oscar-lettjohanssonloveme - Tumblr blog

oscar-lettjohanssonloveme · 6 months

Text

Curled Up Together (Leonora Lesso x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Sharing a bed with you was not something Lesso ever wanted to do.

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: Some swearing

Lesso was going to curse Dovey. There was no two ways about it. No one would be able to convince her otherwise because she had been dropped in her own personal version of hell and it was all Dovey’s fault.

You sighed and she froze. Eyes dragging down to you she felt her jaw clench. You were curled up on your side, facing towards her, and she had no idea how you were asleep. It seemed sharing a bed with the Dean for the School of Evil had no effect on you and it made her blood boil.

In the moonlight she could see the curve of your eyebrow, the shadows from your eyelashes on your cheek, the thin skin of your eyelids moving as you dreamt. You were heartbreakingly beautiful in sleep and you’d never know.

Dovey had done this. Dovey had forced the two of you to take the room together by her inability to be accommodating. Dovey was at fault for the absolute hell she was going through.

She couldn’t help but take another glance at you. Your lips were parted, looking entirely too tempting, and your breathing was even. She could feel the ghost of your breath on her shoulder. your body heat rolled towards her under the covers and suddenly it was hard for her to breathe. You were close enough to touch.

She rolled over, presenting her back to you, tugging on the covers to try and take more than her fair share. You made a small noise but that was it. Even in sleep you never fought back with her. You remained calm and still, letting her do as she wished until she tired herself out. It infuriated her. It intrigued her. She wanted more of it.

She felt you shuffle over the mattress. Your fingers brushed against her back and your breath ghosted over her neck. She froze again, hoping you would move away. You only shuffled closer, seeking out the warmth she had stolen from you.

Oh yes, this was all Dovey’s fault. Just because the leaking roof had displaced you both from your rooms over in the other school didn’t mean Dovey could shove you into a room together that happened to only have one bed. As if the pink frills weren’t enough. She was being tortured for an evil she had committed. That had to be what this was.

She practically jumped out of the bed when she felt your nose brush against the back of her neck. On the furtherest edge of the bed, she clung to the mattress to keep from toppling out all together, but she had to put some space between the two of you or she would go mad.

Dovey must have seen the way her eyes lingered on you whenever you were in the room. She must had heard the soft tone in her voice whenever your name came up. She must have watched the way she smiled when you talked to her.

Yes, this had to be some devious match making plan on the part of the other dean. There was no doubt about it. She probably thought she was doing the right thing, but was only making it worse. There was no way this ended well for anyone.

You hadn’t seemed to have noticed any of those things. You’d been oblivious to the way you snagged her attention, the way you occupied a different part of her brain to everyone else, the way you were special. You had no idea Leonora had a crush on you and she was hoping to keep it that way.

You grumbled something, shifting even closer to her warm body. She couldn’t move lest she fall out of the bed, but you were right there and just the brush of skin would make her head spin. Another grumble fell from your lips, ending in a sigh. You shifted again, giving her a little more room, but then you stilled.

“Am I pushing you out of the bed?” you asked, voice slurring from sleep.

“Not at all,” she replied stiffly.

“You’re about to fall out.”

Your hand shot out in the dark, snagging her wrist. You tugged and she let you pull her back onto the bed properly. With the other hand you rubbed at your eye. In the moonlight she’d never seen anything more beautiful than a sleep rumpled you.

“Did you steal all the covers?” you asked.

“Well, I am evil, love,” she said then immediately regretted the use of a pet name.

“Then I should have pushed you out of the bed.” Your lazy smile made her heart constrict painfully.

“You little demon,” she groused but there was no fire behind it. It was shockingly close to fondness. You blinked at her and if she’d less control over herself then her cheeks might have flushed.

“If you give them back I’ll stop pushing you out,” you bargained.

She sighed, redistributing the covers until you were covered too. You let out a contented sigh, snuggling down into the soft mattress again. She turned her head to look at you, only to find your eyes already watching her, peeking just out from the top of the covers.

“You’ll never sleep if you don’t relax,” you eventually said.

“You’ll have to excuse me if sharing a bed with someone is less than ideal for me,” she snapped.

“Sorry.”

She fought against the impulse to pinch the bridge of her nose. Your eyes were wide and worried, a flash of hurt passing over them. You shuffled away from her, giving her even more space. The gap between your bodies was a gaping hole, and there was a moment of desperate disappointment seizing her.

But she couldn’t apologise. The Dean of Evil didn’t apologise for hurt feelings. That would be a step too far. And would definitely let you know about her feelings. Which she did not want in any way, shape, or form.

“If you want I can make up a bed on the floor? Let you have the bed to yourself,” you offered, sitting up, covers pooling around your waist.

In the moonlight, your skin practically glowed. Long arms and low cut chemise. It was a veritable feast for her eyes and it was with great effort that she pulled her eyes away. Rumpled hair fell about your shoulders and her mouth grew dry.

“That’s not necessary,” she managed to spit out.

You looked down at her, bottom lip worried between teeth. She would have groaned at the sight if not for the fact that you would hear.

“I don’t want to be the reason you’re crankier than usual in the morning,” you said. Her heart thumped extra hard as a small sparkle lit up your eyes.

Her hand shot up, grasping your shoulder. Your warm skin under the touch of her fingers had her digging her nails in, surprised at her reaction. The shoulder wasn’t a particularly sexual body part, but your skin was soft and delicate and she wanted to sink her teeth into it.

She tugged you down, until you were lying beside her again. You huffed out a laugh and that sent a thrill through her. Dovey could never get such a sound from you. In the shadow of night it went right through her, so intimate, so close. Her fingers were still on your shoulder. She retracted them, almost caressing your skin as she took her hand back. Your laughter cut off and your eyes turned to her.

“Sleep,” she commanded, turning away from you.

“Goodnight, Lady Lesso,” you whispered across the space.

She did her best to ignore you. You shifted, then again, a tug on the covers, before you grew still. She listened to your breathing slowly evening out, trying to pace her own to yours. Maybe it helped. With her eyes squeezed closed she could feel her muscles begin to relax, the sound of your breathing helping lull her to sleep.

When Lesso awoke, she was warm and comfortable. Arms curled around her waist and there was a nose softly brushing against the skin of her neck. Something soft pressed along her spine, shifting closer, legs tangling together. Her entire body felt as if it was melting into the mattress and for the first time ever she hadn’t woken up grumpier than she’d gone to bed. She allowed the other body to curl around her, drifting back into a doze.

A soft murmur, lips brushing over her shoulder, fingertips slipping under the hem of her shirt to rest on the soft skin of her stomach. She arched into the touch, not bothering to think about it too much, enjoying the feeling of it. Like electricity on her skin, burrowing into her veins to set her alight.

“Lesso,” you sighed, sweet and drowsy, lips managing to brush the skin of her neck, body pressing into her.

Her eyes snapped opened and she froze. The lazy relaxation in her muscles was gone, and her mind was already racing. You sighed her named again, pressing closer, pulling her towards you. Your hand slipped further up her body, flames licking through the ice settling in her veins.

She considered pulling out of your hold, unsure if you were awake or not. If you were, she would have to face the fact she had slept wrapped up in your arms, if you weren’t there was no way of getting out without waking you up. There was no winning.

“Relax,” you murmured, and she wondered if she was being tortured for something. The drowsy timbre of your voice was addictive, rough like sandpaper and yet soft like silk.

Your arms tightened around her, nose running along the length of her neck. Your lips brushed along her pulse point and she shivered. You hummed, melting against her again.

“Stop it,” she snapped, pulling out of your hold.

She sat up, staring down at you, cheeks flushing and eyes flashing. Your mouth had fallen open, eyes widening, and you looked like every single one of those princesses in the other school, waiting to be saved by their princes.

She was no prince.

“Don’t touch me,” she growled.

“Sorry,” you said, scrambling away from her, “sorry.”

“Just…” She pressed the hell of her palms to her eyes, “fuck.”

She felt you jump before a thump sounded in the room, loud and all consuming. Looking up, she found you on the ground beside the bed, looking surprised at your own predicament. Laughter bubbled over her lips, and despite the embarrassment and fear curdling in her stomach, she couldn’t help it. The look on your face was perhaps the most adorable thing she’d ever seen.

