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toxicanonymity · 8 months

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Midnight Snack.

3.4k slasher!Joel x f!reader

slasher Joel masterlist | spotify SUMMARY: Joel has dinner with his Mom, then visits you. A/N: Shoutout to @iamasaddie for the master list mood board magnets, @gasolinerainbowpuddles for the edit and divider, fridge magnet anon ask, @thesummerpetrichor , anyone I'm forgetting? WARNINGS: I8+ dubcon unsafe p in v, creampie, light somnophilia, choking, lewd degradation, home intrusion, manual restraint, spitting, toxic parental issues, angst/insecurity, changes POV, NO Y/N.

“I said I’m good, Ma,” Joel grumbles as his mom puts another heaping spatula of casserole on his plate anyway. He sighs and pushes it around with his fork.

“What’s got ya down, hun?”

“Nothin’.”

“It’s a girl, ain’t it?” She smiles. “Knew it. Last time ya were here, ya had that glow," she nods, then registers his sullen face again. "It's okay, hun. Whatever it is, you'll work it out.".

He hasn't stopped thinking about you since he was there. When he drives, when he showers, when he goes to bed, when he jacks off—he sees the desire in your eyes when you’re pinned against the counter. He sees your dripping hole stretched around his fist. He thinks about you every time he uses his wrench. Still smells like your filthy cunt.

"Tell me 'bout her,” his mom urges.

“Can't,” Joel mumbles. “Don’t got a girl.”

His mom looks at him knowingly. She always sees right through him. He doesn’t like how close they are, but in a way, she’s his only friend. He fails to suppress a little smile, then looks down shyly at his plate and finally takes a bite.

She asks, “How’d ya meet?”

Joel gives her a half-serious cautionary look and keeps chewing.

“Work?” his mom prods.

Joel swallows, nods, and takes a sip of milk. “Gave'r a ride.”

Two rides, really. Although you took the second one all on your own. And damn, it was good. He shifts in his seat.

“Well, great,” his mom lights up. “When ya gonna see her again?” She dabs her mouth with a cloth napkin and stands up.

“I dunno, Ma. . .She’s too good for me.”

She huffs, adjusts her glasses, then walks over. She playfully whips him on the shoulder with the fabric napkin, then puts her finger in his face. “Don’t you ever say that. No one’s too good for my boy.” She takes his glass to the kitchen and pours him some more milk, then sits back down at the table.

“already left me once,” Joel grumbles.

His Mom’s face falls, then sours.

“Then she’s not worth your time." She scoffs. Or anyone else’s."

“She’s different, Ma," he mutters deadpan, then quieter, he adds, "Sometimes I think she likes me," with the slightest lift of his brow.

Mrs. Miller's eyebrows shoot all the way up. "Well, she should!"

"'mixed signals." He’s saying too much, but he can’t stop. It’s not like he has anyone else to talk to.

"Bring'er for dinner," she suggests.

"Ain't like that," he sulks. "We don't-" He cuts himself off and sighs, sitting back in his chair. He puts his napkin on his plate. "Shouldn't'a mentioned it," he mumbles.

His mom reaches across the table for his hand, and he gives it to her. He looks at the delicate, paper-thin skin covering the veins on her hand. It makes him sad. He wants to bring a girl home. He wants to make his Mom happy. He doesn't come by enough. She must be so lonely. And he's the one who. . .no, his father deserved it, he reminds himself for the millionth time in his life. He didn’t love them, his mom said. Resentment begins to overtake his guilt. He doesn’t want to feel sorry for her. He steels himself and decides to feel nothing.

"Look at me, Joel." She looks him in the eye. "You're not gonna get a wife like this, honey." Joel swallows and looks down. She continues, "Don't be a quitter. She's yours if you want her." Don’t be a quitter.

The buzzer for the laundry goes off. Mrs. Miller starts to head to the laundry room, but Joel stops her. "Feel like a loser when ya do my laundry."

She shakes her head in disapproval and starts clearing the table instead. "My son. . .” she picks up both their plates. ". . .Is not a loser."

Joel finishes his laundry, watches some tv with her while she knits, then pulls himself away. His Mom sends him on his way with an old tupperware of casserole. "Go get her," she tells him with a wink.

—-

He wants to make a move. He wants to fuck you again, but he isn’t sure how. How do people do it? He doesn't know how to ask you out, or what you'd do together. Every time he thinks about it, he feels stupid, but he does wanna see you. He wants to be inside you. He wants to make you purr, little sex kitten.

