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namis-gf · 4 months

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Just saw that you’re open for one piece requests and thought I’d drop by.

Would you consider writing back rub and back kisses hcs for katakuri or marco please? And best of luck with the come back ^^

anon ur so insane how did u KNOW i was thinking obsessively about katakuri for the past two weeks straight... ur too good. i meant to stick closer to the prompt but the plot kinda got away from me, sorry!

summary: strawhat!reader x katakuri meet again after many years apart during the whole cake island arc. luffy has been trying to convince him to join his crew with no success, but maybe he might listen to you?

word count: 969 words / 0.9k

cw: none? i think?

whoever said katakuri was 48 year-old eldest daughter syndrome is absolutely correct. he has so many hangups when it comes to both physical and verbal affection, most of the time preferring to passively sit by and let people bother him. case in point, your captain. instead of immediately setting sail for zou to meet up with everyone, luffy has taken it upon himself to convince the minister of flour that his presence is desperately needed on his crew. permanently.

and, if you're going to be polite about it: things aren't going well. you've watched for two days straight, luffy yelling either to the gentle giant's face (which is still quite a distance from the ground), or attempting to scale the walls of katakuri's home. neither of those particularly difficult for the rubber boy, considering the house slash castle itself seems to be basically falling apart.

you wait. nami often sits by your side, either grouching about the time, plotting your captain's demise, or napping on your shoulder. chopper and brook have taken to an almost betting ring of sorts, getting the remaining residents of komugi island to guess whether their leader will stay or go. so far, the odds aren't in luffy's favour. as usual, you might add.

at the end of their fourth extra night, luffy returns to the sunny. he looks a little downtrodden, yawning, but has somehow gotten a hold of a handful of mochi. "i think katakuri was trying to kill me again, but he lost. the food he makes is really yummy though, shishishi!"

with a sigh of your own, you offer, "let me talk to him, i have an idea."

"you do?" luffy replies, mouth full of sweets, "go ahead!"

"call if you need anything!" chopper chimes in.

nami only shakes her head. "if you don't come back, we'll assume you got trampled to death or something. so don't do that please."

"don't even worry about it, i'm basically a pro social hustler," you tell them, and begin the walk to the castle.

"so you are not a bard, or a songstress, or a very small jester. your presence here confuses me, you did not seem like someone who would ever become a pirate," katakuri tells you, his tone as solemn as ever.

"is this a roundabout way of saying i don't have any talents?" you mock-gasp with flair, "oh you wound me so!"

he stares at you wordlessly. okay, it looks like jokes are off the table.

"but you missed me right?" you try instead, putting on your biggest smile. "you missed me so bad, must be why you look so grumpy all the time."

"is your captain aware of..." he pauses, considers, "does the strawhat know of your past?"

"sort of?" you shrug your shoulders, shifting forward to adjust like you aren't already lying on one of his legs (truly the world's largest couch). "there was never exactly a good time to bring it up, ya know? like how was i supposed to say 'uh hey guys, i used to work here as the world's worst gardener before i got fired'."

"hm, that does seem difficult," katakuri nods. "i could not tell how much they knew, but you are lucky that none of my siblings happened to remember you well enough to say anything."

"small blessings for sure," you do your best to contain a laugh, however the echoing chambers of an empty castle only make it louder. "anyways, cut the bullshit. you're gonna come with me, right?"

his neutral expression shifts into something like a frown, and yet you can tell he isn't exactly angry at your presumptuousness either. "i would like to accompany you. but my duties to my... mother and the family take precedence."

"and if you left, she'd send the whole gang after you."

he sighs again. "yes, that is the most probable outcome. and i would not wish to put the strawhat crew in danger."

"that's charming," you reply, "but also really stupid. and i know you aren't a dummy, right? you've been hanging around this dreary archipelago for your whole life! don't you want to, i don't know, do something? go on an adventure?"

he doesn't respond immediately, but a large hand clumsily pats your head with his pointer finger. you grin, knowing victory must be in sight. "your totally evil mom doesn't even leave her place that often, so she won't even notice that you're gone! and tell me right now that you don't think luffy would be chomping at the bit to fight her again? be serious, mochi-mochi."

all of a sudden the ground shifts under you, and you make an embarrassing yelp as you're dragged up and up and up. katakuri holds your body by the back of your shirt, and you're only partially worried that he could drop you. death by splat on marble floor isn't appealing in the slightest. you're suspended by a shirt pinched between fingers as he squints slightly, as though looking for a secret in your expression.

"fine," he eventually says, "i will go. but if something goes wrong, do not say i didn't warn you."

"ah, you're bringing me back to old times!" you hum, making a familiar grabby hand motion for him to drop you on his shoulder. "except i think uh, the last time you warned me-"

"you got fired, yes," he says amicably, but acquiesces to your request. "left or right?"

"right! i wanna look like a really mean parrot, mr. pirate," you exclaim, laughing as he drops you gently where you'd asked. feeling mischievous, you press a kiss against his neck and watch as his face goes pink. "we should probably go make sure that you won't sink the sunny, though!"

"... and you somehow did not think to check something like that before?"

FIN (FOR NOW)

#one piece #one piece x reader #charlotte katakuri #charlotte katakuri x reader #gn!reader #requests open

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lenafromthenordiccoven · 4 months

Text

Call Out Our Names - Bob x f!reader x Phoenix

(moodboard made by me, Top Gun Maverick screencaps by hd-screencaps, rest free-pik.com)

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x afab!reader x Natasha “Phoenix” Trace

Requested? yes

Rating: M – MDNI 18+

Word count: 3244

Warnings: why choose, threesome (FFM), oral (f!receiving), bi!reader, soft dom!Bob, definitely pleasure dom!Phoenix, Bob Floyd fucks, and so does Phoenix, fingering, unprotected PinV (be smart and wrap it, folks)

Summary: When your best friend, Mickey, invites you to come stay with him in San Diego for a bit, you didn’t expect that to lead you to meet two new people who would catch your eye immediately. Only problem is: you don’t think, they’re the sharing type. But maybe – just maybe – you’re wrong?

Read on ao3

Taglist: @high-speed-r

A/N: Thank you for sending in that lovely request, anon! Hope, you’ll enjoy what my brain cooked up. (Cause those two definitely have me in a constant state of bi panic) And I’m so sorry for the long wait 😭 Please accept my first humble offering to @attapullman’s International Bob Floyd Fucks month.

You didn’t quite know what to expect when Mickey had told you, you’d both be going to a BBQ at his former instructor’s home. In fact, you had no idea what to expect of your time in San Diego at all. Mickey, your best friend since kindergarten and WSO for the Navy, was now stationed permanently in San Diego for the foreseeable future and, thus, had invited you out to stay with him for a bit. “You can meet the squad and you can relax. Most importantly, relax. I know, you’ve probably been working yourself to the bone again,” he’d said.

And, though you would never admit it, he wasn’t wrong. Running an animal accessory boutique in Northern Cali, as well as volunteering at your local animal shelter and running the shelter’s social media accounts were more than enough to have you falling into your bed face first at the end of the day. But you’d also recently started remote classes for a degree in psychology and social services, trying to establish a program in your town that would bring together veterans and pets that needed foster homes or new, permanent homes. To say you were exhausted would be an understatement. You didn’t think, you’d ever get rid of the tiredness in your bones. So, while you felt guilty for going away at all, your boss at the shelter had urged you to take some time off. And then Mickey had offered his guest room.

And now you were standing in Captain Mitchell’s backyard, who’d introduced himself as Pete. “Although Maverick or Mav are both fine, too,” he’d joked given that most of the squad called him Mav now. Mickey had introduced you to everybody and while Hangman and Coyote had both flirted with you (after Mickey had made it clear that you were just friends), you couldn’t keep your eyes from wandering to Bob and Phoenix, both standing next to Rooster and Mav and helping with the BBQ.

You know, you’d caught their eyes wandering back to you multiple times by now. Especially since Bob was now sporting a blush that surely had little to do with the heat from the grill. But you had yet to exchange more than polite hellos with either of them – and you wanted to, badly.

“You can talk to them, you know,” Mickey said, nudging you with his elbow in your side when he caught your thousand-yard-stare.

You jumped slightly, brought back to reality by your best friend’s teasing hint. “I-I…? What?” you sputtered before opting to just keep your mouth shut entirely. He was right. You could go over there and introduce yourself. You wanted to, after all. But you were taken aback by the ferocity of your own desire.

“They don’t bite. Well, Nat might. But Bob usually doesn’t.”

You tear your gaze away from their backs – you were 99,9% sure, they should’ve felt your stare burning into their flesh anyway – and turn to look at your best friend. “You think? But—”

“No buts. Just go over there, talk to them and, most importantly, relax and have fun.” He gave you a little shove with his hand on the small of your back in the direction of the grill.

Phoenix saw you first, nodding at you before lightly tapping on Bob’s shoulder, so you’d have his attention as well. He turned around, the light blue eyes behind his gold-wire-rimmed glasses immediately locked onto yours and you could feel the heat creep up your own neck and into your cheeks.

“Y/N, right?” Phoenix asked and you nodded. “What’s up? Need us to save you from Bagman?”

You chuckled at the variation of Hangman’s callsign. Mickey hadn’t been able to tell you much from his last deployment, but he had told you why people called Hangman Hangman, or sometimes Bagman in Phoenix’s case. “Uh, no. Came over here to talk to the two of you, actually.” You nervously put a strand of hair back behind your right ear.

“You-you did?” Bob asked, his eyes now wide with surprise before he exchanged a quick look with Phoenix, who was now smiling at you like she knew how to read your thoughts and knew exactly what you had on your mind.

“Yeah, I did. I do.”

***

You still had no idea how you’d gone from talking and laughing with Phoenix and Bob in Mav’s backyard to now having Phoenix steal the breath from your lungs with a searing kiss as Bob tried to open his front door. You couldn’t help the whimper rising in your throat when you felt Phoenix’s thigh wedge itself between your legs and bump against your core.

You heard Bob groan next to you as the door finally gave way and the three of you tumbled inside. It didn’t take long for him to retake his spot behind you, the heat radiating off his body making you shiver. His hands drifted down your sides and to your hips as Phoenix’s came up to massage your breasts over your bra and shirt. You openly moaned against her mouth, eliciting a chuckle from her.

“Somebody’s sensitive,” Bob murmured against your ear. “You know,” he continued, gently taking your earlobe between his teeth and quickly tugging, “I’m not usually one for sharing. But I’ll make an exception this time. If you let me take the lead, Nat.”

Phoenix pulled back from the kiss, chuckling as you chased after her lips, having grown addicted to her taste after just a few minutes. “Can’t promise that, but I’ll try.”

“Fine by me. Now, let’s get ourselves to the bedroom, shall we?” Bob grumbled against your neck and you nodded furiously. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your core throbbed in time with your heartbeat. All you could think was desire, all you could feel was how their touches and kisses set your body ablaze even through your clothes. Fuck, this was definitely not what you’d envisioned when you’d accepted Mickey’s invitation. But it was so much better than what your brain could have ever come up with.

Somehow, the three of you had made it into Bob��s bedroom without falling, your bodies fused together and limbs tangled. It was a miracle, you thought, that you’d managed to take off your clothes at all. Leaving the three of you in just your underwear.

You licked your lips as your eyes raked over their forms, drawing a chuckle from Bob. “You like what you see, darlin’?” His eyes had darkened as his pupils had blown out with lust; Phoenix looked equally as hungry as you felt.

You nodded, your hands moving to cup him through his boxers. He groaned, snaked an arm around your waist and pulled you to him to press his lips against yours. You sighed against his lips, easily allowing him to slip his tongue inside your mouth. Then you felt Phoenix press her front against your back and nibble on your shoulder, her hands gripping your hips and guiding your movement as you rubbed against Bob’s thigh and crotch.

“Are you going to be a good girl for us, Y/N?” Phoenix whispered and you broke the kiss with Bob as you nodded.

“Yes, anything. I’ll do anything you want.” You’re pretty sure, your brain has actually stopped working as the only thing you cared about was the feeling of their bodies against yours, their touches, their kisses—the noises they made. So, you’re surprised, you can get any words out at all, let alone a full sentence.

“Eager, are we?” Bob mumbles, you blink up at him and barely catch the slightly smug smirk on his lips. The brief glimpse you got sent you reeling regardless, never having thought it possible for this softspoken, shy-looking man to be so dominant in the bedroom. Oh, you’d been wrong. So wrong. And you loved it. You’d forgotten what it was like to have somebody else make the decisions for you, to be able to just let yourself fall, relax and enjoy pleasure.

“Maybe just a little bit?” you replied in equally hushed tones. Your voice drifted off into a sigh when Phoenix’s fingers brushed your core over your soaked panties. Your head falls back against her shoulder.

She clicked her tongue at you. “You’ve ruined your panties, pretty girl. Soaked through them cause you want us so badly, hm?” You whimpered in response, her touch growing firmer, rubbing circles over your pubic mound, but the pressure wasn’t enough against your clit.

“What, can’t even answer us anymore? We’ve barely touched you, darlin’.” You squeezed your eyes shut and your thighs together, essentially trapping Phoenix’s hand between them at Bob’s words. Condescension and lust were dripping off his voice like honey—or drops of oil, only adding fuel to the flames of desire raging through your veins. You reached out your hands for the hem of his boxers, you managed to begin dragging them down over his hips. You slipped out of Phoenix’s grasp on your own hips and were about halfway to your knees in front of them before Bob stopped you by grabbing your wrists.

He shook his head at you, you blinked at him in response, wide-eyed. Had you done something wrong? The question must have been clearly written on your face because he shook his head again, gently cupped your jaw with one of his hands. His thumb stroked over the skin of your cheek and you leaned into the touch, your eyes fluttering closed at the touch. Bob cleared his throat and brought your gaze back to his face.

“Not that I’m not dyin’ to find out what your mouth feels like around my cock, we can do that another time.” Another time. You almost lost your mind at the implication of doing this again. And your mind was already tirelessly spinning out of control in the haze of lust and promised touches. Bob continued, “Why don’t you get on your knees on that bed, ass in the air and show Nat just how badly you wanna please us?”

You heard her groan above you at the implication and you nodded. At this point, you couldn’t give a single fuck anymore about how needy you’d come off to them. You needed them, wanted them, practically burned with the need to please them and have them take care of you in return. Your body should have turned to ashes by now with how hot you felt. However, despite the desire making your every motion feel hazy and inefficient, you managed to climb onto the bed. You hadn’t noticed Phoenix getting comfortable with her back propped up against the headboard. She reached out one of her hands for you and you took it, scooting up until you were almost kneeling in her lap.

“Come here,” she whispered and drew you in by your hand. The other landed on your neck and jaw. She pulled you ever closer, until your breasts brushed hers just as her lips captured yours in a honey-sweet kiss that did nothing to hide the hunger burning underneath her skin, too. You kissed her back, desperate now that you’d gotten a taste, and tried to deepen the kiss. But then you felt Bob’s hands come to rest on your hips, his thumbs drawing soothing circles onto your skin when you’d jumped at the unexpected contact.