Which, being the Dean of Evil, should not have made her begin to relax at all.

“Come on.”

She extended her hand, offering you help back onto the mattress and off the cold, hard floor. Your hand in hers reminded her of the feeling of your fingers on her stomach. She pulled you up, a little harder than she meant to, sending you toppling towards her. An arm caught you around the waist, and Lesso realised being pressed against you from the front was just as intoxicating as from the back.

Her eyes met yours, and for the first time it was as if she could consider that maybe whatever was going through your head might be close to what was going through hers. You were staring at her, lips parted, eyes molten. Her arm tightened around your waist.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

You tried to pull out of her arms. She refused, tightening it further until the space between the two of you had disappeared. Staring down at you, she was trying to read the emotion in your eyes behind the rising panic.

“I don’t…” You struggled against her hold, “it’s… I’m just… It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” she replied, voice lowering into something resembling gravel.

“It is.” Your voice was getting higher.

“I’m telling you it’s not,” she growled.

“I’m sorry.”

“Fuck this.”

She grasped your face, pulling you in for a long drawn out kiss. There was a moment, one she knew would be burned into her brain, when you melted against her, hands seeking out her waist. She shivered when your hands found their way under her shirt again, seeking out warm skin to map.

Your tongue brushed against her lower lip, and she groaned. She couldn’t stop touching you, wanting to know every single inch of you with the same intimacy she had with villainy. Your hands were strong as they pushed her back, straddling her lap as you kissed her deeper. Her fingers trailed up your legs, pushing past the hem of your nightgown and you whimpered. You actually whimpered.

She was going to have to remember that for next time.

Your lips were trailing down her neck, finding her pulse point again. Your hands were pushing further up her shirt, exposing her skin to the cool morning air. Your name fell from her lips like a prayer and she was ready to worship you.

“I’m glad I convinced Dovey to put us into one room,” you murmured into the skin of her neck.

“Yes,” she hissed before the words managed to penetrate the cloud of lust, “what?”

She sat up so suddenly you fell back, landing on her shins. She was glaring at you, and all you did was smile. It was infuriating. Anyone else would cower under that look but you seemed to preen.

“You asked Dovey to put us into this room together?” she demanded.

“It wasn’t so much asking. More like, dropping subtle hints for weeks until she thought it was her own idea,” you replied with a small shrug and a mischievous smile.

“That’s devious.” She couldn’t help the grin spreading over her own face.

“Do I pass?” you asked, sliding up her legs again until you were in her lap.

“Top of the class,” she replied, leaning towards you.

Her next kiss was searing, wanting you to feel the fire you’d ignited in her. So soft, so seemingly innocent, so beautiful. She’d never wanted anything more than she wanted you. You moaned into her mouth, fanning the flames until she felt a desperation she was unused to. She wanted you in every possible way, at every moment of the day, for the rest of forever.

Which, if she thought too much about it, would feel entirely too much like the true love those simpering Evers craved so much.

628 notes · View notes

oscar-lettjohanssonloveme · 1 year

Text

The Professor

Ship: Professor!Carol Aird x Student! Reader

Word count: 400+

Warnings: None

Synopsis: Reader comes back for another semester, and reunites with their favourite teacher.

Keep reading

218 notes · View notes

oscar-lettjohanssonloveme · 1 year

Note

Hello! I just read a lot of your stuff and you’re amazing at writing, thank you for making my night better! <33 I hope you have a amazing week 💕💕

ohhhh you're so cute :,) thank you :333

0 notes

oscar-lettjohanssonloveme · 1 year

Text

does anyone know where i can watch Tár? 😩😩😩

#tár film #cate blanchett

2 notes · View notes

oscar-lettjohanssonloveme · 2 years

Text

Incorrect Quote

Nat: WHO ATE MY BREAD?!

Nat: I'M GOING TO FUCKING K-

Y/N: I did?

Nat: Kiss you and buy some more, you haven't been eating anything today Y/N. *walks away*

Y/N:

Y/N: She's gone, Clint.

Clint, coming out of the vents with bread stuffed in his mouth: Twankh uh!

6K notes · View notes

oscar-lettjohanssonloveme · 2 years

Note

Please tell me you didn’t abandon the little!reader x Mildred Ratched fic …. Please….

sorry it's been a long long time- is sb still interested in this fic xD?

13 notes · View notes

oscar-lettjohanssonloveme · 2 years

Text

“you're my property.”

Lilith Ritter x fem!reader

summary: You just want her attention. She is your boss, you're her secretary. Smut, smut, smut.

warnings: smut. minors pls go away <3- a bit of bdsm, fingering, titles, a disgusting man

taglist: @paulawand @rainbow-hedgehog @peggycarter-steverogers @razorscooteer @aviolentdaydream @lokigirlszendaya @d14n4ol

•google translate•

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

For half an hour you sat nervously behind your desk, jumping up and down with your left leg.

You wanted here. You needed her.

Summarized:

You missed her.

Pathetically, you lived up to every cliché of the secretary getting fucked by her boss. What was even more pathetic was that you were not ashamed of it

When your patience finally ran out, you got up from the desk and walked to the big door.

You listened for a moment. Nothing could be heard, just silence.

You quietly opened the door and stuck your head inside.

Lilith Ritter sat at her desk and wrote some documents. She had crossed her long legs and didn't let you bother her.

At first you thought she hadn't noticed that you had opened the door, but then she mumbled:

"You forgot to knock."

Immediately you blushed and your self-confidence dwindled a bit.

"I'm sorry, doctor."

She hummed disapprovingly and shook her pen.

"I thought I taught you better manners."

Her blue eyes flew to you and aa always looked at you mesmerizingly. There was something in her eyes that made you go crazy all the time.

"What do you want?" she asked in a brisk voice.

Damn it. You hadn't imagined it like that and you certainly wouldn't get what you wanted now.

"Forget it, it doesn't matter."

"Certainly not."

She put down her pen and frowned at you.

"You come in without knocking, interrupting my work, and then you don't tell me what you want. If your intention was to piss me off, just keep going and you'll see what you get out of it."

You blinked, totally overwhelmed by her words.

"I uhm- I just wanted to tell you I really miss you," you mumbled, quickly and quietly. Too quiet.

"Sorry?"

"I miss you."

You shifted nervously from one leg to the other and stared down at your feet.

She hummed again.

"And now?"

"Uhm- Can I come in again maybe?"

An amused smile twitched her lips, at least that's what you thought you saw when you looked back at her.

She rested her elbows on the table and clasped her hands over her red-painted mouth.

"Try it again."

You closed the door again and took a deep breath. Your face burned with embarrassment and you ran nervous fingers down your skirt.

You raised your fingers to the large wooden door and knocked softly.

"Come in," her voice commanded, and you smiled a little relieved as you opened the door and stepped into the room.

As if the conversation had never happened before, she sat undeterred at her desk and continued to write her document.

"What can I do for you, Y/N?" she asked, frowning at you.

"I missed you, ma'am," you repeated your words from just now.

She pursed her lips.

"Do we have a little attentionwhore here?" she asked you in a low voice and immediately your cheeks burned even more.

"I'm afraid so," you whispered.

"Mhh but mommy is busy right now."

Dutifully you nodded.

"I know."

For a few seconds she just stared at you and tried to read you.

"Come here," she finally commanded, waving a single finger.

You ran through her office with fast legs, around her desk and stood next to her.

"Sit on the floor. I want your head in my lap."

She pushed back her chair and briefly patted the velvet fabric of her black skirt before turning back to her work and writing.

Immediately you sat down with your bottom on the floor and rested your head on her slender leg.

"Kneel," she commanded quietly, reminding you how you were supposed to sit.

You idiot, you thought to yourself and immediately knelt down. So many times you had knelt on the floor for her and now you had just forgotten.

"Good girl," she murmured, lost in concentration on her work.

Her free hand started combing through your hair. Her nails were painted a blood red, almost as dark as the lipstick she wore.

You became sleepy at the feeling and closed your eyes. You would probably have fallen asleep, but always just before that could happen, she gently pulled your hair to wake you up again.

It felt like you were her doll. Your body responded to her touch just the way she wanted it to. Like she knew exactly when you were about to fall asleep and then pulled your hair.

The situation was somehow very intimate, not much really happened. Lilith seemed to be in the right mood today because normally she would just have coldly dismissed you or punished you outright for forgetting to knock.