At this hour, you’re probably out whoring, but he might as well drive by while he’s close. All your lights are off, but your car is there. Hmm. He can't bring himself to go home. Don’t be a quitter. He sits in his car at the end of your street. Last time he came over, it went pretty well. You wanted him to fuck you, and he did. You wanted more, and he gave you more. Then he left before you could leave him.

He feels like you’re special, but he really only knows a few things about you. Most importantly, you like the danger, you want the thrill, you want his dick, and you sure can take a cock.

The only thing he can think to do is give you more of what he knows you want. Even if you're asleep, you'll be purring for it as soon as he drags you out of bed and pins you on the floor. He pictures a knife at your throat. Not a big one, just his switchblade.

He gets out of his car and adjusts his balls, spreading his feet for a moment. Then he starts walking to your house. After a few seconds, he goes back to his car for the casserole. Maybe you'll have a midnight snack after he stuffs you full of his cock. He rolls his eyes at himself. That’s stupid.

—-

There's a lamp with a dying bulb barely flickering on your back patio with a couple of moths fluttering wildly around it. Joel looks into your dark kitchen and scowls at his reflection in the glass. He holds the Tupperware under his elbow and picks the lock with ease. After stepping into your kitchen, he quietly slides the door shut behind him. His boots thud stickily as he takes his first steps on the linoleum. Do you ever mop? He holds his switchblade open in the air. He’s headed toward the hall where he expects your bedroom is. He inches through the kitchen--between the counter on his left and the stove on his right, until he gets to your fridge.

The surface of the fridge is peppered with magnets--souvenirs, letters of the alphabet, bottle openers. It's silly. But a piece of paper catches his eye and he stops dead in his tracks. It's pinned to the fridge by a "J," and an "X" and an "O." He blinks and squints, but his eyes don't deceive him. It's his drawing of you, legs spread wide open. His chest flutters looking at his sketch of your cunt hung proudly on your fridge. His dick twitches, and he inhales sharply. His mouth is watering. He dips the tip of his thick pinky between his lips and dribbles a string of saliva on the paper, right between your legs. He tilts his head and admires the way your graphite cunt glistens.

You want him. You really want him. His body relaxes. He closes and pockets his switchblade. He opens the fridge as quietly as possible and puts the casserole on the top shelf, pausing to survey the scant contents. Mostly condiments. Takeout containers. Beer. Expired orange juice. He closes the fridge.

The microwave is hanging down from a cabinet to his left. He steps in front of it and bends his knees enough to push back his hair in the reflection. He stands up again, squares his shoulders, then prowls in silence to your bedroom.

---

The door is open. Of course it is. You want him. His boots are quieter on your carpet. He approaches the foot of your bed but doesn't get closer. You're occupying less than half the bed. You're just as pretty in your sleep. All bundled up. He knew that already. He gets harder, recalling the time he woke you up with his cock inside you. God, you're sexy. How'd he get so lucky that a hot little slut like you wants him so bad?

He goes to the other side of your bed. His side. There’s a chair full of dirty clothes. He sits down on them and takes off his boots. He stands up again and lowers the zipper of his jumpsuit, pressing down on his bulge to get the zipper over it without snagging. Then he peels the sleeves off and brings it down over his ass and meaty thighs. He lets it pool at his feet and steps out of it.

He's left wearing a blue soft wash t-shirt, lighter blue striped boxers, and white socks with holes. He takes those socks off too. He approaches your bed, lifts the covers with care, and sees what you're wearing. You're wearing the shirt–he recognizes its condition. God damn, you really do want him.

Joel gradually lets his weight onto your mattress as he slips under the covers. His heart races and his forehead is damp. His cock is so hard just from being close to you. He lies there perfectly still on his side for a moment, watching your back as you breathe. Then he scoots forward, inch by inch, until his leg hair brushes your bare legs and you jerk in your sleep.

"Shhh. It's just me," he whispers as he wraps his hulking arm over you. He spoons you and lightly presses his hard cock against your ass. You moan in your sleep and push back, then he moans.

You jerk in your sleep again, but this time you don't relax. You startle awake. You gasp and whimper. Your limbs thrash, and his arm tightens around you. You squeal, and his massive hand covers your mouth. He wasn't expecting your feisty side, kitten. He came to give you what you want.

Why don’t you want him anymore?

-----you-----

Pure instinct kicks in when you wake up with someone in your bed. Your heart is pounding, you thrash and kick with all your might trying to get away. He covers your mouth and repeats “It’s me, sweetheart. God damn.” He sounds confused and irritated at your reaction. His voice is familiar, but it takes you a moment to place it, despite thinking about him all the time in waking life. It's like your subconscious hasn't caught up with reality, and can you blame it?