Just as Bob pulled your hips and ass backwards and up towards him, Phoenix pushed you down with a hand on your shoulder until your upper body rested on the mattress between her legs. Your face was now eye-level with her bare pussy. When had she taken the time to take off her own panties? You barely had time to wonder, let alone voice the question, when Bob’s lips on your lower back drew a sigh and a shudder from you.

His lips briefly brushed the shell of your ear as he let almost the whole, delicious weight of his body rest on top of yours, and whispered: “Go on, don’t be shy. Show us what that pretty mouth of yours can do, darlin’.” You almost whined when he withdrew from your back again and the cool air of the bedroom hit your heated skin. He hooked his

“What are you going to do, Bob?” Phoenix asked, the gaze from her half-closed eyes was glued to yours. You could see no hesitation in them and decided to just try and see what her reaction would be. You leaned forward and gave her pussy a tentative kiss, your eyes never leaving her face. When you saw her eyelids flutter, you grew bolder, licked a stripe from her entrance to her clit and then closed your lips around the bud.

“Fuck, Y/N. Knew your mouth would feel good,” Phoenix breathed and slipped one of her hands into your hair on the back of your head. “Keep going, pretty girl. Treating me so well. Use your fingers.” You did as asked, kitten-licking her again. You were about to suck on her clit and slip your index finger into her entrance, when Bob gripped your ass with both his hands and pulled you back against his face. Your mouth fell open and you couldn’t hold back the moan bubbling up your throat as he mirrored your actions. With the difference that the two fingers he was slipping inside of you felt deliciously thicker than your own, now pumping in and out Phoenix at a slow, cautious rhythm while you were figuring out what she liked.

Phoenix’s hand tightened in your hair, her fingertips digging into your skin as you kept going, moaning against her own slick core. You could feel her walls clench down on your fingers as you hooked them and brushed against the sweet spot. She let her head sink back against the headboard and a moan tumbled from her lips; the sound made your heart soar and your chest swell with pride.

“Fuck. You’re seriously missing out, Bobby,” Phoenix said, her voice breathless. And you saw her chest heave with every breath. You could hear Bob chuckle behind you.

“I believe you, Nat. But I’ve got a gorgeous little pussy over here, beggin’ for my attention.” He pressed another kiss to one of your ass cheeks, then he brushed his thumb over your clit, practically strumming the bundle of nerves as if he was trying out the feel and sound of a new guitar. You moaned against Phoenix again, letting your head fall away from her core.

You whimpered, felt your own release approach quickly while Phoenix’s walls pulsed around your fingers. “Please, Bob. I need you. Need to feel you.”

Bob didn’t stop his ministrations; instead, he put his free hand on your back, right in the middle of your shoulder blades and pushed you back down towards Phoenix. “I know, baby. We’ve got you, I promise. Just need you to come on my fingers first, can you do that for us, hm?” His weight was back against your back and you felt him press a kiss against the spot where your neck joined your shoulder.

You nodded, his weight on top of you and Phoenix’s hand that had now slipped from the back of your head to cup your cheek felt like the only things still anchoring you to this world. Otherwise, you were sure, you would fully lost yourself to the stream of pleasure. Phoenix whispering your praises and Bob encouraging you to keep eating her out and pumping your fingers in and out of her, had you clenching around his in your core. The tingling started in your toes and you hadn’t realized, you were curling them up until pleasure shot up your legs and spine to flare out through the rest of your body. Just as Phoenix sighed your name with a satisfied smile on her lips and her thighs clamped down over your ears, muffling any other sounds.

You came up, gasping for air, just as you could feel Bob nudge the head of his thick cock against your entrance. Phoenix drew you up and towards her to press her lips against yours in a kiss of gratitude. You gasped against her as Bob slowly pushed inside of you. One of his big hands was gently rubbing circles on your back, Phoenix reached down to your breasts. She grinned against your lips, you’d almost call it a smirk if you weren’t so lost in the way Bob’s cock was stretching you. Then, Phoenix took one of your lips between her fingers, only rolling it gently at first, before she gave it a quick, sharp twist. Something between a gasp and a moan escaped your mouth and you felt her chuckle more than you heard her. Your own heartbeat was too loud in your ears.

Bob quickly set a delicious pace of quick thrusts, never fully pulling out of your pussy or lifting his chest off your back. You faintly heard him groan against your ear, felt his breath leave his mouth in short pants against your skin. “Fuck, Y/N. You feel fucking heavenly. Takin’ me so well.”

“Faster, please. N-need you to go faster.” You had no idea how you’d managed to get the words out, let alone string together two whole sentences in the same instance. Your heart was pounding in your chest, hammering so hard against your ribcage, you thought, it was either going to burst or break through your ribs. Bob complied, moaning loudly as he felt your walls clench in response.

“I know, you’re close, darlin’. Come on. Be a good girl and come on my cock.” You maned at his words. But when you felt Phoenix shift slightly underneath you, then her fingers rubbing tight circles against your clit, you couldn’t hold back the scream any longer. Pleasure erupted inside you, the coil that had tightened in your belly finally snapping. You faintly heard Bob ask, if he could come inside you and you don’t know how you’d responded with a “Yes” loud enough for him to hear. He groaned, before mouthing at your neck and shoulder as his perfect rhythm faltered and his lips ultimately stilled inside you.

The two of you practically collapsed on top of Phoenix, your legs and arms no longer able to support both your weight as you desperately sucked air into your lungs. You heard her giggle underneath you and felt your lips stretch into a tired, fucked-out smile.

“That was…incredible.”

“Agreed. Now, let’s get ourselves cleaned up and cozy, shall we?” Phoenix asked. Bob only mumbled something you couldn’t quite understand beyond the ringing in your ears finally, slowly, subsiding.

You felt him pull out and whined at the sudden feeling of emptiness, your own limbs too heavy with exhaustion and the afterglow of pleasure to keep him on top of you. You had no idea how you formed the words leaving your lips next. “Can we…do this again, sometime?”

And you barely caught their affirmative responses as you tried your hardest not to drift off to sleep already. Damn it, Mickey had been right. This had been fun. And you never would have guessed, his invitation to stay with him for a couple days ever leading to anything like this. But you also weren’t about to complain. No, never that. Meeting Bob and Phoenix had been a godsent and you hoped, you could hold onto them in the future.

#sophie writes #fanfic: call out our names #bob floyd x f!reader x natasha phoenix trace #bob x reader x phoenix #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x f!reader #natasha trace x reader #natasha trace x f!reader #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #bob floyd smut #natasha trace smut #international bob floyd fucks month

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bigfatbimbo · 24 days

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So after that one ask about housewife!Vox having an accident in bed, it got me thinking;

Would the aftermath of that—or something similar to the humiliation of that—be the moment Vox realizes that he wants to marry you? This is based off the assumption the two have not tied the knot yet, obviously.

Like over the course of the next few days, Vox can’t help but think about you and your relationship; you’ve been there for everything. When he was pretty much at the top of the world, his booming business, his scuffles with Alastor, down to the downfall of the Vee’s and much more after that.

Obviously he knew this relationship was gonna last a long time. After all, revealing his mommy kink and his naturally subby nature to someone is something he would absolutely never reveal to anyone unless he knew he could really, really, trust you and see this lasting for a very long time. So it’s definitely not the first time he’s thought about it but this time it’s different.

It’s not like the “They wouldn’t be a terrible spouse”, or, “I suppose being spouses isn’t the biggest inconvenience”, no. This time, he’s like really thinking about it.

His humiliating downfall from his overlord status to basically a “loser baby~🎵” (sorry couldn’t help myself) made his already insecure ass even more insecure. Surely you’d leave right? Why would you stay? Why would you insist he stay? He’s thought about leaving with just himself and Vark to anywhere as to not be a burden to you. Who would want such a failure like him as a partner anyways? Who would want to come home to him everyday?

Well, you do. Whether he’s on top of the world or at rock bottom—you’re there. And if he’s honest with himself; with you there it doesn’t feel like rock bottom at all.

I can imagine the proposal going a few different ways. Like he dips into his savings that he only uses for emergencies (usually spoiling Vark with an actual tank rather than using your little bathtub all the time) and buys a ring—he’s going to propose. Or, he subtly starts hinting towards engagement rings to you in hopes you’d propose. Hell I can even imagine him excitedly calling up Velvette (headcanoning he keeps contact with the other fallen Vee’s) and calling in a favour to make him a wedding suit before he’s even proposed to you 🤦‍♀️ he’s just excited. And he hopes you are too <3

THIS IS SO CUTE OMFG— Anyways, for those who don’t know, the post that sparked this was an ask regarding housewife!Vox, after the fall of the vees, (A little au i have on here if you don’t know) waking up from a terrible nightmare and realizing that he wet the bed.

The anon proposed that leading to sex but in the ask I said that he would prefer to just be comforted and made feel better about his childish and ‘pathetic’ behavior. So imagine, after taking care of the sheets and remaking the bed, taking him in your arms just spooning him, holding him and reassuring that he’s not pathetic, and he’s been having a rough time.

Planting innocent little kisses on his hands and neck while explaining how he’s safe, he’s with you, and you’re not gonna let anything happen. Oh and most best of all, just as you know he’d prefer, you’d forget all about this in the morning.

Something about that, the way you knew exactly how to treat him, exactly what to say to make him feel better, and the fact you didn’t kick him out for doing something so humiliating. Something just clicks in that moment.

With you planting a gentle kiss on his shoulder, he knows. He wants to marry you. It’s honestly a foreign feeling, the need to be tied down to someone permanently like that. But from that night on, it’s on his mind constantly.

You do something for him and he’s just thinking “Oh my god… I love my [wife/husband] so much.” And you’re not even married yet.

He’s planning out his proposal, hinting to you that he wants you too, making ‘slick’ remarks about rings in shop windows. Seeing which one you might be interested in and if that doesn’t work, hinting at the one he wants.

I have such a vision in my head of the proposal being very sitcom-esc. But in the sense where he’s behind you on one knee, waiting for you to turn around, and when you finally do you just grin and laugh, before pulling out a ring from you pocket and going to on one knee yourself.

Like that goofy ‘proposing at the same time’ skit would literally fit this so well. Ugh, domestic Vox gets me so hard. And I like this way better than the more probable way that the housewife!Vox arc would end (so much angst. Terrible terrible terrible.)

Anyways, i’ve been posting a lot of Vox content lately. Can you guys guess my fav character? Haha… nope, very slick.. OH BOY I SURE HOPE NO ONE LEAVES MORE VOX ASKS JN MY INBOX TONIGHT!! maybe more of that boss/assistant human au!! ☺️☺️

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #vox x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #inbox open

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ofallthingsnasty · 4 months

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Pretty please could you do F, H, N, or Y for crocodile one day! I’m curious on your thoughts about him and I love when you talk about him 😭 my new obsession is the pug who he hates but tolerates just for you, so sweet 🥺

Yandere Alphabet letters a, i and q for crocodile hdsjahj anon I'm glad you like my rambles because they are so much fun to write 💕💕 regarding the little dog - don't be fooled, it's 50% him wanting to see you happy and 50% having even more leverage over you 🤭 mean man...

tw.yandere, violence, minors dni

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Uh oh, you might want to reconsider doing that. You call it fighting back, he calls it being an ungrateful, whiny little brat and it pisses him off. There are few things that make his blood boil when it comes to you, and being defiant and insulting him is one of them. Does he know that you’re here against your will? Sure. Does he care? No. You see, he views himself as some sort of provider - he’s giving you a life a million times better than your old one. You’re cared for, well-fed, nicely dressed, don’t have to work - really, your only job is to play house when he’s around (which he isn’t all that often, busy as he is). He doesn't even expect you to fuck him for it, he just wants someone to come home to, who will let him rest his head on their lap and caress it. (Of course, he oh-so-graciously ignores the gigantic power imbalance between the two of you when it suits him, especially when it comes to the bedroom. But generally speaking, I think he can be rather mellow compared to others, can even be reasoned with to a certain extent. Just be good for him.)

He thinks he’s being more than generous, more than fair - for the position you're in. A lesser pirate would have killed you by now, he tells you, would have gotten a new toy already. No, no - he is here to stay, he wants to see you thrive, even.And if you throw it all in his face, spit at him, dare to fight him - oh, what he’ll feel will be beyond good and evil. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, darling.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Okay, good news first: When it comes to Crocodile, I’d argue that the worst experience is really limited to just one. I’ve talked about him physically lashing out at you in a moment of rage and in the weeks that have passed that thought kind of stuck with me. At his core, this man doesn't want to hurt you (deeply). Manipulating you with visual threats and possibilities is one thing, but genuinely injuring you to make you bend to his will? Not really his style. Yes, he does corporal punishments - but only because they’re so effective and can be done so quickly. (A classic action - réaction, if you will.) So, what exactly is that nebulous worst experience? It’s him either using his Devil Fruit powers or his hook on you. To even get to that point, he’d have to be beyond angry with you. It’s probably something that happens early on while you’re not yet acquainted with your new role and you dare to insult him, try to escape - maybe you spiral, his temper simply cooks over and- Trust me, he’ll never do it again. It’ll leave permanent physical damage. But it’ll also traumatize you into submission, which is the only good thing to come out of this, at least to him. You’ll both regret it. And you’ll both learn from it.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Spankings. Lots of them. It’s quick, efficient, shows you who is in charge, makes you sit a little straighter, makes you sweeter - he isn’t beyond mind games in general but when it comes to punishments, a quick correction is just more convenient. Manipulation and the likes are the long con, the work he puts in to undermine your self-esteem, to make you doubt your own feelings for your captor. But the spankings are the here and now, the thing that keeps the cat from sharpening its claws on the sofa.

You’ll learn to associate that telltale-look of tired disappointment with a sigh and over my knee, darling. He’ll ask what you’ve done wrong, will make you count, will leave you feeling so small, like an unruly child and not a fully grown adult - it’s a great way to keep you edge, to never let you forget who is in charge here, no matter how much time passes and in how many gifts he showers you.

And if it’s really dire - you get the belt.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

I always waver on this one. We know from the story that he isn’t afraid of planning, slowly building, waiting - Operation Utopia was a goddamn mammoth and he has the patience to wait on you for years and years to make it perfect - but. Doesn’t he deserve something soft? Someone to come home to? And what good is all that plotting and lying in wait and watching if he could have had you by that point already?He definitely won’t go ‘alright, that one’s spouse-shaped, put them in the bag’ when he sees you for the first time but he won’t wait too long for you either. Just long enough to gain sufficient intel, to get to know you a little better, to make your disappearance as smooth and seamless as possible. I’m not trying to sound harsh, but not only does he not want to wait too long - there are also other, more important things to do? He can’t spend months upon months learning about you inch by inch, he has an Ancient Weapon to seize and a country to overthrow. You can’t be mad at him when he pulls the plug at a certain moment and simply takes what he wants. It’s really only logical.

