you didn’t want to give her another opportunity for a shitty excuse, you just really wanted to leave. It was just hard to actually do that when Wanda still had a firm hand on the door, keeping it shut as she cornered you between her arms. “Well, Wanda, you can go be with Vision. I don’t care! I don’t care who you fuck and you don’t have any right to care if I go out and fuck Natasha.” Not like you would, but at this point you just wanted her to feel the hurt you were feeling. “I’m leaving.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” Wanda’s voice wasn’t a yell anymore. It was low, dangerous, and threatening. You did manage to hurt her, but even worse, you managed to make her absolutely rage too. Wanda’s hands left the door and quickly went to either side of your waist, her nails digging into your skin through your shirt as she not so gently pushed you against the door. “Do I need to remind you that you’re mine?”

Your jaw clenched, your anger has already obviously gotten the better of you, but now it’s gotten the better of Wanda too. She got angry, sure, but she was always careful around you. She had good control of it, at least usually. She knew that if she went off around you it could scare you, and that was the last thing she wanted. So she reined it in for you, but now you were threatening to go be with someone else? She couldn’t have that. All of this started because of Vision and Wanda silently made a promise to herself to take care of him at a later date, but right now she needed you to understand just how badly you fucked up now. And as you watched Wanda seeth in front of you, you were beginning to regret those words.

“Wanda, you don’t just get to own me and go fuck around with Vision.”

“For the last fucking time I am not!” Wanda’s words echoed throughout the room. Her eyes swirled with red magic and you knew that was a sign that Wanda was very quickly losing any ounce of control she had left. The red in her eyes burned like fire as she stared you down. You felt her fingers dig harder into your skin as she held you and you could tell she was trembling at this point too. She was beyond control now as she had you pinned to the door. “And I do own you,” Wanda hissed before pressing herself fully to you.

You grunted at the feeling of her pressing you impossibly close to the door. Your hands went up to her shoulders to shove at them, to try to get her to back off, but it was like she didn’t even notice. Which, that would make sense considering you knew Wanda was much stronger than you. Wanda leaned in so close to you that you felt her breath ghost your lips and in any other moment you would’ve been weak at the knees, but with the way the look in her eyes was completely unhinged, her close proximity only made you gulp.

“I have never,” she put as much emphasis on each word as she spoke, “been with Vision since I met you.” Wanda was speaking in a whisper now, but you didn’t miss the way her lips twitched in anger. You also didn’t miss the way you felt Wanda pin you more with her body than her hands and then you realized it was her way of being able to move them freely without the risk of you running.

One of her hands moved up until she was gripping your chin while the other started to snake down your body. With her hold on you, you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to, but that wasn’t your main concern. Your main concern was the feeling of Wanda popping the button of your pants open. “Wanda…” This time all the anger left your voice and the only emotion it had in it was fear. This wasn’t something you wanted to happen with Wanda. She was always loving and gentle with you. You weren’t used to this side of her. Wanda had talked to you about the darker sides of her, but you never imagined you would see it full force, but now here you were. And you were honestly a little bit to blame. You pushed her buttons, you wanted to hurt her and hurt her you did. It should’ve been obvious that Wanda’s response to hurt wouldn’t be the best.

“You’re mine, (Y/N),” Wanda whispered before turning your chin with her hand, letting your neck be exposed to her. “But don’t worry… I’m yours too.” WIth that you felt Wanda’s teeth sink into your neck and the hands that were once trying to push her away grabbed fist fulls of her shirt.

“Wanda!” You tried to sound firm but your voice quivered as you spoke, obviously affected by the way Wanda’s teeth dragged down your skin, even if you didn’t want to be right now. You knew, you should probably try harder, but it was also Wanda and her touch always broke your resolve. Except, you were still hurting and not sure how much you believed Wanda even if she said she was yours, even if she said she wasn’t with Vision. You wanted to believe her, which might be why you weren’t exactly trying that hard to protest her touch, but then you felt her hand begin to slip into your panties and you knew you had to shut it down.

“Wanda, I don’t want this,” your voice was quiet, but firm. And that’s all it took for Wanda to utterly freeze. You both were breathing hard for a moment, Wanda’s body still pinning you to the door as you both stood there. As much as Wanda wanted to prove her point, stake her claim on you, she would never do it against your will. She lost herself and suddenly her blood ran cold as she took in just how badly she lost control. The thought of you being with someone else, that made her blood boil, but you not wanting to be hers anymore? That made her terrified.

You were the bright light in her life that she was missing for so long. You were someone Wanda was waiting for and she never even knew it. She had tried with Vision, had tried to make things work, but try as she might there was always something missing. That is, until you smiled at her, your eyes filled with nothing but innocent admiration for her. It took just one smile from you and suddenly Wanda’s whole world lit up. The thought of not having that anymore was unfathomable to her. You were the source of her happiness, the air she breathed, all Wanda knew since the moment she met you was, well, you. She couldn’t lose you, but she’d be damned if she ever actually hurt you. And fuck she came so close…

Wanda’s hands immediately moved, but they didn’t let go of you. This time they found their way back to your waist and her head moved back to look you in the eye again. Immediately, you knew you got through to her, but you also knew she was two seconds from breaking too. “I was not with Vision.” Wanda said this more firmly. No more anger in her voice, but still it was filled with utter conviction. “I wasn’t. I’m sorry that I… That I almost- but I wasn’t. I was not with Vision.”

“Okay,” you nodded, swallowing hard. “Okay.”

“I’m yours, I couldn’t be anyone else’s.” In that moment you really believed her. After all the anger had passed you could finally see it. Just as you couldn’t have fathomed Wanda doing something like that before you saw what you saw, she couldn’t fathom doing something like that to you either. “I. Am. Yours.”

“I know,” You whispered, your hands finally relaxing on her shoulders. “I believe you.”

Wanda sighed for a moment, but you could tell she was still waiting for something. She still had a tight grip on you and she wasn’t going to be letting go any time soon, but you knew it was out of fear this time and not anger. There were words she wanted to hear, but she had already pushed too much, already made a huge mess of things. The way she almost took what you weren’t willing to give, she couldn’t overstep again or she knew it wouldn’t end well for the both of you, if there still was something between the both of you.

“I’m yours too.” Wanda’s eyes searched yours as you spoke. She wanted to make sure this wasn’t said out of fear, especially considering how she was acting just moments ago, she wouldn’t be surprised if you were lying to protect yourself. But you weren’t, she could see it in your eyes. You looked sad, yes, but you weren’t scared when you said those words. Wanda didn’t need to read your mind to know that, not that she ever would. She might have lost control, but she would never violate you like that or in any other way, despite how close she had come. She still stopped when you said no, she still resisted the urge to read your thoughts when you were pushing back so hard.

Wanda took a deep breath. “I can’t lose you,” she said, her voice quiet as she spoke. Her head pressed against yours, unable to look into your eyes as she tried to get out her one request. “Please, don’t go to Natasha’s tonight.”

“I won’t,” You whispered, your hand reaching up to cup her cheek. “I’ll stay, okay?”

Wanda didn’t say anything, you just felt her nod before her lips pressed gently against yours. This kiss was filled with emotion, filled with love and longing. You knew she was trying to show you she wouldn’t hurt you again in the kiss, but you also knew she was struggling to hold back her need to confirm you were really hers. Your hands moved and wove into her hair and you pulled her body closer to yours yet again. You were still trapped between Wanda and the door, but this time you didn’t mind. The hands that had already popped the buttons of your pants open were still at your waist, but as the kiss deepened you felt them begin to drift back to where they once were. Only this time, you were more than happy to let Wanda’s hands roam.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you,” Wanda whispered against your lips.

“It’s okay,” You said between kisses. “It’s okay.” Your grip on her hair was tighter as the kiss shared between you two grew more desperate. There was an unspoken understanding of what Wanda needed and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need it too. She needed to prove to you that you belonged to hers, and you needed her to touch you in a way you knew was only reserved for you.

Wanda’s hands slid straight into your panties and with the way she was kissing you and even the way her teeth marked your neck before, you were already wet for her. When Wanda’s fingers brushed against your clit to collect your wetness, she immediately felt that surge of pride and possession she got from touching you. She knew only she could have this part of you, only she could make you feel this way and touch you in this way. That fact alone had Wanda eager to take all you’d give.

Wanda’s lips moved to your neck once again and when you felt her teeth drag along your skin you couldn’t stop the quiet whine that left your lips. You were driving Wanda crazy and she already had so much possessive energy she needed to pour into you, so she didn’t waste any time. Without much warning, you feel Wanda slide her fingers down between your folds before two of them dipedp into you.

Your hands clench impossibly tighter into her hair and she didn’t hesitate to start a steady rhythm. It doesn’t take long for moans to fall from your lips and Wanda thinks they are music to her ears. She’s drunk off your reactions and off the way you clench around her fingers when she hits the spot she knows you love. All of this feels so much more intense after the night you two had, after Wanda almost lost you and after you thought Wanda wasn’t yours. Now you both know, there’s no one who could take you two away from each other. Wanda was yours and by some miracle you were still hers. Not Natasha’s, not anyone’s, only Wanda’s.

The thought of that spurred Wanda’s movements more, pumping her fingers harder into you. Your hands left her hair to steady yourself on her shoulders, your nails digging into her skin. It was getting difficult for you to stand up straight, what with the way Wanda was pressing her hips into yours with every pump of her fingers and how your pants and panties had both somehow fallen down your legs enough to give Wanda more ease in fucking you.

If Wanda was drunk off your reactions, you were absolutely lost in her touch. The way her fingers felt inside you, the way her tongue felt on your skin. You didn’t even mind that in the morning your neck would be covered with visible marks, the sting of her teeth sinking into your neck too tantalizing to care about much else in the moment. You felt that tight pull in the pit of your stomach that indicated you were fast approaching the edge, but Wanda wasn’t quite done yet.

“I want to feel you cum around my cock,” Wanda growled against your neck, her fingers pulling out without warning.

You were already too lost in your own pleasure to really realize anything she was saying but the minute you lost contact your confusion overtook you. “Wanda what? What do you- Fuck!” Wanda didn’t waste any time, magicking her pants away and a strap between her legs. It took her two seconds to line it up with your entrance and replace her fingers with it.

The back of your head hit the door the moment you felt her sheath it inside you. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as she ground herself into you to get herself as deep as possible. And then she hoisted up one of your legs, hooking it over her waist so her cock could go ever deeper inside you. The whole time, her iron grip and unwavering strength held you steady as she just pressed herself into you, enjoying the feeling of reaching deeper than she ever had before, deeper than you think you’ve ever taken anyone before. Wanda did that for a moment, enjoying the way your walls squeezed her cock. But then it wasn’t enough and with a growl she pulled out and started fucking you with abandon. You two had tried using a strap-on before, but this was definitely a new one. Wanda couldn’t help the pride she felt at your ease in taking all of her despite the size and the aggression in the way she was pumping herself inside you.

You didn’t think she’s ever fucked you like this. No, you knew this was new. She was always gentle, always making sure her touch was controlled and loving. This wasn’t the same, her touch was more possessive than it ever had been, all consuming. You had hit a nerve, you had threatened to not be hers, and now she needed to prove to you that you belonged to her, heart, mind, and especially body.

The sounds of your hips hitting the door with each time Wanda pushed her own into yours sounded all throughout the room. With each moment Wanda pushed into you she let out a groan and you understood that her magic somehow allowed her to feel everything she was doing. Her nails dug into the thigh that was hooked to her waist and her other flew to your throat, pressing down just enough to drive you wild but not enough to bring fear.

You, for the most part, were just trying to take Wanda’s cock in the best way you could, moaning her name, chanting fuck when she began to speed up. It was all overwhelming in the best way and you knew Wanda could feel your thighs shake as she drew you closer to the edge.

“Fuck, you feel good.” Wanda grunted in your ear as she continued to pump her cock into you. “So fucking good. Fuck fuck!” Wanda’s pace became erratic and the hand that was pressed to your throat flexed as she avoided temptation to press down harder.

All you could do was moan as your hands grabbed at Wanda to keep yourself upright. You could tell by the force of Wanda’s hips pushing into yours that you’d have bruises, but you couldn’t begin to care with how good it felt to have Wanda’s cock buried in you.

“I’m going to cum,” Wanda groaned. “Fuck, I want to fill you with my cum.” Wanda’s cock slammed into you and you could tell by her trembling body that she was incredibly close. “I’m going to cum inside you.”

As Wanda kept fucking herself inside you came out of your haze just slightly to question what she meant. Curious if it was something said at the heat of the moment or something Wanda actually meant. “Wanda what do you mean- oh fuck.” And suddenly you got your answer. Wanda cried out and you felt hot spurts of Wanda’s cum fill you from the inside. As her faux cock still moved inside you, you felt her continue to fuck her cum deeper inside you and the sensation was too much for you to take, you yourself falling apart on her cock just seconds after.

Wanda slumped forward, her forehead pressed to yours as you both tried to catch your breath. You felt her cum drip down your thigh when Wanda finally let your leg fall from her waist, but you weren’t recovered enough to move from the door and clean yourself up yet.

“You’re mine,” Wanda whispered before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Don’t ever forget that.”

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shalotttower · 4 months

Text

Fractalize (part 1)

Title: Fractalize

Fandom: Hunter x Hunter

Summary: Lack of hope creates a strange kind of numbness.

Word count: 3700+

Characters: Chrollo x Reader (female)

Notes: yandere Chrollo, kidnapped, depressed and miserable Reader, Reader is dissociating a lot, morbid pondering, suicidal thoughts, explicit/triggering language/words, Reader's thoughts on possible sexual assault in future. Part 2

Fractalize - making things into smaller copies of themselves over and over again.

Sometimes you stand in front of a mirror and try to picture yourself in another timeline. One where your life didn’t take this specific turn. You try to imagine a different setting, a different apartment - perhaps the one you had before Chrollo started moving you around like a luggage bag. Maybe living in a cottage by the sea or an old farmhouse. Someplace rural, peaceful. With a garden and fresh air, far away from the city noises.

It's difficult at first, your reflection keeps slipping through your mental fingers every time you think the image is set in place. But with practice it becomes easier, sort of, so you can now see yourself clearly as you brush your hair - not here.

A blue dress on, made for nights at parties with friends. Laughing until your stomach hurts and eyes become sore. Making silly faces over alcoholic beverages. Or you can wear your favourite jeans with a high waist and head out to the pub, the same one with crooked stools and a broken sign. Drink cheep bear, eat greasy peanuts from a little bowl, listen to some small band play unknown and unheard songs.

Leave intoxicated, and everything is too fast and vibrant and wonderful until you're back home.

It's your favourite pastime now: imagine, remake and slip.

Imagine. Remake. Slip.

You don't quite remember the last time you laughed, a month ago maybe. Maybe more. Lack of hope creates a strange kind of numbness, dull, cold, you would compare it to a winter plastered all over your insides, but it's almost colder than that. It freezes everything and turns it into icicles hanging off the roof.

Remake, slip.

You have new vocabulary now.

"Mm" - is for when he asks you if you like a dress or a top and it doesn't matter how you actually feel about it, because it's going to end up being worn anyway.

"Okay" - is for when Chrollo sets another fancy meal for you on a dinner table and "Eat, don't be shy".

"I'm not hungry" - doesn't work with him, even if it's the truth. You always eat what's put in front of you, that's the rule, because he's not above shoving the spoon into your mouth, so you spare yourself the tears and sobs that will probably come with that. It's so bizarre: how much effort he puts into keeping you alive when you're anything but.

"Whatever you want" - is for when he asks you something that requires a choice, between two or three options usually. He's not one for an extensive list.

"If you say so" - for everything else.

You used to delude yourself with the idea that if you managed to appear pleasant enough, pleasant-talking, pleasant-listening, smiling a bit here and there, it would gain you some privileges and perhaps a bit more freedom. It did. But never where it really mattered. Those little things were absolutely inconsequential in the grand scheme. Yes, you can have that sweater, dear. No, you can't have your own bed. Yes, you can come shopping with me, if you give me a kiss. No, you can't take walks without me holding your hand.

Yes this and no that.

Those moments were fragile and so very takeable that they didn't give you any sense of accomplishment, just a short respite and bitter aftertaste that made you feel pathetic.

Wasn't worth it.