"Would you stop? Damn," he pants, getting more irritated as you continue to struggle and his arm tightens more, compressing your chest. What did he expect breaking into your house and getting into your bed?

You feel his hard dick press against your loose sleep shorts and get butterflies in your core, even as you continue struggling. He backs up for a moment and the pull of his arm forces you onto your back. He pins you with his left forearm on your chest and aggressively yanks down your shorts then kicks them all the way off before getting between your legs. His hard cock lays against your clit, separated only by his boxers, and you're throbbing. Your efforts to free yourself get weaker and weaker until you’re just lying there, staring up at him, your chest getting sore under his arm.

“What are you doing here?” you ask. He doesn’t answer, just breathes heavily.

He’s scowling down at you with a fine mist of perspiration along his hairline. He presses his cock against your mound again. Over a long moment of silence, an electric charge passes between your eyes and his. He slightly tilts his head and looks at your mouth. You reach for the back of his neck and feel the cold sweat under your palm as you pull him down, drawing his face to yours.

Your mouths meet but don't seal, and you find your lips reaching for his, wanting something to hold, something to suck–but he devours you without granting you any bit of control. You whimper as he kisses you hungrily, hard cock throbbing against your aching clit. He kisses you sloppily, biting your lower lip, dragging his tongue across it to the corner where he pauses and presses his teeth into your cheek and grunts with a slow thrust against you. Then he drags his lips and tongue down your jaw as you tilt your chin up.

He latches onto your neck with an "mm" and his hips begin to grind his thick erection against you at a slow rhythm. He grunts and his breath is humid with a moan against your neck before he latches onto it again. You feel the delicate skin bruising under his mouth while your pussy is gushing wet. You tilt your hips and wrap a leg around him. He groans at your slick, throbbing cunt against his cock.

He murmurs into your neck, “God damn, you’re a slut for my cock,” then chuckles. “Aren’t ya, kitten?”

He lifts his pelvis off you to massage your cunt aggressively with his hand. You whine and he gives a low whistle. Then he urgently takes his boxers down and you help him, curling a toe into the waistband once his boxers get down to his thighs. You drag your foot down between his legs to his feet, taking his boxers with you. . He kicks them off the rest of the way. Before he lays his hips back into you, you reach for his balls, longing to feel the heft of them. It sends a bolt of desire through you. Fuck.

"What's wrong with you?" You ask, but you're really asking yourself. You’re asking yourself why you've got this sicko in your bed, someone unhinged enough to break into your house not once but twice and all you want is his cock.

"Me?" He asks. "the fuck is wrong with you?" He wraps a hand around your throat. “Playin’ games with me,” he growls bitterly. “Ya want it, ya don't, ya want it–” you cough under his grip as he reads your eyes, then he whispers, "want it" with a small nod, and takes his hand away.

He notches his tip at your entrance then breathes, "don't ya?--uggghh" As he shoves into you. “Want it, you’ll get it,” he pants as his cock parts your walls. His cock spreads you wide open as he gives you his full length, and you gasp as he bottoms out. He withdraws a few inches and hangs his head to watch you swallow him back up.

"God damn," he murmurs. "Forgot how tight ya were before." Your clit twitches at the thought of the wrench.

Then his eyes come to your chest and the ripped shirt he gave you. He moans at the sight of your nipple poking through one of the slashes and he covers it with his mouth as he fucks you. His wide tongue drags under your nipple and wets the curled edges of the slash in the shirt before his lips seal around your nipple. He brings his hips back and pushes into you again, sucking and moaning into your tit. Your eyes fixate on his triceps nearly bursting out of his sleeves and that’s the first time it hits you that he was already in sleepwear. He undressed and got in bed with you. God, he’s weird. And you. You're. . . You don't know, but your hands are gliding on their own over his muscular back, feeling him flex as he pounds you.

You find your fingers curling under the bottom hem of his shirt and he reaches one hand behind his back to help you remove it. You can't see much, but when the angle shifts, the moonlight catches enough to tell you his body has really been through it. When his head dips to your neck again you watch his hulking back muscles and see lines whiter than his skin. At least a dozen, overlapping lashes. You run your hand over it and the slight change in texture makes you wince with the confirmation. No telling how old they are.

On his front, there’s a short straight line near his shoulder and a longer, thinner one on his side, curving around near his v muscle. Your thumb drifts to that one. Joel shivers at the touch, then slams his hips into you harder. You quickly abandon it, sliding your hand up his side, then to his pec. A wicked smile spreads across half his face as your hand runs across his chest. "Y'ain't scared, are ya?" He asks, breathing heavily with his cock dragging heavily in your dripping wet cunt.