#omg that was waaaaay too much fun. thank you for indulging me!! kiss for you... 💕#tw.yandere #/crocodile #/one piece #yandere one piece #crocodile x reader

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vampiretendencies · 1 year

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this is a thought i had and i have to share, so we know JJ is clingy and loves to shower with reader. i can't help but picture the two love birds showering very sweetly, washing eachother and cuddling and hugging and such, until JJ somehow needs more physical contact as if they aren't already almost fused together, tries to maneuver the two of them in a weird way, unsuccessfully, he slips because the shower is slippery and just, flings both him and reader to the ground in a mess of limbs and soap😭😭😭💀💀💀 no one gets actually hurt but i just picture him trying to keep them both from falling and then completely landing atop reader as she goes just "oof" because JJ is BUILT. and then them both laughing because let's be real it would be too funny. this mental image gave me joy so i wanted to give you joy too💃🫶🫶🫶

okok i love this anon, i smiled stupidly when reading it :,) so let me just tell give a little insight as to how i’d picture it, based off of this ! (i adore when y’all send me stuff like this)

JJ perfers sentimental, affectionate showers over sexual ones.

To just know and continue discovering your skin.

The shower didn’t have to require sex to do that.

Every crevice, every nook and cranny, every indention in skin, any freckle, any mole, or any scar.

Doesn’t matter where, he’s going to treat it with gentleness as if it were he first time touching another’s skin.

It was so intimate, so devotion-like and freeing to know someone so.

And to feel comfortable was a necessity.

JJ isn’t even ranked as clingy at this point, he’s in his own category of wanting to take a permanent glue stick and sticking you him so that he’s physically there to witness your every body movement.

He’s that lovesick and manic over you.

He just can’t get enough, and vice versa of course.

You were flush against the front of JJ, arms snaking around your waist whilst he washed your chest, the couple nearly being in the position for the past thirty minutes.

Just stuck and relishing in everything that is.

Your eyes were closed, leaning back into him like it was the last moments of your life— and even still, even it were you couldn’t be more pleased

Nakedness being surreal, the skin to skin contact emphatically felt like a dream.

He hummed in your ear, cooing sweet everything’s.

Blonde locks soaked and pointing every which way, but he was just existing right now with you. Praying that he’d never have to leave this shower, that you’d be willing to stay in it long enough that the both of your bodies would turn wrinkly.

“You gonna wash the rest of me yet?”

You stammered, if anymore relaxation have begun to take over you might slumber here and now.

He couldn’t lie, he’d just been gawking at you the entire time.

In awe that you were his woman.

His kind of woman.

“Fuck washing honestly, just wanna’be closer to you, baby.”

Of course the two of you would bathe, but it’s JJ he always has to find a way to get unearthly close to you.

With one swift motion he throws the soapy sponge to the other end of the shower, whilst the both of you share laughter.

Up until, JJ decides to make about the most idiotic move he could’ve made. Trying to spin you around to face him, would typically flatter you— as he had it all planned out to lift you up and beam at you with glee and pure lovingly stares, and allowing his hands to roam more freely.

JJ’s long muscular arm, elongates itself in hopes of scooping you upward and back into him. But that was still a mistake as you are gliding in place trying to keep your balance, ultimately to stumble directly on your ass.

Running water blinding you so much that you don’t see the much more built figure falling down directly on top of you. In an act to help you up, he didnt notice his feet in the same pile of soap suds that you’d just fallen in.

Slipping, falling, and in love.

“Ow,” you proclaim, not necessarily hurt but mainly suprised at the figure ontop of you squashing you in such a way.

You may as well have been a bug.

But, you didn’t mind it. No, not at all.

“Fuck me, you good baby?”

“Perfect.”

Veins intricately bursting from his toned arms, leaning upward as you forcefully pull him down.

“Just stay like this.”

“Want me to just lay on top of you?”

“Just like this.”

You charm him with a toothy grin, surprised that you managed the fall that well. The two of you sharing more laughter, replaying the slip over again in your minds.

#jj maybank imagines #outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank fic #jj maybank thoughts #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank angst

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aerkame · 1 year

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In the finfolk au, what if y/n knew not to give Wally their real name (or at least was weary of him and didn’t trust him enough to tell) and tried to give a nickname instead? Would he know instantly they were lying? And how would he try to get them to say their real name? Also, how would he and everyone else react if y/n upon transforming into a mermaid was terrified and tried to escape?

If Wally doesn't take notice of something Home is there to help... Side note: Normal puppets are just the equivalent of humans in this AU to prevent confusion.

EDIT: ACK, just remembered the last part of the ask. I shall make a part 2 to this ask then. Hopefully the anon will be able to see it when it gets posted!

You were always warned about the finfolk. Luckily you weren't exactly a normal puppet so you doubt that any of the residents here would try to trap you on the island with them. But that small bit of paranoia kept you on your toes...well crutches. Your leg was still healing and as far as you could tell you'd be staying at 'Home' until the injury healed.

"My name is..." You thought of something quick, giving Wally a fake name. You don't know what exactly will happen if you give him your true name, but you've heard plenty of times now to never ever give it out to the fae, demons, angels, or the finfolk.

The tall puppet clicked his felt tongue before placing his hands behind his back. "What a lovely name."

---

Wally is well aware that you have been lying to him, but who is he to try and pry information out of you? He shook his head at the thought. While the finman really wanted to just force the name out of you, it would be better to get you comfortable here first, and then they could begin their goal on making you a permanent resident. Just like they did with Frank.

Speaking of which...he turned around to look at the puppet in question, humming in delight upon seeing you two get along, sipping tea and sharing stories.

Frank was the perfect tool to get you to open up really. He had no issues with the island, he understood selkies and their current dwindling numbers, he was level-headed, and most importantly, he was a normal puppet before. He could relate to you in a sense. The grey puppet even helped you lean towards staying or at least consider the possibility of staying here, having brought up the issue that poachers and criminals alike will do nothing but continue stealing selkie coats for profit.

"Quite frankly, you might be better off staying here. You and I both know there is not much out there for selkies and it's only going to get worse with the constant poaching and coat thieves, your kind are on the brink of extinction for stars sake."

Frank sighed after his mini-rant, having worked himself up. The topic of poaching and hunting exotic or near-extinct species was an upsetting topic and it was easy to tell. You didn't speak much for a while after that, continuing to listen to Frank while sipping at the hot beverage. "Hey...Frank, if I did decide to stay would the others even be alright with that?" Your voice cracked a bit. You don't know why, but it felt like eyes were pinning you to the plush seat, demanding that you stay put.

His eyebrows quirked and he gave you a questioning look. "I have no doubt that the neighbors wouldn't mind you staying." He crossed his arms looking more stern now. "If anything I'd say that you would be safer here with us."

You gave Frank a small smile. The eyes followed you.

---

"So, neighbor. I heard that you've been getting quite comfortable yes?" Wally swished his wine in small circles before taking a sip, not once taking his eyes off you.

"oh, uhm, yes! It's very nice here, there are so many smaller islands and lots of places to explore. And the colorsss..." Your words slurred slightly "so many colors evenn in the plantss. I've never seen any place like thiss! I mean even the insects and fish are unique here, Frankyy showed me his whole collection which he says isn't done ye-" Your face was beet red and the finman could tell he had you drunk enough once you couldn't stop talking yourself into a mess.

Carefully leaning over, Wally placed a hand on yours as he rubbed circles into your palm. Time to butter you up.

"You know, you could always stay with us here, forever. You'll never not be bored, you'll have friends, and you'd be safe." He inhaled, the small but hidden slits behind his cheeks opening, smelling the scent that lingered on your form remembering it was the perfume he gave you. He sighed, content.

Wally looked down at your small body. You had stopped rambling and now you were avoiding eye contact, preferring to look down into your lap or looking off to the side.

"Ah...you know, I could never get your name out of my mind. It's just so wonderful...If you did stay I could call you by it all I want." He leaned in closer, softly grabbing hold of your chin to lift it up, making sure he could see your eyes.

A thumb brushed over your mouth "I just wished there was more I could do to help you..." He breathed out your false name and watched you struggle internally...good.

"Uhm, actually, Wally, there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

"Oh? I'm all ears." His plan was going along flawlessly.

Wally softly let go of your face, but remained close, fixing you in a position of feeling pinned. "I-I lied. About my name. I lied aboutt a lot of things." Some of your letters still slurred but it was obvious you were trying your hardest to think clearly.

"That's alright dear, I knew the whole time, but I figured you had a reason." Wally was grinning ear to ear.

"My real name is..." Your named slipped your mouth.

Yellow hands flew up to cup your cheeks. Wally held a mixed face that was of bliss and excitement. "Oh my darling I am so sorry I've called you by another name this entire time! Please allow me to make up for it with another dinner? Same time tomorrow."

Your head felt fuzzy as you nodded along to whatever he said. "It's- alriight." You felt numbed. Wait...

A part of you panicked for a second, having snapped into the the realm of reality, but you calmed down shortly after. You trusted him. Wally would never harm you or trap you right? He and the others have been all too kind and welcoming and if they really wanted to trap you they'd have figured out a way by now. Your thoughts were so rapid, everything is fast, too fast.

Wally was so caught up in his own thoughts he didn't pay attention to your swaying body until he heard a loud 'thud' and looked down at your sleeping form.

Oh dear, maybe that beverage was too strong for you to handle.

TL;DR

Don't get drunk around Wally. He's a finman and won't get drunk as easily... and he'll probably take advantage of that to get info out of you. Or he'll just make you a blushing mess.

#Home is definitely a cozy beach house #welcome home finfolk au #welcome home #welcome home wally darling #welcome home wally #welcome home wally darling x reader #wally darling x reader #selkie reader #finfolk #au #finfolk au #x reader #wh wlaly darling #wh wally darling

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m1d-45 · 14 days

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-Pari Anon

After the, um, accidental kidnapping, Albedo learns that Pari!Reader hates being taken to the city. But they enjoy being at the Inn or in nature.

He finds them again on the balcony. They’re splashing happily in a tub of shallow water. He remembers the Adeptus that got angry at him, but as long as he doesn’t take Pari, he isn’t breaking any rules.

So he plays with Pari a while. And he isn’t bothered.

Until Xiao is walking up the stairs and finds Albedo with Pari again. It takes all his self control to not attack Albedo.

He begrudgingly learns that Albedo isn’t much of a threat to Pari. And maybe he can help should Pari get kidnapped by a certain Geo Archon.

[ prev post ] : spoilers for albedo lore/story quest

all things considered, albedos trip to liyue was going rather well. aside from the part where he angered an adeptus and nearly got his head cut off, of course, he could have gone without that. but he’d found the source of the ley line disturbance, and a few books in the city on teyvat’s mythos confirmed what he already suspected. the pari were an ancient sumerun race capable of changing the very terrain with their elemental powers… so why were you here?

unfortunately, there was no book on the local adepti at wanwen bookhouse. he considered asking around, but that might just draw unnecessary suspicion. if you lingered around the inn, it was likely your adeptus wasn’t far behind. he conferred with a few local specialists, comparing notes on the ley line disturbances. taking care of his business in the harbor took less time than traveling here, but he wasn’t as upset as he’d normally be. you alone would have warranted a full trip to the inn.

revised notes and a few new pages of others’ observations later, he was on his way. it was late into the afternoon, too late to return to mondstat but more than early enough to make it to the inn. the path was well-worn and easy to follow, and even if it wasn’t it was hard to get lost in the plains. wangshu inn stood high above the horizon line, a permanent marker of his path. he passed the occasional merchant or guild member, but neither they nor he stopped. his journey was largely uneventful, in truth, arriving at the inn an hour or so before the sun would sink below the sea. perhaps if he was able to get settled in by then, he’d be able to watch.

he checks in, going to the balcony to try and catch a glimpse of the sky, and finds you again. someone’s set out a shallow tub for you, filled halfway up with water and sitting on a table so you can see over the railing. the fading sun catches the splashes of water and turns them a bright gold, though you quickly freeze up. how strange, that someone as far removed from human form as you express such complicated emotions as conflict and warning so easily.

how strange, that a pari had not only found itself in liyue, but chosen to stay under watch of an adepti.

“i apologize for earlier,” he says, taking post by the railing and setting up an easel from his inventory. “i didn’t know you had found a guardian. you’re not native to liyue, and i worried.”

a half truth. his motives were far more self-serving than selfishness, but he truly wouldn’t have bothered you if he knew you had “the bane of all evil” as your host. his mistake, though the circumstances of your relationship were quite strange. not a pet, you were too intelligent and the adepti had insisted otherwise.

idly, he trasmutes one of his shorter pencils into a small wooden boat, khemia buzzing in his fingertips. it’s child’s play, one of the first forms he’d mastered, but he hears you chirp sharply from behind him. it’s not fearful, and you don’t say anything when he sets it on the table next to your basin in a quiet offering. he angles himself such that he can see both you and dragonspine behind you, taking up another pencil and beginning to draw.

was it wise to start another sketch when his first was still unfinished? probably not. but that one didn’t have you in it, did it?

the wind runs cold as the sun begins to set, though he doesn’t notice. what does make him pause is the burn of ozone in the air, his mind automatically wondering if tubing had come loose before remembering that he wasn’t in his lab anymore, and that-

“what are you doing here?”

right. ozone, the same odd smell that he didn’t have enough time to register earlier, stinging his nose and warning the air. albedo set down his eraser, giving his hands a cursory dusting before turning around. the same adeptus as before, flickers of gold gathered in one hand like he’s prepared to draw his spear at any moment. you sit in your tub, glancing between them, and he notices you’ve brought the boat in with you.

“drawing. it’s too late to make the journey to mondstadt, and i’ve already checked in with ms goldet. don’t worry, no harm has come to your… friend?”

the adeptus doesn’t respond, not that he expected him to. this was a shared public space, one that he happened to be in at the same time as you. nothing suspicious. you were not alarmed, and had not called for assistance.

you chirped softly, succeeding in getting both of their attentions. you were holding up the boat, carefully balancing it on your wings. were you… showing it to him? why?

the adeptus—would it be rude to ask for his name?—picked up the boat by the mast, turning it over. his gold eyes flashed white with elemental sight, then he returned it just as delicately as he’d picked it up. “where’d you get that?” he asked, voice considerably softer than before.

you pointed one wing at albedo with another chip, letting the boat fall back into the water and batting it around. he’s not sure how much entertainment someone capable of understanding complicated inter-personal relations could garner from a boat, but you were pushing yours to the upper limit, it seems.

“you.” he lifted his eyes, surprised to see the harshness in the adeptus’ had dulled. “what’s your name?”

“i am albedo, chief alchemist of the knights of favonius. you are?”

“…I don’t suppose you just *happened* to have that boat on-hand?”