Her hand finally let go of your hair after a few minutes and you heard her pen closed.

Without warning, she suddenly rose from her chair, making you wince.

You watched with shy eyes as she walked over to the small side table by the window and poured her $300 whiskey into a crystal glass before putting the glass to her lips.

Her gaze never left you and you finally had to direct your eyes to the ground in front of you intimidated.

You wanted to get off the floor too, as your knees were starting to hurt, but you knew better.

You heard her heels run over the expensive package and she was right in front of you.

Her hand cupped your chin and lifted your head, allowing her blue eyes to hypnotize you again.

"You're such a good puppy for me, aren't you?" she murmured, rubbing her thumb across your bottom lip.

You blushed with pride when she complimented you. Sweet words were rather atypical from the psychologist.

Her blond hair fell like a curtain over her face and the way you knelt in front of her, it almost seemed like an angel had appeared to you.

You opened your mouth slightly to let her thumb in.

"Continue," she commanded softly, and you obeyed her.

She shoved her entire finger into your mouth and gently pressed it onto your tongue.

Like the good puppy you were, you sucked on her finger, not daring to break eye contact with her.

Her cold blue eyes made you so nervous. But it was a nervousness that made you happy.

You could never tell exactly what was behind the woman's beautiful facade with Lilith, but you knew that you were safe in her hands and that despite her severity, she would never cross your boundaries.

She finally pulled her thumb out of you before walking away from you again and placing her empty glass on the table.

The tall blonde then walked to the couch to sit on it and then gestured to the empty seat next to her.

"Come here," she commanded softly and you immediately got up with shaky legs to run to her.

Totally shy and unsure of what was going to happen, you sat down next to her.

"Knees up," she commanded, and you pulled your knees up to your chest.

She grinned and put her hands on your sore knees, which were already red and aching.

"Oh just look at that," she murmured, planting a small kiss on your left knee.

Your breath was shallow. You had no idea what would happen now. That was another quality that characterized Lilith: her illegibility.

As if she had heard your thoughts, her eyes suddenly flew to you and flashed you dangerously.

Her gaze was always like that. For a long time you had wondered whether she could look friendly at all, or whether her eyes were so evil by nature.

By now you knew that wasn't the case. Only once did you see her differently. It was the night you first saw her naked.

You shyly asked her about the scar on her chest when you were finally lying next to each other in bed late that night.

At first you assumed she wouldn't tell you, but she did.

Her gaze was then free of the usual harshness and all you could see was sadness and regret as she told you the horrific story of her mark.

You had climbed onto her and left sweet kisses on her scar: a desperate attempt to make her feel how beautiful she was in your eyes.

She then lifted your chin and smiled at you. And it wasn't her fake, charming smile that she used to seduce everyone. It was real and loving, just like her gaze had been full of love.

By now you knew that she always looked at you like that behind her strict facade and that even now when her eyes flashed up at you and was actually more scary than loving.

Her pale hands grabbed the waistband of your skirt and you lifted your bottom so she could remove the piece of clothing. You wore nothing underneath, simply because she wanted it that way and you were hers.

Your skirt landed on the floor and her hands spread your knees before she climbed onto the couch too and took a seat between your legs.

Her eyes fixed on you as always as if you were her prey as she bent over you and her hand landed on your cheek.

"I love you," you burst out and made her smile.

"You're too sweet," she murmured before bending down and pressing her lips against yours.

Her kisses were always demanding and full of dominance, she always knew exactly what she wanted to do with you.

A moan left your lips and was caught in her mouth as her hand slipped between your legs and found your clit.

Suddenly the phone started to ring.

A frustrated sigh left your lips as Lilith slipped gracefully off the couch, leaving you confused and needy.

Calm as ever, she answered the phone.

"Doctor Lilith Ritter, how can I help you?" Her voice sounded professional.

"Ah Mister Fisher."

You heard her greet the disgusting patient who often called just to talk to you. You usually take care of her calls, but you've obviously been busy right now.

"No, I have absolutely no idea why Miss Y/L/N didn't answer your call," you heard her voice bright.

"She doesn't seem to be doing her job very well, I'll have to talk to her."

You put your head back and watched anxiously as she walked over to you, the disc phone in hand.

"You're absolutely right, she is a bad girl", she agreed with the stupid man and put the phone next to the whiskey on the side table and clamped the device between her shoulder and her cheek.

"Oh yes, she's wearing that skirt again."

Lilith bent over you again and enjoyed your tortured facial expression with a smile. Her hand slid back between your legs to continue where you left off.

A choked sigh left your tightened lips.

Her other hand flew to your mouth to cover it. She stared at you warningly.

"In 15 minutes? Alright. See you soon."

She put the receiver back on the phone and bent over you again.

Dangerous blue eyes found yours again and looked at you hungrily.

"The asshole has decided to visit my office now," she murmured softly.

"Seems like we're going to have to move this."

You pouted in disappointment.

"15 minutes, right? That's enough time."

A sadistic smile danced on her lips.

"Maybe it would even be a good idea for him to see you like that. Then he'll finally leave you alone when he knows you're mine."

Her red lips found your throat as she began sucking on the tender skin to leave stains.

Your hands caught in her blond hair. The idea of this man finding you like this made you nervous. At the same time, you felt ashamed that it made you excited too.

"You're my precious property," Lilith growled against your neck, rubbing your clit angrily.

"Every time he looks at you with those hungry eyes, I could kill him."

A pathetic whimper left your lips. You realized again how much your body really belonged to her.

She knew exactly how to touch you to mess you up like that.

Her hand flew to your neck and she pulled you back up to look into your eyes.

You felt miserable. Her blue eyes stared down at you in amusement.

She enjoyed seeing you like this and wasn't ashamed of it either.

"Are you going to come for your mommy?" she asked sneering.

"Like a little slut, yes?"

You nodded desperately.

"Yes ma'am," you whimpered, feeling yourself getting closer to your climax.

You had to bite your cheek to keep from screaming out loud as your cheeks rolled into the back of your head and you shivered into orgasm.

The smile on Lilith's lips grew. Normally she didn't let you cum like that but in a few minutes this idiot would come and she would be dying of jealousy already and that's why she wanted to give you something to remember first.

"What does a good girl say now?" she asked, gently tugging at your hair.

"Thanks ma'am," you gasped, coming down from your high.

That's all you wanted when you knocked on her door earlier.

The blonde kissed your forehead again and murmured:

"My good little puppy."

Before she straightened up and straightened her skirt again.

"Get up now, the asshole will be here in a few minutes."

As if nothing had happened, the blonde floated across the room to her bathroom to reapply her lipstick.

You slid off her lounger on shaky legs. You stood there trembling and grabbed your skirt to pull it back over your legs.

A little awkwardly you walked to her desk to get a handkerchief from the dispenser.

You grabbed the gold hand mirror that was also on her desk and began to rub away the stains of her lipstick on your neck.

"What do you think are you doing?" her shrill voice called out as she came back into her office.

You looked at her confused.

"I- I'm cleaning up the mess, ma'am."

"You stupid thing," she murmured and laughed out loud.

"You leave my lipstick on your neck, I didn't mark you for nothing. I want them to see that you're my property."

#lilith ritter x reader #cate blanchett x reader #lilith ritter #nightmare alley #myfic

333 notes · View notes

oscar-lettjohanssonloveme · 2 years

Text

“Gravity Falls in my favourite kids show!”

The kid’s show:

18K notes · View notes

oscar-lettjohanssonloveme · 2 years

Note

Nosy anons 8,9,10!!

yoo thank you <3

8: Want any tattoos?

hehe already got one ;) and yess I want more :P

9: Got any piercings?

nop not yet :((

10: Want any piercings?

definitely, I am about to get my nose pierced

#bottomsassemble

4 notes · View notes

oscar-lettjohanssonloveme · 2 years

Text

“but wanda enslaved a whole town, she’s a bad-“

507 notes · View notes

oscar-lettjohanssonloveme · 2 years

Text

nosy anons let's go

0: Height

1: Age

2: Shoe size

3: Do you smoke?

4: Do you drink?

5: Do you take drugs?

6: Age you get mistaken for

7: Have tattoos?

8: Want any tattoos?

9: Got any piercings?

10: Want any piercings?