“No.” You thumb his nipple.

He lowers himself and lets the weight of his middle onto you with a sigh, still railing his length into you. You wrap both legs around him, and he breathes "yeah, mmmgg baby, yeah" as he fucks you deeper.

Your nipples go fully erect. "Fuck," he breathes when he feels them. He grinds against your clit as he fucks you, and you feel a climax looming. The thought crosses your mind whether he's going to kill you one of these days and your chest erupts in goosebumps. Your face feels cold.

As though reading your mind, he says, “don’t whore around on me” He reads your eyes then adds, "n' you'll be fine," with a small nod, a brief smile, and harsh thrust.

You can't help but crack a smile at the absurdity of it. The implied monogamy–on your side, at least. When he registers your amusement, his smile fades into a scowl and his eyes turn black. He grabs your jaw, squeezes it open, and spits in your mouth. He grabs your hand off his chest and pins both your wrists harshly above you, holding them there with one massive hand as he fucks you harder, angrier. He looks down where your bodies meet, and he watches you take his cock again, breathing heavily, sighing and moaning.

Eventually his sour mood subsides, replaced by renewed marvel at your body. "Sure can take a dick." Your hips lift into him, seeking more pressure for your clit, near the edge. "Didn't bring my wrench." He glances around your bedroom. You moan at the thought of him shoving something inside you. Your walls twitch, and the deep groan that leaves his mouth is too much. You grab his ass and pull him deeper using your hands and your legs.

"Fuck, Joel," you breathe, and a new softness spreads across his face.

His mouth falls open and he whispers, "yeah, sweetheart." You bite your lip and groan as a huge orgasm seizes you. "Yeah," he whispers and his eyes map your face as your walls clench around him. "oh fuck," he pants as you cum on his cock. "Fuck," he breathes again, "fuckin love this cunt," he looks you in the eye. "Ohhhh," he groans and begins to pulse inside you. He lowers his face to your neck again and you keep cumming, your body jerking into his. "Yeah, fuck," he manages into your neck as his balls empty into you. "Mmmmm" he thrusts slowly one more time like he can hardly stand the pleasure.

He pushes himself back up to look at you and shudders as you squeeze him with an aftershock.

"'s'okay," he whispers and brushes your temple with his thumb. “ruin ya in the mornin'” In the morning? He wants to stay over? "God you're hot," he chuckles, cock still inside you. After a long moment of silence, he slides his cock out of you and you wince at the void. He lays on his stomach and drapes his arm over you. Your heart races and you can only hope he doesn’t feel it. You don’t want him in your bed right now. He's a novelty and he has to stay that way. Yeah it was fun, it’s been fun. It’s fun. You have his stupid drawing on your fridge, like a wild memory, a souvenir. But this. . . this is unsettling.

You can't get attached to this sicko. But you know better than to try to make him leave. He gets that look in his eye sometimes, and you just don’t know. You take deep breaths and try to plot how you’ll get out of this in the morning. You can say you have to work. Yeah, you’ll say you have to work. Eventually, you drift off under the weight of his arm.

------

Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Love you guys.

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #dark!joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #slasher!joel ☠️#slasher!joel #toxicanonymity ☠️#slasher!joel miller #serial killer!joel miller #tw dubcon #cw dubcon #dark!joel #mama slasher

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mangabtch · 2 months

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Denji 🖤⛓️🩸

#anime #anime and manga #dark aesthetic #darkness #horror manga #manga #manga aesthetic #manga panel #dark art #manga art #chainsaw devil #chainsaw man #csm denji #denji #mama #makima #makima csm

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writerslittlelibrary · 7 months

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I'm your mother now, chapter 2

masterlist series masterlist

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8

summary: when you wake up in a strange room, you soon come to realize the amazing Black Widow, who appears to be the perfect role model for girls all around the world, is greatly deranged…

pairing: Dark!Natasha x teen reader

warnings: yelling, a lot of swearing, dark themes, kinda evil Natasha

genre: angst

words: 2991

a/n: thank you all so much for the love I’ve gotten on chapter 1, I’m so happy you all liked it :)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

After you had finished eating, Natasha and you continued watching the show. At some point, Natasha had gotten up and returned with hot chocolate. She handed it to you and watched very closely as you drank it, making sure you drank it all.

You didn't understand it, but you decided not to question it and decided not to acknowledge the stares she was giving you.

After you finished the hot chocolate, it made sense to you, as you suddenly became extremely sleepy. Natasha had probably drugged the hot chocolate. She didn't make a move to get up though, continuing to watch to show like nothing was going on. You kept yawning, but she didn't acknowledge it. After about half an hour, her phone started ringing. She turned the alarm off and turned to you.