“no, i made it for them. consider it a gift for scaring the both of you last time.”

“i did not get *scared-…*” he crossed his arms, shaking his head. “irrelevant. come with me, you’re going to catch a cold.”

the latter sentence was of course addressed towards you, his hand lowering to pick up his sleeve. he held it out for you to flap up and into, clutching the boat tight to your chest. the adeptus turned away, swallowed by blue smoke, and albedo sighed.

he’d much have preferred to have his name, but it wasn’t strictly necessary. as for his drawing, it was getting dark, so he added in a quick detail on the front before flipping it over, writing along the top of its frame.

‘an adeptus and his friend.’ — oil, canvas — a painting of a small pari in a basin, lifting a toy boat into the air. at first glance, it may seem like they are the adeptus in question, but finer eyes will see a figure hidden in the shadows atop the roof, looking down with a thin smile. completed by the chief alchemist during his trip to liyue, kindly donated to the knights’ headquarters for your viewing pleasure.

#m1d : [chats]#m1d : [secrets]#pari anon #what’s up danger #anybody else absolutely deranged about baizhu?#liyuen immortals got me fucked up chat #archon!morax got me head in hands down disgusting tbh

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chamberlainyuh · 2 years

Text

𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲, 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐞? | 𝐧.𝐫.

author’s note (important): as you all know, this is gayerthanevertbh’s blog but if some people didn’t know: hi! i’m going to be using my secondary blog until this whole shadowban thing is gone. i have already emailed them but i’m losing hope, somehow. but to the anon who is reading this, i hope you like what i wrote <3

requested by anon: reader is married to wanda but she goes away on a mission they fight before wanda leaves, wanda says horrible shit. reader finds comfort in natasha, they have an affair.

(it was originally supposed to be yelena but i had to change it to wanda, the anon knows the reason why and i didn’t realize that the whole one-shot is based on august *crying emoji* i still hope you enjoy this, i’m very sorry if this will disappoint you.)

pairings: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

warnings: cheating, rough smut, vaginal fingering (r ! receiving), oral sex (n ! receiving), dirty talking, and fluff <3 18+!

word count: 3.7k

masterlist

if you have any requests or questions, i suggest leaving it on my primary blog because i’m only using this secondary blog for the mean time. if my primary blog doesn’t come back the way it was, i might permanently stay here so... yes </3

let me know your thoughts on this!

I always thought that relationships weren’t as complicated as it seems. So when Wanda asked me to marry her, I immediately said yes. Why wouldn’t I? Me and Wanda have loved each other ever since she saved me from that burning building. At first, I was only admiring her for her bravery and her superhero liked. But as I grew to know her; I was merely attached to her love that I thought I deserved.

Unfortunately, as we were married for a couple of months, Wanda’s true self becomes vaguer. Transparent. Her words were more vulgar like one time she called me a useless rat and then storms off to grab a couple of beers to cool her head off. I was stunned at first then I began to realize that she was incredibly being a prude. When she came back home that night, she knelt on the floor and kept kissing my hand; offering me an apology that I thought I deserved once more. I, of course, forgave her and slept by her side that night.

And after a few months, that incident never happened again. We were happier, I was happier. She was the love of my life, as I presumed. And I honestly couldn’t live without her, right?

I was making me and Wanda a warm cup of coffee when Natasha walked by the kitchen, her hands shoved inside the light gray jacket that was wrapped around her. I offered her a kind smile and said: “Do you want a cup, too?”

She smiled back and leaned against the countertop over her stomach. “I think that would be nice.”

I walked back and grabbed a mug that was on the drawer shelf and poured the coffee inside of it slowly. I asked aloud, “Do you want it with sugar?”

“No, thanks.”

I then put the mug on the countertop and smiled at her kindly. She smiled back and I continued cleaning the mess that I made in the kitchen since it would be embarrassing enough not to.

Natasha has always admired me ever since I moved to the tower with Wanda. If she could say it out loud, she would be mesmerized and fonded by my company. Although that’s something that she could never admit, it’s something she would say silently. I was beautiful to her eyes, a doll to take care of. But, she could only do it from afar – as usual.

I pretended not to care about her presence so I dragged the brim of my cup to my lips, sipping quietly of my coffee that was too hot; I almost choked.

“When’s your next mission?” I asked in the midst of our long broad silence that was between us and Natasha gave me an amused smile, as if she was glad that I talked.

“I won’t be going.”

“So then, Wanda and the rest are going to leave?”

“Most likely,” she responded while holding a mouthful of coffee that was inside her mug. Then adding, “I guess it’ll just be me and you for two days. I hope you won’t get bored of me, I don’t talk a lot.”

“I actually appreciate the silence sometimes,” I say with the context that she was implying. “Silence speaks for itself. It could be love, hatred, or just annoying. I don’t know… I’m not good at explaining things.”

“Well, I understand you perfectly well.”

I looked away from her gaze quickly and took an interest in my cup to just avoid that feeling that is giving me. I could still feel her gaze after a minute until I heard footsteps coming through the kitchen and knew that it was Wanda.

“Was I ruining a moment?” she asked bitterly with the tip of her tongue that rolled perfectly inside of her mouth as I shook my head, poured the coffee on the sink, and gave her a tight-lip smile.

“No, your coffee is there.”

“I’d like to have a moment with you if you mind.”

Boom. I knew where this was coming from, especially the way she spoke to me with such venom in her voice. I gulped and turned as I followed her to the room, cursing to myself that I didn’t even say anything when Natasha was left all alone in the kitchen; I hope she understands. Or maybe I just want her to find out the staggering problems between me and Wanda, which is an awful thing to think about considering I have a crush on another redhead.

Wanda put her hands on her hips and asked with a raising tone: “What was that.”

“What was what?” I replied with confusion. I honestly don’t even want to fight about this right now, she’s about to go on a mission, and stressing her out will do a lot of damage. Maybe I shouldn’t have made that coffee for Natasha.

“Natasha and you,” she stated, as a matter of a fact – which she wasn’t wrong either way. “That tension between you two–”

“I’m a little intimidated by her.” I was. Standing in front of the black widow would seriously curl your toes until your stomach is a fluttering mess.

“Oh fuck off, Y/N. Is that your best excuse?”

Sometimes Wanda can get a bit too mean – especially when she sees something she doesn’t appreciate; that concludes my smallest talk with Natasha. I do appreciate possessiveness and jealousy, in fact, it just heightens up my arousal. But not to the point that I would be asked every day how I talked to and all that jazz, it’s exhausting to even talk about it.

“That’s not an excuse, it’s a mere fact.” I tell her with a buzzing tone in my voice, turning away from her as I packed her clothes inside of her bag.

“You’re full of shit,” she wheezes, throwing a piece of clothing in the bag and immediately I looked up at her, arching my eyebrows at the sudden degradation.

I scoffed loudly enough for her to hear, “Sorry?”

“Just–” Wanda then grabbed the bag aggressively off my hand and stood up, throwing it across the room like some mad child. “Leave me alone. I don’t even want to see you right now.”

Quickly, I smiled with sarcasm and opened the front door, murmuring: “The feeling’s mutual. Have fun on your little trip.”

As I kept walking away, I could hear faded noises of her saying you’re a whore and you’d come back running anyways, fuck you! And I’d just laugh on the inside at how Wanda is so desperate for my attention. This has always happened, anyway – it’s tiring to always hear her blabbering about how other women are flirting with me and that I’m giving the same treatment back which is extremely false.

“Are you okay?”

I turned and see Natasha who was standing by her doorway, arms crossed that prod out her chest seemingly. I smiled tightly and replied, “Hi. What’s wrong?”

Natasha looks behind her to see Wanda’s room, then looks back at you and said, “Is she yelling at you?”

“Sure,” I mumbled. “I mean, it’s always been like that–”

“She shouldn’t treat you that way.”

I smiled sadly at her and shrugged, “How should I be treated then?”

Natasha then motions me to come inside of her room and my body gladly did – but my mind said something else. I’ve always had a crush on the infamous black widow with her martial arts skills and her heart for saving the world. She had a name for herself, she was always the talk in town. And, she was very kind towards me too. Maybe add her lingering at me sometimes but other than that, she was kind and very attractive.

I found myself gazing at her bookshelf where she has these hardbound books on the top shelf, then at the second and third row, they are paperbacks that I didn’t understand because they’re mostly in Russian. Somehow, that intrigued me because I can only speak one language; speaking in another language is way too complicated for me. Even if I was given a chance to learn it, I’d probably just back out.

“You like them?” she asked while I turn and see her smiling at me as if amused that I was in the same room as her. I nodded.

“ты прекрасна (you’re beautiful),” Natasha said as she took a step forward to me, unconsciously tucking a strand of my hair inside my ear as I was too far to notice it. And then she added, “Would you like to know what that means?”

I smiled and walked away from her as I could feel my heart thumping loudly, like banging through my chest, as I could be lost in her translation.

“Amuse me.”

Natasha walks behind me and leans against my neck, smiling to herself when she gets this close to me. But, I couldn’t see what she was doing as I would die if I did so. This felt wrong, terribly wrong to be exact, but my body was not moving as I began to notice that I like her attention – or whatever that is.

“It means you’re beautiful,” she whispers now, and I turned around, my eyes looking up at her hooded ones. “Very beautiful.”

I could say it back but I was gazing at her eyes that I didn’t feel my fingers trembling as she creeped onto it, holding it gently. I looked down at our intertwined hands and I remembered that I was married. Fucking married.

“Natasha,” I whispered as I pulled my hand away, looking at her while shaking my head, trying to laugh it off. “We–We can’t.”

“I know she’s been horrible to you.”

“But still,” I said with a pleading tone as I made my way towards the door and twisted the knob but Natasha’s strong hands were pressed against the wooden door. “Natasha, you can’t do this. We really can’t.”

“Leave her,” she said simply with confidence in her tone. “I can’t see you getting hurt by her, you don’t deserve that.”

What do I truly deserve? Was I some kind of toy to be messed with and played with? Who was I to say that I deserved more? At first, I merely didn’t believe her but as that sunk in, deeper into my soul, I realized that she was right. Although committing adultery is something I can’t do.

Maybe.

“You’re making me feel things,” I chuckled nervously as I could feel the sweat from my forehead, quickly wiping it with the back of my hand. Natasha carefully places her hand that was on my cheek and gave a gentle squeeze, gasping lightly from the simplest touch.

“Like what, doll?”

My consciousness could not hold my eagerness for the woman as I latched my arms around her and kissed her lips which made the woman completely off-guard. Natasha brings her hands to my neck as she licks my top lip, asking for entrance. I gladly did and I could feel her tongue swirling inside of my mouth, like an expert. I was so bundled with joy that I didn’t realize that I was cheating on my wife. Who gives a shit? She treated you awfully.

“Nat,” I pulled away with a smack between our lips as I heave for air, my forehead touching hers. “I–God, I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, pretty one,” she smiles at me with no teeth, kissing my lips eagerly – pecking it. “I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I met you. Wanda just… took you away from me.”

“Took me away huh?” I teased, arching my eyebrows and she shakes her head in response, laughing mischievously.

“You have no idea how much I’ve waited for you.” she purs to me as her arms carry me to her bed until I am plastered all over her silk soft sheets. She climbs on top of me and nips on my jaw with pure hunger and lust. “You’re going to be mine.”

She takes my mouth with her lips while her hands are maneuvering all over my torso until she has reached for my breasts. Natasha then grabs me by the throat and pulls me close, are you going to be a good little whore for me, hm? She whispers into my ear hotly.

“I love the way you talk, Nat,” I admitted, moaning breathlessly as soon as her hands explored inside of my shirt, her hand traveling to my nipples and pinching it, hard. “Oh god, please don’t stop…”

“You like that, huh?” Natasha asked while giving me a smug look as I turned around until my whole front was pressed against the mattress. She pulled down my shorts along with my panties and saw how bare I was. Her lips spread a seductive and hungry smile and squeezed my right ass gently, moaning when her warm hand hits my cooler skin.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” she compliments and her hands both squeezed on my ass, but harder this time. Clearly, she was enjoying how I had become submitted to her. “What a slut. Do you like it when Mommy calls you a slut?”

I nodded, biting my lip down as I let out an mhm before I shrieked when her hand slapped on my left cheek.

“Use your words.”

“Yes,” I stuttered as I thought how stupid that was. But, I can feel that she was smiling at my response. She palms harshly on my cheek and leans closer to my ear, kissing my earlobe.

“What’s your safeword?”

I thought about it for a while until I whispered out, “...Penis.”

She lets out a deep chuckle before taking my earlobe inside of her mouth, sucking it with a long low moan. Pulling away, her nose was pressed against my cheek. “Alright then. I’ll go hard on you, is that okay?”

“You can do whatever you want with my body, Natasha,” I reassured her with my head frantically nodding as excitement was about to burst out of me. “Please just–fuck me?”

“You want me to fuck you?” She taunts while pulling off my shorts and throwing them across the room, lifting my hips up until it was in the air; asking for it to be fucked. “You want mommy to just fuck your tight pussy?”

“Yes!”

She spits on her fingers, smothering it until it was completely lubed. I looked behind her as I could see her smiling to herself at how submissive I was to her like I was the only girl that could ever be like this. It surprised me how much Natasha wanted this, did she have a crush on me too? Or do we have the same feelings for each other?

“Turn around,” she demands and took off her tight gray tank top, revealing her abs that made my stomach churn with want; how much I want to grind my pussy against those beautiful abs. “And open your mouth wide.”

I did as I was told. I turned around and rested my head against the soft pillows, looking up at her and noticing how turned on she was despite her hooded seductive eyes and her mouth hanging a little open. I licked in between my lips and opened it wide, sticking out my tongue.

“Such a good girl,” she praises with whispers and gurgles something inside of her mouth, then spits on my tongue and chuckles darkly at how large the spit was. “I may have masturbated to this kind of scenario; just didn’t think this would be real.”

God, she’s hot.

I felt nauseous, in a good way. I wanted more of her, no – I needed more of her. I want her to kiss me, touch me everywhere, and fuck me to the brim. She knew how much I was getting impatient so she closed my mouth and I swallowed her spit, tasting the coffee from it.

Her fingers moved down to my pelvis until she was spreading her fingers all over your folds, gasping at how warm and slimy I was – it’s like she couldn’t get enough of it.

“God, you’re so wet,” she purred, batting her eyelashes as her thumb played with my clit; teasing me. “You’re going to be my good girl, yeah?”

“Mhm…” I nodded as I succumbed to her touching me that felt like inevitably, I was losing so much control that it was hard for me to push the breaks.

“You make mommy so wet, baby. I’m so fucking horny…” she whispers to me with her eyes closed while playing with my folds, as if taking in everything that I have. She hallows her cheeks out and spits on my bare cunt as I watch a wad coming down from her mouth. Her saliva felt warm and prickled down until to my tight hole. I was going to come at the moment, I was so ready to–

She slipped two fingers inside of me and I screamed, “Natasha!”