***

"Do you like animals, dear?" Chrollo asks out of the blue one day. He's reading something on his tablet while you're curled up on the couch, watching TV.

It's a new series that's been on the major channels for a few weeks, a mystery drama about a girl who moves into a house she inherited from her grandfather. The picture provides a distraction enough to have you forgetting where you are for a brief period three times a week.

You pull the blanket higher. "I do."

He knows it.

The girl on the screen finds a mysterious box hidden in the attic. Perhaps there's something valuable inside. Or information about her grandpa; your fingers tug on a loose blanket thread without much thought.

"What kind?"

Or maybe it's just a time capsule with photos and postcards and random objects collected over the years.

Or-

You had a cat before he took you. A foster grey ragdoll with blue eyes who liked to rest on your belly and bump her head against your chin. You called her Miss Whiskerton and kissed her little nose, because she did act like a proper lady - poised, dignified and entirely too proud to eat food mixed with medicine. The worst enemy Miss Whiskerton has ever had in her cat life was the corner of your couch. When you weren't paying attention, she would dig her claws into the fabric and leave thin lines. You hope that someone took her in.

She probably thought you abandoned her.

"Cats."

Chrollo hums in acknowledgment and continues scrolling through whatever he's looking at - maybe news or auction listings, you don't know nor do you really care. You shift under the blanket, pulling your legs closer to your body.

"We can get one, if you'd like."

"No."

Your answer is immediate and short, without thinking. You know it, you know him by now - there's nothing Chrollo does out of spontaneous generosity, it always benefits him in some way. And you've studied him enough to figure that any pet would only be a tool to keep you tamed and compliant. Puppies make life better. Happier, lighter, with goofy smiling faces and wiggling tails. Cats make life better with soft purrs and paws stomping on your chest. They're too easy to love.

"Why not?" There's a sound of tablet set on a wooden surface.

The girl on the screen is trying to solve a combination lock on the box when the TV switches off and your little world of carefully shot scenes and scripted lines vanishes. You don't need to turn around to guess where's the remote.

She almost had it, but now you won't know what's inside until Thursday evening.

Your reflection stares back from the dead screen, blank-faced and with a blanket pulled up your nose. It tickles a bit. "Because I don't want one."

A chair creaks. "Why?"

You close your eyes shut for a moment before opening them again. This is tiring. Always probing, digging, pushing. Trying to find chinks in your armor, but all you're wearing is just a flimsy dress with thin straps and a blanket you wish could swallow you whole.

"Don't need it."

"You said you like animals," Chrollo sits next to you and places a hand on top of your covered legs. He squeezes your thigh and you stare ahead, wishing he would just leave you alone tonight.

"I do." Your fingers twitch under the blanket, nails scratching at the fabric.

Strange. Sometimes it feels like he understands perfectly that you want to be alone, have time for yourself and don't want his constant physical presence. At the same time Chrollo brushes this all aside like old tin foil wrappers - insignificant. He pulls the blanket down and you cling on it stubbornly for a few seconds before letting go. His thumb and index finger grasp your chin and turn your face towards him so you have no choice but to meet his eyes.

There's such still intensity within him that made your skin crawl whenever he looked at you with this much focus and attention. You don't know what he saw there most times, it used to be fear or anger or sadness - right now it's none of these things. Everything inside you feels jammed and stiff.

"We should get a fish then," he continues, brushing hair out of your forehead. "You can watch it swim around, wouldn't that be nice?"

Chrollo talks to you like this sometimes, as if you're a child who needs to be convinced to eat veggies or take medicine. Like you're simple-minded and he's reasoning with you out of good will. It's sickening. You hate it.

"I don't want a pet," you repeat the words slowly. "If you're going to give me something only to take it away, then I don't want it."

His finger leisurely stroking your chin pauses at the edge of your bottom lip. Something flickers behind his eyes, it's barely noticeable but you've become good at catching those minuscule shifts. He smiles, yet there's nothing joyful about it. "Take it away? Why would I do that, dear?"

"Because that's what you do. Because that's how you are." You don't try to pull free from his hold, he'll only tighten it; not enough to hurt, no, he is too suave and polished for that - or wants to appear so - but enough for you to feel trapped under his palm.

There's something off about you, you can tell, but are not quite able to discern what or where. It sits in the very structure of your bones and eats away with ravenous appetite. An imbalance in the gut. Fever-warm body, cold fingers. Thoughts like potholes.

"And how am I exactly, according to you?" His voice is light, playful, a stark contrast to his eyes that study you with unnerving precision. Chrollo rarely loses his temper and never gets violent with you (yet, you correct yourself), but he has other ways of expressing displeasure, and they're petty, ugly and cold.

"Cruel," the word rolls off your tongue so effortlessly that almost frightens you; it's easy to tell the truth when you're this numb.

He looks taken aback for a split second, and the smile freezes. His hand stops midway to your hair. Then everything's gone.

Chrollo releases you and leans back into the cushions, almost thoughtful, like your observation is something that requires careful consideration.

"I suppose, it depends," he says finally.

"On what?"

"On how you choose to see things. Your perspective is bound to be biased, dear."

You don't respond.

To continue this conversation would be pointless and circular, like running on a treadmill, like everything else between you and Chrollo, really. He simply has too many answers to any possible argument, and no matter how convincing you manage to make them sound, he'll poke holes into each one. You don't want a fish. Or a cat. Or a dog, a bird, anything that moves and breathes and looks at you with big, trusting eyes.

Chrollo is cruel. Not in a way that's straightforward and brutal. Not in a way of someone who'd tear your limbs apart or rip off a fly's wing to see it wiggle. You have no doubt that he is capable of such a thing, but that would be uncouth. Cruelty in his case is a quieter, more delicate affair - in a way of a sculptor who'd chisel off everything unnecessary and unneeded, no matter the size or significance, to produce something entirely his.

His hands are soft, his voice is always composed, and he wears well tailored clothes. But the rest is sharp, clean and merciless.

"I think I'll go to bed," you say and push away the blanket.

"It's early."

"Mm."

He takes your hand just as you're about to slide off the sofa. Chrollo's always faster than you, always ahead and always observing, and that little realization while bitter is not so shocking anymore, more like another fact that you file away from your interactions.

You watch him. Wait.

"You're distraught," he says. "But you should know by now that there's no need for that."

Your hand remains in his grasp, limp and heavy.

"I don't enjoy seeing you upset, dear. Even more if you make false conclusions."

You turn to see the expression on his face - and there isn't one, at least not the type that most people would make. There are no frowning eyebrows, no clenched jaw that would indicate irritation, nothing like that.

"You're giving me too little credit," his tone is quiet as he runs his fingers up and down your wrist. "My intentions are not to hurt you. They are much, much sweeter than that."

"But you would," you say quietly and lean closer, ignoring the obvious implication behind his words. There is a hollow sensation inside of your head that prompts you to speak, everything is hollow - body and mind, heart, the space in your guts, your throat. "You would hurt me, if that's what you thought was necessary. Rip me apart and leave me deformed beyond repair, to fit into whatever framework you've laid, you would do that."

You're not being deliberately cryptic or fatalistic. These are your observations, based on a period of months spent together. They take root in no one being there for you anymore, in your phone which is long gone, in your closed accounts, your missing laptop and old clothes, the entire previous life in the city that has been discarded for something new. Chrollo was very methodical, you can give him that.

He doesn't listen, he studies your responses. Every single word. He has a talent for that, for absorbing everything about you while hardly ever letting you glimpse his interior - all that you know about him are tiny slivers which you picked up through living together, observation, accidental bits.

You expect him to contradict your statement, to offer a logical explanation why you're wrong, but instead Chrollo brings your hand to his lips and presses a kiss against your knuckles. The touch is light and dry.

"You're not entirely wrong, dear," he says and moves closer until you can smell his aftershave, something fresh.

His proximity is uncomfortable, it always is and probably always will be.

"I'm right then," you say.

"No," he keeps your hand in his grasp. "But you're not entirely wrong either. That's what makes you interesting."

There's a strange kind of fondness in his voice, it's subtle, yet undeniably present. You've never felt less interesting in your life, in a dress with thin straps that's too fancy for a lazy day at home and your bare feet and tangled hair.

"If you say so," you respond and slowly tug your hand free. "I really want to sleep now."

You get up, and he lets you go without another proposition. The blanket falls off onto the sofa, and before you slip into the semi-darkness of the bedroom, he says,

"Not beyond repair. But I like to believe we can both agree it doesn't have to come to that."

***

The drive feels endless. Houses and streets blur in a mix of colors, shapes and people, which soon change to an empty highway with greenery on both sides. Trees and fields, tall grass swaying gently in the wind and rare cars passing you by. Chrollo's hand is resting on your leg; he hasn't moved it since the car started, but you choose to ignore it in favor of your regular pastime, the one that's made of imaginary worlds and places where the timeline stretches differently.

Mostly it's just you and the layout of your fake apartment.

Imagine, remake, slip. Repeat the steps until it becomes muscle memory.

You have this daydream on loop now. Wooden floor and wide windows, lots of sunlight. Books everywhere, comfy clothes and not a single skirt in your closet. A cup of tea with honey in the morning, and Miss Whiskerton curled into a soft grey ball on your lap. You feed her salmon in a shiny bowl, occasionally she catches a lizard outside and drops the tail on your doorstep as an offering, looking immensely proud of herself.

A smile slips on your face without meaning to, a wobbly thing; you promptly wipe it off.

It would be a crime to show such blatant joy. This fantasy has become so sweetly personal that every fiber of your being resists even acknowledging it in front of Chrollo. He can sense a stray happy thought from miles away, like a hound, and will never stop prodding until everything is raw and tender. You've learned to say less in his presence, especially if it's something that has you invested. Chrollo knows how to pick things apart.

You lean your cheek against the glass. This world would never happen, never in a million years, but dreaming doesn't hurt anyone, does it?

Your grandma, wearing an apron, sets a tray filled with fresh pastries on a table, because she's amazing like that. She fusses and worries and pretends to scold you. For not calling enough, for not coming sooner, for not eating well. For leaving.

"Dear."

You almost jump.

Chrollo's voice brings you back where his hand is heavy on your leg, you're wearing a dress above the knee and aren't allowed to use scissors or knives.

"Mm?"

"That frown of yours," he says, turning into a small road. The surroundings change again, it's quiet here, not a soul in sight. "It's been there for fifteen minutes now."

You sit up straight and move your hair out of your eyes. Chrollo's a perceptive one, so this is a reminder not to sink too deep around him, unless you absolutely need it.

"Was just thinking."

"You do it a lot lately," he states and looks at you from the corner of his eye.

True, but you have no intention to confirm it. First, he won't like the reason behind these thoughts. Second, he will dig and try to worm his way in. No. Most of what you've been fixating on, staring out of the window like a mindless drone, or reading and rereading pages that you barely grasped, would fail to create anything more complex in his heart than desire to pull it out.

For whatever twisted reason, Chrollo cares for your well-being, or, more precisely, your acceptance of his advances. Yet his way of caring isn't nurturing in any sense.

Chrollo's interest (you don't dare call it love) is crushing, too heavy to carry - he'll find what troubles you and "fix it" in way that will twist it into something pathetic. Something that shows how you have nothing else to cling on but him. You're not stupid enough to keep falling into this trap. Being a slow learner doesn't mean you don't learn at all.

He's done it before. He'll do it again. So you reply, "I haven't noticed."

His thumb rubs circles on your thigh; you press your shoulder against the car door as if hoping it might open. It doesn't, much to your disappointment.

"What was on your mind then?"

Something you shouldn't tell him, that's for sure. Chrollo's watching you, even if his eyes are trained on the road.

"Random stuff," you say. Half-truths, half-truths are safe. "A weird dream I had this morning."

If you bothered to look, you'd see a raised eyebrow and the faintest hint of amusement at the corners of his mouth. You don't.

"Tell me."

You hate when he does that.

"It was boring."

"I'm interested in anything that made you so pensive."

Chrollo likes conversations with you, even if they're short. You can tell that he does, or he wouldn't be trying to make you talk and getting subtly frustrated when you choose not to. It never shows outright, Chrollo is very gifted at keeping his calm exterior, but there are certain giveaways like the slight tightening of his hand, an emphasized "dear", a pause here, or a quiet exhale through the nose. You could make a list out of these.

If you ignore him, he gets quiet and handsy or petty enough to throw away the only dress you feel comfortable in. Stop bringing you new books. Take you to places you hate.

It's always the small things that kill you, not the big, dramatic ones. The devils in the details.

"There was a lizard," you begin, and he hums in response, prompting you to continue. "It was cute with brown spots and a tiny tail."

Lies weave themselves easily, intertwine with truths and turn it into something that resembles a story.

"It was sitting on my windowsill and I wanted to pet it. A cat came out of nowhere and almost ate it, then I woke up. It's a silly dream."

There. Nothing to dissect here, not that you can see. Just a nonsensical dream, filled with random happenings and strange emotions.

"And that's why you frowned for fifteen minutes?"

"Yes, I got sad."

Yes, you think. Yes, Chrollo. I frowned, because I care for the damn lizard that doesn't exist, an animal from a dream. A stupid musing, nothing special, a very mundane and simple thing, because people do have silly dreams sometimes, and it's not a crime. It's not a crime and has nothing to do with that fact that I have a whole dream world where I'm not with you in my head.

"How peculiar. You never struck me as the type to get upset over something like this."

"You never asked," you respond flatly and Chrollo's hand on your thigh moves an inch.

It brushes up, closer to where you really, really don't want it to be, so you squeeze his fingers hard and redirect them to the curve of your knee.

"True," he says after a pause, not sounding too bothered. A month ago you would've brushed his hand off completely, probably that's why. Chrollo is convinced that with enough patience and effort he'll be able to close that final barrier between you both. Time, coaxing, a dose or two of endearment, some carefully calculated touch - but you'd rather stick a knife through your ribs than have sex with him. Or his patience will simply run out and he'll rape you. You're not delusional. Not a fool. "Well, that can be fixed. I'll make sure to ask about your dreams more often, dear."

You lean back into the seat and stare ahead, this time without anything pleasant on your mind. Of course he will. Of course he'll take this as a sign to dig deeper and invade that small bit of solace, Chrollo can't simply co-exist. He wants it all.

"Mm," you say.

Your new vocabulary is such a handy thing.

#hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere #hunter x hunter fanfic #chrollo lucifer x reader #shalott fanfiction

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imaginesforeons · 5 months

Text

One Word (Yandere!Toji x Reader)

~All he wants is a name~

CW: Previous abusive relationships. Current abusive relationship. Yandere!Toji. Kidnapping. Implied NSFW(kinda).

Word Count: 950

Reqs are OPEN! At the top of my page you can see what fandoms I write for, so DM me with your ideas!

.-.-.

Your hand squeezed the doorknob so hard you swore you heard your knuckles crack. Trembling, you let your sweaty forehead rest against the bathroom door, closing your eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Toji crooned from the other side of the door. “All you have to do is give me a name. Just one word, then it’ll all be over.”

Even though he couldn’t see you, you shook your head. “No. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me.”

From the other side of the door you heard a thump. When Toji spoke again, his voice was louder. He was probably leaning against it. “Really? You’re trying to protect the guy that beat on you for three months?”

“Toji,” you said. You knew how much he loved it when you said his name. Maybe it would make him go easy on you, and you could escape today without any blood on your hands. “He’s not here. When I left him, he never even looked back. I bet he doesn’t even remember my name.”

You bit your tongue until you tasted the salty tang of blood as you waited for his response. On the other side of the door he was silent; you couldn’t even hear his breath, and you were surprised that he hadn’t forced his way in yet.

It was a courtesy, you knew. Ever since Toji brought you - kidnapped you - to his home in a secluded countryside, he had removed all the locks in the house, except for the front door and windows, the former of which he had the only key, while the latter he had bolted shut. The only reason he hadn’t pushed into the bathroom was out of some misplaced respect for you. Or maybe he was having fun.

He was probably having fun.

It seemed like you were destined to have one abusive relationship after another. Your first boyfriend was notorious for his gaslighting of you, and you had to deal with a year of feeling like you were crazy until you finally caught on. Your second boyfriend had seemed, at first, to be a little better. Until you found out you were the other woman, and he had a wife and two kids with a third on the way. Your third boyfriend had worked slower. While you had dated and broken up with the other two in a span of a year or less, this one had worked with a deadly patience.