11: Best friend?

12: Relationship status

13: Biggest turn ons

14: Biggest turn offs

15: Favorite movie

16: I’ll love you if…

17: Someone you miss

18: Most traumatic experience

19: A fact about your personality

20: What I hate most about myself

21: What I love most about myself

22: What I want to be when I get older

23: My relationship with my sibling(s)

24: My relationship with my parent(s)

25: My idea of a perfect date

26: My biggest pet peeves

27: A description of the girl/boy I like

28: A description of the person I dislike the most

29: A reason I’ve lied to a friend

30: What I hate the most about work/school

31: What my last text message says

32: What words upset me the most

33: What words make me feel the best about myself

34: What I find attractive in women

35: What I find attractive in men

36: Where I would like to live

37: One of my insecurities

38: My childhood career choice

39: My favorite ice cream flavor

40: Who I wish I could be

41: Where I want to be right now

42: The last thing I ate

43: Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately

44: A random fact about anything

2M notes · View notes

oscar-lettjohanssonloveme · 2 years

Text

i- wow- vampire venable?? this is smth i didn't know i needed- 🫣💕💕 i'll have bittersweet dreams tonight 🥰🥰

Godless Love (otherwise known as Vampire Venable)

|| of |||

prt. I

Wilhemina Venable x Reader

Words: 6596

WARNING: SMUT IN PART THREE, CATHOLIC GUILT, INTERNALIZED HOMOPHOBIA, RELIGIOUS IMAGERY, DEAD ANIMALS, READER EATS MEAT

a/n: This part is pretty much all dialogue. - I should probably actually read Mrs. Dalloway huh? Lol Also in the middle of using the text to speech thing to edit it just stopped working so I gave up hopefully there aren’t too many errors. 🤞

Taglist: @betchiwilleatyou , @talulahmae, @ninaahs,@setsuna1415,@golddustdykes,@simphousestuff , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @naomi-m3ndez , @cordeliass , @saucy-sapphic , @madamevirgo , @mrs-griffinlove-world, @slut-for-sarah , @paulsonsratched

Ask to be added no minors

Summary: uses she/her pronouns for the reader, because she is on her way to taking her first nun vows. This is sort of a revenge piece because I just recently decided to finally stop talking to my racist, homophobic generally bigoted Catholic father. I never became a Nun, I couldn’t, I’ve never been Catholic. But he would have loved it if I had.

The monster in front of you dissolved in an instant at the sound of your prayer and for a moment you felt your faith in your heavenly father restored - that was until she started to laugh. She threw her head back, her arms shook as she lost herself for a moment, laughing so hysterically you wondered if she could breathe. But then you wondered if she was even capable of breathing.

You sat still, as far back in the chair as you possibly could. Your thoughts were so out of control you couldn’t pin any of them down, of one thing you were certain; she wasn’t entirely human. Outside the snow was still stacked higher than you could see and still raging on. Inside you were trapped with you weren’t exactly sure who or what.

She stopped laughing and you braced yourself for her to bare those impossible teeth at you again, but she didn’t. Instead she shook her head in a way that let you know she was very amused, “You really thought the lord’s prayer was going to save you?” She asked, chuckled again and braced herself on the mantle of the fireplace nearly having another attack of laughter, but at the last moment she straightened herself and sighed.

“Well it worked.” You said in a meek little voice. Though now you were cursing yourself for not wearing your usual silver crucifix around your neck.

She clicked her tongue, “Huh,” She said, “I suppose you are right. Clever girl. Though I must warn you, not everything you read in books about us will help you, particularly of the religious variety.”

“So,” You coughed trying to hide your fear from her, but she could still smell it on you, “What are you?” You asked her.

She stretched out her neck as she looked at you and you noticed two puncture wounds quite close together beneath her ear, “An unholy terror of the night.” She said and grinned horribly wide so that it split the curve of her red lips like a wound where the white of her too sharp teeth pierced through. “A bloodsucking fiend!”

You nodded, "You mean a Vampire?” that made sense, perfect sense, totally reasonable, absolutely normal, neat, awesome. You thought you were simply dealing with a regualr eccentric crazy lady and it turned out she wasn’t even human. “Are you still planning on ….. Well I assume you were about to kill me, drink my blood, is that- is that still the plan?”

She chuckled again, then glanced at the ceiling, you marveled at the lack of a rise and fall in her chest, the way the light from the fire reflected off her stark white skin, truly she was an impossibly beautiful woman, monster, whatever. She turned from the fireplace back to you and heel to toe walked slowly forward. She placed her hands on the sides of the chair just like earlier and leaned forward. She took a good look at you, curled up with your back pressed deep into the back of the chair as though you were trying to phase through it, looking up at her with wide frightened eyes.

“Not tonight, my dear.”

“But..you will?” You asked, glancing outside at the storm knowing that you couldn’t survive out there and also knowing that if it were to die down she could probably very easily stop you from getting out or hide your coat from you which case you'd die anyway.

“I have yet to make up my mind.” She answered.

You nodded, just sitting there for a moment watching her, wondering what she was going to do.

“Is there anything I can say or do to convince you not to, maybe?” You asked, your voice small and shaky.

She went to sit down in the other chair across from you and once again spread her legs wide and laid her cane to rest beside it. She was taking up as much space as possible. The message was not lost on you. This was her territory and you were never safe here.

“I have not had the pleasure of a good conversation, in a long long time.” She said, dancing her fingers over the head of her cane.

“Are you asking me to talk to you?” You asked, flabbergasted.

“If you don’t mind. Unless you’d rather head up to bed?”

You swallowed thickly and she watched the bob of your throat with fixed fascination. You were fairly certain that you would not get any sleep that night even if you tried, so you answered, “No, I don’t think I could sleep.”

“Splendid.” She said and smiled wide showing you her sharp teeth. “So, last night you told me you did not have a choice in becoming a nun, but women have so many more choices these days, why do you feel you have no choice?”

“I-” This was her idea of a good conversation? Interrogating you on your life choices? Wasn’t she trying to decide whether or not she was going to suck you dry?

She waited for your answer patiently, not feeling the need to fill the silence. You watched the reflection of the fire flicker in her dark eyes, her long fingers tapping against the leather, she had endless patience.

“Expectations I guess..” You eventually said, “The only two options that would make my parents happy would be to see me married or to become a nun and I couldn’t get married..”

Her gaze dragged from your eyes down to your feet and back, she said, "Of course you couldn’t," and hummed affirmatively, which you did not understand.

“Well becoming a nun didn’t sound so bad..” You reasoned, “Living far away from other people, not having to deal with money or making my own decisions.”

She hummed, “Yes, of course, pesky free will, who needs it.” There was disdain there, you could see it in the narrowing of her eyes and her tongue poking the inside of her cheek.

“It's not as though I’d have a lot of free will being married, not in the kind of marriage they wanted for me.” You admitted.

She tipped her head to regard the ceiling, giving deep thought to your statement, “And in a convent the rules would be plainly laid out for you.” She said.

“Yes.”

“Was that all there was to it? Why wouldn’t you run away to some far off place and make your life your own?”

You frowned, “I didn’t want to disappoint them.” You said. “Is this a one way interrogation or can I ask my own questions?” You weren’t sure where your new found boldness was coming from, but you weren’t about to question it, not when her lips fell open in surprise and her tongue a vibrant bright pink poked out to wet them. You could tell that you surprised her, impressed her even and it sent a strange sort of thrill through you. She didn’t seem like the type of woman, or monster, whatever to be easily impressed.

“Please.” She said and opened her hand, palm up gesturing for you to continue.

“So…vampire huh?”

“That’s not a question.”

“Oh..right, I guess um…how did that happen to you? How did you become- um how -”

“How did I become a vampire?”

You nodded enthusiastically.

“I do not recall.” She stated plainly. “I realize it sounds as though I am avoiding the question, but it has been more than a few centuries, that is, I think that’s how long it's been. Being immortal does not improve the capacity for memory, I'm afraid.”

"What do you mean?" You asked.

“As you age your memory starts to fade. Memory doesn't expand just because you live forever. In fact it gets worse since it doesn't know what to hold onto when nothing is significant. The passage of time and the inevitable end makes things matter. The human brain can only hold so much, becoming a vampire does not fix that. It didn’t cure my spine either.”

“What did it do?”