“Time for bed,” she stated as she got up, still wearing a smile on her face. It creeped you out. She seemed… excited, to put you to bed. You were scared. You didn't know what she was gonna do.

You got up slowly, following Natasha as she walked to the stairs and made her way up towards your room. It was now that you noticed it had a name plate on it, decorated with your favorite colors and your name written in your favorite font.

Natasha opened the door, urging you to step inside, then following you and closing the door behind her. You were shaking slightly, scared of what she was going to do now, but she either didn't notice or didn't care. She just walked towards the bathroom door, walking inside and grabbing something, what you could only guess was a toothbrush as you heard the water run for just a moment.

She already knew so much personal information about you, so of course she knew that you wet the toothbrush before brushing your teeth.

She walked back out, looking confused that you hadn't followed her. She walked towards you and placed her hand on your lower back, leading you into the bathroom and handing you the toothbrush. She herself grabbed a hair brush, and she stood behind you as she watched you brush your teeth through the mirror.

When she carefully grabbed your hair you flinched slightly, and she just smiled at you. She started brushing your hair, careful not to hurt you as she brushed all the knots out.

You silently brushed your teeth, watching carefully as Natasha focused on your hair. She was still wearing that creepy smile, and you didn't like how she looked so extremely obsessed with you. When she finished brushing your hair, she put the hairbrush down, parting your hair and making a braid.

She finished quickly, her hands working skillfully as she braided your hair neatly. Once she finished, you decided it was a good time to finish too, so you stopped brushing and went to get a bit of water, but Natasha stopped you with a hand on your shoulder, keeping you upright.

She grabbed the toothbrush from your hand, turning you around and holding your chin with her free hand.

When you didn't immediately open your mouth she frowned. You just looked at her confused. You didn't understand what she wanted. Did she want to inspect your mouth or anything?

“Open your mouth,” she urged, holding up the toothbrush. Your eyes widened, but you didn't open your mouth. “Listen to your mother, y/n. Open your mouth.” You shook your head slightly, and Natasha let go of your chin, only for that same hand to quickly make contact with your cheek. It wasn't as hard as before, but it still stung.

She grabbed your chin again, pulling your face back up towards her. “Open your mouth, sweetie,” she stated calmly, smiling down at you.

Tears stung in your eyes from the pain and embarrassment when you finally opened your mouth, standing absolutely still as she brushed your teeth for you. She finished quickly, pulling the toothbrush from your mouth and kissing your cheek. “Good job for mama,” she said, rinsing the toothbrush and grabbing a cup with water, allowing you to rinse your mouth.

After you were done, she led you back into the bedroom, walking towards the bed and pulling the covers up. She turned around to look at you, and you quickly got in the bed.

Natasha smiled at you as she tucked you in, putting your stuffed animal close to you, making sure you could hug it easily. You yawned again, too tired from the drugs she had put into your hot chocolate, and you fell asleep almost instantly, nice and cosy in the warmth of the bed.

-------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning Natasha woke you up. She had softly knocked on the door before she decided to let herself in, walking towards the curtains and opening them slightly.

You groaned and rubbed your eyes, and Natasha was quick to take a seat next to you on the bed. “How did you sleep princess?” she asked you as she gently wiped some hairs from your face. You shrugged, avoiding her gaze as she smiled down at you. “Not much of a morning person, I know,” she sighed.

“Are you my grumpy little baby?” she teased, leaning slightly closer and rubbing her nose on your cheek softly. You groaned and turned your head away, and Natasha laughed slightly.

“Well it's time to get up. It's time for a bath,” she said as she stood up, walking into the bathroom. You heard her turn on the tab of the bath, tumbling through some cabinets, probably to find some bath soap. Your eyes widened. Was she actually going to give you a bath?

She walked back into your room with a smile, walking towards you and pulling the covers away from you. “Come on, time to pick some clothes for the day,” she urged as she grabbed your hand, pulling you into a sitting position.

You let her lead you as she walked towards the closet. You hadn't taken much time to inspect the kind of clothes in it, but now that you did you noticed the wide variety. All these clothes must've cost a fortune. Natasha walked over to a cabinet, pushing a sliding door open to reveal different kinds of dresses. She picked out a gray dress that seemed to be made out of some sweatshirt material. It was puffy at the bottom, making it appear as a decent dress.

In reality, there really wasn't much for you to pick as Natasha went around the closet, grabbing everything you'd need.