Your honeymoon phase lasted two years before any dangerous signs decided to show themselves. At first, you excused it by saying he was stressed, an excuse which would damn you. He would come home angry, shout at you, pick at every little mistake you made, then leave again. But he’d make it better the next day, bringing you gifts, cleaning the house, and taking you out to picture perfect dates. Later, you would learn that this was called love bombing. You thought it would get better, but each day it only got worse, building to a deadly climax.

It got worse and worse until one night, you found yourself out on the street, fleeing from your boyfriend and nursing a broken wrist. That was how you met Toji. He took you to the hospital, and after you left your boyfriend, you couldn’t say anything but yes when he asked you out on a date. Your reprieve lasted only three weeks, until one day you woke up in a strange bed, in a strange house, and Toji explained that you’d never leave.

Four months later, and you were here, hiding in the bathroom from a man that could break the door down with one hand. He had demonstrated his inhuman strength dozens of times, and though he’d never laid a hand on you, every time you saw him crumple a doorknob in with a single squeez, or snap a crowbar in half like a twig, you were left shaking.

“Listen, babe,” Toji said. “You know I love your loyalty, but my patience will only last so long. You just have to give me a name, and I’ll do the rest.”

You felt your heart plummet.

“Please,” you whispered. “Please, Toji, I don’t want anyone else to die because of me.”

Toji snorted. “Why? Don’t tell me you still love him. A guy like that doesn’t deserve anything from you.”

You wondered if he could hear how ironic that statement was, coming from him.

“No!,” you cried swiftly. “I just don’t want to be reminded of him again, that’s all. Toji, I never loved him-” a lie “-I’ve only ever cared for you!” Another lie, but maybe this one would make him give up.

There was silence from the other side of the door, lasting long enough that you felt hope start to bloom in your chest. Then you heard a familiar sound that made your eyes sting anew, a sound like the crumpling of a soda can. Toji had just crushed the bathroom’s door handle.

It was useless, but you still pushed back as he forced the door open. You still fought when he swept you into his arms. You snarled and cursed when he threw you onto the bed, because while Toji might be dangerous, he had never turned his anger towards you. You turned your head away when he tried to kiss you, but he only took your face in one calloused hand, holding it steady so he could place a quick kiss on your lips.

“I thought you already learned that what I want, I get,” Toji murmured. “By morning, I’ll be leaving with a name, no matter what.”

#jjk imagines #imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jujustu kaisen x reader #yandere #yandere toji #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen

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bad268 · 17 days

Note

a kimi story where the reader is ollie’s sister and they’re a secret and ollie finds out please

Impromptu Meeting (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Bearman! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (AHHH I LOVE THIS)

Warnings: Making out, brief sex joke (if you squint)

POV: Second Person (You/your/They/them)

W.C. 1253

Summary: Maybe sharing a room wasn't a good idea...

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

It was not how you imagined introducing your boyfriend to your family, let alone your brother.

You were supposed to be there to support Ollie (which you were!), and it wasn’t like you were sneaking off to another garage or wearing another team’s kit. Thankfully, Kimi had signed to Prema at the beginning of the season, so that was not something you needed to worry about.

When you first met Kimi through a mutual friend, he did not know your brother. Granted, you only introduced yourself by your first name, but drivers stuck with drivers. You assumed he knew that you were associated with one of the drivers. It wasn’t until the middle of the Formula 2 season that Kimi finally made the connection.

You had stayed up the entire night before, catching up on assignments you had been putting off in order to spend more time with Kimi. You had traveled to the track a few days early to meet with him, and you told your family it was for a school trip. You would meet them at the track by Thursday.

It was currently Wednesday, and you were cuddling with Kimi in your hotel room. You may or may not be struggling to stay awake, but that was not really a problem since Kimi had done all of the promotional things he needed to do that morning. Plus, the whole team, namely one of their drivers, was not there yet, so they did not want to get too far ahead without the rest of the team.

You were watching some random lifetime movie on the television as you laid on Kimi’s chest. He may have been reading race strategies, but you were not going to force him to pay attention to the movie when you weren't paying attention anyway. You were more captivated with listening to his heartbeat and watching his concentration focus on the piece of paper. At one point, you moved up a little to lay your head on his shoulder, so you could look at the paper too. Despite growing up surrounded by racing, you still could not understand most of the strategies for the life of you.

“Y’know,” You broke the silence as you shifted your attention to his face. He looked down at you, his concentration being broken as soon as you moved, but he did not say anything. “I really wish I understood any of that jargon. Sometimes I wish I could read it and think ‘Ah, yes! This will be a one-stop race and we’ll pit for mediums.’ I really do sometimes.”

“I thought you just liked the sport,” Kimi laughed as he set the papers to the side. “You really don’t care about the behind the scenes or the strategies. You like cars going fast, and you like the people in the cars.”

“Sometimes, I really wish you didn’t know me as well as you do,” You giggled as you leaned up to peck his lips. He reciprocated immediately, pulling you onto his lap as he wrapped his arms around your back to hold you to him. Your lips moved in sync for who-knows how long, and you were only broken apart by the sound of bags being dropped on the floor. That’s when you finally pulled apart, thinking it was Kimi’s dad or Anthoine, but no. It was Ollie with his jaw on the floor and his hand over his eyes. You moved away from Kimi and approached Ollie, but it’s not like he could see you. You approached him cautiously, reaching out your hand, “Ollie, I can explain.”

To say Kimi was confused would be an understatement. He knew Ollie was going to come today, but why would you need to explain to Ollie? The Prema boys almost always shared a hotel room. He had walked in on Ollie with a few people, so why was he reacting this way when the tables were turned?

“I don’t need to see this!” Ollie complained as he turned around and walked back into the hallway.

“Ollie, wait,” You followed after him, causing Kimi to also climb out of the bed, wanting to get to the bottom of this. He grabbed a keycard just in case as he followed you both toward the stairwell and out to the back of the hotel. “Ollie, please. Give me a chance to explain.”

“You and my teammate? Really?” Ollie sighed, turning around to face you. It did not sound like a disappointed sigh, just a confused one. You could work with that. “Why my teammate? Also, I thought you had a boyfriend!”

“I do! It’s Kimi,” You explained as you moved to stand in front of Ollie. “It’s been Kimi this whole time. We’ve been seeing each other since Paul and I went to the FRECA race at Mugello last year but became official after Hockenheim.”

“All this time I thought you liked Paul,” Ollie commented to himself, but it caused you to laugh. “What?”

“I’ve been around Paul for too long,” You laughed, finally letting out a breath you had been holding. “He’s like a brother too much.”

“Hey! You already have a brother! Don’t go replacing me already!” Ollie protested, and that caught Kimi’s attention. He had been hiding by the stairs, watching you two converse in the parking lot, but at that point, he could not hold back his shock.

“Brother?” He said out loud on accident, causing both of you to look at him. He never realized how similar you looked until that moment. Not identical, but now that you both stood side-by-side, looking at him, it was fairly obvious that you were siblings. “You’re related.”

“Maybe,” You chuckled at the look on his face. Just as much, maybe more, shock than when Ollie saw you and Kimi.

“Yeah, that’s my younger sibling,” Ollie said as he pointed at you before brushing past you to walk up to Kimi. “I get that you’re my teammate, but if you screw this up, I will push you off the track.”

“You’re not gonna forbid me from dating your sibling?” Kimi was confused, but he would accept it with open arms if it meant he got to stay with you.

“No,” Ollie sighed with a smile. “I’ve heard enough about how well you treat them, so I’m not concerned. Don’t make me concerned, Andrea.”

“I’ll try my best,” Kimi replied back with a smile as Ollie pulled him into a hug. Having your older brother’s approval was something you always wanted, so you smiled as well.

“Oh, one more thing,” Ollie started as he turned to look at you, still standing in the spot you were at previously. You slowly walked over to join the two. Ollie turned from smiley to downright serious in the blink of an eye; it almost scared you. “I don’t wanna walk in on you making out ever again.”

“Then, the same rule goes to you,” Kimi joked back, causing you to gape at Ollie.

“You’re making out with people? Ew.” You jokingly pushed away from Ollie, wiping your hands on your shirt.

“You did the same thing! Don’t even try to flip this on me!” Ollie tried to defend