“ I ceased to age, it made me invulnerable to physical harm, mostly. I can see in the dark, I’m stronger and of course I am filled with a hunger that is never satiated. My turn, do you really want to be a nun?”

“I-I don’t know.” You admitted.

Back and forth you continued for a while asking each other questions before you started getting sleepy. You tried to resist as you weren’t sure what would happen when you fell asleep, but when the heavy feeling in your eyes became too much and you slipped into unconsciousness, you felt strong bony arms lift and carry you up the stairs. At the time you were too exhausted to worry about whether she was taking you somewhere to drain the life out of you, all that mattered was becoming unconscious and you were so tired you didn’t care whether it was permanent or not.

The next morning you woke up safely in the same bed as the night before. In the kitchen there was a roast pig, waiting for you on the table with the head and legs still attached. Once you got past your revulsion, you reasoned that though there were still eggs in the fridge they probably wouldn’t be enough to sustain you, especially in the winter and despite the lack of silverware, you did your best to eat cleanly. Did she butcher the pig herself? Where was the animal kept all this time? You wondered all of this as you ate some of the animal, and then returned the uneaten portion to the refrigerator. Though you were still hungry you knew it was smarter to conserve as much as food as possible, it didn’t make sense that she would have access to new resources, what you were provided with was likely all you would have. Now you had more eggs and meat to eat for the next day and maybe you could survive.

You turned on the faucet in the kitchen sink, leaned over the counter and drank from it dribbling down your chin until your thirst was quenched. It wasn’t ideal but at least you weren’t freezing to death.

It occured to you that she slept during the day because of the thing you barely recalled about vampires and the sunlight. Did she sleep in one of the many, many rooms upstairs, perhaps with a black out curtain hiding the light? Then you remembered vaguely hearing the sound of her footsteps from below. The basement, no windows, that was more likely. But where was the door? After some investigation you were pretty sure you found it, but it was locked, of course it was. Maybe there was a key somewhere? But if she was the only one who went down there, why would she need a key? There were strange sounds you could hear from the other side, the sound of little feet, did she have children down there? And something like little grunts? What was down there?

Since you didn’t see a way into the basement, you started a fire and you occupied yourself among her books once again. The books that were always forbidden to you at home seemed more tempting than the day before, but you settled on some poetry from Edgar Allan Poe.

This time when she glided into the room, she did her best not to startle you, waiting until you looked up from your book to speak to you.

“Good evening,” She said.

You swallowed at the sight of her, every time that you saw her, you were astonished at her beauty “Hi, uh, thanks for not …you know draining the life out of me when I fell asleep last night,” You said.

She chuckled, “You’re welcome.”

You glanced outside at the snow, it was still heavy and covering everything. “Why haven’t you?” You asked. “I mean don’t get me wrong I’m glad you didn’t, I just don’t understand why.”

Tapping her cane as she went, she sat in the armchair across from you. After spreading her legs and placing her cane against the side of it she spoke, “I would prefer not to kill a nun.”

“I’m not a nun yet.” You said, not sure why you were arguing against her reason for not killing you.

“That’s right, I had forgotten. It matters not, you are still an innocent.”

“Hardly..” Again..why were you arguing with her? “All have fallen short of the grace of God, I am no different.”

“Is that so?” She asked and then leaned forward. “In what way have you fallen short?”

Nervously you began to rub your thumbs over the pads of your fingers, back and forth. Your mind only provided you with one answer; a persistent and uncomfortable thought. Your gaze fell from her eyes to her blood red lips and you unconsciously wet your own. She wasn’t a human woman, so perhaps it wasn’t really a sin after all (she had been human at one point), perhaps the effect was a design of evolution (which you didn’t believe in) , perhaps anyone would find themselves captivated by her, maybe it wasn’t what you feared it was, maybe. You glanced at the painting on the wall and then the purple carpeting on the floor.

There was a nagging in the back of your mind, reminding you of the other times you noticed your attention wavering to forbidden territory, times when you tried to tell yourself, you just wanted to be so and so’s friend or that you just wanted to be like her; when you knew the truth. Some part of you always knew.

“I’ve lied,” You said, “wished harm on someone who harmed me, the usual.”

“The usual?” She asked.

You shrugged. “The common sins. You know.”

“I don’t believe in sin.” She said, leaned back and tipped her head to the side to regard you better. Perhaps you imagined she was trying to get a better view of your neck.

“I don’t suppose you would.”

“Oh?”

“The concept of sin and the reality of having to drink blood doesn’t mix well.”

“Wasn’t there a human who wrote of a vampire character obsessed with morality and sin?” She asked.

You hummed. “I wouldn’t know, I was never allowed to read anything like that.” You said.

“Well, you are right to assume that I do not believe in sin because of what I am. I’m sure I was religious once upon a time like you though the truth became pretty apparent to me after a while.”

“What truth is that?”

“That we are all animals, every one of us. Humans are at the top of the food chain, my kind is just the step above.”

“Your kind? Are there more of you?” You asked, trying to hide the terror laced within the question.

“I assume there are. I do not believe I did this to myself.” She sighed then glanced at the clock over the fireplace. “It's getting late. It is not polite to keep you up like this. You need your rest.”

“I thought it was our compromise, we talk and you don’t eat me.”

Her pink tongue flickered out to wet her dark red lips. She smirked and her eyes flashed with something dangerous before she said, “I am feeling rather peckish.”

Your heart started to pound, she was looking at you like she wanted to dip you in chocolate sauce and devour you. “I probably taste bad..” You said and tried coming up with a reason why that might be, but you were tired and she was gorgeous, “The cold you know and…not having any fruit or vegetables around..”

She hummed and it seemed to you that she was giving it thought, “No fruit does tend to affect the taste.” and for a moment you got the distinct impression that perhaps you weren’t talking about the same thing then she said, “Perhaps I could let you live for another night and see what I can do about the fruit. You’re safe, for now my pet, sleep well,” She said.

You remained seated and she raised her eyebrows at you, “It's just that…” You said with a shy nervousness that she found completely charming, “I don’t know which room I sleep in.”

She nodded, “Are you asking me to carry you up the stairs again?” She asked.

Yes. “No. Just..show me please?” You asked. As she leads you up the stairs you add, “Could I also have my phone maybe?”

She cleared her throat, “No.” She said, “Once the storm clears and it's safe for you to leave, I won’t have you calling the authorities on me.”

“I’d find a phone once I was safe.” You argued and why? Why were you reminding her of that? So she’d kill you faster?

“Giving me plenty of time to relocate.”

You stopped on the stairs, she paused a few steps above when she realized you weren’t following. Puzzled you said, “So..you are planning on letting me live.”

She sighed, “If the storm lets up soon I should be able to find someone more worthy of death.” She said and then added, “And I can feed on my animals in the basement until then but that limits your food supply if it becomes that dire.”

“Animals in the basement. That’s where you got the pig.”

“Where did you think it came from?”

“Have you…done that before? Sucked the blood from an animal?”

“One of my older pigs has a bite mark on her back. I don’t remember feeding from her. She’s still alive.”

“Is that why you have the animals? What animals do you have?”

“Chickens and pigs, usually I keep them outside, but it's too cold. Yes that is why I have them.Though they have come in handy having you here.”

“So you’ve never had a guest.”

“I don’t usually play with my food.”

“Is that what you’re doing?”

She stopped in front of a door, “This is where you sleep. Did you pay attention to the route?” She asked.

“Uh..I started to.”You said. “But this house is insane and I’m a little worried about staying alive.”

“Sleep well.” She said and opened the door and closed it after you stepped in. You heard the sound of her heels and her cane echo down the hall and once you didn’t hear them anymore, you felt safe enough to perhaps try to sleep. You locked the door though that seemed stupid, if she really wanted to get to you she’d likely be able to tear it off its hinges. Still it made you feel a little better. Before you got under the sheets, you stepped up to the window. There was still several feet of snow on the ground, but the precipitation had died down a bit. You thought you might be able to leave soon.

The next morning there wasn’t any new food waiting for you, so you were glad that you saved some of the pig and eggs and were able to create a small passable meal. Out the window it looked as though some of the snow was melting, it still wasn’t safe to try and walk in but it was getting there.