“Shh,” she groans, deepening her fingers inside of my warm hole. “You’re so fucking tight too… can’t believe I’m fucking you now. You’re going to be my dirty whore, my only dirty whore.”

“Keep talking to me like that,” I mewled as I begged and rolled my hips to feel the heel of her hand against my clit – which I successfully did. “God Natasha–”

“Call me mommy,” Natasha begs while kissing my chin, then closes her lips onto mine hungrily. “You’re the best fuck toy that I’ve ever had…”

She pumps roughly inside of me as I can feel the headboard hitting against the wall to emphasize that she was railing me. Natasha grunts within each thrust, whispering: “You’re so beautiful, oh god… you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“Oh mommy,” I licked her lips while I rolled my eyes within my lids as her fingers spread into me, making me scream into the soundproofed room. “Fuck me harder, please! Oh god, you’re going to make me come… I feel so full.”

“I bet you’ll feel even fuller once I fuck you with my dick,” she says, her eyes averting to the closet that probably had her strap in. She looks back at me and licks my cheeks, sloppily. “Tell me you’re mine, fucking say it to me. Now.”

“I’m yours!” One hard thrust.

“I want you to become my good girl and come all over my fingers,” she demands with a rough tone as she curls her fingers deep in me, hitting that spot that I eagerly want to feel. Her other hand is squeezing my right tit hard and slapping it, making me shriek in pleasure like some pornographic girl.

“Please let me come,” I begged and I could feel my core tightening as my climax was about to rise. She presses her forehead against mine as she adds another finger, making my cunt feel undeniably full. “Oh god, I’m so…Ugh!”

“This is so hot,” she comments while whimpering into my mouth, kissing me with passion. “Come now, baby. Let mommy feel your cum.”

I closed my eyes as I arched my back with a sensational orgasm that has reached my core. I could feel my cunt tightening around her fingers while I can practically see stars within my eyes, screaming in pleasure. I held onto her tightly with one arm while the other was supporting me against the bed, I felt alive while she was feeding me with her fingers deep inside of me; I barely couldn’t get enough.

“Lay back,” she softly demands, and I laid my head back against the pillow. She caged me with both of her legs beside my head and lowered herself down, her cunt was on my face and she asked, “Open your mouth, sweet girl. I’m gonna–Fuck–Mommy’s going to cum, please open it.”

I thrust my tongue deep inside of her cunt and Natasha screams, closing her eyes tightly as she held my head, pushing my face until my whole mouth was against her pussy. She starts humping me with eagerness and hunger, not caring if anyone could hear us because I know for a fact that we are being really loud.

“Your mouth feels so good, doll,” she pants, her hand gripping my hair tightly as her chest heaves rapidly. She used her other hand to hold onto the headboard as she fucked my face with her cunt and buried me in it, which she enjoyed. “Yeah, eat me like that. You’re going to make mommy come so–Mmph–inside your pretty little mouth, bet you can’t take my cock once I fuck you with it.”

I moaned as she spoke to me in such a vulgar way, I could feel my pussy throb again with want. She holds on to my face steadily and chants with a wail, “Yes, oh god…yes! I’m coming so hard, open that mouth–Ugh…”

Her cunt spasms and moans wantonly, whispering the sweetest things in the air as she mindlessly grinds on my face; biting on her bottom lip hard as she kept coming inside of my mouth, I could taste her forever. She felt magnificent.

I drank her come until she couldn’t give anymore and fell her body beside me, panting against my ear as she wheezes with a laugh. Out of curiosity, I turned and couldn’t help but asked: “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” she sniffles and pulls me close to her, my front pressing against hers. Natasha kisses my side temple and travels her hand all the way to my ass, giving it a tight squeeze. “You were so hot when you cum, I can’t fully fuck you until you barely walk.”

“Wow, you want that to happen?”

Of course, there was a hint of a joke inside my tone that she laughed. She hums quietly and presses another kiss, this time longer and lingering. The sight of me smiling softly at her makes her smile as well. She touches your cheek with her knuckles grazing on it and whispers, “I can be better, you know?”

“I know,” I whispered back, looking at her dreamfully.

“Then be with me,” she asked while bringing my hand to her lips, giving wet kisses against my palm that I gasped at how passionate she was about it. “Please? I’ll never hurt you the way she does. I promise that, Y/N.”

Maybe things will be different if I go to her, maybe then – I’ll be happier. I don’t have to worry over a wife who will call me hideous and horrendous names, I don’t have to worry about her coming home late when I already have an idea she’s cheating on me, I don’t have to worry about that all if I just say yes to Natasha.

I sighed and gave her a curt nod, smiling sheepishly.

“I’m already with you, aren’t I?”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha smut #black widow x you #black widow x reader

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apprenticestanheight · 5 months

Note

Adam being found in the trap and the reader helping him recover afterwards? Love ur stuff!!!

Peaceful- Adam Stanheight x gn! reader

hi!! Thank you for sending this in--I know it's been a couple of weeks but thank you and I'm sorry it's taken so long. Life and demotivation and bad object permanence have all gotten in the way recently and so this request slipped away from my mind for a while there, but if you're reading, anon, I really do hope this was worth the wait!

Fic type- this is a somewhat healthy balance of angst and fluff, though the angst is a bit heavy so the scales might be somewhat uneven

Warnings- this is very unedited oops

Adam is found only thanks to Lawrences insistences as he's put onto a stretcher. Lawrence had mustered what limited strength he had left to tell paramedics to get the cops to investigate the building he'd crawled out of, and thankfully they'd listened.

Adam is found four days out from his initial capture, and in that time you'd been worried sick. Scott had given you Xanax from a buddy of a buddy just to get you to calm down, and even then, despite looking calm on your exterior, your mind was clouded with thoughts of Adam and such remained as you haggled the police to start looking for him.

Your entire body pretty much floods with relief when you answer an unknown caller from the landline and hear the voice of a nurse, informing you that you were the first person on Adam Stanheights emergency contact list and that he was in the hospital, being treated for a severe shoulder wound that had been left to fester for nearly a week.

You go see him the day after you're called, and Adam manages a small smile when he sees you entering the room, wearing one of his sweaters and likely harboring his last known pack of cigarettes in the pocket so that you could calm yourself down with an excuse to go outside when you got the jitters.

"Thief," Adam says, adjusting his bed so that he's sitting up. His shoulder is in wicked pain and he wants to be mad about it but seeing you has pretty much made feeling anything other than relief impossible. "My sweater, probably my cigarettes too."

Adam laughs when you freeze, clearly not having meant to walk in while he was awake, let alone feeling brazen. You approach and sit in the weird comfortable-but-not reclining chair on his left, lightly hitting the space near his thigh as you do.

"Shut up," you murmur. "It smelled like you, okay? And as for the cigarettes--yes, I did steal them but that was because they looked lonely, and I figured it was a few days where I didn't have to buy a pack. Haggling the police is stressful enough, I deserved a break."

"You haggled the police?" Adam asks. "Isn't that grounds for harassment?"

"Well, one very angry FBI agent made sure to make that clear to me the day before you were found, but I don't have any regrets. I was worried--worried to the point of Scott feeling the need to get me fuckin' Xanax."

Adam snorts, scoffing a little. "He knows a few dealers who've been bugging him to start feeding them clientele," he says. "Of course he'd use my disappearance as the opportunity to buy a bottle. Fucking lunatic."

You grab his hand before you can think about it, and Adam interlaces your fingers without a second thought.

"Are you okay if I spend a few days at yours when I'm released?"

"Of course," you nod. "Yeah--however much time you want, you can spend it at mine."

Adam looks at you, for a minute, like you're the reason that there are stars in the sky at night. You bring his hand to your lips and press a kiss against it, telling him to rest because he'd been trapped for four days and could probably use some to replace the sleep he'd missed out on.

He makes a quip about how little he'll sleep when he's at yours, closes his eyes and rests his cheek against his pillow as you scoff, saying: "You wish, Stanheight," as he drifts off.

Adam gets released a week later, and when he comes to stay at your place, you learn that Adam has a whole new host of fears to accompany the trauma of being trapped with what seemed like no way out.

He doesn't really like the dark and is afraid of the water, and just about anything is small enough to set off his anger issues or make him start quipping, sarcasm dripping from his tone like no tomorrow.

Of course, that ends up culminating in a fight between the two of you, which are rare to speak of because you've just--you've rarely fought.

It's something that Adam prides himself on--despite thinking of himself as an inherently angry person, he's not prone to flipping his lid as much as he used to be.

You two had been together for three years at that point, and Adam was very anger prone during the opening stages of your relationship so fights were common, but he'd done his best and worked on it and two years and nine months gone, he'd stopped being so quick to anger with regard to you. He kept himself in check because fighting was exhausting and he hated fighting with you as it were, so communication had become a big thing for you two and it was one of the reasons the two of you were so tight knit.

But then, after his trap, Adam stopped communicating because he knew you wouldn't understand and what was the point in talking if you wouldn't get it? Adam had stopped communicating with regard to that because it was just--he thought it was easier that way.

But of course, you didn't feel the same. You felt like he was shutting you out and you hated that, and it all culminated some night in the middle of September.

"You're just--you're not getting it!" You're shouting, standing by the fridge where Adam sits at the dining room table. "You're not understanding my perspective, Adam. Pete's sake, it's like trying to talk to a goddamned brick wall."

"There's nothing to understand, Y/N!" Adam fires back. "There's nothing to discuss, okay? I'm fine! I've been fine--everything is fine with me and you thinking otherwise is not helping because you're trying to pry to get answers and I just fuckin' hate that shit, and you know it, and you're doing it to aggravate me!"

"I'm not doing anything to aggravate you, Adam," you pause, turning around and pressing your forehead against the steel of your fridge. You let your eyes close. "I'm trying to fucking understand, okay?"

"There's nothing to understand!" Adam screams. "I was put into a trap, okay? I was shot and I killed someone and I was left for fucking dead--you don't get that. It's not your job to get that, and I'm not asking you to so stop trying!"

"I want to understand, Adam," you try to keep your voice level. "I want to understand because I want to help you, all right? I want to make sure that you're okay because you're clearly incapable of doing so yourself so someone fucking has to!"

"You're a goddamned lunatic," Adam shouts. "Fuck, I fell in love with a lunatic! Good job, me! I don't need help, Y/N. I'm not worthy of a fucking pity party, nor am I your goddamned charity case. Stop trying to fix me--I'm fine, okay? And when I say I'm fine, you need to either believe it or get the fuck out of my life!"

You mull over the words for maybe ten seconds before you speak again.

"Get out," you say, voice monotonous. "Get the fuck out of my apartment, Adam. If you want me gone, then you have to leave because I sure as hell am not going anywhere."

Adam sighs. "Fine," he says. "If that's how you wanna be, then I'll go. We're done."

"Whatever you say, Stanheight," you shrug. "If you don't want help, then fine. I won't give it to you, but I'm not going to stick around just for you to shut me out. That is not who I am and I will not be that person just to give you comfort."

You don't look at him, only hear his footsteps and the wall-shaking slam of the door signaling that he's gone.

Once he's left, you move to the counter, brace your hands against it and start quietly crying.

Adam goes to his apartment, finding solace in both the bottle of whiskey that sits in one of his cabinets and the stray cat he's been feeding since he moved in.

Two and a half days go by before Adam is at your apartment, an apology on the tip of his tongue and your favorite CDs in a care basket he carries, that he had to buy with two last minute PI jobs that he hopes the Jigsaw killer isn't going to bust his ass for.

You answer the door within thirty seconds after Adam knocks, and selfishly Adam is kind of relieved to sere you look as much of a wreck as he does.

He grins sadly at you. "I don't wanna break up," he says. "I don't know why I said that, and I'm really sorry--this trap shit has messed me up and I swear, I didn't mean to take it out on you."

You look about ready to collapse in his arms, but you at least have the decency to let him in first, nodding your agreement as you do. Once the door closes, Adam puts the basket onto the floor and hugs you as tightly as he can muster.

"'M sorry, baby," he says, finally letting out the guilt that has had two days to fester. "I didn't mean to snap, I swear."

"I know," you nod. "I know, Adam, and I know that I can't understand what you've been through but I just--I want to help you, okay? I know you're not okay because I can see it, and I just want to make sure you know I care. I'm sorry if I've been overbearing about it but I just--seeing you like you've been lately? I love you so much, but it's been unbearable. I hate it because I know you're in pain and you're not letting me help."

He pulls away just enough to press a kiss to your forehead, holding your face like he has his entire world between his palms.

"I don't want you to feel like you need to try and fix me," Adam murmurs as your hands find his forearms. You run your hands up and down them, trying to soothe both his anxiety and your own. "I don't need to be fixed, Y/N, and I don't wanna be. I don't wanna be a charity case, okay? If I'm too fucked up you're allowed to let me go."

"You're not a charity case, Stanheight," you say it with a laugh following along through your words, and as Adam presses another lingering kiss to your forehead he knows you're smiling. "Even if I wanted you to be, you wouldn't let me turn you into one. I just wanna--I wanna know, what's happened to you and what I can to do help you when the going gets tough, all right? That's all I'm asking for, I promise."

"Okay," Adam murmurs, and he knows he's agreeing to it both for his sake and your own. He didn't want to lose you but he also needed someone, and so it worked out in it's own mysterious way. "I can do that, Y/N."

And then he's pulling away just enough to meet your gaze, and you have a tear running down your cheek, but you're smiling.

"I love you," you whisper.

Adam leans in and you let him kiss you in a way that says that he loves you more, in a way that says every single thing that Adam cannot find it in himself to speak at the current.

Adam opens up to you that night. It happens long after you've eaten your Chinese food and before you've bothered to light candles in order to save on your light bill, but the conversation is very long and ends up with Adam having a break down while you press a soothing kiss to his forehead and he asks if you have any bowls to smoke so that he can ease his anxieties. All in all, though, you both end up thinking it's worth it because, by the conversations end, you're on the same wavelength again and that is one of the best feelings in both of your experiences.

You quickly devise strategies to distract him when his anxiety kicks up, be it with a story of a stray you saw while on a walk through the Jersey gardens or offering to watch a crappy 60s era horror movie after you've smoked a bowl or two. You learn what his tells are, when something is triggering his trauma, and along with learning his tells you learn to act accordingly.

Like, when a few weeks after he's escaped, a story of possible Jigsaw victims in Mexico makes it to your local news channel and his anxiety kicks back in despite the fact Mexico and Jersey are a good enough distance away from each other, you notice the first of his tells.

The first of his tells is the fact that his gaze moves to his hands. He scrutinizes his nails at first and will start picking at them with a moments notice, so you stop that. You change the channel to one of the ones that just plays adorable cat segments on loop and grin as you steal his hand away from his gaze, interlacing your fingers with his and using that as a means to lift his arm. Lifting his arm in turn allows you to move closer and let go of his hand as you drape his arm across your shoulders and press a kiss to his jawline as he smiles nervously.