“I have a feeling we should not be sharing a room anymore,” Kimi trailed off to himself as he slowly started moving towards the stairwell again.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Andrea?” Ollie accused as Kimi took off up the stairs. “No! Get back here! We’re not done with this conversation!”

~~~~~

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perpetuallydaydreaming · 1 year

Text

i cant focus because i cant keep you out of my head.

5 times james potter got distracted because of you.

warnings: overly dramatic james || 3.3k words || james potter x you || fluff fluff fluff, getting together, friends to lovers

a/n: this is the first work i’ve posted on this fandom, i have alot planned!! so please dont be shy and drop some messages! i also feel like i have to clarify, any dialogues that’s italicized means james isn’t listening

i. missing his games

“and another bludger hits potter on the shoulder! it is not his night folks! will this be an opportunity for hufflepuffs to get ahead?” the speaker hisses, loudly echoing throughout the field. along with the empathetic oohs of the crowd.

james groans rubbing his shoulder quickly, for what seemed like the nth time tonight, before going into the scoring formation as practiced.

usually, he wouldn’t even hear the commentator during the game, he would be too into the game to notice any other noise other than his own breathing . but tonight’s game is different.

tonight, you weren’t there watching him.

he knows this for a fact, as he had been continuously looking in the stands. his focus foregoing the incoming buldgers, instead hoping to catch a glimpse of your messy hair and the abundant layer of clothes, you always wear to combat the cold in the stands. his eyes would quickly scan through the students, in hopes to spot you cheering and grinning as you have always had.

he had circled the area you usual vacant four times now, and still no sign of you anywhere.

he could hear geoffrey shouting at him to focus, zooming past him with the quaffle at hand. he could practically hear the hissing complaints and grumbles of minnie in the stands but when he fails to see you, he’s not inclined to care at all.

“james! what in the bloody hell are you doing?!” he could hear marlene shriek in frustration as he skidded to a stop, and pondered your whereabouts.

where were you?

you had always watched his games. always. even when you two were fighting or not talking to each other, you would always be there cheering him on.

he was sure you weren’t in detention, professors were usually more lenient during quidditch season. not to mention you don’t really get into much mischief as he, himself does.

“mckinnon scores even with a distracted captain!”

merlin, were you sick? is that why you were a no-show? he had heard you sniffling the other day, but you said you were fine. james knew that you rarely ever get sick, but when you do—it was the worst it could ever be.

knowing you, you had probably reassured your friends that you were fine and to leave you be. you never did know how to take care of yourself. so, james being the self-appointed best friend takes this responsibility of nursing you back to health very seriously.

he was about to go fly over your dormitory window and help you but then a heavy speeding bludger came speeding into his way. he had barely dodged the thing and suddenly all the noises of the game came rushing back into his ears.

right, he thinks. he should probably finish this first and then go see you straight after.

ii. passing notes with a person that isn’t him

james was having a particularly pissy day.

when he had the epiphany on why you had missed his game. james had rushed points after points, in hopes to end the game as quickly as possible. the game ending with gryffindor as the winner, by 120 points.

never mind celebrating, he hadn’t even thought of the fact he had broken an all-time scoring record in a single game and came rushing to your dorms. thoughts of you lying sick in bed, swimming in his mind.

but you weren’t lying sick in bed.

in fact, you weren’t in the dorms at all. or the common room. or the library. or the hospital wing. or even in the entire bloody castle (he checked). not only were you not in breakfast, the morning after the game you didn’t watch. now, he has the pleasure of seeing you blush and fuss, passing notes with a bloke from ravenclaw during potions.

“now this is detrimental to the potion, some have lost fingers when they neglected this step so pay attention—“

when did you even meet this guy? you were always hanging out with james. so it’s rare for him to see you with somebody he hasn’t met before.

especially, someone this ugly.

“who’s the arse talking to y/n.” james whispered harshly to sirius.

sirius, who for once, was listening in class had to stop and look at james with a confused look, from the sudden conversation.

james gave no clarification, his eyes still glaring heavily at the offending sight.

ah, sirius thought. an almost laugh leaving his mouth. “that’s charlie wilson, i reckon.” sirius whispered back. fighting the strong urge to grin as he added, “birds quite fancy him, i heard. something about how dreamy the lad is or something.” twirling his quill. already satisfied with the impending chaos he had stirred.

meanwhile james could hardly sit still, seconds away from erupting. he scoffs when he sees you blush.

pale hair, pale eyes and an even paler skin. he looked like a white bedsheet, is what he is! nothing dreamy about a bedsheet! james certainly hadn’t thought his bedsheets dreamy. surely you hadn’t either!

“failure to follow these steps strictly can be harmful.” slughorn droned on.

but it was nothing but a buzzing noise to james, as he feels the sudden urge to grab the silly paper full of your beautiful handwriting and his chicken scrawls and rip it to shreds.

iii. going to hogsmeade without him

james was forced into the trip to hogsmeade by remus. claiming some rubbish about how james has become a shell of a man, or how he dampens the mood. and some borderline blasphemous statement about how snivellus seems to be better company than him lately.

so to prove all the nay-sayers wrong, here he was trudging along the stoned pathway. looking gloomy as ever, as his friends drag him from store to store.

nothing seemed to be cheering him up, remus had thought. but james have always had the flare for the dramatics, so remus wasn’t too worried. instead continued on like his friend isn’t unraveling like the threads in an old sweatshirt.

“why am i even here?” james had groaned, eliciting an amused smirk from sirius and a wry smile from remus.

he was on the verge of insanity, really he was. when he sees it in his peripheral. the unquestionably familiar layers of clothing and your giddy smile as you went into a bookstore with the same gremlin from class.

stopping abruptly, garnering the attention of his friends and walked briskly to the store. offering no sort of explanation, but his mates followed anyway. having seen you enter too. busybodies as they are, they’re curious how this will play out.

“it’s the same lad,” hummed sirius, peeking through the door.

remus raised a brow, interest piqued. “same lad? what’d you mean?”

“wilson was having a quick bants with our dear y/n the other day.”

“really now,”

sirius wolfishly grinned, “you reckon y/n fancies him?”

james scoffed, sounding very closely to a growl. “as if.”

“now, james, no need to be narky.” remus teased.

all three hiding two shelves away from you. james couldn’t hear you but he could see you through the crack of the books, if he crouched down. he saw your mouth moving and smiling. a view, he realized he hadn’t seen in a while.

“now that i think about, y/n hasn’t been around lately, has she?” remus had voiced, his tone feigning an air of innocence and ignorance.

sirius, then followed suit, rubbing his chin looking forlorn. “now that you mention it moony, that sounds about right.”

“prongs,” they called out, hoping to see james puff out, red in the face and stomp away like a petulant child. but instead their teasing was met with silence.

he couldn’t believe this! you haven’t spoken a word to him all week and here you were cozying up to a practical stranger! yous had the audacity to even laugh at whatever pathetic excuse of a joke he just said to you. albeit, he hadn’t heard the joke but he sure it was trash either way.

“think we lost him padfoot.” remus snickered at the glowering and helpless look james had etched on his face.

the two of you walking to the counter, holding piles of parchments and paints and laughing and blushing and standing way too close to each other.

really, have you no shame?

iv. biting your lips

james had a mission. to finally talk to you after two weeks of radio silence. to corner you, no matter what, and demand explanation for your recent rendezvous and the lack of his presence with said rendezvous.

but you were making it hard for him to find you, let alone talk to you. he can’t seem to find you in the map anywhere either. lately not finding you and not talking has becoming an unwelcome norm for him.

classes you two shared was almost non-existent since all of the classes you attended were all advanced classes.

he had hoped that during potions would be the time to talk to you but before he could even say hello to you, chalk had taken your attention and quickly pulled him down to sit with you during class.

you always seemed to be whispering about something whenever he sees you two. heads close to one another and soft laughter always leaving your lips. it’s like you didn’t even notice you haven’t talked to him for weeks now.

“oh there you are james! i wanted to discuss some strategy for the finals against slytherins.” john bell going into spiel of his tactics for the game.

did he do something that put you off? i mean, yeah, you two were only friends but he was hoping that he was starting to be more than that to you. at least, the same way that you became more for him too.

or was it just him?

“i heard evermonde complaining during breakfast that regulus black had to sit out of the game because he’s sick. so they replaced their seeker with a total novice!” bell excitedly recounted the information, unaware that their captain couldn’t be bother to listen at all.

if you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, then you should’ve said so in the first place. instead of making him look like a fool!

and like some sort of miracle there you were at the end of the hall, alone.

breathing in deep and gathering all the courage of gryffindors and marched over to you with purpose and bouts of confidence blazing in his eyes.

“james, mate!” bell called over to james, his voice like water off of a dolphin’s back.

he was a bout to tell you off, maybe along the lines of how could you? or why did you miss my games? you always watch my games. or am i even your friend anymore? do like hanging with that cauliflower more than me? does he even play quidditch? can he even turn into a stag? is he even that funny. i bet i’m funnier.

“y/n!” he beckoned, jogging over to you in a hurry. you turned, books held tightly to your chest.

“james,”

once he was in front of you, breathing in deep. staring into your eyes and seeing your soft pillowy cheeks and soft smiles.

“how are you?” you breathed, shifting from one foot to the other.

he inhaled, how are you? after weeks of nothing—! he was about to tell you off real good but he forgot a crucial thing.

the slight tension and silence makes you nervous, so rather blabbing about nonsense to fill the silence, you opt to bite your lips and cheeks instead.

suddenly all thoughts seem to fly away from james. your nervous habit becoming more important to him rather than letting you how he feels. it seemed more interesting to him than anything he had ever seen before.

which was crazy, because this wasn’t the first time you did this! or is it because you haven’t been around lately that made his immunity to your distracting quirk lessened?

eventually the silence became way too unbearable, not to mention the staring from james getting too intense. you just had to get out of this really weird and quiet interaction.

“well, james, i have to go now.” you gave a polite and shaky smile, “see you ‘round.”

v. when you watch his games.

today was the last game of the season. everyone on the team was buzzing with nerves and excitement. john bell had made it his mission to let everyone know of what he learned about slytherin yesterday.

“ambrose greengrass is going to play seeker for the time being.”

sirius snorted out a laugh, “greengrass can barely get on his broom!”

“well talkalot was desperate for replacement so soon before the game.”

dawson rolled her eyes and smirked, “well, whoever they send out we’re still going to beat the crap of them!”

the team cheered in agreement.

sirius noticed the lack of quips from james, like he usually does before each games. he sighed, already knowing the root of it. if his mate’s wanly expression had anything to say about it.

going up to his broom at hand and grabbing james’ shoulder, shaking him rather roughly. as if to physically wake him up out of stupor.

“mate, this is your first finals as captain, what the hell are you doing moping like some grandma?”

james looked up and saw the entire team looking at him. breathing in deep. “you’re right, pads.” grabbing his broom and bellowing in his loudest voice, “let’s win this!”

as much as it pains james, he had to forgot about you for a moment and focus on the game. his teammates are counting on him. chanting in his mind that it wouldn’t matter if you were out there or not.

although a very tiny voice, had called out this lie.

it had already been 30 minutes in the game when you had finally arrived. a fragile thing held gently in your hands.

“john bell knocked out euane evermonde with a bludger!” you can hear the announcer scream, a disbelieving laughter echoing. “30 minutes into the game, it’s a blood bath out here folks!”

the crowds surrounding you in the stand were going wild with screams. the players zooming back and forth as they exchanged the quaffle. you looked up and saw james in the air, the wind tousling his already messy hair into knots. he was shouting orders to his team. eyes busy chasing players, all the while dodging bludgers too.

when he flew close enough to your area in the stands, you can see him subtly check out the crowd. your face warming against the cold at the thought of what you are about to do. his eyes quickly meeting yours and then physically stopping his slow glide in the air. as if he couldn’t believe you were there.

biting your cheek and slowly raising the large parchment, the written words charmed to glow and change every few seconds the words: i like you james potter! and go and win this!!! showing up interchangeably.

you watch him look at you dumbfounded until a dazzling grin erupted on his face once he read the words.

you see him spread his arms, and point at himself abashed, as if saying, me? you like me?

and you nodding exaggeratedly.

feeling the flurry of butterflies in your stomach watching him whoop and laugh twisting and looping on his broom. as if re-energized. you laugh too, his mirth too infectious. the others in the stand with you looks at the parchment in wonder and cheer along with you.

you can hear geoffrey shout profanities at james seeing him steady in the air not moving away form your sight, “not this again potter!”

it had taken you two weeks to finish this little project, the idea coming from a muggleborn friend that said they used to do posters when they watch games like these. that’s when you decided to do the same for james.

at first it was only supposed to be a simple parchment with words to cheer james on, for his first game as captain, against the hufflepuffs. but you decided to make it even more special and unforgettable.

granted, you weren’t all that creative in terms of crafts, so you enlisted a ravenclaw to help you put it all together. as much as you didn’t want to, you had to forgo watching the game so you can have some moment alone to get the poster started.

you were confident enough to know that the gryffindors will win and go straight to the finals. with hundreds of students coming to watch the game, you knew james wouldn’t notice your absence.

so the entire week you had committed your time into creating your first poster. trying desperately to hide your activities from james to surprise him. and when you had ran out of materials, you had gone to hogsmeade with charlie to guide you on what you should buy.

you knew james had caught on your weird behaviours. you were sure simple words from him and little pleas would get you to spill the beans but thankfully he had been distracted enough by something else that opened a way for you to leave.

now, here you were clutching the paper like a lifeline, the words you had written with so much care glowing through the fog. you had even drawn james on his broomstick along with his wild hair and glasses askew on his face. although charlie had helped draw it much nicer and life-like. each line moving and dancing across the paper to capture his attention.

with a new sense of motivation, james started to play the game the best he had ever played. zooming right above your area in the stand with a quaffle in his hand and a wink your way, he easily maneuvers over the other players and score.

with the slytherin keeper gone he had easily gathered up score after score.

and each time he did, he would stop a couple of feet in front of you and do a victory dance of some sort, eliciting a giggle and wide giddy smiles from you.

the crowd going crazier and crazier as james seemed like an unstoppable force in the field. eventually the brutal game ended with gryffindor as the winner by 530 points. breaking an all-time record.

gryffindors with some ravenclaws and hufflepuffs scatter to the field to celebrate the win. grabbing unto james, patting him on the shoulder, messing up his hair even more and cheering his name.

even with everyone around him, he managed to lock eyes with you again. quickly pushing other off him and running to you, a smile etched on his face.

you barely had anytime to prepare yourself as a sweaty, large, giddy man hurdled towards you. but james ever so gentle with you, grabbed your waist and lifted you up from the ground, twirling you around, looking at you with absolute glee. you can hear wolf whistles from the others but james barely acknowledges them.

he sets you down, hands still firmly on your side. the parchment now folded haphazardly, clutching it to your chest. wrinkling his nose in a low chuckle before looking down at the paper. “is this why you’ve yet to speak a word with me?”

you breathed, suddenly embarrassed. “i’ve been perfecting this for two weeks.” looking down on the paper leaning into him just a tad bit more, “i ran into some trouble with making the text stay on the parchment rather than fly away.” you muttered, cheeks aflame.

looking up at him through your lashes, having half a nerve to look bashful. “did you like it?”

“like it?” he scoffed, “i bloody loved it,” he grinned, forehead now leaning into yours.

you grin up at him, unaware of the still swirling questions he had for you. but for now holding each other like this, is enough answer for him.

3K notes · View notes

geminiwritten · 1 year

Text

i’m yours ; billy butcher

fandom: the boys

pairing: billy x reader

summary: you find out that butcher slept with maeve, and attempt to ignore your feelings by going m.i.a. and going home with a complete stranger, only to awake the green-eyed monster living inside of butcher

preface: this isn’t set in canon timeline, it’s basically just using the bit where butcher sleeps with maeve as a bit of a jealousy catalyst

notes: this man has a hold on me... and i feel like this got a little rushed at the end but i still kind of like it, please let me know what y’all think! (also, i’m sorry all my stuff has the same formula, i promise i’m trying to mix it up!)

warnings: a lot of swearing, the ‘sewer-slide’ word, google-translated french, sexual content, and some soft smut

word count: 5315

Things are good, too good, but you’re doing your best not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Hughie and Annie are happy, MM is content, and Frenchie is excitedly creating new methods of blowing up Supes almost daily. Butcher is… well, Butcher. He’s grumpy and brash, but seems to be feeling a little more positive lately, focusing more on recon and intel rather than running in with guns blazing.

For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, you had managed to go grocery shopping without anyone stumbling home bloody and bruised. Frenchie is humming along to the song that had been playing on the radio, carrying most of the plastic bags while MM carries one with you on his back. You were all in such high spirits that he had let you jump on his back at the bottom of the apartment stairs, carrying you up four flights as if you weighed no more than a hiking backpack.

Frenchie chuckles at the two of you as he unlocks the apartment door, entering first and pushing it open all the way. You have to duck a little, giggling and holding on to MM for dear life as he starts jogging toward the couch. He drops the bag on the floor before falling into the sofa, and you squeal as he squashes you.

“Hey,” you exclaim, still laughing, “what the fuck? Steeds don’t sit on their riders!”

“You want to ride me next, petit ange?” Frenchie calls from the kitchen.

You writhe until MM moves, standing up with a satisfied grin across his lips. You flip him your middle finger as he turns away, ushering Frenchie out of the kitchen so he can put the groceries away. You find the TV remote buried in the couch cushions, and just as the old screen flickers to life, Kimiko emerges from the hallway. She looks at Frenchie with a small smile, signing hello before her nose crinkles, and she signs another sentence you struggle to catch as your attention is called toward the master bedroom doors.

Frenchie frowns curiously, “She says that it smells in here.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you lot are stinkin’ up my fuckin’ apartment,” Butcher says, running a hand through his hair.

He looks like shit. His shirt is wrinkled and the buttons are fastened crookedly, his hair is standing up in all directions, and the circles beneath his eyes are several shades darker than usual.

“It is our apartment, Butcher,” Frenchie states, “it is the least you can after making me blow up my last two places, eh?”

Butcher rolls his eyes before dropping into one of the dining room chairs, holding his face in his hands as he takes several deep breaths.

Frenchie looks to Kimiko again before translating, “She says it smells like alcohol and sweat, and a perfume that she has not smelt before.”

“I don’t wear perfume,” you note, “every time we have to haul ass and run, the bottles end up broken or missing, so I gave up.”

MM raises his hands in defence, “Don’t look at me, I haven’t seen anyone but you lot in the past twelve hours.”

“Perhaps it is something we picked up at the shops,” Frenchie shrugs.

Kimiko signs again, and you watch her to listen.

“You can smell a stranger?” you ask with a frown.

“To reiterate,” MM says, “I stayed at a motel alone last night, I was too tired to drive all the way here after visiting Janine.”

“I stayed with Annie,” you point out, “is that who you can smell?”

Kimiko shakes her head, and your heart begins to race anxiously. Neither she nor Frenchie stayed here last night either, opting for one of his old hideouts after scouring the city for any possible missed traces that Vought could use to find you all.

MM turns to Butcher, “Was there someone here last night?”

“Why would you not tell us that there was a break in?” Frenchie demands, his face a mixture of irritation and concern.

Butcher sighs, “There wasn’t a fuckin’ break in, calm down.”

Kimiko pads quietly around the room, subtly sniffing the air around MM and then Frenchie before moving toward you. She inhales above your head and grimaces, before moving to the side and taking a deep breath over the couch.

You shoot up from your seat and stumble toward the kitchen, “Me or the couch?”

She points at the sofa.

“Butcher,” MM says, his voice demanding, “explain before I slap your hungover ass.”

Its only then that you notice the two empty bottles of whiskey, one on the coffee table and one laying on the floor. You back up slowly toward the kitchen, a fresh wave of panic washing over you.

“Someone stopped by,” Butcher mutters into his hands, “that’s all.”

You reach the kitchen bench at the same time Kimiko does, still sniffing like a police dog, and her face twists into a disgusted frown. You startle again, jumping back from the bench as if it had burnt you.

“Care to elaborate?” MM presses.

Butcher sighs, and you can feel a lump growing in your throat.

“We all sleep here too, Butcher,” Frenchie states, “and we deserve to know if it is still safe to do so.”

“‘Course it’s fuckin’ safe,” Butcher says, finally turning his head to face the room. “Maeve came by, alrigh’? Just her, ‘n’ she had some information, so we had a chat and a drink. Is that alrigh’ with you nosey bastards?”

A weight drops in your stomach, anchoring you to the floor as moisture begins to blur your vision.

Kimiko stops sniffing when she reaches Butcher, cringing and stumbling several paces back until she is beside Frenchie.

“You slept with a Supe?” MM gasps.

Butcher huffs and pushes himself up from the chair, “No fuckin’ privacy with you lot, is there?”

MM raises his hands again, “Hey, I’m not judging, just shocked.”

Frenchie’s concern melts into taunting smirk, “No need to be defensive, Monsieur Charcutier, we all have our needs, and I am surprised that you managed to woo such a beautiful woman.”

“Fuck off, Frenchie,” Butcher sighs, dragging his feet toward the fridge.

Their voices blur into white noise as you focus on the slow inhale and exhale of your breath. You wriggle your toes in your boots, forcing yourself to feel your physical body instead of the whirlwind of emotions swirling through your head. It feels like your skull is fracturing with the effort that it takes to contain the storm, but you refuse to let your feelings win. You find a bottle and push them inside, jamming the cork in just as Frenchie snaps his fingers in front of your nose.

You blink, “What?”

“Are you okay?” he asks, a soft crease between his brows.

“Yeah, sorry,” you blink again to quell your watery eyes, “what’s up?”

“Are you hungry?”

You glance over his shoulder at Butcher, his head in the fridge as he ignores MM’s demands to get out of the way.

“Not really,” you reply, “I was actually thinking about going back over to Annie’s, I think I forgot my… my socks.”

The concern between Frenchie’s brows deepens, “You forgot your socks?”

You nod, “My favourite socks.”

“Didn’t know you had favourite socks,” Butcher mumbles as he steps out of the kitchen.

“You don’t know a lot of things,” you state, plastering on a smile that you know doesn’t reach your eyes.

You can feel their curious gazes on you as you turn, retrieving your wallet and keys from the couch before striding out of the apartment door without a second glance. You pull your phone out of your pocket and text Annie to let her know that you’re on your way before switching it to ‘do not disturb’ and zipping it inside your jacket pocket, determined to forget about it until you’ve got a handle on your emotions.

The sun is setting by the time you reach the familiar street on which Hughie and Annie’s apartment is located, and you’re rather proud of the fact that you managed to focus on nothing but your steady steps the whole way here. You look up at the brick building on your left, but instead of turning toward the front steps, your feet carrying you across the street toward the park, not stopping until you’re standing in front of an empty bench.

“Something wrong with that one?” a voice asks, and you startle toward the source of it.

A young man is standing beside you, clad in running shorts and a tight exercise jacket. He doesn’t look menacing, but your whole body tenses as your fight or flight instincts battle for dominance.

“I’m sorry?”

He chuckles, “The bench, I mean. You’re frowning at it as if it’s diseased or something.”