Once she finished, she grabbed your hand and led you to the bathroom. She neatly folded the clothes and placed them on a cabinet, turning back to you and reaching for your shirt. You quickly took a step back, pushing the pajama shirt down again.

“What's wrong, dorogoy? You can't take a bath with your clothes on now, can you?”

Natasha moved closer towards you, trying to reach for your shirt again. “I can take a bath myself,” you told her quickly, taking another step back. Natasha sighed and smiled at you. “Sweetie, I know that you think that, but you need to be cleaned properly,” she explained, making another move to reach for your shirt.

You firmly held your place, still pushing down the shirt with your hands. Natasha sighed again, in frustration this time. “I do not want to put up with this right now. Do as I say,” she said sternly, and you felt a shiver run down your back.

When you still didn't move, you felt another slap on your cheek. Your head moved to the side as the tears started again.

Natasha seemed unbothered by your reaction, feeling like slapping you was completely normal for when you didn't listen. She moved towards you, and this time you didn't dare resist her as she pulled the shirt over your head.

You quickly covered your chest, feeling shy and exposed to the woman in front of you.

Natasha didn't seem bothered, but instead worked quickly to get you out of your clothes and help you step into the bath. Once you were settled into the bath, you quickly moved the bubbles that had risen over your body, successfully covering yourself up.

Natasha chuckled slightly at your actions and grabbed some different soap bottles, moving to sit on a stool next to the bathtub.

She took out the braid she had made last night, and scooped some water from the bath with a cup, gently pouring it over your hair. She rinsed your hair thoroughly before grabbing some shampoo, massaging it into your hair before grabbing the cup again to rinse it out.

You were stubborn enough to not lean into her touch, but you couldn't deny you enjoyed the way she washed your hair.

After your hair was finished she allowed you to do the rest of your body on your own, something which you were grateful for. When she decided that you had finished, she grabbed a big fluffy towel and held it up, silently telling you to get up from the bath.

Once you got up she wrapped the towel around you, engulfing you into its warmth. She helped you dry off and get dressed.

She then grabbed your toothbrush again, putting the toothpaste on and rinsing it under water. You frowned, looking confused as to why she'd do that in the morning. When she noticed your expression she smiled. “You have to brush your teeth twice a day, detka,” she simply spoke as she grabbed your chin.

Recalling what happened yesterday, you quickly opened your mouth and let her brush your teeth.

-------------------------------------------------------------

After having breakfast, Natasha allowed you to roam around the house for a bit. You weren't sure where you were going, as the house was massive and there were many rooms. After exploring for a while, you realized some closet doors were locked, and there were safety locks on some drawers as well.

Natasha observed you as you slowly checked everything out, making sure to keep her eye on you to ensure you didn't do anything stupid.

“Why are some drawers locked?” you asked quietly when you made it back to the kitchen, where Natasha was sitting. “I don't want you to hurt yourself,” she stated simply, sipping her coffee. “What are you going to do to me?” you asked suddenly, making Natasha look up from her phone.

“Nothing,” she stated, smiling at you. “So you'll let me go?” you asked hopefully, but Natasha just smiled and shook her head.

“Where would you go? You're already home,” she explained. You shook your head angrily. “This isn't my home!” you told her, but she just smiled. “Go to your room and cool off,” she stated.

You were upset, but listened to what she told you, afraid she'd hurt you again. You walked upstairs and went into your bedroom, letting yourself fall onto your bed. You were angry. So incredibly angry.

After a few minutes of taking deep breaths, you calmed a little and decided to take a better look at your room. Like you already noticed, everything you owned was there. From your notebooks to your colored pencils, everything was accounted for. The only difference was that the things in your room were new and clean, while your books back home were damaged from all the moving around.

When you went to the desk you found your coloring book, and you decided to color a bit to help yourself calm down.

It was raining heavily outside, and you couldn't deny that you enjoyed the warmth of the house, the cold autumn air outside as you sat inside with the heater on.

There was a small couch, level with the window, and you sat on it for a while. You were thinking about the weird two days that you'd had. You still couldn't wrap your head around it. Why on earth would Natasha Romanoff, an Avenger, kidnap you? Were all Avengers as deranged as she was, or do they have no idea Natasha kidnapped you?

When it was time for lunch, Natasha made her way upstairs, finding you sitting in the window.

She smiled at the sight, happy to see her daughter finally home. She knew you'd learn to accept it. Learn to love her. She was confident.

When you noticed her you turned to look at her, seeing her smile at you. “I made lunch,” she stated, motioning her head towards the stairs. Without a word you followed her, sitting at the kitchen counter as you watched her plate the food.