"Everything is okay," you say, grinning in as much of an assured manner as you can. "He's still on the loose, sure, but he's on the loose in Mexico. That's not nearly as scary as him being on the loose here."

"You're trying to help," Adam murmurs. "Thank you for trying, but talking about him isn't really helpful."

You think on the next topic of conversation for a solid twelve seconds.

"Well, how's the stray you've been feeding?"

"Graycie? She's good! Been looking for a new place and I think I'll just bring her with me when I go. Found a decent job last week so all I have to do is find a place within range and I'm pretty much set."

"Move in with me," you suggest, blurting the words out before you can stop yourself. "I mean--it's been three years anyway and the rent here is only a third of the paycheck I make working in marketing so you realistically don't have to pay any at all! You can cover groceries or utilities or something, if you're adamant about contributing. The building is also pet friendly so there's definitely that."

Adam blinks surprisedly, mouth open in somewhat shock. "You're--you're sure?"

"It's either you move in or you life in the building you were taken from, which also has roaches," you shrug. "Plus--the bed gets really lonely at night without you and your intense body heat. I can help you move out, Adam, and we can live together, share a car, do all of the silly couple shit."

Adams face breaks out into a grin, and he nods. "Yeah," he says. "I'll do silly couple shit with you, Y/N, including moving in--long as I get to bring the stray with me."

"I thought the two of you were a package deal," you laugh. "Of course--I'm eager to meet the stink, anyway."

Adam laughs, presses several kisses along the scope of your jawline and by your earlobe, and suddenly what originated as a need to stop his anxious mind from being as it does has turned into a rather momentous, joyous occasion that would probably call for a bottle of wine if it weren't five o'clock on an October Monday.

all in all, your existence becomes a very peaceful one, even when you have to help Adam through bouts where the trauma comes up in the form of memories and triggers.

It's a peaceful existence, and it is one that you love for it's peace.

#adam stanheight #adam stanheight x reader #saw (2004)

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thisisarcanereverie · 1 year

Note

May i request a Yandere Moonknight System with a reader who’s like visiting London on work or something and they meet one of the boys. over their stay they get close as the boys show them around London and they sort of ignore the fact reader eventually has to leave untill they tell the boys they’re leaving the next day and they snap and take reader. Idk if that makes sense. 🤍

Cutting Ties (Dark! Moon Knight x Reader)

A/N: This is Part 1 of a 3 Part fic. This is also a dark fic so please DNI Minors and others. (I got a little carried away with this idea Anon so thank you for the suggestion)

Now if you can interact or want to, please do! Like, reblog, reply!

DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS: kidnapping, angst (like a ridiculous amount of it), light cursing, I've never been to London or England in general so I'm going based off of what I've seen, English is my first language I just suck at it. I do not own the picture above but i DO own the header below, it's something that I made. I might make a few others idk. Enjoy!

Summary: You're a former Widow on the run, only in London for a year you meet Steven Grant, a goofy gift shoppist. But is there more that meets the eye?

You weren’t sure what it was about London, maybe it was the almost constant cloud looming over the city-or perhaps it was the way you barely understood what the people around you were saying- but you didn’t get what all the hype was about. Yes, it was beautiful if you put a filter over it looking at it through a tourist’s perspective. However, looking past all the buzz and touristy wonder, it was just like every other city- gray, busy, and foul smelling–filled to the brim with more people than it could possibly provide for. The only difference was the currency and the fact that everyone sounded like they came out of either Downtown Abbey or Derby Girls.

You sighed as you reminded yourself that you were only going to be stuck here for another year, until this identity expired, then you got to go somewhere else, maybe somewhere warm and remote. Though you doubt it, that’s the thing about being on the run–you don’t get to choose where you go. You’ve been running close to 8 years now, almost a decade. Ever since Natasha Romanoff sent the Red Room hurdling from the sky and freed every Widow in the process, including you. How you got here exactly was a very long story, with parts you would rather not relive.

You looked out the window of the bus, filled with thoughts of nothing but warm places with lots of sun and color with next to no people around. You could probably stay there longer than usual, hell maybe forever if you were careful. You could feel a small smile gracing your features as you thought of a nice, quaint home; decorated with plants, a nice kitchen to practice cooking in–oh and a sunroom that doubled as a greenhouse of sorts. You started making a list of flowers you would like to grow when you felt a sudden, foreign weight on your shoulder. You turned your head away from the silver light of the window towards the dark mess of curls next to you. You recognize him almost immediately, you don’t know his name but he always got off at that museum you’ve been meaning to visit, he always looked so tired with dark almost bruise like circles under his eyes; his dark hair almost in a permanent state of unkempt. You looked at his face a bit longer before your eyes trailed to his hands, his knuckles were white with how harshly he was gripping his bag and sweat was starting to form on his brow. A nightmare. You got those as well.

As gently as you could you shook him, it didn’t take much until he bolted upright and took a few very sharp breaths. You could see his eyes dart erratically in fear before finally settling on you, you couldn’t help but remark on the lovely shade of brown his eyes were. A moment or two passed by before his eyes met the ground and his cheeks flushed.

“I’m so sorry” he hurriedly apologized, eyes still trained on the ground, “didn’t realize I nodded off there.”

“It’s quite alright,” you assured smiling gently at him, “if you don’t mind me asking but do you suffer from nightmares often?” his eyes went from the ground back at you, “I don’t mean to pry it’s just that I’ve seen you a few times on here and you always look exhausted.”

“Yeah um,” he cleared his throat, “I, uh, I would guess so– not that I can’t tell the difference– it’s just complicated to explain–not that I wouldn’t tell you if I could, it’s just the best way I can explain it and I probably sound like such a knob.” You hold in a slight chuckle as his cheeks flush even more.

“I don’t think so,” you say, “I get those kinds of dreams often as well. The ones you feel like they belong to someone else…but not at the same time, I guess it really is difficult to explain out loud.” you hold out your hand and introduce yourself as the man beside you hesitantly accepts it.

“Steven Grant.”

///////////////////////////////////////////////////

That was almost a year ago, after introducing yourselves you gave him your number (which he called not even an hour after he got off the bus). At first you would just meet up for tea but tea quickly became more intimate. You would call each other during the nights that were the hardest to sleep or to dream. You would tell him about your hope to live somewhere remote one day, in a place full of sunshine and color and he would be silent and listen. It wasn’t long until he confided in you about his condition, and you met Marc Spector and Jake Lockely respectively.

You weren’t sure why but when Marc appeared he seemed familiar, for a moment you wondered if you had met him at some point but you were sure that you would’ve remembered. The Red Room forced you to have a good memory after all.

Jake on the other hand was completely different from Steven and Marc, where Steven was shy and Marc stiff, Jake was suave. He had kissed your hand and said dirty things to you in spanish, to which you surprised him by replying fluently and dirtier.

After some time you grew comfortable with Marc and Jake and went on dates with them as well. For a while you were happy, first time ever since coming to London. You were practically living in Steven’s small flat and you spent your days living as a normal person would. You pretended not to notice the weird things, like them leaving in the middle of the night or the strange looks they would sometimes get looking at absolutely nothing. You never pried or judged, it wasn’t like you aired out all the skeletons in your closet either. You never told them your real name (or at least the name the Red Room gave you) or where you came from or basically anything of substance at all about your past. You didn’t want to, it wasn’t like you didn’t trust them, but you feared what would happen if you did tell them. Tell them your real name, that you used to be a Black Widow and killed people. That the reason why you hated the color red was because it reminded you of the Red Room and the blood that stained your hands, how your nightmares were memories and that ghosts that haunted you refused to die.

Somewhere along the way you started to forget that this life you were living with your job and your boys wouldn’t last forever. That sooner or later reality creeps in and brutally murders the fantasy you have created and as you hold the almost expired passport in your hand you remember the cold truth. That you never should’ve gotten involved, that you slipped and got attached and worst of all..you’d gotten someone else attached as well. Without you knowing the year you had left in London was almost up, in less than two months you will be off again to a new corner of the world with a new name and a new life.

Deep down though you knew, knew that you couldn’t not go. Choosing to remain this person you’ve created with her perfectly normal job with her perfectly normal life with her not so normal–but still perfect–boyfriend was never an option. Too many people want you, for various reasons from recruitment to revenge for what you did as a Widow; and those people would stop at nothing to get to you, even if that meant hurting someone you’ve loved.

You’re doing this, for them, you had to leave. There was no other option, and it was better to break it off now rather than leaving in the middle of the night. You fought the urge to be selfish, to keep living this life with them until you board your one way flight. So with a deep breath you stuffed your passport back into its folder in the drawer you owned and grabbed your trench coat and umbrella. You did not let a single tear fall as you hauled a cab to take you to the familiar route to their flat. You tried not to think at all, you knew if thought for a little too long you would talk yourself out of this. You knew this would probably be easier over text, you wouldn’t need to tell those big brown eyes goodbye and see them fill with tears or hate. It would be so easy…but you couldn’t. You knew that if you didn’t end it in person Steven, Marc, or Jake would show up at your door and wouldn’t leave until you did what you were doing right now. Telling them in person that it was over.

You didn’t waste time when the cab stopped in front of his building, you told the driver to wait and that you would be back down in just a few moments. Your heels clacked against the wet pavement towards the door which a kind, elderly neighbor of Steven’s you’ve gotten to know opened the door for you to which you smiled and thanked him. Every move you made was robotic, you weren’t even thinking you were just on auto pilot. Hoping that they wouldn’t be able to tell the slight shake in your hand or how stiff you were. You reminded yourself that you were doing this for them, and for you as well.

You entered the lift and pressed the button for their floor, the fluorescent light flickers a few times and the hum and rattle of the wires lifting the metal box do nothing to quiet the thrumming of your heart. Seconds pass by like hours before finally the sliding doors reveal the dimly lit hallway. One you’ve walked through dozens of times by now looks more like death row. You let not one tear drop as you walked, you couldn’t–you couldn’t let those doubting thoughts and happy memories pass through your head as you knocked on his door. Hearing a shuffling and the clattering of dishes before you hear them walk to the door. You could tell by the slight difference in gait that Steven was fronting and it hurt. You had hoped silently that it wouldn’t be him, your sweet Steven, with his unkempt curls and goofy grin. One who read you facts about Egyptian mythology and ancient history during stormy nights, who woke you from nightmares and held you gently like you were the most precious thing to ever exist. The sleepy man on the bus who laid his head on your shoulder and slept, who called you not even an hour after giving him your number. Please not him.

He opened the door and sure enough it was Steven.

“There you are love,” He said, a wide smile adorning his face as he ushered you in, “Me and the boys were wondering where you were,” he kissed your cheek and took your coat, “dinners almost ready if you need to wash up.” You stood there motionless, unsure of what to do. This wasn’t the first time you’ve cut ties with someone that you’ve cared for. However this was different, he was different. Steven, Marc, and Jake were probably the first people you’ve ever loved. You would do anything for them, anything, as long as they lived and were content and happy.

Even if it meant hurting them.

Even if it meant you could only watch from afar.

You took in a deep breath, willed your heart to stop beating before speaking.

“Steven.” He stopped immediately, you never called him by his name, only ever called him your sweetheart, or baby, or whatever other nickname came into mind but never his name. He turned away from the little stovetop and looked at you. You willed your voice to not falter as you continued, “we all need to talk.”

“Oh god,” Steven whispered, “how bad?”

“We need to talk,” You said not answering, “please.”

Wordlessly Steven turned the stove off as he made his way to you, you held up your hand when he was only a few steps away.

“Are they present?” You asked.

“They weren’t before but now they are,” He said, eyes furrowing in worry, “we’re starting to get a little worried love what’s going on?”

“I,” you start before swallowing the lump that has suddenly formed in your throat, “I’ve gotten a call from the main office, they’re relocating me in a few months to help on a different classified project.”

“Oh,” Steven said with confusion written all over his face, “where?”

“That’s classified.” You said, nails biting into your palm to stop yourself from getting emotional.

“When will you be back?”

Silence fills the room, you bite back the urge to say anything that would give him hope. After a few seconds you see his eyes widen as he looks at the mirror beside you.

“No,” he said to the mirror, “no, no she’s not,” he turns to you with tears pricking his dark eyes making them shine, “love, tell them that you’re not-”

“I am,” you say, careful to keep a cold tone despite the urge to cry, “I’m not coming back. It’s a permanent relocation.”

“But you can still come to visit,” he says hurriedly, tears still pricking his eyes as he runs a hand through his hair, “we-we, we can um, we can face-call or um, or we can text and call and we can make this work, I know we can make this work love.” you opened your mouth to say something when he cut you off, a few tears leaking through and leaving wet streaks down his cheek, “or you could tell them no, tell them that you refuse the offer!”

“I can’t say no,” you said gently.

“Yes you can,” Steven said, his large hands gripping your shoulders, “you can tell them no.”

“I can’t Steven,” you tell him, “I’ll lose my job if I do and I can’t.”

“Then we can face call,” he says, his hands now cradling your face, leaving small kisses on your face that feel like knives in your heart, “we can make this work.”

“We can’t,” you said as you gently pry his hands from your face, you reach into your pocket and grab the spare key he gave you after a month into your relationship and put it in his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Wait,” Steven says silently, his head hung, his crying seemingly subsided “can you please stay, stay with me, be with me until you go.”

A moment of silence happens, for a moment you reconsider, but then you kiss his lips. Salt and vegan chocolate stain your tongue until you pull back, resting your forehead against his momentarily. You imagine what life you could’ve had with them, one full of good days and bad days. You’d adopt a cat with him, you would laugh as he declared the cat his mortal enemy for looking at Gus for a moment too long. You’d save up together and buy a nice cottage in the countryside, maybe you’d get married, maybe you wouldn’t. But you could imagine what it would be like to grow old with him, when your hair would turn white and gray, when your skin would start to sag and he would still be there to tell you you’re as beautiful as the day he met you on that small bus all those years ago. It’s a nice life, one you know you would be more than content with.

But you know it’s not a life you can have.

“Goodbye.”

With that you left, closing the door behind you and walking to the lift. Walking away from the life you knew you could never live, not without constantly looking over your shoulders. You knew secrets always have ways of coming to the light, so even if you did stay how long would it be until he discovered yours. How long until he has a gun to his head and a target on his back? No, this was the choice, this was the only option. You made the right call, while you may not get to live that life; he still could. He’ll find someone else, someone to love and who will hopefully love him as much.

The doors slid closed and the wires hummed and groaned as they lifted you back down where the cab was waiting. You decided to walk and paid the cab for their time. You knew with the heels you were wearing you would regret it later but you didn’t care, you needed some time to think. You walked through the lit streets, you watched as people laughed and a few occasionally public criers. You stopped and waved at the living statue man that Steven introduced to you before walking on. This was a path that you and the boys would walk sometimes, they didn’t like going out much and neither did you, but the exercise did you good. You checked your phone to see how much time you had left before you had to board your flight. It seemed like you had enough time to go home, grab your duffle and carry on before the cab you called before you left arrived.