“Oh,” you look back at the moss-ridden seat, “no, I just- I don’t know.”

“Are you alright?”

He buries his hands in the pockets of his jacket, and you let yourself relax, deciding that he isn’t a threat, just an overly friendly stranger.

“I’m fine, sorry,” you sigh, “just had a weird day.”

“That’s nothing to apologise for,” he says, sitting on the bench and looking up at you. “I know the feeling.”

You sit beside him, watching his side profile and slowly realising how attractive he is. His hair is cropped short, shorter than you usually liked, but his eyes are a stunning green and the faint shadow of stubble across his jaw is definitely something you can appreciate.

“Do you often approach strangers in the park?” you ask.

He laughs again, his eyes sparkling under the orange sky, “No, not really, especially not strangers as gorgeous as you.”

You blush at the ground, deciding to focus on your fraying shoelaces rather than the handsome stranger.

“But I figured,” he goes on, “that if I didn’t ask this pretty girl if she was okay, I might not be able to stop thinking about her for the rest of my life.”

You actually giggle, immediately cursing yourself for being so easy, “That’s a long time.”

“I know, right? I didn’t fancy the risk, and hey,” he smiles at you, “looks like it might have been worth it.”

“Maybe,” you smile back, “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Nate.”

You’re not sure if you’re an idiot or if you’ve just given up on your own personal safety, but you sit and talk to Nate until the sun is well below the horizon. You learn that he’s a journalist and a dog person, and lately he’s been more afraid of Supes than comforted by their presence. You tell him you’re a freelancer, because it isn’t technically a lie, and that you’re in between gigs at the moment but questioning whether you’re really doing what you want to be doing. Also, not a lie.

“I know that this is probably very forward,” he says, his knee bouncing nervously, “but did you want to come back to my place for a drink? I would suggest a bar, but I’m not really dressed for it, and I just get this feeling that as soon as we say goodbye, you’re going to disappear forever.”

You frown, “You’re a real long-term guy, aren’t you?”

His cheeks flush pink, “I don’t have to be.”

As you walk alongside the man you met mere hours ago, you come to the conclusion that you must be suicidal. In the current state that the world is in, who in their right mind goes home with a complete stranger? You, apparently.

His apartment isn’t far from the park, which is a little comforting, knowing that you will have a speedy escape to Annie’s place if this guy does end up being a psycho serial killer. The buildings all look the same as you approach a row of tall brick blocks, climbing the few concrete steps up to the lobby doors before scaling three flights to reach his apartment door.

It’s surprisingly well decorated inside, and you can eye a few expensive items that make you wonder if he really is a struggling journalist, or perhaps a shady underground arts dealer. You take a seat at the kitchen bench as he babbles about how crappy his landlord is and how much money he’s had to spend on the place to make it liveable. The glass of wine he places in front of you is gone within two gulps, and he happily pours you another.

“I feel like I probably should have asked this a few hours ago,” he says with a sheepish smile, “but you aren’t with anyone, are you? Engaged or married, or anything like that.”

You choke on your mouthful of cheap wine, coughing the burn away while he hurries to get you a glass of water.

“No,” you finally reply, “I’m not, at all.”

“Good,” he replies, his earnest grin returning, “I mean, it’s surprising because you’re incredible, but I’m glad.”

You offer him a smile that you hope appears coy and not at all forced before drinking down the rest of your second glass of wine. He moves into the lounge room, and you take the opportunity to pour yourself another generous glass, quickly swallowing the two mouthfuls left in the bottle while his back is still turned. You gingerly place the empty bottle in the sink before following him, dropping onto the soft leather couch as he turns on the television.

A news broadcast lights up the screen, and fiery images of a truck collision flash behind the breaking news banner that reads: ‘QUEEN MAEVE SAVES THE DAY’. Your stomach twists into a knot as the bottle of emotions you had managed to almost forget about begins to break, the glass fracturing and threatening to send you into a full-blown mental breakdown.

“Damn,” Nate sighs, “I know the Supes are pretty sketchy these days, but Queen Maeve is just gorgeous.”

With one last burning gulp of wine, you turn to the man beside you and take his head between your hands, crushing your lips against his. He gasps, but responds quickly, his hands finding your hips and guiding you onto his lap.

The rest of the night is a blur as you attempt to give all of your attention to this stranger that you barely know instead of confronting the green-eyed monster roaring in your belly. He finishes once on the couch, pretty quickly, but you’re not one to judge, before you drag him into the bedroom and away from the incessant news broadcasts of Queen Maeve’s heroic act.

It isn’t your alarm that wakes you, or the sound of Frenchie and MM arguing about how to cook eggs, but rather the unfamiliar scent that douses your breath. Your body trembles with anxiety and your eyes snap open, darting around the strange room as your thoughts scramble to remember how you got here.

“Fuck,” you sigh at the sound of someone snoring beside you.

You gently roll over and slip out of the sheets, cold air immediately nipping at your naked body. You find the nearest item of clothing and slip it over your head before tiptoeing out of the bedroom and into the lounge room. Nerves and hunger mingle inside of your stomach, making you overwhelmingly nauseous by the time you find your jacket thrown over the back of the couch.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mutter as you retrieve your phone from the pocket.

Dozens of missed calls and text messages fill your lock screen, several from Annie and Frenchie, a couple from Hughie and MM, but the majority of them listed under Butcher’s contact name, ‘Big Willy’. You thought it was funny a few days ago.

You quickly text Annie that you’re okay, you’re incredibly sorry, and that you’ll fill her in as soon as you see her. You find your jeans and wriggle into them before finding your panties and tucking them into your back pocket. You scoop your bra and your shirt off the floor on your way to the kitchen, and check your phone again for a reply from Annie. Nothing yet.

You drink the glass of untouched water from the kitchen bench before splashing your face and trying to calm the vibration of nerves coursing through your body.

“Hey.”

You startle at the sudden voice, turning to find Nate in nothing but sweatpants as he emerges from the bedroom.

“Hey,” you murmur.

He frowns, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I-I’m fine, just- uh, my friends have been calling me,” you gesture to your phone, “and they’re pretty worried.”

“Oh,” he lets out a long breath, “I didn’t even hear it ringing last night.”

You smile weakly, not bothering to explain that you were intentionally avoiding your phone all afternoon.

He steps forward, “So, did you-”

The apartment door bursts open, splinters of wood scattering across the floor as you squeal and Nate jumps away from the blow. Your heart is racing, but your body reacts as it was trained to do, and you dive for a knife from the block beside the stove before freezing as you recognise the figure stalking through the broken door.

“Butcher,” you say, “what the fuck?”

His head snaps toward you, the crease between his brows softening and his eyes looking almost vulnerable as realises that it’s you.

“I’m sorry, but who the fuck are you and why did you just break my door?” Nate speaks up.

Your stomach sinks as Butcher’s attention is turned toward the shirtless man, murderous intent returning to his face.

“Who the fuck am I?” he spits, “Who the fuck are you?”

Nate looks tiny compared to Butcher, his narrow frame absolutely dwarfed by Butcher’s broad height and intimidating stance.

“I-I’m Nate,” the smaller man says, “and this is my apartment, that’s my door that you just destroyed.”

“Yeah?” Butcher taunts, stalking forward, “An’ what’re you gon’a do ‘bout it?”

Nate looks at you, his eyes frantic and begging for help.

“Butcher, calm down, he’s-”

“Calm down?” he whirls toward you, “You want me to fuckin’ calm down?!”

“Hey, man,” Nate says, “we can talk, you don’t have to-”

“Nate,” you put your hand up, “I’m sorry, but please shut up.”

“Nate,” Butcher repeats mockingly, “if you value your life, I’d listen to ‘er.”

You drop the knife on the bench, “Butcher, can we just leave, please?”

“You don’t get to make any requests right now, sweethear’,” he says, taking a heavy step toward you, “not after the shit you put me through for the past twelve fuckin’ hours.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawls sarcastically, “maybe ‘bout the fact that you fuckin’ disappeared! You didn’t answer your damn phone, didn’t tell anyone where you fuckin’ were! I got a call from Hughie askin’ if you were back home, ‘cause you texted Annie ‘n’ told her you were comin’, but didn’t fuckin’ show up!”

A pebble of guilt drops into your stomach, but you ignore it, squaring up to him with a scowl.

“So?” you shrug, “I’m an adult, I can do as I fucking please.”

“Not without tellin’ me!” he exclaims, “Not if I don’t know where you fuckin’ are or if you’re even fuckin’ alive!”

“You’re not my fucking father, Butcher!” you shout back, feeling another fissure in the bottle of emotions. “I don’t belong to you, I don’t have to ask you for permission to live my own fucking life!”

His jaw twitches, a tidal wave of emotion crashing through his eyes all too quickly for you to try and discern any of them.

“A-Are you Y/N’s boyfriend?” Nate asks timidly.

You and Butcher turn to him in unison, exclaiming at the same time, “No!”

A beat of silence passes, and Butcher’s glare doesn’t falter. You take a deep breath to try and sooth the storm of frustration threatening to consume you.

“Butcher,” you say softly, “can we please leave?”

His head snaps back toward you, his eyes scanning your body as they fill with realisation.

“Did you fuck her?” he asks, turning back to Nate.

He doesn’t respond, his mouth hanging open as he takes several steps back.

“You gon’a answer me?”

“Butcher,” you say again, “cut it out.”

He takes another menacing step toward Nate, “I asked you a question.”

“W-We slept together, yes,” Nate stammers.

The laugh that leaves Butcher’s lips is chilling, sounding almost mad.

“Oh, pardon my French,” he says, “perhaps I should’a asked if you made sweet fuckin’ love to this gorgeous woman right ‘ere.”

“For fuck’s sake!” you shout, “Stop it, stop whatever the fuck this is, and let’s just fucking go!”

“You’re tellin’ me that you fuckin’ disappeared so you could hide out with this fuckin’ twat?” Butcher exclaims, “You let me worry myself fuckin’ sick so you could get a lousy fuck?”

The bottle explodes, shards of glass cutting you from the inside and sending white hot waves of frustration and anger, and despair rolling through your body.

“I can fuck whoever I want, Butcher!” you scream, startled by the volume of your own voice.

His eyes narrow, but his lips don’t move.

“And you can fuck whoever the fuck you want,” you spit, “obviously.”

You snatch your phone off the bench and stomp toward the door, turning to Nate with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, about… this.”

You continue down the hall and the three flights of stairs, not bothering to check if Butcher is following until you’re outside. The temperature is significantly lower than it was yesterday, but your stubbornness doesn’t let you show it as Butcher strides past you toward the car haphazardly parked at the curb.

You climb into the passenger’s seat, sitting as close as you can to the door and hugging your clothes against your chest as you stare out the window. Tears fill your eyes, your nose growing hot and your cheeks undoubtedly red as you use every ounce of self-control you still have to stave of the inevitable. All you need to do is make it home and make it to your bedroom, and then you can cry. You can curl up with your face in your pillow and sob, and admit that you’re jealous, that you’re hurt, and that you love a man who doesn’t even understand the meaning of that word anymore.

“You look like shit,” he grunts.

You sniffle, keeping your face turned away from him, “So do you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get much fuckin’ sleep,” he says as the car comes to a halt, “I was up all night worryin’ ‘bout whether or not you were fuckin’ alive.”

“Well, I didn’t get much sleep either,” you retort, before pushing the passenger door open and stumbling out.

You hear the car door slam as you hurry up the stairs and into the building, taking the steps two at a time until you reach the apartment door. To your great relief, it’s unlocked, and you let yourself in before Butcher has even made it into the hallway.

“Oh, my goodness, mon amour,” Frenchie gasps, “you’re alive! You’re okay… are you okay?”

You don’t realise your crying until you try to look at him, your vision blurred by heavy tears as they fall in fat droplets down your cheeks.

MM steps forward, “What happened?”

“Nothing,” you wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, “I’m fine, I was with a-a friend.”

“A friend?” Butcher echoes, the door slamming behind him.

Your blood sizzles in your veins, heated by the overwhelming frustration coiling in your chest.

“How the fuck did you know where I was?” you demand, spinning around to face him.

He doesn’t answer.

“Do you have my fucking phone bugged?”

Butcher blows a long breath out of his nose, the thick vein in his neck throbbing under his red skin. “Look,” he says, “I know that whatever the fuck just happened wasn’t ideal, but why can’t you fuckin’ see this from my point of view?”

“Our point of view,” MM corrects, “we were all worried.”

“I get that!” you exclaim, “I fucking understand that, but what I don’t understand is why Butcher is still acting like such a fucking cunt. You can see that I’m fine! I’m alive, so what’s your problem?”

“What’s your problem?” he snaps, “Why didn’t you answer your fuckin’ phone? Why didn’t you tell anyone where you fuckin’ were? And why the fuck did you go home with a complete fuckin’ stranger?”

“Oh, shit,” Frenchie murmurs.

“Maybe I just needed a fucking break.”

The room falls quiet, the only sound being Frenchie’s soft footsteps as he backs away. You use the clothes in your arms to wipe the fresh fall of tears from your cheeks and try to ease your shaky breaths as you wait for another onslaught of reprimands.

Butcher sighs, “Go shower.”

“What?”

“You need to shower,” he says, stepping forward.

You frown, “Why?”

“You look like shit, and you sm-” he stops himself, pausing when you take a small step back.

“I look like shit and I smell,” you finish for him, “thanks, Butcher.”

You drag your feet toward the bathroom, dropping your clothes on the floor and staring at your wrecked face in the mirror. Your hair is a mess and your face is blotchy and red, with streaks of black painting your cheeks. The shirt hanging loosely from your shoulders is unfamiliar, and something akin to disgust settles in the pit of your stomach.

“Give me your clothes,” Butcher says as he appears in the reflection behind you.

“Why can’t you just fucking leave me alone?”

He sighs, “I’m tryin’ to help.”

“I don’t want your fucking help,” you turn to him and lean against the vanity, “go offer it to someone else. I’m sure Maeve would love to see your fucking name pop up on her phone.”

His frown disappears, and you can feel the air shift. Fuck. Now you’ve done it. The shards of glass sticking you from the inside have cut right through your chest, slicing it open as your ribcage cracks and unfolds, presenting your pathetic heart to the man who already held it in his hands.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

Tears sting your eyes, but you blink them back with determination.

“I-Is that what this is-” he struggles for words, running his hands through his hair, “for fuck’s sake, Y/N.”

Your breath comes and goes in short gasps, the lump in your throat crushing your windpipe as it demands to be felt.

“For fuck’s sake!” he exclaims, before taking one step forward and slamming the bathroom door shut.

Fear sparks through you, and you whimper, “Butcher, please don’t-”

Before you can finish, he pulls you against his chest, his arms wrapping around you in a vice hold as he rests his chin on the top of your head. You sob into his shirt, tremors wracking your exhausted body as every bit of fear and frustration tears you apart from the inside. You’re not sure how you let yourself get this emotional. Maybe it’s the fact that the world is falling apart, and you’re supposed to act like you’re ready to save it? Or maybe it’s because you’re fucking tired of having everything you love ripped away from you, every chance you think you might have at happiness taken from you by the cunts in the sky who call themselves ‘Superheroes’.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

The turbulence inside of you quells simply because you finally acknowledged it, and you manage to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Butcher,” you croak, looking up at him through tear laced lashes, “kiss me?”

He hooks a finger beneath your chin and tilts it up, leaning in to meet you the rest of the way before his lips brush yours. It’s hesitant and soft, barely a touch, and he pulls away too soon.

“You need to shower.”

“Oh,” you try to wriggle out of his arms, but they’re too strong.

“I can smell that fuckin’ twat all over you,” he growls, “an’ it’s makin’ me fuckin’ sick.”

Realisation slaps you across the face, giving you the strength to remember how to hold yourself up as he pulls away. His fingers curl into the material at the neck of your shirt, ripping it apart right down the middle before pushing it off your shoulders and tossing it on the floor.

Another growl rumbles through his chest and the air in the room shifts again, now thick with a tension that has your heart throbbing in anticipation. Your mind races, your thoughts riding rollercoasters as you struggle to catch up with his fast hands. Your jeans are unbuttoned and pooled around your ankles in less than a second, and he takes another moment to devour your naked body before moving to turn on the shower.

You stumble out of your jeans as he quickly sheds his own clothes before wrapping an arm around your waist. He pulls you under the warm stream of water and holds your body against his, the feeling of his bare skin making your head spin. He takes the bottle of bodywash from the small shelf and pops the cap with one hand, turning it upside down and squirting a ridiculous amount all over your chest and his.

You giggle and he grins, returning the bottle to the shelf before crushing his lips against yours. The soap makes your skin slide against his in the most delicious way and you can feel your core clench, eliciting a wanton moan from your open mouth. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth and claiming you with hungry, sloppy kisses.

“Didn’t think you’d be jealous,” he murmurs against your mouth, “didn’t think you fuckin’ cared about me.”

You slide your hands across his bare shoulders and behind his neck, finding purchase in his wet hair and tugging gently as you kiss him with every ounce of passion that you have.

“I do care,” you sigh when his lips leave yours to lap at your neck, “I am fucking jealous.”

“Sweethear’,” he whispers, his hands moving to your breasts, “you’ve got nothin’ to be fuckin’ jealous ‘bout.”

His mouth leaves your skin as he turns you to face the wall, pressing his body against your back before pushing you into the tiled wall. You gasp first at the sudden cold, and then at the feeling of him grinding himself against your ass.

“I’m yours,” he growls, his lips against your shoulder, “always fuckin’ have been.”

You still manage to speak despite the pleasure of him threatening to overwhelm you. “Then why?”

One hand wraps gently around your throat while the other splays across your lower belly, teasing the place just below that aches for his touch.

“‘Cause I never fuckin’ dreamed that I’d have you,” he says, his lips at your ear now.

You reach back with one hand, holding the nape of his neck as you turn so that your mouth can meet his in a messy kiss.

“You’ve always had me,” you murmur, “I belonged to you the day I met you.”

His hips buck against your ass, pressing you against the wall and making you whimper.

“You’re mine,” he says, moving back just enough for you to turn around.

You nod as you lean down to kiss his neck. Your tongue laving at his wet skin before your teeth sink in and he hisses, one hand squeezing your hip as the other smacks against the tiled wall.

“All yours.”

You place your hands against his chest, pushing him back enough for you to drop to your knees, your hands trailing down his body until they reach his hips. You dig your fingers in and look up at him through your wet lashes.

“Show me who I belong to.”

END.

#billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #butcher x reader #the boys #karl urban #frenchie #mm #mothers milk #hughie campbell #starlight #queen maeve #homelander #oneshot #one shot #imagine #fanfic

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embracing-the-ineffable · 9 months

Text

Hunting for Clues-with-a-capital-C, a meta of Good Omens metas, and GO fun!

*I'm adding to this list as I find new and interesting Clues and theories!

*This post version is dated 21 Apr 2024; the current version is pinned to my profile.

* I maxed out Tumblr's link limit! Here's the Google doc (which is due to be updated SOON with lots of posts I've reshared in the last few months...) with all the Clues, links, and metas I've collected from all over the fandom.

Below, you'll find a list of my original posts, most of which are filled with fact-finding, Clue-hunting screenshots that will probably leave you with more questions than answers! Several of these posts are also presented in partnership with the Ineffable Detective Agency:

Fanfiction:

From the GOMM holiday exchange: Cocoa and Fairy Lights, How to Fight Your Chemistry and Lose

GOMM 2024: Orbiting a Memory featuring a gorgeous illustration by @altonthebard

Fan Fiction Friday: The Universe Might Answer: Broken Moonlight

From the GO Song & Poetry Exchange: The Ineffable Dance

Good Omens Day of ✨Dance✨:

Learn all about my GO "Day of Dance" and get a link to all the fandom art I shared, here!

Time:

Gabriel's Memory Returns:

Plus, hidden audio in the memory tunnels?

The Appearing Sign:

Edinburgh and the Briefcase, presented by the Ineffable Detective Agency

The Bentley:

Crowley, Aziraphale, and the Statue:

Crowley's sideburns:

Crowley's sideburns aren't even consistent in the promo photos.

Extras Behaving Strangely:

Hawaiian Shirt/Pub Table Guy

Marking the Columns

The Demon in an Orange Hoodie

More Assorted Discontinuities:

When does Mr Arnold's shop arrive? After season 1, except Neil says it was in the 1970s

The disappearing textiles storefront

Season 1: First Wombat in Space (also, Bentley bullet hole decals)

The Clock and Other Furnishings:

The circular bookshop rug CHANGES?!

The Good Omens bookshop furniture changes between s1 and s2 (but NOT after Adam reboots reality!)

The Bookshop/Hospital Sink

The Opening Title Sequence:

The S2 Opening Title Sequence: analysis

Other Speculation and Questions:

On Neil's Tumblr asks, Staying Skeptical, and Gravity Falls

Finding hope for s3 and perspective for s2 in Neil's s1 podcast with David Tennant

The BTS parking ticket translation

Parallels with Nightmare in Silver (Doctor Who written by Neil) - multiple Crowleys?

Has Aziraphale been meeting with Floating Head Metatron throughout s2?

Would even vulnerable, heartbroken Crowley try to protect Aziraphale at all costs? A possible hidden transfer in the kiss.

I have questions about Nina and ESPECIALLY about Maggie...

Don't pay the guy with the blue glasses, he doesn't work here!

If you enjoyed my research, stay tuned for future posts, and take a look at my Google doc for even more Clues and metas from all over the fandom!

Some closing bits of encouragement:

A: "You just said it was the only way to prevent something terrible happening!" G: "Really? What?!" A: "I don't know!" G: "Well then, I expect it will be fine. Most things are fine in the end."

Neil: "Tell him that it will all be all right in the end, and that we are not yet at the end."

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dustyrkives · 3 months

Text

Satisfied with your care // A. Wong.

I know I might misinterpret things because I'm new to the fandom, but please, hear me out on this one🫣

Notes: Physician reader, hierarchy of doctors, !njuries, age-gap between the reader and Ada (7 years), female reader, Ada finding you amusing and interesting, size difference (my jaw dropped when I found out she's 5'7), Ada might develop an obsession for you and your notes but I think it's cute - *train passes by*. That's pretty much it, I think.

Not proofread, sorry :D

And feedback is appreciated <3

Thinking about Ada visiting the organization's medcenter to tend to her serious injuries before she either takes her leave or prepares for another mission.

That's when she set her eyes on you, the young mentee of her organization's physician.

At first, she finds you insignificant, always by your mentor's beck and call, standing behind the scenes while the doctor tends to her wounds before dismissing her with painkillers and reminders for her to change her bandages to avoid irritation and infection until several months later after returning from another mission, and it just so happens that the attending physician is busy with the other injured agents - which leaves her with you: a Fellow.

Ada kept a sharp eye on you while you tend to her injuries. Nothing serious - just a few cuts, bruises and some broken bones, ribs and fractures. But Ada's too tired to tend them herself so she leaves that job to you. You examine her injuries, surprised that she doesn't show any signs of pain in her cold, sharp countenance - countless missions must've hardened her edges, you thought.

"Are you just going to stare at me all day?" Her cutting tone snaps you out of your train of thought.

Embarrassed, a practiced smile plays on your lips, "My apologies," and began tending to her wounds.

The first thing Ada notices is the way you touched her: soft, gentle. Then again, so is any other physician while they treat their patients. But what makes yours...different?

Perhaps she was touch-starved.

You graciously ignored Ada's gaze as you tend to her injuries, something she finds interesting considering her gaze was enough to make some...targets fumble, but not you. But oh, she thought wrong. Ada saw the way your well-manicured hands twitch at her proximity - you were tending to the gash on the side of her waist. You were close enough to smell her scent: woody, warm spicy, vanilla...cherries.

The older woman's lips curl to a ghost of a smirk as she witnessed how you momentarily froze before tending to her wound before calmly leaning away from her and smiling rather nervously at the Asian woman before giving Ada her doctor's note and sending her off. Ada just stood there, outside the door as she looks at your note. Nothing significant, just some painkillers, antibiotics, reminders to change her bandages and, oh? A medical certificate for her injuries and a note acknowledging the state of her injuries. Contrary to your mentor, he would just tend to her wounds and give her some aspirin and send her off. Her lips curl upward. Interesting, Ada would thought before keeping your note.