You didn’t bother trying the basement door again, since you already knew it would be locked and you knew what the strange sounds were (because for some reason you took her at her word.) This time after starting a fire in the fireplace as was your daily routine you picked up a book you would have never dared touch before you walked into the Venable mansion, simpy because it was by Virginia Wolf (and she had committed suicide) and that was Mrs. Dalloway.

Mrs. Dalloway said that she would buy the flowers herself…

You got lost in your reading once again. Halfway through the book, you heard her ascending the stairs, the party in the narrative was still just only being talked about, but somehow it had kept your interest anyway.

“Oh, that’s one of my favorites.” She said as she seated herself in her usual leather armchair across from you. Her face seemed slightly paler and her cheeks a bit more hollow. “But I cannot remember very much of it. Perhaps I’ll have to read it again when you are finished.”

You almost asked her why she couldn’t remember it before you were reminded by the lack of red in her cheeks, that she wasn’t human, that she was much older than any human should or could be, but still that strange human flaw of degrading memory remained, how odd.

Reluctantly, you shut the book and placed it on the arm of the chair. “I would think the only good thing about being immortal would be to remember a long and interesting life.” You said.

“Who said it was interesting?” She asked. “I have also forgotten every heartache and embarrassing moment, and you’ve just helped me discover another bright side which is that I can reread my favorite novels as though for the first time. Besides my dear, I never said there was anything good about being immortal and it isn’t quite immortality if there is a way to die.”

“There is?”

“You didn’t think I’d actually tell you and leave myself open to attack.”

“Why not? You could kill me at any time yet you chose not to. I’m vulnerable to you. Why not even the playing field? You said there was nothing good about being immortal.”

“I only said that I never mentioned there being anything good about it, there is a difference.”

“What is good..about it then?”

“Clarity.”

“Clarity?”

She nodded.“You humans are so wrapped up in your shame around whether or not you are good and you cannot even agree on the definition of so-called good.”

You rolled your eyes and said, “Oh right, the truth you mentioned about being just animals.”

“You’ll have to forgive me, dear. I do not recall discussing that.”

“It wasn’t really a discussion, you just threw it out there.” You said, “Personally I don’t like the idea of being ‘just an animal.”

“I find it freeing.”

“Freeing? How is it freeing?” You asked, the idea that humans were nothing but animals was unsettling. The kingdom of God was for people after all, not the squirrels in the trees, he created us in his image; he certainly didn’t look like a raccoon or a bear.

She tilted her head back and reached for her cane that she twirled slowly in place. “Animals act on instinct, everything is based on survival, they sleep, eat, kill and fuck all because of urges. Humans are hardly any different and neither are my kind.”

“Ha! Of course humans are different! We weigh our options, we can resist our urges, we use our intelligence and our empathy to make decisions we wouldn’t make if we were simply instinctual animals.”

“You agonize over your desires attempting to rise above them and when any of you manage it you are miserable, but you were never meant to fight them, instead you should use that brain in order to find ways to meet those urges. Because we are all simply animals.”

“You haven’t proven that to me.”

She rose ever so slowly from her chair to stand at the fireplace. “No?”

“Because if we were only animals you would have ended my life already.”

“I do see how that would be your perspective.”

“And after all, you said that you’d rather not drink the blood of an innocent so you are restraining yourself.”

She hummed and smirked before her eyes flashed at you, “Except that in actuality I’ve had two competing urges and..” She let her eyes take in the full form of you, “One of them has proven to be quite a bit stronger.” She said and licked her lips.

What? What could she possibly mean? “You just don’t want to admit that you’re wrong.” You said, “That we are more than just instinct and that you can resist being what you are. That we can all resist temptation.”

“It’s getting late.” She said, “I don’t suppose you remember where you sleep?”

You shook your head and she held out her hand in an offering so she could lead you up the stairs. “Way to change the subject.” You said as you took her hand. As you followed her up the stairs you watched how her hip twisted when she leaned on her cane and asked, “Doesn’t it hurt to walk up all these stairs?”

“Only occasionally, like a barely recalled nightmare, it acts up.”

“And now?’’

“I’m sure it's simply the cold.”

“Isn’t it more likely the temptation you are resisting?” You asked her as she stopped in front of the door you now recognized as the one to your room.

In one swift moment she pinned you to the door, her thumb pressing into the base of your throat while her long fingers curved around your neck. The back of your head hit the door and you noticed her body pressed up against you, trapping you between her and the wood. You felt the light pressure of her breasts against yours and her leg creeping towards the space between your own. She leaned forward and dragged her nose up the other side of your neck inhaling your scent. You stood as still as possible and tried not to breathe or even think. Was this it? Was this the end?

Just under your ear she whispered, “And what temptation would that be dear?” The air she needed only to speak was hot over your ear and sent tingles down your spine.

Blindly you reached for the door handle behind you, turned and pushed it open. She fell forward and you placed a hand on her waist to steady her. Why had you done that? She was about to bite you wasn’t she?

When her eyes met yours, her face was so close, you could actually see the hunger in it, but instead of being afraid, you burst out laughing and she joined you.

Once you stopped the two of you stood silent for a moment. “Goodnight.” You said softly, not sure exactly what had just happened, but not wanting to prolong the awkwardness.

“Goodnight.” She said, mirroring your tone and stepping out of the doorway. Before you closed the door you noticed her fiddling with the fabric of her dress like an antsy little girl in a church pew.

You were sure you’d be able to leave the next day, so you stared up at the ceiling and thought through your plan of grabbing your jacket in the morning, marching right out into the snow, getting to your car and getting out of there.

But then the morning came and you couldn’t leave. Coat on you’d walk to the front door, place your hand over the door handle and then step away, take the coat off of your shoulders and set it down again. You tried three times to just open the door and walk out, but there was this itch in the back of your mind, telling you to say goodbye first. She almost killed you twice and you needed to be polite or maybe you just needed to see her again. This was lunacy.

Still you waited, you finished the book after having told yourself that was reason enough to wait (though you could easily have got it on loan from the library) and then she joined you in the living room.

The bones in her face were visible in the light of the fire and her skin seemed nearly translucent stretched over them. She looked dead, or undead or you weren’t sure, but sometimes like a beautiful corpse instead of a powerful vampire.

“You don’t look so good.” You said stupidly but with a single look from her you revise your statement, “I mean still beautiful but..ill.”

As she turned you saw how her eyes bulged and her red lips appeared gray, you had to look away.

When she spoke her usual smooth like honey dripped onto a crispy apple was instead hoarse and weak. “I drank from poor Henry, I fear she might not make it through the night.”

“Henry?”

“Henrietta.” She said, then those bulging eyes saw your coat draped over the chair behind you. “Going somewhere?”

You swallowed hard and nodded.

“You should have snuck out in the daylight before I could find you.” She snarled, but you knew in this state she wasn’t much of a threat. Not sure where your new found bravery came from, you got up and stood facing her at the fireplace. Though she looked fresh from the grave, you reached out and gently caressed her face.

“I wanted to say goodbye.” You said. On the outside you appeared calm, but your insides were shaking. You still didn’t know why you had this desire, this urge for a farewell, the need to see her one last time before heading out into the cold, especially when the cold would be worse at night. Her skin felt as thin as it looked, you feared that one touch of your nail could tear it open and what would you find underneath? She closed her eyes and leaned into your touch.

There was something soft about her, not her skin, or her cracking lips, something deeper. It was as though seeing her like this let you see beyond the monster on the surface.

“Don’t become a nun.” She whispered.

“Huh?” You asked, as you were dazed, lost in a revelation, a profound truth. This desire that haunted you since you could remember, could go deeper than the flesh, was more than lust, more than sin, more than an animal urge, it was spiritual.

“When you leave, do anything else. You have one life, promise me dear one, you will not throw it away on someone else’s dream.” She said and then there was a banging on the door.

Slowly and leaning heavily on her cane Wilhemina went to answer it. She pulled open the door and you only recognized that the figure was a man before in a blurr, she attacked him. As she tore her fangs into the flesh of his neck and sucked the blood into her mouth, you only had time to watch the strength begin to return to her, before you realized you should run. The skin on her face slowly turned that stark snowy white, her eyes set perfectly and red shined over her lips.