“When can I go outside?” you asked quietly, almost whispering. Natasha let out a little snort. “It's practically storming. Why would you want to go outside?” she asked you, finishing plating the eggs and returning the pan to the stove.

You shrugged slightly, picking at the sleeve of your dress.

Natasha placed your food in front of you, looking at you expectedly. “Thank you…” you said, watching as Natasha smiled and sat down in front of you.

You ate your food quietly, the only sound was the rain pattering against the windows. You enjoyed the quiet, but felt uncomfortable with Natasha staring at you. You cleared your throat slightly as you sat up a little straighter. “So when do I go to school?”

Natasha looked a bit taken back, but soon returned her facial expression back to normal. “Why would you wanna go back to school?” she asked, and you shrugged.

“Isn't that like, the law or something,” you said, not daring to meet her gaze.

Natasha chuckled slightly, “not in this country.”

“What country are we in?” you asked surprised, shocked to hear you weren't in the US anymore. “That's nothing to worry about, detka. Your eggs are getting cold,” she said simply, eating some of her eggs herself.

“Where are we?!” you urged on, and Natasha let out a sigh of frustration as she put her fork down. “We are home-” “Where the fuck are we?!” you yelled at her, afraid of what country you might've ended up in. “You listen to me young lady. I have warned you multiple times to not speak to me in such a tone. We are home and that is final,” Natasha stated firmly, but you just stood up in frustration.

“Where the fuck did you take me?!” you yelled, and Natasha got up as well. “This is your last warning y/n, I mean it.” “Where the fuck are we you crazy motherfucker-” you whimpered as your sentence was cut off with another slap.

You could've known it was coming, but you were too blinded by frustration to think clearly.

Natasha grabbed your wrist and led you to a basement, dragging you down the stairs and pushing you to the ground. She crouched down to be at your eye level, roughly grabbing your face and squeezing your cheeks together.

“Now you listen to me very carefully. We are at home, I am your mother, and you will stop speaking to me in such a tone,” she stated, squeezing your cheeks a little rougher. “Do you understand?”

You nodded the best you could, tears rolling down your cheeks. Natasha let go of your face and slapped you, grabbing you cheeks as fast as she had let go, making you face her again.

“Say you understand!” she yelled at you. “I understand…” you croaked out, falling to the floor completely when Natasha let your face go. She quickly stood up and made her way back to the door, leaving you in the basement on your own.

The basement was cold and you shivered as you felt the air blow in. You could still hear the rain, but everything was muffled.

You had tried to open the door, but it was of no use. It wouldn't budge, and you cried out in frustration, hitting it with your fists. After trying the door for a few minutes, you curled up into the corner, shivering as you closed your eyes.

After a few hours, the door of the basement opened again, and Natasha walked in. She crouched down next to you and hugged you, pulling you into her. She rocked you gently back and forth, shushing your light sniffling.

“It's okay now, mama's here. Mama loves you my sweet baby,” she spoke softly, kissing the top of your head.

“Let's go,” she said as she pulled you to your feet, leading you out of the basement and into the warm home again. She settled you down on the couch and wrapped you in a soft blanket, again it being your favorite color.

She sat next to you and pulled you into her, rubbing her hand up and down your arm, trying to help warm you up. It was like she had taken a complete twist from the woman that locked you in the basement. Instead, she was warm and caring again, comforting you like she had done no wrong. Maybe that was what she actually believed. Maybe she believed she had done no wrong.

Natasha cupped your cheeks, gently turning your head to face her again. “Are you going to listen to mama now?” she asked, and you nodded.

“Say it,” she softly, but firmly reminded you.

“I understand,” you told her, but Natasha just shook her head. “You understand… who?” “I understand Natasha-” big mistake, as another blow landed on your cheek.

“Do not ever call me that again,” she said, looking at you expectedly. “I understand… mama…” you slowly said, averting your gaze away from her. Natasha smiled and leaned towards you, giving you a kiss on your forehead. “I knew you'd understand. You're such a smart girl,” she praised you as she gave you another kiss on your cheek, leaning back on the couch and pulling you into her again, hugging you close.

How on earth could a woman be this deranged?

chapter 3

tags: @carol-romanoff @natsxwife @simp-erformarvelwomen @clintsbigtoe

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ssaanaaloves · 3 months

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#chao son #mama y papa #and unc meg #shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #e 123 omega #shadow chao #shadouge #sanart #sonic the hedgehog #shadrouge #team dark

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tygerland · 6 months

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Gael García Bernal 2006, by Craig McDean.