Ada then discovers that she finds you amusing. Which also leads her to another discovery about herself: that she's a creature of habit, and that visiting the medcenter will be the first thing she does after returning from her missions. And so she did, every after her missions, you'd notice that she would prefer you over the attending physician. You find it flattering because it means one thing: she trusts you with her wounds. The Asian woman would always come back with her wounds slightly detrimental than the last - but no worries, you're capable of treating them. While you find it concerning, Ada sees it as a valid reason to feel the pads of your fingers against her skin.

And she loves it.

She loves the way you'd wipe the blood on her face and body away like a demented blush, or the way your fingers would delicately examine her bruises to the point that she finds herself fantasizing how your lips would feel all over her scars and bruises instead of your fingers. Every touch from you would figuratively bring the older woman to her knees; Ada has to admit, you have that kind of power over her.

You on the other hand, well, developed a certain liking for the older woman. Calm, verbally well-articulated and devastatingly gorgeous - you have no doubt that anyone who comes across her would be intrigued. But as a professional and an aspiring attendee, you had to bury that attraction, and you thought it was simple.

You were wrong, utterly wrong.

With every visit from Ada, there would be hushed greetings, piercing stares, low praises from her - it makes your spine tingle with glee and bliss.

"You'd get wrinkles if you do that." The older woman mused as she sits on the edge of the examining table. You shoot her a pointed look - you were comfortable to show your displeasure when it comes to her serious injuries. "How could I not when you look like 'that'?" You counter as you gesture at her state. The latter raises a brow as she looks down at herself. Her shirt is soaked with blood, she swore she had just changed before coming to see you but the blood from her poorly bandaged shoulder wound seeped into the fabric of the material, not to mention her small cuts and bruises. She quirked a brow, "You do realize that you treated far more serious injuries from me?"

"Yes, but-" You stop yourself before inhaling slowly to better articulate your words. "It's concerning-"

"Are you worried?"

A pause, "Of course," You sigh quietly before approaching her. "Are you able to remove your shirt?"

The latter raise a brow and you flushed. "I need to examine the wound-"

"Easy, pretty girl," She grins and the red on your cheeks darkened. "And I can't," She palms the bloody bandage. "I think I need new bandages and maybe some muscle tape."

You can't help but return her grin, "Stitches, probably."

The latter nods as you prepare the surgical scissors and begin cutting through her shirt. While doing so, Ada watches you intently as the cloth loosens, and cuts in half, revealing her scarred, lithe torso. You inhale slowly before gently removing the soaked cloth and tending to her injury.

"At this point, I think you allow yourself to get hurt." You stammered as you patched her up in a quick yet efficient fashion, "Well, I mean - I'm not saying it to undermine your capabilities as an asset or anything - what I'm saying is-" Ada merely chuckles when you're done. "I mean," The former slowly stands up. "Ada," You warned, "You shouldn't-" But the Asian doesn't listen as she gracefully steps toward you, you did the opposite.

"You really shouldn't," Your words die in your throat as her figure towers over you. Damn, was Ada this tall before? How come you didn't notice?

Reality sets in when your back presses against the counter. "Ada, your injuries-" Your pleas fall on deaf ears as the older woman traps you against the counter - she didn't even cage you in yet before she takes another step closer to you - uncomfortably close that she can take your fleeting scent: comforting, with the right amount of sweet, and mingling notes of Jasmine.

Ada's eyes dilated.

"For the last time, Ada," The former was brought back to her senses when your hand pressed against the base of her neck, your fingers are pressed against the muscle between her neck, and right collarbone. "Sit down, please - do you feel anything at all?"

The older woman slowly blinks before finally, trapping you with her arms blocking your sides as she looks down at you through her lashes.

You feel her pulse quicken beneath her cool, pale skin.

"I do now," Ada whispers.

#ada wong x reader #resident evil x reader #ada wong #rambling because my brain is full of Ada #This one's kind of messy but bear with me pls #resident evil #re4 remake #re4 ada

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demonicbaby666 · 3 months

Text

The Couch

One shot | Supergirl Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Supergirl

Pairing: Supercorp

Genre: Fluff and eventual smut

Words: 4.3k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, Kara being an absolute cutie ig, fingering, oral sex, overstimulation (it's unintentional)

Summary: Just two friends casually sleeping together far too regularly on a worn-out couch. What could go wrong?

A/n: She’s not perfect, but it’s been a month and I desperately needed to get something out there! Promise to be more on my writing game. Also a big thank you to my wife @hotchscvm for being my beta reader and hyping me up <3

The first time was an accident. After too many potstickers (on Kara's part) and too many pages read from her spell book (on Lena's part), they'd ended up on the couch, dozing side by side. In retrospect, it was late, and while staying up to spend more time with each other sounded like a good idea, it probably would have been a better idea to host the impromptu feast at one of their apartments. But that is neither here nor there because the fact still remained: they'd always feel so at home with each other that falling asleep on concrete would probably come as easy as it would a plump mattress.

Sometime in the night, Lena had managed to topple over on her side, taking her best friend down with her, and either Kara was too exhausted to care or too sleepy to notice because the half-arsed excuse of a cuddle was taken in kind with one muscled arm slipping around a curved waist. Kara had never shied away from intimacy, especially with Lena, but as she groggily slung her arm around her best friend, happily snuggling into her fragrant neck, the beginnings of something very not platonic began tampering away in her chest. It all felt daunting, yet wonderfully and irrefutably natural.

Everything was all well and good for a while. They both slept better than they had in weeks. That was until a few hours later, when the sun had just started to peak over neighbouring spires, and the pair rose from their sleep to discover the true meaning of back pain. Of course, neither pointed out that if they had gone home rather than finished the duration of their uncomfortable slumber in each other's embrace, the agony would have been much more manageable. Still, once again, this was never mentioned. Instead, Lena took to teasing Kara about the drool drying at the corner of her mouth, and Kara's rebuttal was to mention the bird's nest atop Lena's head.

The second time was a week later when Kara returned from a nightly patrol to find Lena snoozing alone. The brunette had taken advantage of the couch's full length; her legs bent to accommodate the sparse leg room, and she had a cushion wedged under her head that had definitely seen better days. Other than that, Kara was reasonably convinced Lena seemed comfortable. Kara did try not to stare, but after minutes spent wandering about and trying to find something to do, and there definitely was bound to be something if she was actually looking as hard as she had convinced herself she was, Kara relented and returned to Lena.

She watched as the brunette's chest rhythmically rose and fell, how her mouth was slightly parted to allow tiny sighs to tumble out, and couldn't help but smile as her chest warmed at the sight of the way Lena had her arm flung over her forehead, hand flying over the side of the couch. It was a sign, Kara recognised, that meant Lena was, for once, having a rested sleep rather than the usual - broken and fragmentary. That was why she told herself she didn't wake her or risk it by flying her home. There was nothing selfish about it. In fact, she was being selfless by relishing the notion she was probably one of the very few people who got to see Lena that way - open and bare, not always on guard or the look for any sign of danger. Of course, Kara saw glimpses of it when they were together, but it was rare. So, getting to truly see Lena when she was so unguarded was remarkable in Kara's eyes.

It felt right when she walked over and knelt beside the roughspun fabric of the couch to get a closer look, like there was some injustice to picking out the details of such a pretty picture from afar that had been corrected. Now, if it had been anyone else, Kara would have worried her behaviour was bordering on creepy. Still, it was Lena, her Lena, and simply listening to that strong, steady heartbeat warmed Kara's chest. It quieted all the clattering and commotion of National City. The conversations, the arguments, the music, the car engines, everything fell silent to Lena's familiar heartbeat, and Kara would be damned to ever apologise for finding calm in that, so she continued to watch. That, she could admit, was selfish.

As much as sleep may dull one's senses, Lena was becoming keenly aware she wasn't alone. Usually, her first instinct would be to fight, but when she blinked her eyes open and was met with the human version of a golden retriever, she couldn't help but smile sleepily.

"Hi," Kara whispered, placing both knuckles under her chin and continuing to stare with childlike wonder sparkling in her eyes.

"Hi," Lena replied weakly. Only she found she was not weak from sleep or the dull ache in her cramped legs. She was weak from the way Kara was staring. It made her feel naked and exposed like she was on trial for the crime of being known and still loved. She saw it in those blue eyes - pure adoration and devotion, and it terrified her how Kara could look at her like that when she'd seen her at her worst, when she'd hurt Kara in unforgivable ways and carried the same genes as people who damn near wanted her dead.

She was weak for losing herself in the blue whirls of her best friend's eyes, the golden flecks that circled her pupils - yet another thing that made her seem unreal. Her fingers twitched as she mentally traced the little scar by Kara's left eyebrow, wanting desperately to reach out and feel the mark of a distant memory from Krypton. Lena thought better of it, knowing the intimacy of the act would mean stepping into dangerous territory. Instead, she shuffled to the side, cramming herself against the back of the couch and extending a silent invitation, one Kara understood immediately, and if her joyous smile was anything to go by, she was more than happy to accept.

Kara lay flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to think of how good it felt to have the warmth of Lena's body so close. After a few minutes in her log-like position, she cautiously raised an arm in question. The proximity between them was nil, so what was the damage in being a little closer? Her bravery was instantly rewarded with a weight falling on her chest and a slim finger tracing the raised fabric along her chest. And as many a time before, everything around her, except Lena, ceased to exist, and Kara found herself lulled by the steady thrum of a familiar heartbeat.

The third time, Kara told herself, it was completely and utterly necessary. Suppose she didn't comfort Lena when she felt like utter shit. It would quite literally be the end of the world. She was sure of it. Solely because of that, Kara hunted the brunette down, finding her in a dimly lit room, a set of fresh tears trickling slowly down her cheeks. A series of angry lines marked Lena's blanched cheeks rouge, the colour of heartbreaking remembrance. There was a distinct look in her eyes, resembling a wounded pup. Only Lena had never been helpless like one. She'd been alone the majority of her adult life, fighting. And she'd come out the other end stronger for it; that was undeniable, but what would always remain were the chronic wounds of her hardships.

Kara remained in the doorway, unsure her presence would be welcome. The more she saw, the heavier her chest felt. The details were the worst: the way Lena clasped her hands so tightly together, yet they still shook, the glossed-over sheen to her eyes, the way her jaw shook with each silent cry, and most of all, the raw hiccups that only Kara could pick up, wearing away at Lena's throat every time she tried to keep herself quiet.

Clearing her throat, Kara lightly padded over. The brunette's mind was so far away that by the time Kara was crouching down and delicately separating her woven hands, taking each within her own, she'd just about registered that she was no longer alone looking with puffy eyes. Kara tried to offer a sympathetic smile, but it was excruciatingly painful when the woman she adored radiated so much pain she felt within herself, too. She was helplessly searching her mind for something to say, anything that could encompass what Lena was feeling or take it all away, but she knew nothing in her vocabulary could.

Kara got to her feet, taking Lena with her. There was no complaint. Lena simply complied, no energy left in her to fight, no reason to fight someone wholly trusted. She let herself be taken from one room and led into another, her mind turned off and tuned only to how soft the hand guiding her forward felt - how it was already calming her racing pulse.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Kara asked, sitting down on the far side of the couch, encouraging Lena to join her by keeping their hands clasped. Lena followed willingly, though she kept quiet, staring at the margin between the couch cushions, each frayed piece of string taking her interest individually.

Kara gave Lena a once over, this time honing into every detail as quickly as possible so Lena didn't feel uncomfortable. She noticed a handful of things: the shine to Lena's hair was no longer there, and her perfume was only vaguely present, but what Kara saw first was the darkened ring under Lena's swollen eyes, and that's when she gathered what had been happening.

"It's the nightmares again, isn't it?" Kara quietly asked, squeezing Lena's hand once, twice, and holding tight to show this was in no way an invasion of privacy but a rope for the brunette to take so Kara could help pull her out of the pit she'd fallen into. A tiny whimper confirmed her guess, and that's when Kara took action. She ignored Lena's creased brow when she untangled their hands, scootched closer, looped her arms around Lena's waist and hauled her onto her lap. It was a risky move, given that this was most definitely not the most platonic position. However, any fear and regret instantly faded when she heard a sigh and felt Lena's head nestle into her neck. She held her tight and let Lena take whatever she needed from the embrace. Gently, Kara used one hand to brush through chestnut hair, keeping one hand around a slim waist. Emboldened by Lena's willingness, Kara lowered her head, turned it to the side, and kissed her barely visible cheek.

"Can we stay here tonight?" Lena finally whispered, and Kara's whole body responded in kind, buzzing in anticipation.

"Of course," she replied into the silky softness of Lena's hair. She breathed in, knowing before the exact scents that would coax their way through her airways, only to erupt into a swarming storm in her stomach - herbal shampoo complemented by nodes of bittersweet honey tea, the kind you'd drink when trees began to lose their leaves and your body hadn't yet adjusted to the drop in temperature. "Whatever you need, Lee, I'll do it."

"You, Kara Zor-el, are my hero, not Supergirl, you," Lena pulled back to confess, her worn-out eyes glinting in low light as she stared intently, watching Kara's eyes gaze right back. They stayed staring for seconds, a minute; neither knew. They simply accepted that it didn't feel wrong, it didn't feel awkward, it felt safe and warm, like coming back home after a trainwreck of a day or seeing the sun finally peak from behind the rainclouds.

Finally, Lena ducked back down and allowed herself to let go, wetting Kara's neck with a fresh set of tears.

After that, it became a weekly occurrence, then bi-weekly, tri-weekly and well, then they didn't bother trying to count how many times a week they found excuses to fall asleep in each other's arms. The couch grew new additions that no one mentioned but thoroughly enjoyed: a luxuriously soft blanket folded neatly over the side, a kitschy cushion from Kara's apartment and new upholstery. Neither spoke of their shared nights, not even with each other. It became taboo, a dirty secret between two willing participants. They both knew that, for one reason or another, they were crossing boundaries, leading them into dangerous territory. However, not acknowledging it seemed enough to fend off the intrusive thoughts.

After a particularly long day at the tower, Kara and Lena found themselves in the same place they had always wound up in when everyone had left. Their limbs entangled, and their bodies so close Lena was essentially lying atop Kara, with her head comfortably nestled on the blonde's chest. Usually, the pair would find sleep quickly enough, but something was different that night. Sleep didn't come so easy, with the day's events weighing heavy.

"What are you thinking about," Kara asked, breaking the comfortable quietude.

Lena didn't have to think twice before answering, "How I never want to lose you."

There were a few bouts of silence. Kara let Lena's words sink in before speaking again, "What do you mean?"

"Every day, you go out and protect the people of this world, even if it means risking your own life." Lena mindlessly played with the collar of Kara's sweater, trying to casualise the severity of what she was saying. Kara could sense the tension brewing in Lena and began to draw soothing circles up and down her back.

"It's who I am, Lee. My powers mean I can help people; it's my duty to do so," Kara sighed, pressing her lips to Lena's head.

"I know. But I just worry I won't see you fly back through the tower doors, that I won't be able to do enough to help you, and I'll lose the only person that's ever seemed to," she paused, the l word anxiously sitting on her tongue. "That I'll lose the one person who has always stood by me. It's selfish, I know."

A tidal wave of emotions washed over Kara. She stayed motionless for at least a minute, processing all Lena had said, and failed to say.

"Lena, look at me," she ordered.

They were both helplessly reminding themselves that this is what friends do: they're allowed to cuddle, they're allowed to fall asleep together, and they're allowed to feel like they complete each other in a way no one else probably could. The pure definition of slumber parties is deep conversations where confessions are made, so of course, this is all normal and strictly platonic and nothing more. Except when their eyes met, the look they shot at one another was anything but friendly. It was desperate and demanding, taking all the oxygen out of the room and leaving them breathless. Kara could hear Lena's heartbeat, frantic, from anticipation, excitement, or fear, she didn't know.

"I will never leave you. I'm not going anywhere."

"You can't promise me that."

Kara cupped Lena's cheeks in her palms, gently holding her still, "You're right, I can't, but I can promise that I will always fight to come back home to the people I love– to come back to you." Her eyes flickered between Lena's eyes and lips. "I love you, Lena."

"You don't have to say that," Lena choked out.

"I meant it," she stated in a hushed voice, eyes firmly planted on soft lips. "Lena, come here."

"Kara," Lena pleaded in a weak whisper, battling the fuzzy feeling that was stirring beneath her fingertips. Lena could scarcely breathe, her throat constricting with each passing second because Kara was looking at her the same way she always did, and she was so very weak to stop herself from looking back and letting the air be stolen from her lungs. Kara pulled her closer until their lips were a hair's width away, and then she chose to wait. Her intentions were clear, but she knew it had to be Lena who would make the final move. And she did. Lena closed the minimal space between their lips, ignoring the rapid pace of her thudding heart. As expected, Kara's lips were perfect, acceptant to let Lena take the lead and demanding nothing in return.

Soon enough, both got lost in the delicacy of a slow makeup session. Kara made a great effort to reign in her zeal, only encouraging Lena with a slide of her hands down to a supple waist and aiding the brunette atop her when she heard no protest. The two found themselves upright, Lena's knees cocooning Kara's hips, their core pressed against one another enough to raise their body temperatures. With the slide of the super's tongue along a plump lip and the compliant opening of the brunette's mouth, their slow and tempered kiss tilted more towards eager and desperate. Kara had scarcely noticed her hands sliding down to grip Lena's ass. She wholly gave herself to instinct and desire, guiding Lena back and forth in a grinding motion.

"Kara," Lena moaned, throwing her head back and struggling to hold herself still when Kara instantly went to suckle at her neck. "Not here. Take me home."

The blonde didn't need to be told twice; she hauled herself up, taking Lena with her, and allowed the other woman's feet to briefly touch the ground before she picked her up bridal style and shot out the balcony doors. The city was bursting with life. Laughter echoed off every surface and bounced up into the night sky. The noise sought to pollute Kara's senses, yet the blonde didn't even have to try to fight off the background noise because all she was focused on was Lena's smile, and her residing bouts of childlike laughter. It was perfection - holding Lena close, feeling her body heat against the crisp evening wind.

All the withheld desire flooded their senses the moment they landed on Lena's balcony. Kara burst into the apartment, brain muddled with the ghostly feel of velvety lips all over her throat. She used her super speed to whisk them to the bedroom, gently placing Lena down and climbing atop her.

"Hi," Lena whispered, searching Kara's eyes for regret or hesitation.

"Hi." The super leaned down and pressed a small kiss to Lena's lips before pushing herself back up to hover and smile, ridding her best friend of any doubt.

"Can I?" Lena asked, her hands under Kara's sweater, bunching the material between her palms.

"Yes." But Kara didn't appear to have the patience for Lena's gentle touch as she yanked the offending garment over her head and ducked right back down to Lena's neck, lowering her lips to the birthmark that always looked so darn kissable and did just that.

They set their tasks to removing articles of clothing, revealing more and more of themselves to each other, taking turns to stare awestruck before returning to the matter at hand. Kara took her sweet time unclasping Lena's bra if only to charge to the impending reveal she'd been waiting years for.

"Beautiful," Kara whispered, eyes fixed on Lena. "You're perfect."

She didn't let the brunette get a word in, not that Lena stood a chance when lips had already surrounded her pert nipple and a tongue darted out to move in tight circles. Kara was ravenous. She moved from breast to breast at lightning speed, giving each the full treatment until Lena was mewling and cantering her hips. It was when she felt the slickness of need touch her stomach that Kara ventured south. With each methodical kiss, Kara shuffled lower and lower, finally arriving and comfortably settling herself between creamy thighs.

Contrary to Kara's expectations, Lena was not fighting to be in charge. She allowed Kara to play around and find what got the most promising reactions. However, it seemed to be less trial and error and more constantly hitting the nail on the head because after what must have only been half a minute, Lena was practically writhing, and Kara was all but lost in the rich, sharp tastes coating her tongue. She'd found her pace and her pattern, starting with slow, pointed licks to Lena's clit, occasionally running the stiff muscle down to drive into her sopping cunt before moving back up and taking the bundle of nerves into her mouth and lathering it with the flat of her tongue. Kara kept this up, falling in love with all the ways Lena would respond: her low-pitched moans, her bucking hips, the way her thighs would clamp around Kara’s head when she used the heel of her foot to urge the blonde closer. It was heaven, and Kara never wanted it to end.

She was vaguely aware Lena was reaching her peak, the hand in her hair tightening, fingers coiling locks of hair in a firm grip. It spurred her on. Kara only moved faster, messily lapping up every inch of Lena's pussy until the brunette sprung up from the bed and let out a cry. Kara was greedy, though; she slowed down, gently lapping up the mess left behind, only to devour Lena all over again. From the moment Kara heard the sounds Lena unleashed when she entered her with two fingers, she was a goner. All she knew was Lena's sweaty body, her accelerated heartbeat, the clamping around her fingers and the harmonious cries of pleasure. She kept going and going. Harder. Faster.

"Kara," Lena whimpered, her breathing heavily laboured and her heart pounding. She used her grip on Kara's hair to pry her away. "You've got to stop."

"Are you okay?" Kara reeled back to ask. She scanned Lena once over, fear evident in her eyes. "Did I hurt you?"

"No! No, of course not. You just made me cum four times in a row, darling. I think I may pass out if you keep going." Lena seemed dazed but happily so as she stared down lovingly at Kara. She used her remaining strength to guide the blonde back up and capture her lips in an appreciative kiss, moaning at the taste of herself on her best friend's tongue.

Lena bided her time. She waited to regain a steady heartbeat before she refocused her attention on the pressing matter that was the slick mess gathering on her thigh. Kara had - clearly - already begun working herself up. Whether or not the needy grinding was intentional, Lena didn't know, but she knew she wanted to be the one to give Kara her release, not have the blonde get off on her thigh. She guided Kara back and forth till she deemed her sufficiently distracted, and only then did she turn the tables, flipping the super on her back with surprising strength.

"My turn," Lena devilishly smirked.

She effortlessly slid three fingers into Kara and began thrusting in and out with reckless abandon. The blonde had no chance. Her head crashed back into soft pillows, her body burst to life, and her skin birthed a litany of pebbly goosebumps. It was like nothing she'd experienced before. Unlike previous times, this felt like it was finally for her. Kara didn't have to fake the appreciative sounds coming from her mouth. She didn't have to direct Lena on what to do. She was free to lie back and take all that was given. And Lena was more than happy to provide.

The brunette had her lips glued to Kara's neck, adamant about marking her impenetrable skin, and though she may have been failing miserably, there was no mistaking Kara's moans for anything but satisfaction. So she kept going. With her mission still in sight, Lena eased herself down on her elbow, alleviating some of the pressure from her hand and placed her thumb over Kara's clit. The position was awkward, but Lena did her best to trace figures of eight over and around Kara's sensitive bud - knowing she immensely enjoyed the action herself - and was rewarded instantly when she felt Kara's body tense up and shake.

"Lena," Kara moaned. Her hands were wound in the bedsheets, knuckles blanched from the force of her grip. She sounded so desperate, so fragile, that Lena had to bite her tongue to stop herself from moaning.

"I know," Lena replied, rising back on her palm to gaze at Kara's sheer beauty in this delirious state. She delicately brushed stray hairs off Kara's face, staring deep into her eyes, and ever so slightly smiled. "Let go, baby."