You grabbed your coat and ran past her out the door. Once you had run down the pavement you slipped the coat over your shoulders and shivered. You chanced a glance back to see his body drop in front of the door, to see her in her usual glory, tall and foreboding. She spotted you and you expected fear to take over, but instead it was relief. Not just relief that you made it out, but relief that Wilhemina Venable wouldn’t waste away alone in her mansion.

But she was alone.

Which is why not even a month later you found yourself at her doorstep again.

The night you fled her house you sat in your car after digging it out of the snow and waited for it to heat up. The engine purred and you had a choice to make, right toward the convent or left back into town. For a moment you considered turning right, forgetting about the time you spent with the lonely immortal, but the numbing promise of that choice didn’t appeal to you as much. Then again left toward the town meant there was no path to follow. You'd have to make your own way and you weren’t even sure what that meant, still it was better than the veil. You turned left.

It wasn’t easy on your own, you had a small flat in town and a humble job at the local diner, but every time you drove past that street there was this itch to turn into it, to walk up to her house again and see that impossibly gorgeous face. Eventually you gave into that urge.

This decision might have been worse than staying to say goodbye. Even still, you raised your hand to knock upon the door to the strange and towering palace.

When she answered, she took your breath away. She hadn’t changed, why did you expect her to? Not only had it not been that long, but you already knew that she was incapable of it.

“Hi.” You said, shuffling your feet. It was still winter but there was less than an inch of snow on the ground and the chill wasn’t nearly as intolerable as it was the last time you stood on that doorstep.

“Oh, hello dear, here to offer yourself as a sacrifice?” She asked and by the smirk on her red lips you were sure she was joking. Did Vampires do that, joke about sucking the life out of someone?

“No.” You said. “I’m not exactly sure why I’m here.”

“Should I address you as sister? I don’t see a habit or a crucifix.”

“I didn’t go to the convent.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Would you like to come in?”

“Sure you ..don’t look thirsty…”

“I’m always thirsty.” She said, winking at you as she stood aside to let you in.

She led you to her living room and the two of you sat together like you did those cold nights of the storm. The flicker of her fireplace was comfortable and familiar to you almost like wrapping yourself in a blanket on a rainy day. But how could it be comforting? You were sitting across from a monster, weren’t you?

The night passed as it did when you stayed with her, you talked the night away. Instead of leading you to a room at the end of your conversation she walked you to your car and even held the door open for you, how strange. Even stranger was that when you drove away, you felt this pang, this longing to turn that car right back around.

Something kept making you come back, kept causing you to show up at her door after sundown, whenever you were free from work and the urge arose in you. It wasn’t as though you forgot about the night you left, the night you saw her drain that poor man’s body of blood, the way his body dropped limp and lifeless, but that memory didn’t bother you as much as it should have.

One night months later when you were sitting with her and it was too warm for a fire the only illumination were a few candles on the mantle, she asked you about it.

“I am curious why you keep returning, the reality of what I am must be clear after what you witnessed,” She said.

“It is.” You said and you had nothing to add, because you weren’t sure why. Everything you knew intellectually told you that this woman was dangerous, you knew she was dangerous. So why did you keep coming back? Instead you changed the subject, “I’ve noticed your memory seems better. It seems sharp.”

“Yes.” She agreed, “Having someone to talk to, someone I wish to know better, who seems to want to know about me, it has made remembering a little easier.”

“I do want to know about you.” You admitted.

She chuckled and asked, “Who said I was talking about you dear?”

You gasped. “You were talking about me though.” You said.

“Was I?” She said, smirking. “The nights melded together because nothing changed. My existence was one long stretch of darkness until in the dead of winter, you waltzed right up to my door. I could not believe my good fortune, I was concerned that I would wither away since it was impossible to hunt in a storm like that with everyone huddled up in their homes for warmth.”

“But I’m still here.” You said.

“That was the curse of it. The perfect meal was plated, gift wrapped and left at my doorstep and I let her live.”

“I guess neither of us makes much sense huh?”

“I guess we don’t.” She agreed. “You have added significance to my endless existence, broken up the monotony of eternity with these visits, that’s why my memory has improved, because now I have something worth remembering.” and then much quieter she added, “Thank you.”

You smiled shyly, “You’re welcome.”

“It's almost a shame,” She said, “You would have been such pretty prey.”

Those words nearly caused you to choke on your own spit. Instead you swallowed and attempted to remind yourself why these recurring feelings you had were wrong and needed to be suppressed. But the more time you spent with her the less those reasons made any sense and the less you cared.

Before you knew it, it was winter again. Work kept you fairly busy. It seemed like people were eating at the diner more frequently, something about the cold and the lack of sunlight that perhaps unconsciously drove them to seek out the company of other people, an animal instinct even. You saw her briefly before the sun came up a few mornings in between many shifts simply to check in on her doorstep before she had to hurry inside to her basement and you had to clock in for your shift. Every time you saw her she looked worse. It was clear the winter had dwindled her feeding options again. You hated to see her like that. When you expressed your concern she brushed you off assuring you that it was nothing to worry about, but you knew better. Still she never made a move to feed on you though you knew she must have wanted to. You couldn’t understand why she was resisting and with that possibility always lingering in all of your interactions you wondered again why you kept coming back.

Until you realized, it didn’t matter to you. She woke you up to the reality of your life. You had been on autopilot until you met her, letting your family decide how you should live, never daring to give any thought to what you wanted. She gave you back your life and you wanted to do the same for her.

That night, even though you were on the schedule you didn’t care, you trudged through the snow to her door, knowing your car would be stuck, fully aware of what you were walking into and the consequences none of that mattered. It wasn’t about ending your life, it was about saving hers.

You didn’t knock, what reason did a vampire have to lock her front door? She was more terrifying than anyone looking to rob her, instead you shoved open the door, letting the snow blow into her foyer. The roar of the wind alerted her to your presence. She crept around the corner planning to pounce until she saw that once again it was you who wandered up to her mansion during a terrible storm.

Her eyes met yours, you dropped to your knees on the lush purple carpet in front of the staircase and exposed the side of your neck. “Drink from me, gain strength from me.” With a few clicks of her cane, she stopped just in front of you, gazing down from under her thinning lashes, “Please.” You whispered. “Please.”

#bite. me.

62 notes · View notes

oscar-lettjohanssonloveme · 2 years

Text

Pirate jokes

165K notes · View notes

oscar-lettjohanssonloveme · 2 years

Text

“And when you speak, angels sing from above”

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

summary: Y/N is really shy and uncomfortable with the fact Wanda can read her mind, because her thoughts of the witch aren't that innocent as they should be. ;)) just a fluffy thing, with a bit angsty spice yk

warnings: none.

taglist: @paulawand @rainbow-hedgehog @peggycarter-steverogers @razorscooteer @aviolentdaydream @lokigirlszendaya @d14n4ol

•google translate•

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Okay what about Vision? Yes or no?"

Natasha stared intently at the android who had just entered the party. He was wearing a white shirt and to Natasha's amusement he hadn't quite managed to tie his bow tie properly.

It was Tony's 50th birthday and of course he had to throw a big party. You and Natasha ended up side by side at the bar and started rating the guests for their dating potential.

"I could never date someone who could read my mind," you laughed nervously, running your fingers through your hair. Your thoughts were of course immediately with Wanda.

Natasha just snorted at that comment and raised her eyebrows.

"That's really too bad," she murmured, knowing that the witch had entered the crowded room and was staring at you both.

"I guess some witch might be really sad about this."

You flinched when Natasha just jerked her chin behind you before turning and leaving you alone.

Your eyes closed for a moment before you turned and met Wanda.

Fuck.

The brunette smiled softly at you and immediately your heart sank into your pants.

Her eyes sparkled, reflecting the dim lights Tony only used for his parties.

And "Oh shit" you thought.

She looked beautiful in her dress.

Wanda's smile widened as she heard your thoughts.

"You look really good too."

Your cheeks glowed with embarrassment and you hoped she wouldn't see it in the dark light, but she'd probably heard your thoughts about it again.

"Wanda, please stop reading my mind," you murmured through tight lips and embarrassedly covering your face with your hands, hoping it would form some sort of barrier and keep her from hearing your weird thoughts.

The witch took a step towards you and removed your hands from your face before binding them to hers.

"It's absolutely useless," she said of the idea, still wearing a soft smile.

Talking to Wanda always made you so nervous and anxious. The thought of someone seeing everything in your head was scary.