“Excuse me miss,” You turned to see a little girl no older than ten addressing you. She was a small thing, with dark curls and even darker eyes, she dressed as a white gown with a flower crown. “Do you care for some flowers?” You remember briefly seeing similarly dressed kids in the plaza not too far away, you gathered that maybe she had wandered away from the group unnoticed.

“You know what,” You kneeled down to her height, “I would love some flowers, but first let’s get you back to your group alright?” the girl looked around as if she’s realizing she’s not where she’s supposed to be, for a moment you’re worried about her crying as you see tears start forming in her eyes. You take the hand not holding onto the small basket of flower seeds gently, “don’t cry little one, we’ll get you back to your group all safe and sound.” You see her nod as she holds your hand in her tiny one as you lead her back to the brightly lit plaza just a few buildings away. She points to two women frantically looking and calling out a name. You let her hand go and watch as she runs towards who you assume are her mothers.

“Oh my stars,” you hear the taller woman breathe out in relief, “where did you run off too?”

“I-I went to go give flowers.” You heard the little girl sniffle before she pointed at you, “she helped me.” You gave a small awkward smile and wave before the smaller woman gave you a hug.

“Thank you so much,” She said before letting you go. “We were talking with the play director for one mo and the next-”

“No need,” you said, “she’s a sweet kid, adventurous too apparently.”

“You have no idea.” the mother sighed as she looked at the now giggling child in her wife's arms, “Angie loves to get into trouble.” you see her smile before returning her gaze back to you, “anyways thank you again.”

“No problem,” you say before turning your eyes towards Angie and her taller mother, “it was nice to meet you, and you too Angie–listen to your mum’s.” you went to walk away before you felt a soft tug on your sleeve. You looked down to see Angie holding up a packet of flower seeds to you.

“Here’s your flower miss,” Angie said sweetly, tears long gone, “thank you for helping me find my mum’s.” you gently take the packet of seeds from her and smile,

“you’re welcome, good luck with your play.” You said as you waved her goodbye as she went to take her place next to the various other children in similar attire. You stood there a moment longer, watching this small family you’ve encountered. All you’ve ever known of family was what the Red Room told you of. Your birth certificate was destroyed along with every other Widow’s, even then you doubt that your parents still walked the earth. Dreykov wasn’t one to leave loose ends.

You walked away from the plaza then, away from the brightly lit place and back onto dimly lit streets making your way past the few passersby and back to your building where a single duffle bag and carry on waited for you.

You had been brave the entire day, you had not let a single tear drop but once the door to your flat closed behind you all the resolve you had crumbled. You slid down the door as tears profusely fell down your cheeks leaving hot traces behind. You couldn’t hold back the sobs that had threatened to come out earlier. Your fingers shakily trace your lips as you hold onto the last kiss you shared with him. Your hand then went to your chest and clutched the material of your shirt as a sharp, throbbing pain in your chest grew. Every part of you was screaming, all for different things. There was physical pain like the ache in your feet and the pain in your chest, but the emotional pain–that was the worst of it. This was the kind of pain that teetered between hell and heaven.

So this was it.

This was heartbreak.

You don’t know how long you stayed there–teetering–but you knew you couldn’t be long. Soon you would have to pick yourself up, bite through every step as though it didn’t feel like you were walking on glass, grab that duffle and carry on, and leave. You let out a bitter smile as you remember that fateful day you met your boys, how you were planning on what flowers to plant in that dream home of yours. You reached into your pocket and grabbed that small bag of flower seeds.

Purple Hyacinth.

Sorrow

You laughed at the irony.

How fitting.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“What do you mean my flight is canceled?”

“Just what I mean ma’am, the weather report-”

“It’s bloody London, has there ever been a clear sunny sky in London?”

“No..bu-”

“Alright,” you sigh, pinching the bridge between your brows, “I’m not trying to be difficult, I know you’re just doing your job, are there any flights cleared to take off?” You see the person type a few buttons on their keyboard and a few clicks of the mouse before looking back at you with false sympathy.

“I’m sorry ma’am all the ones cleared already took off.”

Shit, that leaves you with two options: going back to the flat or staying at the airport until morning…with a sigh you grab your bags and get ready to grab a late taxi back to your place. At least there you could shower and cry in private. First thing tomorrow morning you’ll get on the next plane to, you look at your ticket again Cincinnati, Ohio. At least you won’t stay there, your inside guy did you a solid and got you away from people. You’ll be in a small property big enough for one in a small town. It wasn’t ideal but at least you were away from the city stench. You’ll have to drive to places this time instead of hailing a cab, but you didn’t mind. All in all, it was an ok set up, much more preferable than your previous arrangement.

You tried to hail a cab for ten minutes, everyone that passed was either already paid or just didn’t see you. Eventually you thought you were going to have to bite the bullet and sleep on the uncomfortable airport lounges when a cab finally pulled up. You thanked god as you put your luggage in the trunk and got into the backseat.

“Where to miss?” the man asked, you didn’t even look at him as you replied. Instead watching the water drip steadily down the window pane.

“Too bad for the weather eh?” This driver asked in a thick cockney accent.

“Yeah I guess,” you replied, “though I guess it fits.” silence passes before he replies.

“Tough day issit?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” you said, closing your eyes, “it just doesn’t end.”

“Know what that’s like,” he replies, “I had a share of bad days myself.”

“Oh yeah?” You responded.

“Like today,” You hear him respond, “I burned my hand while making dinner for me and my girlfriend, we’ve been going on for a year or so by now. She is the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen, inside and out. Anyways the day only gets worse from there, she comes about half an hour early to dinner without warning. I knock my poor toe on the way to the door to let her in; hurt like anything. So I open the door, she’s as radiant as ever, only she’s got this sad look in her eyes, something I’ve never seen before. Turns out, she’s been lying to me… she said her job was taking her away and that she wouldn’t be able to be with us anymore.” a sinking feeling settled into your stomach, “we begged, we pleaded but no. She was adamant, and then she left, without another word. Isn’t that cruel?” You open your eyes to look into the rearview mirror, a chill went through your body as your eyes met a familiar dark pair. “Isn’t it mi carissima?” the accent drops into the deep spanish accent. You’re about to open the door when you feel a pinch on the side of your neck, and slowly the world blurred and then faded into nothing.

(Here's Part 2)

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moodymisty · 7 months

Note

Hi! Can I request someting NSFW with Strife and a female reader please? Maybe with body worship involved? Thank you!

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's note: Hey anon. Sorry for making you wait so long, here's something that's far too long and verbose to not be the musings of a madwoman. I dearly hope this is close enough to what you had in mind, I had to fight it every second of the way.

Summary: Strife will never understand how you can possibly love someone like him, but he’ll greedily eat you up anyways.

Relationships: Strife/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Some light body worship, A bit of praising, This is way longer than I thought it would be please send help but I like writing Strife

Word Count: 5160

Over time you've gotten so used to being the one off-scale in places like the Maker’s Realm, that having your own human sized things in the Tri-Forge seems almost, off-putting.

But with Strife now in your own room in the Tri-Forge, it was easy to see how off scale he was, in a little world meant for a human. The Makers had spent a short while clearing up one of the rubble filled rooms in the back of the Tri-Forge, and had given it to you as a gift after your status got upgraded to ‘semi-permanent’ resident.

It didn't take long to become your own space, filled with little trinkets and doodads that had caught your eye throughout your explorations. Or were given to you; As Karn was particularly fond of giving you small things he thought you’d like that he had found on his various ‘adventures’.

‘It reminded me of ye- I mean, I thought you might like it! Looks ‘bout your size!’

Those things have all been piling up, sitting on what might’ve been part of a flight of stairs at one point, but is now your little display shelf.

“I swear if I didn’t fight them on it every single day, I really do think the Makers would just put me in a little box to keep an eye on me forever.”

Strife doesn’t seem to hesitate even slightest before answering.

“They’ve always been like that. The ‘stuffy, always in your business’ sort. Kind of a mood killer, honestly.”

He’d only just arrived after unleashing a cacophony of clopping hooves onto the weathered stone path of the Tri-Forge, Mayhem snorting as he dismissed the horse and came inside your temporary home. At least, you’d like to think it temporary; As much as you adored the Makers realm and all of it’s inhabitants, Earth was your home. But things were still rubble and chaos down there even as the Makers helped humans pick up the pieces, and on the behest of both Ulthane, Karn, and Strife, you stay here for the time being.

But even if you’d just complained, you still speak up to defend them anyways from Strife's comment.

“Not like I can really blame them, after everything that's happened.” Strife seems to roll his eyes at your defense- you can’t tell with that Nephilim glow- before shaking his hand and speaking again.

“What, am I not a good enough bodyguard for you?”

It’s impossible to let out a nervous laugh at Strife’s response. Especially as it reminds you of an old conversation with Valus; Though it hadn’t been as much of a conversation as it had been a warning. His tone had been firm, the most serious you’d heard from him in the short time you'd known him.

‘Be careful with that one. All the Horsemen bring trouble right with them, but that one? He’s no good. Whatever you see in him, it’s just a trick of the light.’

It was never exactly a secret that the other Horsemen and the Makers are notably not fond of Strife’s attachment to you, though his siblings have somewhat mellowed on the idea somewhat over time. The Makers however, have done anything but. They may be grateful to him for keeping you safe during the moments they can't, but that's as far as their feelings go.

“So would you like an actual response, or an ‘Ohhhh Strife, you’re my hero!’ ?”

You’re kicking off your boots, before you rub a palm across your forehead.

Strife scoffs and watches you pull off the large shawl you have on that the Makers made for you to add to your pile of removed clothing. It completely swamps half your body to protect from the incredibly cold weather, and he finds the almost swaddled appearance adorable. Humans are always so small and delicate, and the Makers aggressive attempts at keeping you warm only make that observation even more obvious. His siblings sometimes remark that it makes Humans innately weaker than the other races; However to Strife, it only serves to highlight that uniquely human ingenuity.

And, he finds it cute. He likes the feeling of looking down on you, seeing you safely in his shadow looking up at him. He'll never admit it to you, however.

“I’ll take the flattery. It always sounds so genuine coming from you.”

Rolling your eyes at he’s so clearly smiling behind the mask, as the tone in his voice easily gives it away.

Strife’s eyes follow your movements as you move to sit upon your bed, and while he has clear interest in the little trinkets you’ve collected like coins and old relics, he ends up focusing on you in the end. Digging through your satchel of clothes to find more comfortable ones you glance to the side to see Strife’s armored shins, while he watches- having taken a spot leaning against the ancient stone wall close to you, arms crossed.

He’s clearly waiting for you to get into the bed, so he can follow shortly behind.

You remember the first time he’d done it; He’d been out of sorts smelling like iron and smoke, and the few words to come out of his mouth were far quieter and more sparse than any other time you'd heard him speak.

You never did figure out what happened, but ever since he always seems to find being close to you one of his only comfortable places. Meanwhile you figure Nephilim were lonely and starved for any non-violent interactions, and everything else only seeks to further that point. Alongside the fact that Strife absolutely melts under any sort of affection, be it verbal or physical. So him being a bit of a cuddlebug seemed like par for the course once he relaxed around you, and especially after that night, you’d never wish him to deal with whatever he’d been consumed by alone; Even if he never tells you what it is.

When this little ritual had morphed into something more than friendship you couldn’t exactly pinpoint, though you never minded.

But it did pose it’s own problems, to a degree. You didn’t have the traditional relationship that you would with another human, keeping you suspended in this weird space. You first kissed Strife awhile ago, known him longer- but this all felt like it was brand new, and nothing new at the same time.

It didn’t help that he’s been gone for a decent while thanks to some troubles; Horsemen business, is the way he likes to describe it when you know he’s uncomfortable saying the real answer.

Strife hates telling you those things and giving glimpses into what he has done, and is doing; As he’s deeply conscientious of you thinking of him the same as the other races think of the Nephilim. Of him.

He’s not a blood-thirsty killer or an old cutthroat for hire when he's around you; He’s just Strife.

“Today was a pain; Alya wouldn’t get off my back about staying inside the Forge because of a snow storm, and neither would Karn.” The scrunched look you have on your face makes him smirk, arms comfortably crossed.

“What, so you don’t like the Makers anymore now?” You shake your head.

“No- I mean, they’re nice enough,” His eyebrows raise beneath the helmet. “But coddling and the ‘oh you’re so small and helpless’ talk, on top of the fact that I have a neck ache from looking up so high all the time… I can’t even walk down a path without Karn being all worried I’m going to trip over a rock.” One hand gets casually thrown out in your direction, armored palm up.

“What you get for being so short, princess.”

You end up throwing him the biggest scowl you can muster, but he only ends up laughing more, finding it endearingly cute. It’s the exact same problem you have with the Makers; Though Strife is a tiny bit more subtle about it. You just wave him off and flop into the bed, face stuffed into the pillow. It feels so nice to be back here, to have the smell of a familiar bed and without a one or more Makers nagging you about getting blown over by a stray breeze.

Even if it isn’t Earth, it’s still become a home.

After you let out a large sigh of relief into the pillow, you manage to grimace and lift up your face; Ignoring the pain in your neck and watching as Strife looks down at you. You know damn well he's smirking by the way his eyes are being pushed upwards by his cheeks.

Not long after Strife strips away plate after plate of heavy armor, it clanking as it falls to the floor before he crams himself into your bed with the same lack of regard he's always had- attempting to nestle against you. The bed frame creaks and groans in a desperate plea for relief under the weight of a Nephilim as he moves to the same position as he always does.

That being curled around you almost completely, an arm laid across your middle keeping your back against his chest and stomach. It feels almost protective; Your much smaller size has always triggered this little feeling in him, wanting to keep you close and away from anything that could possibly hurt you. And for a time before all of this, that had included himself.

But now he has you as a port in the storm; A tiny little bit of sunshine. So he always greedily eats up these rare moments, and often times neglects taking part in such a rare treat as sleep to just admire you.

Though this time he has something else on the mind, seeing the way your clothing is wrapped awkwardly and revealing your shoulder; As you're falling asleep and don't notice how much it's shifted.

You look so soft, the fabric of your clothes laid against your skin. The delicate nature of your features are even more obvious when his left hand moves to even so gently hover just above your shoulder. He doesn't touch you- his hand just stays there his fingers twitching as if wanting to go the rest of the way.

Creator- he doesn’t know how to describe the way he feels when he sees the way his hand can so easily swallow your form like this.

It was a temptation too impossible for him to resist, to lean in closer and press his face into the crook of your neck and feel the warmth of your skin, smelling the faintness of things like pine needles. You always rustled around in the forest far outside the Tri-Forge, snooping where you shouldn’t be. That human curiosity that is the bane of the Makers protective nature.