~~~

"You're staring," Lena sighed, turning over and using her palms to rub sleep from her eyes. She’d expected some sort of embarrassment to tint Kara's face. Instead, she was met with a cheeky smile and a raised eyebrow.

"I know," Kara said in a sure voice, her gaze unmoving, and suddenly, Lena felt like she was on fire all over again. The vivid events of the previous evening, still very fresh in her mind, were of no help.

"Oh." Her cheeks were burning, and there was no doubt with her pale skin Kara could see. So Lena did what she could; she hid her face in Kara's side. "If you maybe wanted to stop, I wouldn't be opposed."

She vaguely heard Kara's laugh, but she'd become one with the small between the blonde's side and her forearm that everything was muffled. That was rectified when she was swiftly slumped onto her back, and whisps of golden hair tickled her cheeks from above.

"I don't want to stop," Kara whispered. Innocence slowly vanished from the back-and-forth gaze, replaced with dark curiosity and dangerous intent. Soon, Lena found herself incapable of not glancing at Kara's pillowy lips that seemed to be inching closer. "Roa, I never want to stop staring at you."

Tags: @homo-oddity @camciel @lovelyy-moonlight | click here to be added to my taglist

#supercorp #supercorp fanfic #kara and lena #kara x lena #kara danvers #lena luthor #supergirl cw #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #Kara Danvers #Lena luthor #kara danvers x lena luthor

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onyour-right · 7 months

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Episode 4 of Gen V was just *chefs kiss*

As someone who saw the instant connection between Marie and Jordan I feel so vindicated!!! I love those two so much, their kiss was everything & then Jordan stepping in to protect Marie. Scrumdidlyumptious!!! Although not to be that person but it bothers me when people say they're enemies to lovers. They're not, they are rivals to lovers which is also just as good. I wanna write for these two so badly omg

I also really like Sam and Emma together but I've been in fandom for too long to not notice the signs that one of them is gonna die at the end of the season I fear dont come for me pls they're my second fave

That little twist at the end, I strongly suspect that it was Cate's doing which is a shame but imma still love her regardless if it does turn out to be her.

Andre, I like him but he's stupid. Sam has been tortured and whatnot for years, has broken out of his prison, and then you have the audacity to ask what his problem is???? I'm sorry but you deserve that beat down LOL dumbass.