In addition, your thoughts of Wanda were not always entirely innocent. But was that your fault?

You always decided to think about something else, but unfortunately in such situations you always think of exactly what you don't want to think about and it only makes it worse.

"I should look for Natasha," you mumbled, hoping to get out of the situation, and looked around for your friend in a panic.

"I was hoping I could talk to you?" Wanda asked, gently squeezing your hands to get your attention back to her.

Your eyes darted to her anxiously.

"Uhm- sure."

Saying you had no idea what she wanted from you was ridiculous, but you were certain that this conversation wasn't going to go well for you, or at least it was going to be very awkward.

"Alright."

Wanda pulled you by your hands through the crowd of Tony's guests into the tower's empty dining room.

If you could read Wanda's mind like she could read yours, you would know that she didn't find the situation the least bit uncomfortable as you did.

On the contrary.

Wanda had had to endure all kinds of dirty thoughts about her from all sorts of people ever since she got her gift. She'd had to learn that she wasn't allowed to judge people for their thoughts just because she now had access to their most secret fantasies.

However, it was disgusting for her to hear the dirty thoughts some people had about her and sometimes it was difficult to take the situation.

But then there was you. Wanda had never met anyone who was so afraid of the fact that Wanda had access to their mind.

The more anxious a person was, the louder their thoughts were for Wanda.

And your fear was so big that every time you were in a room with her all you could think about was that everything you were thinking was audible to her.

Wanda often overheard you repeating mantras over and over in your head:

"Don't be weird. Don't be weird. Don't be weird."

Over and over again. And it hurt her to see how scared you were of her. Every time your eyes found hers, she tried to give you the warmest smile to somehow reassure you. You blushed every time you saw her and quickly averted your gaze.

At some point your thoughts went in a different direction. Wanda suddenly found herself in your daydreams and before much time had passed she had to realize that you had fallen in love with her.

If you caught her staring at you now, you often left the room. It became too much for you, but you were also afraid that it would be too much for Wanda, which of course the witch also knew.

You were the first person to really worry that you might hurt her or make her uncomfortable with your thoughts.

Obviously shame was the main reason you worried about it. But when Wanda watched you leave the room because of your daydreaming, she also felt that there was also something to do with respect for her, which she appreciated.

Ironically, Wanda was sometimes disappointed when you left the room. She liked to be a part of your thoughts and liked to see herself in your fantasies.

You were a very shy person and it was interesting to see what you were hiding behind your face flushed with shame.

Wanda thought it was very sweet, but she also knew that you would never in your life tell her what kind of feelings were behind your thoughts. So it was her job to do something.

"Come here," she murmured, patting the seat next to her on the sofa.

You sat down next to her, a little awkwardly.

"How are you?" she asked to get you to talk and at the same time try to get you to relax.

"You can read my mind, you already know everything about me anyway," you growled softly and pulled your skirt over your knees.

"But I want you to talk to me."

"Cool, I'm good."

The witch squeezed your hand encouragingly.

"Look, I know things have been getting pretty weird between us lately and I think we need to talk about it."

"Wanda I'm really sorry, believe me there's nothing I'd want more than you not having to listen to my weird thoughts," you said quickly, narrowing your eyes. You felt so uncomfortable.

You wanted to get up and run out of the room. Running away was always easier. You mentally hit yourself for that thought, Wanda had to hear it again, of course.

The witch sighed and rubbed your knee.

"Honey, you misunderstand, I like your thoughts, they're cute. But you have to know that you shouldn't be ashamed of it."

You blinked in disbelief.

"You think they're cute?"

For you there was nothing more humiliating than knowing you couldn't keep any secrets from Wanda and now she told you she thought that was cute?

She cleared her throat.

"Y/N, I don't just think they're cute, I love them," she explained seriously.

"I love you, even if you can't understand it."

Her words hit you like a slap in the face.

That couldn't really happen. So many times you imagined her saying those words to you, but never in your life did you think it would actually happen.

"You can't love me," you said mockingly, sliding slightly away from her.

"That's bullshit."

It was really weird. You wanted her to love you so badly and worst of all, that she knew it. And you couldn't help it, you couldn't even deny it anymore. But your anxious eyes found nothing in hers but compassion and honesty.

"When I say I've fallen in love with you, I also mean the things that happen in your head," she said quietly.

"Hearing your mind writing poetry when you look at me is one of the most beautiful things for me. And you don't have to be ashamed of it, I-"

"Wanda, please," you interrupted with tears in your eyes and got up to walk to the large panoramic window. The sun was almost down and flooded the whole room with pleasant light. Actually, it was way too romantic for the drama that was going on.

You flinched when suddenly two hands came down on your sides.

"Why are you running away?" she whispered questioningly in your ear.

"Leave me alone."

Your voice almost sounded like a threat as you pushed her hands away and pulled away from her again.

Although Wanda could read your mind, she didn't understand why you were so against it.

"So you want to pretend there's nothing?" she asked irritably, staring holes into your back in disbelief.

"Should I pretend I don't know that you've thought about kissing me three times since we've been in this room?"

"Do not read my thoughts!" You spat angrily and turned back to her. Wanda's shoulders sagged as she saw your eyes watered and your lips trembled. She raised her hands in surrender and took a step towards you.

"Hey," she cooed, gently grabbing your hands.

"It wasn't my intention to make you start crying."

Your eyes were so full of pain as you looked at her with regret.

"I want to love you so much," you whispered.

"But I just can't, I just can't-"

You stopped talking and started to cry. The witch in front of you reacted immediately and pulled you into her arms. Russian words of reassurance slipped from her lips into your ear.

"It feels so wrong," you explained desperately.

Wanda hummed sympathetically.

"You mean that I can read your mind?"

"Yes."

You nodded, sniffling.

"Don't you find it weird to hear all these disgusting things?"

Wanda sighed as she cupped your face between her hands.

Your eyes were full of tears, full of fear and helplessness. Her eyes, on the other hand, were gentle and loving. The witch took a moment just to look at you.

She didn't have to bother to read you. Your confused thoughts literally screamed at her:

"That's weird. I am weird. But, oh, she is so pretty- Oh fuck you, Y/N. I hate me. I hate her-"

Wanda closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them again they were red.

And then suddenly you had Wanda's voice in your head.

"Do you believe me when I tell you that some days I just get out of bed to see you and hear your beautiful thoughts?"

Her voice echoed in your head. It felt weird. As she would talk to you but her lips didn't move, she just looked at you.

When you understood the content you became a little sad. You were surprised that Wanda thought about it that way.

"Wanda I-"

Her voice, echoing in your head, interrupted you.

"You know, sometimes when I feel like no one cares about me, it's the best thing for me to hear your thoughts."

A small smile grew on Wanda's lips and somehow that calmed you down. Your heart fluttered pleasantly.

"Sometimes I picture you laying on my lap and telling me all your thoughts, but then I remember you're way too shy to do that."

Wanda's eyes went back to their normal shade of blue as her voice faded into your head.

"Y/N, I love you. I want you to be my girlfriend so I don't have to make excuses to be around you and hear your beautiful thoughts."

Your eyes flickered nervously.

"I love you too," you mumbled, cheeks red.

It was crazy how embarrassed you were to say those words, even though you'd thought them so many times and Wanda had heard them so many times.

"It feels good to say those words, doesn't it?"

She lifted your chin when you tried to look away in embarrassment and you were forced to look at her again.

"It feels good," you murmured through pursed lips, making Wanda grin.

The brunette suddenly leaned down and gently pressed her lips against yours.

A startled squeak left your mouth, you didn't expect that.

Wanda's lips were soft and tasted like cherry chapstick.

Kissing her was much nicer than you imagined.

Your shaking hands gently rested on her shoulders as you began kissing her back.

"I would take such good care of you," she whispered against your lips, almost like a promise.

"But you have to talk to me, you can't run away anymore."

She pulled away and looked at you steadily again.

"I don't want to run anymore," you whispered. You had just been so desperate, but suddenly you felt so warm and safe. As if the Scarlet Witch cursed you with her beautiful eyes and clouded your mind with her magic. Even if it was, it felt so good. And you really didn't want to run away and be scared anymore.

You swallowed before you mumbled.

"I want to stay."

#wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff #natasaha romanoff #marvel #oscar writes

630 notes · View notes