His as well, however can’t fool himself into thinking that you’re ever completely safe; Not with him.

You’ve almost fallen asleep, incredibly close to fully drifting off until you suddenly felt a surprisingly soft movement on your waist. Strife’s hand had begun to wander back downward, trailing from your waist to your front. His hot breath fans over the crook of your neck, body curled around yours while his arm lays over your stomach. You could feel his hand ghosting over your ribs; Not quite close enough to touch your breast, but only just. It's tantalizingly close to crossing a line you haven't crossed with him before.

“Strife…”

He instinctively groans as if you’re scolding him, but it trails off into a chuckle. Almost as if he knew exactly what you were going to comment about.

“You’re going to start something, if you keep feeling around like that.”

His head rises slightly way from your neck, breath trailing along your cheek as he leans just enough to catch you eyes when you look up at him.

“Am I?”

The comment makes you lose some of your gusto, his lips against your body feeling as if they were making fire, spreading it all across your skin. Quickly your entire face is warm, and would be noticeably hot if you touched it. But even with only a few candles as light, you were still able to see the smile on his face as you turned to look over your shoulder. It was wide and teasing, those small fangs pressing against his lips.

You might’ve commented on how much of an ass he looked with that smirk, until his head lowered back downward and he began once more nipping at the crook of your neck and the desire to do so melted away. With his body now leaning against you it began taking the breath from your lungs -from his sheer weight and the feeling of his teeth grazing your skin. Hot breath rolls over your flesh as he speaks, lips still against you. You can feel them touch your skin right over the pulse of your neck.

“You're so soft, beautiful.”

He was almost nervous about it- marring your soft skin. He's always felt like he had to be so, so careful.

The weight of his body against yours eventually forces you to roll onto your stomach and he follows, now laying over and easily shadowing you. You turn your head just enough that his lips press against yours, before your neck begins to ache and you have to turn away. You feel one of his hands is trailing along your side, pushing up your top to reveal your back and leaving goosebumps on your skin. You sometimes forgot how tall Strife actually is, until moments like this feeling the way he can so easily cage your entire body underneath him like this.

With only the thin cloth he wears under his armor in the way it’s quite easy to feel him against the back of your thigh, while he lays against you. His hand starts drifting downward, pushing the waist of your pants down along with his wandering fingers. You quite eagerly move to take them off, kicking them down underneath the blanket to get bundled up and lost forever. But now his hand is against the side of your thigh, close enough that it has your cunt tightening whenever he drifts closer.

And closer it does drift, with a firm intention as it slips down between your thighs, fingers grazing against your wet outer lips. They drift and drag along your skin, slipping between and becoming covered in your own wetness.

Once they’re so soaked you can hear it, that it's nearly embarrassing, his fingers slowly push and curl around inside of you just enough that you bite your bottom lip; But even despite that, soft noises still escape anyways. You don’t want them too, but Strife wants nothing more than to hear them.

Slowly his fingers curl inside of you and press against your inner walls, grazing against a spot that causes you to gasp as heat blankets your face. Your thighs almost shake with how tense they quickly become.

“You don’t need to be so quiet princess, no one can hear you but me.”

The hand around your mouth loosens slightly, but you still don’t stop attempting to swallow each and every moan. It’s almost embarrassing how loud they are sometimes, enough so to even startle yourself.

Including the one you let out, particularly loud, as his fingers slowly pull from you. His hand's departure leaves you with the momentary feeling of emptiness, whining and adjusting your torso underneath him. But it is only for a moment, as his cock presses against you with a sudden and almost suffocating heat.

Just as he starts to push into you quickly you realize maybe you bit off more than you could chew, gasping at the feeling that happens just before the start of pain.

“S-Strife, slow down a second.” He could hear the shudder in your voice and quickly panicked, wanting to retreat from you.

“Shit, princess I’m hur-” you quickly raised a hand off the pillow to stop him from leaving. “Wait, just give me a second-"

Ever so slowly did you yourself move, eyes closed tight and brow furrowed. You were so cute, making these tiny little noises of effort and he wanted to just rail you. Strife groaned against his teeth- Creator, you feel good.

Strife hisses, feeling your back arch to press your bottom into his hips. Your body had finally started to relax, softly breathing as that stretch bordering on pain slowly wavered away.

“Strife,”

Strife wasn’t used to this, the way you were unafraid to call out to a horsemen, an unholy creation to warm your bed.

But this was, something else. Your body gripped him like a vice; hot, wet, and smelling so sweet. The way your hair moves, hands grasping the pillows, the cries and whines pleading for him. You were downright begging him, mewling like he was the only being you ever needed. Pulling from you and listening to you whine, before his hips snapped to press against the backs of your thighs.

He feels like he's being too rough, but the way you sing for him makes him forget that worry for a moment. If anything you keep begging him for more, pushing your body back against him each time he drives himself deeper into you.

One of his hands grips your hip and pulls them almost impossibly closer, making your back curve ever so slightly. You feel the way it makes your toes curl and teeth hook on your bottom lip.

"I thought, you were cute before, but Creator-"

Strife never thought in his life something would be able to make him snap like this. He’d kill every Angel and demon in the world for this- for you. The way you writhe underneath him and keep whispering his name, to go faster; He thinks once he hears you say you love him.

“Strife, please,” The way you say his name sets him aflame, it laying on your lips and tasting incredible. You've dreamt of this moment before, to have him finally here with you like this...

Fingertips clawing at the sheets you hear the sounds of your bed struggling and creaking underneath the weight.

The bed might not be able to, but you can handle a Nephilim, and God; Does he feel good.

At least, you think you can handle a Nephilim.

There might be a moment or two where you doubt that as you gasp, him brushing against a million little nerves all at once. The way your stomach is tying itself in knots and your face feels almost hot to the touch says otherwise, along with the shaking moans and whines that manage to slip from your lips. You're not going to last much longer in this state, as you feel the weight of his chest against your shoulders and back. The weight is all most too much, but the feeling of him being there, palpable against your is something you'd never wish to get rid of.

You can’t help but cover your mouth, feet kicking and feeling for any sort of purchase as you finally cum, crying out behind your fingers. It’s hard for him to even move with the way your so tight around him, it forces him to slow down to not hurt you.

It’s better than any sort of thought he’d had about you, any dream any memory, to finally feel you like this. He’s thought about it more, and for longer, than he would ever admit to you.

The noises he makes much quieter, a surprise; You’d thought originally he’d be much more loud than he actually. Though maybe it's like when he'd first been hesitant to even touch you, and he needs to warm to the idea. To know that you want to hear him. But he only lets out a soft groan and a muttering of your name, as he finally finishes inside of you.

Him sounding out of breath almost surprises you, but it’s more so the overwhelming heat that lays in his chest than fatigue that has his breathing slightly labored. Even if only for a few moments. Despite his cocky, skirt chaster attitude, Strife hadn't indulged in something like this in a long, long time. Never had someone like you.

He only moves a little after, before stilling completely and listening to the way your breathes gently slow, your groaning at the feeling of being utterly wiped out. Strife gently pulls himself from you but never once stops touching you, feeling his lips against your skin.

It’s after that high, as your heart rate begins to slow and Strife nuzzles at your cheek that you lift your head enough to look around, and see the state of things.

Not only are your blankets pulled awkwardly, there’s two places-where Strife’s hands no doubt were- that were absolutely torn to shreds.

You’d just, deal with it later. The middle of the night isn't a time to begin doing laundry.

You feel so sleepy but something, maybe a noise ,makes you turn your head, and suddenly you notice light bleeding through cracks in the Tri-Forge’s walls; A soft orange.

How much time had passed? It hadn’t felt that late when Strife had ridden up to the Forge during the night; Granted you no longer had a clock to use as a bearing. It was only the rough location of the moon, though you're sure that there's some sort of device that could be more accurate, you've just never bothered to ask for it.

“Shit, is it- Is it really that late?” Strife of course, ever the source of constant and unnecessary comments, attempts to pull you closer to him and turn you away from looking around.

“I think ‘is it really that early?’ is what you should say instead, princess.”

It was a bit of a struggle to avoid the temptation to smack him, so instead you move to just lay against his arm.

But beyond all of the light-hearted humor, there’s a thought floating in the back of your mind; Reminding you only have hours, minutes, before you lose him to his siblings, or to the faceless entity you only know as the Council from Strife’s lips. And much of it you're going to spend sleeping, as unlike Strife, it's a part of live you have to indulge in. Very much so now, as you feel incredibly tired and ready to almost pass out at any moment.

“I’ll miss this, when you leave again.”

Strife finds himself without words for a moment, feeling the way your hand lays against his skin as you sleepily mumble.

Damnable Death; Damn him and his errands.

He should just toss the idea and hold you for a day longer, but he knows in the end, it benefits the realms and their balance. Which in turn protects you as well.

“You won’t even notice I’ll be gone; I’m that quick.” Your smile comes back, he feels it against his skin as he relaxes at your mood improving.

Just after thinking that he waits for a split second before he dares to close his eyes; As if listening for the ghostly whinny of Despair or the thundering hooves of Ruin to come and destroy his moment before it even begins.

But neither happen; The world isn’t crumbling and the Council isn’t calling so he can just lay back, while you lay asleep against his shoulder.

You wake up the next morning sore and limp, muscles almost completely refusing to move. Strife was either still asleep or at least pretending to be, his head tucked tightly into the crook of your neck. His body overtook most of the bed with one leg overflowing off the side, even more so when you ever so slowly moved; Slipping from him and sitting up.

He was still asleep for sure, thankfully. Strife at first had been a very light sleeper, but once he’d gotten used to the idea that you were safe, it’s like all the defenses shut off and he knocks out like a light. With his body weight no longer holding you down, you raise up slightly in the bed and look over you arms and shoulders, noticing the soreness and little marks decorating your skin in the soft light pouring from the cracks in the ceiling. It was like you’d almost been mauled, the way your skin was covered with marks and sore from little bruises. If you could see your neck, you’d imagine it was the worst of it all.

But before you can examine any further, Strife is awake. Raising up on one arm he looms over you, eyes giving a once over. He instantly spots your arms and in the light, notices your disheveled state. “Princess, your…” Strife takes in a breath, and you swear you can almost hear his thoughts in it.

“Shit.”

Even as you look at him his eyes avoid your own, instead focusing on the peppering of hickies on your neck and shoulder. Eventually his hand takes your wrist, and you notice how easily it gets swallowed. He seems to notice as well, if not by the way he’s cradling it as if he’s too nervous to let his hand fully wrap around it. “Sorry ‘bout the battle scars.”

He sounds like he’s joking, but you can tell by the look on his face that he’s more than a little bit upset with himself. You attempt to grip him and keep him from falling down that whirlpool of self-loathing before he sinks too deep.

“They don’t hurt, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Strife is still holding on, letting out a breathy laugh.

“That’s what everyone says.” They aren’t deep, not nearly enough even bleed, and so Strife eventually lets your wrist gently fall from his hand. You take it back and look up at him.

“Want something to eat?”

You see a momentary glance of his bright eyes as he looks over his shoulder at you while sliding off the bed. Picking up pieces of armor off the ground he slowly began putting it back on, metal clinking against metal as each piece gets tightened into place.

It’s a rare moment to be able to take it off, and have a rare moment of relaxation, but in the end it’s only a moment.

Being a Horsemen, he wasn’t supposed to have these sorts of indulgences anyways.

“Can’t stay any longer; Hell, I’m not even supposed to be here right now.” That catches your interest.

“And where are you supposed to be?”

He’s buckling the belt that holds his gun holsters as he lets out a breath, sounding more like an exasperated sigh. Apparently it was a loaded question.

“Somethin’ Death wanted me to do. Figured he wouldn’t mind if I took a little detour.” It wasn’t like Death hadn’t been expecting it.

I know where you’ll be going first; Make it fast, will you?

The look you end up giving Strife isn’t the most approving, but it’s a bit too late to tell him not to do that now. Though it wasn’t as if you would’ve really meant it, given that would involve Strife not being here. If he’s going to shrug off his duties, you’ll take the few more moments you get with him without complaint.

“S’on the way, anyways.”

Standing upright you move to step in front of Strife and look up at him; Managing to catch one last glimpse of his face before his helmet is secured back in place.

“Then you best get it done, before Death realizes you shirked out.” Strife lets out a decently loud laugh knowing well that Death already does, and hates that fact more than almost everything else about him.

“Let me at least walk with you out of the Tri-Forge, before you disappear.”

Strife wouldn’t have the heart to refuse you, so he waits until you’re dressed and walks with you, all the way down the long pathway out of the Forge, and into the wide stone path towards the plains outside.

He assumes you aren’t able to feel it, but Strife knows well that the Makers are watching him with you, and distinctly are not pleased.

He’s not surprised; He knows quite well the Makers aren’t fond of him, putting it in the nicest way possible. They especially aren’t now, knowing that he’s within arms distance of you. They’ve become exceedingly protective, over the short time they’ve known you. And a Horsemen is a thing you protect from, not get protected by. At least in their eyes.

But he refuses to let it bother him, getting past where Valus would be had he not been talking to Muria, and outside onto the lush grass. Avoiding an unsavory encounter is good, but sometimes Strife feels that in the end, they have it right to worry about you being so close to him.

It’s here that he finally whistles to summon Mayhem from thin air, the horse appearing from a cloud as if a ghost. He knows well you adore the steed and gives you a minute, smiling behind his helmet at the way you perk up as the horse comes towards you. The minute he’s close enough you pet the amount of hide you can reach in between the seams of plated armor, watching the way the horse’s ears twitch as big eyes stare you down.

You know that Mayhem, much like his rider, is the most fickle of all the Horsemen’s steeds; So you get a little bit of pride knowing the horse lets you touch him.

“Mayhem! How’s Strife been treating my favorite horse?”

The horse whinnies at you, snorting as his massive body shakes at the shoulders and rustles his mane. The chains of his reins and armor clink against each other, the sounds of metal ringing loudly over the peaceful quiet of the realm.

“You know enough horses to play favorites?” Strife crosses his arms and watches the way you look up at him, hands cupped around Mayhem’s snout.

“I've met Ruin once. So technically, I can play favorites with otherworldly horses.” It makes Strife laugh, but, he also can’t help but get the tiniest bit of pride.

But either way, he has to leave you.

Moving to grasp at the saddle-horn he easily throws himself onto the heavily armored horse’s back, sitting himself aloft far higher than you are. You barely reach his knee, on a horse this tall.

To think you used to be petrified of him, of both of them, and now you can easily rub Mayhem’s snoot and coo at a horse meant to symbolize eternal chaos and unrest.

“See you soon, princess. Don’t miss me too much?” He watches you smile up at him.

“I’ll try.”

He gives you a wave and you smile back watching as Mayhem begins kicking up dirt, running off and leaving you alone again.

#strife x reader #darksiders strife x reader #Darksider/Reader #darksiders strife x you #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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