#gen v #jordan li #marie moreau #andre anderson #cate dunlap #emma meyer #jordan x marie #sam x emma #g watches

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dragon-chica · 1 year

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Enid Sinclair - Heat (NSF W)

Fandom: Wednesday

You asked, and now I deliver.

Enid will tell you, by far the worst thing about being a werewolf is having to deal with heats. Even before she was able to transform she still had to suffer through them.

When she was younger and they first started it was bad enough, a 3 week period of bleeding and hormones and feeling like absolute shit. That was supposed to change when she got older, and it did. It got worse.

Now she goes from bleeding, and hormones, and feeling like absolute shit to all of that plus a burning fever, a deep and primal yearning for a mate, and the endless urge to hump something until it breaks. And break it again.

When you got together, Enid fell in love with you fast and hard. In no time she was writing 'Y/n my Mate' in hearts instead of just 'Y/n + Enid' in hearts and daydreaming about your life down the road together.

When she first thought to herself that maybe you'd even spend her heat with her, she popped that bubble quick and shook it out of her head. no. that would be dangerous and bad.

She could hurt you, she could scare you off, she's broken her bed frame on her own before and could definitely break you by accident. That would so not be a good way to convince you she'd be a great mate.

Her plan was great. Her plan was safe. She was going to ignore you for her entire heat so she couldn't be mean to you (when it's just starting she can say some hurtful things, bad enough for her brothers to shut up and could make Wednesday proud), and no way of her hurting you.

It was great.

Until you showed up at her dorm and she wanted to cry because her mate was here and wanted to take care of her and she did start crying and you held her in your arms because you're the best mate ever and then she thought maybe it would be okay for you to stay for a few days. Until she gets worse.

She swore she would make you leave once her heat really started coming into effect. For now you could comfort her and hold her and it'd be no problem, that alone honestly did bring her a lot of relief, you being by her side and caring for her.

Her plan was sound. And you're so doting and wonderful and the perfect mate that a little part of her purposely ignored the signs and she snuggled into your embrace and breathed in your scent

When she woke up it was already too late.

The heat in her room was unbearable, her silky pajamas felt like sandpaper but the only thing that really mattered was getting release.

She had started growling in her sleep awhile before, teeth longer and having gone from nuzzling into your neck to scraping her fangs long it and saliva drooling down against you.

The shift in her had been quick, cuddling against you had turned to her still sleeping form purposely pining you to the bed beneath her, and by the time Enid woke up your leg was soaked from her humping your thigh.

She adjusts herself for a better angle to drag along your leg, pressing closer for more friction and groans.

She swore she would kick you out, but now the thought of you trying to leave has her seeing red without you even having moved.

"Mine" she growls into your ear and picks up her pace, claws coming out and pressing against you, pricking into her mattress as she chases her high enough to have the bed shaking.

She cums with a low drawl out groan that makes your throat go dry. Aftershocks leave her twitching while bent over you, her hair is a sweaty mess and hot breaths panting in your face and for a moment you think she feels better, that she got some relief.

"Fuck me." She looks up at you with blown pupils and crazed eyes, her voice gravely and deep like you have never heard before and the moment to admire her is too long because she adds "Fuck me, or I'll make you fuck me myself."

You've never seen Enid so frenzied and you're not sure you'll be allowed to make it out of this alive, and when she yanks you into sitting up, sharp claws shredding through your shirt and nicking your flesh while she tries to tear your pants, you're not sure if you care about that either.

When she really goes into heat, she wants it rough. She will use you and bruise you without noticing, the burn between her legs and need for more clouds out everything else.

Her werewolf strength is out without meaning to be, she doesn't even notice.

She wants to scent you, she wants to be drowned in your scent, she wants you to bite her.

It doesn't matter that you're not a werewolf, you're her mate and that's all that matters. Sink your teeth into her and her moan will almost become a howl of ecstasy.

She craves all of you, kisses and plain closeness too, but that's just as harsh with her teeth knocking against yours and a bruising kiss after another.

Usually Enid's moans and whines are extremely cute, high pitched and sweet, in her heat she sounds like a rabid animal with her voice in a worked up growl.

Almost forgets your name and couldn't care less about hers, calls you her Mate, chanting the word as she rides you, staring into your eyes.

Anything you say is lost to the blood rushing in her ears.

She wants you to fuck her as hard as you can, soft and sweetness can be for every other time, in her heat you will either give her what she needs or she will get it by herself.

She craves closeness, needing you pressed against her, wants you to pin her down, press you both into the mattress and be as close as possible. She needs you.

Normally she loves when you eat her out but there's not time for that, fuck her or fist her but your arm hurt so much.

Her claws are out the entire time, your back is shredded and stings no matter how you move, her mattress needs replaced and there's gashes in the wall.

She can go for a few hours straight before she calms down enough to rest, and even then she's in a heart eyed bliss and doesn't want you to leave her side.

If she even thinks you're going to leave her she will be up in an instant and ask "Where do you think you're going?" "You're not trying to leave me are you? ARE YOU?" extremely possessive but if you don't get some water she might actually be the death of you.

When she finally calms down you're too sore to move and she seems blissfully content, laying with her head over your heart and sounding like she's purring, a sweet smile on her face and long fluttering lashes as she's falling asleep.

Luckily for your lifeline, her heat is significantly shorter when riding it out with someone and getting what she craves instead of by herself.

The morning after she's finally come to her senses, the heat wearing off to a bearable pulse and back in her right mind, Enid is horrified.

Her room smells horrible, her bed looks like carnage of a wild animal's attack, and you, oh god.

She panics not knowing what she did and wakes you up and you expect she's ready for another round, when you actually did collapse a few hours prior, but instead she's looking over you panicked, seeing her claw marks, bruises littering your skin, her fluids all over you...

In that stressed out observation she also feels quite a bit of pride before being horrified with herself again and running out to get a first aid kit and some water.

In the bathroom she catches her reflection in the mirror and her face, which had finally calmed with her fever gone, turns bright cherry and she can't help but stare at herself a moment, hands clutching the small first aid box tight enough for the plastic to crack.

There's numerous bite marks along her shoulders and neck, some dark bruises and some healing punctures and she remembers demanding you bite her harder. Harder. Heat crawls up her neck just thinking around it.

Her own hips have fading bruises, her lips and positively swollen and she looks mussed as if she'd been in a fight. There's hickeys down her chest and really everywhere else, scratches down her back from your nails and she realizes that she's completely nude.

And despite the fact she's been that since her true heat started, she lets out a cute "eep!" you hear from the other room and chuckle because she's back.

When she returns she's thrown on an oversized shirt and you almost want to laugh at her sudden modesty.

She can't stop apologizing while patching you up, but you're just relieved it's over and barely staying awake trying to tell her it's okay.

You feel like you just went through a speedrun of the opposite of No Nut November and are glad werewolves only go into heat once a year.

Enid notes that she feels better than she ever has before after a heat, not just that the aching need is receding, but was actually taken care of, satisfied. The ache between her thighs is burning, her clit and pussy are definitely swollen, but she feels wonderful.

"is there like, some kind of steroid or potion I can get so I can try and keep up with you next time?" you weakly ask, half joking and half pleading that there is.

"Next time" is ringing in her head, you already plan on spending her next heat with her, her heart feels like bursting and if you weren't looking like you were on death's doorstep she'd jump your bones again right now.

You are sore. Full body muscle aches sore and exhausted, for at least two weeks afterwards while Enid's bounced back to normal within a day of it ending.

She's very apologetic and tries to do everything she can to help you out so you don't strain yourself further.

You definitely get teased for the most obvious, worn out, 'morning week after' but you can't really bring yourself to care.

You may want to thank your lucky stars that it'll still be a few years until she fully transforms during her heat.

#Enid Sinclair x reader #Enid Sinclair imagine #Wednesday x reader #Wednesday imagine #Enid Sinclair #my stuff

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sister-lucifer · 1 year

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Presenting (Part 1)

Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan x Familiar!Reader (Separately)

PART TWO

**PLEASE READ CONTEXT FOR FAMILIAR READER HERE**

Genre: Smut

Summary: When Familiars are in heat, they will occasionally “present” to their mate or potential mates to entice them. This can involve many things: stripping, exposing parts of the body such as the chest or thighs, posing in provocative ways, and much more.

How do the older brothers react when you present to them?

Reader is male

Content/Warnings: Catboy reader, sub reader, mentions of heat, sort of shy reader, mentions of scent

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors

Lucifer

Lucifer spends most of his time at home at his desk, so of course that’s where he was when you walked in. You peaked around the door sheepishly, tail swaying slowly behind you.

“Yes, Familiar?” Lucifer asked. He hadn’t even looked up at you, it was as if he sensed you there.

You didn’t reply. You walked over to his desk and stood by his side, silently asking for his attention. This managed to get him to look up at you, and when he did he almost did a double take. He immediately picked up on the sweet smell, the one you only emit when you’re in heat.

You were wearing one of his button up shirts, and beneath it was only your boxer briefs.

Lucifer couldn’t help but stare for a moment, but he managed to snap out of it before it became awkward.

“Ahem…Do you need something, familiar?”

He said as he swiveled his chair towards you.

Still you gave no reply, but you did move towards him slowly. You climbed up and into his lap. The entire time, Lucifer hardly moved a muscle.

You settled on top of him and looked up at him with those adorable doe eyes you knew he couldn’t resist. He let out a shaky sigh, just loud enough for your twitching ears to pick up on.

Then you moved your hands to the hem of your shirt, gripping it tight as you carefully watched Lucifer’s face for any sign of opposition. When you found none, you began to lift. You were in no hurry, letting him take in every inch of newly exposed skin as it appeared to him.

You put the fabric between your teeth, biting down and keeping it lifted above your chest.

Lucifer’s eyes flickered with something dark as they met yours. He merely stared down at you for a long few moments, taking in your perfect form. He reached out a slow hand, resting it on your side, dragging it upwards and making you shiver under his touch. It rubbed over your chest before falling down to your navel, tracing the thick ring of fur around your neck that tapered down at your stomach before filling out into a thick happy trail that disappeared into your shorts. His hand stopped just short of the waistband before pulling away.

You were clearly presenting to him.

‘Flattered’ would be a monumental understatement.

“If you were in heat, you simply could’ve told me, you know.” He muttered. Both of his hands laid on your hips now, giving a small squeeze.

You purred in response, letting the soft rumble vibrate in your throat.

Lucifer leaned in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead, warm breath fanning over your skin as he spoke.

“If this is your way of enticing me to mate, I’m more than happy to oblige, little familiar.”

Mammon

As usual, Mammon was simply wasting time. He flipped idly through a magazine, TV playing whatever trash reality show he had chosen in the background. He was very good at getting deeply invested in nothing.

His focus was suddenly broken by the sweet smell wafting into his room.

He looked up, glancing around in confusion when his eyes landed on his calendar. It was the last week of the month, which meant is was the prime time for—

Oh.

That smell was you.

As if on cue you came trotting into his room, shutting the door behind you. Your hands were hidden in the sleeves of the oversized sweater you were wearing, which squeezed around your thighs just perfectly.

He sat up straight, eyes locked onto you as you meandered over to the bed, long tail moving to and fro lazily as it followed you.

You sat in front of him, looking up at him through your lashes. He was trying to stay calm and keep his tough guy persona on, but with each breath he took he inhaled more of your scent, and it was driving him crazy already.

“Oh, uh, h-hey! Wasn’t expecting you, familiar. Usually you text before visiting…” He said with a forced chuckle. His face felt so hot, he was sure you could feel the warmth radiating off of him.

“I know, but there wasn’t any time…” You replied softly.

You put your hands on his knees, spreading his legs enough for you to sit between them. You slowly dipped your head downwards, keeping eye contact with the very flustered Mammon the entire time. Your lips just barely brushed over the bulge in his pants which was only becoming more prominent each passing second.

“H-Hey, what d’ya think you’re doing?” Mammon chided, but his words did not match his behavior. He spread his legs even more for you, his magazine long forgotten on the floor. He didn’t even realize it had fallen.

Your tail waved straight up in the air, and you made sure to arch your back, showing off the way your shorts constricted around your ass. You wiggled your hips playfully, teasing the demon. You stayed still, allowing Mammon to take you in in all your glory.

“Oh, what are you doing…?” Mammon groaned, hiding his face in his hands. You were being so shameless! You were supposed to be the flustered one, not him!

And yet, your delicious scent surrounding him combined with the sight of you behaving so pliantly made his ears go hot.

When he didn’t say anything more, it was your turn to speak.

“Be my mate, Mammon?”

Your question was barely above a whisper, but it was more than loud enough in his ears. Finally he worked up the courage to pull his hand away, placing it gently on your head and scratching behind your ears.

“Sure, familiar…You can have The Great Mammon as your mate. But ya gotta promise to warn me the next time you present like that! Nearly gave me a heart attack…No, no! Don’t stop!”

Leviathan

Normally Leviathan hated being interrupted when he was deeply invested in an episode of whatever anime he was into at the time, but when he realized it was you standing in his doorway his demeanor completely changed.

“Oh, it’s you! Come sit down!” He insisted, patting the bed next to him. “Quick, before you miss the good part!”

You happily obliged, settling in next to him and leaning your head on his shoulder as he rambled on about the plot of this episode.

“You should really sit down and watch it with me sometime! You’d love it, really. I just got to the big season two twist, and I don’t wanna spoilt anything, but— but…b-but…” His voice fizzled out, an odd sense of nervousness washing over him. It took him a moment to realize what it was, but when he did he nearly fainted.

He turned towards you, taking a small sniff of your hair to confirm his theory:

You were in heat, and he could smell it all over you.

He was already getting hard in his pants, becoming incredibly aroused in an embarrassingly short amount of time. He squeezed his legs together tight, trying his best to be subtle about it (although subtlety was never his forte).

Even the smallest bit of affection or flirting was enough to shut Levi’s brain down. This was a whole new level. Like, a Mega Boss Battle type level. Times a million.

One of your hands wandered to his where it rested on his lap, interlocking your fingers and giving his hand a gentle squeeze. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to pull a whine out of him.

“U-Um, familiar? Are you s-sure you should be here right now?” He stuttered, eyes darting all around the room. He was looking for any excuse not to make eye contact with you.

“Do you not want me here, Levi?”

The question was genuine, that much was for sure, and it sent Levi into a mini panic.

“Of course I do! I-I always do! Not that I, like, t-think about it or anything, s-so why even bring it up? Haha..hah…oh god—“

You couldn’t stifle the small giggle that arose at Levi’s frantic over explaining. Fortunately, you knew the best way to get him to shut up.

You moved in front of him, putting your hands on his chest and gently encouraging him to lay down. He was in no position to deny you, so he obeyed.

He swallowed thickly as he stared up at the ceiling, trying his best to keep his breathing steady and fully process everything that had just happened. He didn’t have much time, though, as soon he could feel you moving around on the bed.

When he got the courage to lift his head you were straddling his waist, facing away from him as your tail flicked side to side in an alternating rhythm. His hands gripped hard onto his sheets.

You began lowering your upper body, slowly crawling outwards with your hips still resting firmly over Levi’s. He shivered at the slight friction it caused, reminding him how desperately his hard on needed attention. Once you had settled into a comfortable position, you let out a small, high pitched sigh of content.

If anyone knew about catboy behavior, it was Levi, and he certainly knew when he was being presented to. He’d imagined a scenario like this a few times before, but it didn’t hold a candle to the real thing.

He made sure he took in every detail; the lovely swell of your ass, the delicate curve of your back as you arched it, the way your nails dug into the sheets the same way his did.

God how he wished he had a camera on him. He would keep that photo forever.

“Levi…?” Your sweet voice called out as you looked back at him. He finally turned his attention towards your face, although he was still unable to look you in the eyes.

Everything about you was tugging at his heart strings. Even in moments like these, you managed to be adorable, and it was too much.

“Oh, goodness…” He mumbled, “I-I’ve never been…presented to before…”

A shaky hand reached up to gently wrap around your tail, toying with the sensitive appendage. Levi didn’t miss the small mewl you let out at the touch.

“You’re…You’re so pretty, sweet boy…I would be honored to be your mate.”

if enough people request it i might make a part 2

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me smut #obey me x male reader #male reader #catboy au #cat boy reader #lucifer obey me #lucifer x reader smut #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #mammon obey me #mammon x reader #mammon smut #leviathan obey me #leviathan x reader #leviathan smut

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