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queenerdloser · 5 months

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i just finished dark heir

#me foaming at the mouth during the last chapters: HE IS! FUCKING! SAVING YOU!#i am huddled around will kempen hissing like a mama cat none of these fuckers are allowed to look at him #dark rise #okay but like. cyrian at literally every moment in the book you see will anticipating things and making connections #that you never make. doing things like a leader & being fucking smart and strategic. and your dumb ass really thought.#hm. must mean i shouldnt listen to him about the magic staff that can literally stop the end of the world. must be evil.#me: [screams into the abyss]#i know i cant expect characters to react like readers and they DID all react like i knew they would but god it was so infuriating!!!!!#and heart breaking! god!!!! god!!!!! will reliving his mother's initial betrayal over and over and OVER again #and thinking about all the little moments we get where the novel tells us: if these 'evil' characters had just been accepted #instead of tossed aside maybe they wouldnt have fallen. if they had been protected instead of killed maybe they would have #become protectors instead of killers. maybe if will's mom hadn't tried to butcher him for the sin of his own birth #he wouldn't have been so scared to tell people he lied to them.#anyway im not normal about will kempen and if book 3 doesnt give me his friends fucking accepting him i'll kill someone #me looking directly at visander: i dont care how charming you are i'll murder your ass about it #i read this book in like 5 hrs im being very normal about it

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fairydrowning · 2 years

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There's a saying in arabic "يا ريت انا ولا انت" which translates to "I wish it were me not you" and you say it to the ones you love when they're unwell. Its like....I love you so much that I'd rather be in pain than watch you suffer. And I think thats beautiful.

– Via "raniareflects" on Tumblr

#mostly my mama used to say this wish it were me and not you whenever i got sick #love is just so beautiful #dark academia #light academia #excerpts #fragments #poetry #romanticism #romantic academia #lit #classic literature #classic academia #spilled words #spilled thoughts #spilled ink #lovecore #arabic poetry #arabic quotes #arabic poems

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tapakah0 · 7 months

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#I've read it.#**** you just read fluff chaos and little amount of angst and here BUM #It took me almost 2 hours to read just one chapter I don't know why but no regrets at all #With all these emotional ups and downs #I have one novel that I hold on the very top of the angst stories (I haven't read that many books #stories and fics and can judge only withing that little I have)#but if mnmc keep going like this this I need to widen my place on top...#I've cried over Mojo again #The same scene and here we go again. how.#And then this one SORRY I CAN'T PUT IT INTO WORDS #The way they triet each other #they both go through hell #All little details about their emotions #Their differences yet so many similarities #I don't like the angst is placed out of nowhere but this fic was BORN IN ANGST #I WANNA BITE BIG MAMA'S HEAD OFF #FOR THE GOD'S SAKE LEON KILL HER FRIEND #YOU WANTED LEO JUST TO BE SAFE BUT WHAT'S THE MEANING IF HE'S NOT #AND IT'S SO DARK IN THEIR CEILING THAT LEON COULDN'T EVEN SEE WHAT'S GOING ON WITH LEO #SO MANY THINGS HAPPENED AT ONE TIME #I DID COUNT WITHOUT JOKES HOW MANY TIMES I DID CRY DON'T JUDGE (I AM HARD TO CRY ON SOMETHING THAT DOESN'T CATCH MY ATTENTION I GUESS MY AT #ENTION IS CAUGHT WELL ENOUGH) 4 TIMES. 4 F***ING TIMES #FOR THE GOD'S SAKE I WANNA SEE CLICHE WHEN THEIR BROTHERS JUST BOOOM CRUSH EVERYTHING AROUND ON THIS AIRPLANE AND SAVE THEIR BROTHERS I WAN #A A CLICHE #I DON'T WANT IT TO BE THE END OF THE STORY WHEN LEON DIES HOW HE WANTED FROM THE VERY BEGINNING #I AM NOT OKAY OVER THE WAY HE TREATS THESE KIDS #OR LEO SUDDENLY A BOOST OF POWERS AND TELEPORTS THEM #ANYTHING #JUST NOT DEATH #AT LEAST NOT LIKE THIS

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skettchyartendevours · 7 months

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I know I've shared a small batch of my workplace doodles recently, and I figured I'd share the rest now ^v^

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respectthepetty · 1 year

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Fun Fact: If you like the cinematography of Moonlight Chicken Only Friends, it's because it's the same cinematographer who is behind ALL of your favorites:

Rath Roongrueangtantisook

Only Friends

Moonlight Chicken

Never Let Me Go

Mama Gogo

A Tale of Thousand Stars

Dark Blue Kiss

3 Will Be Free

He's Coming to Me

Still 2gether

Friend Zone & Friend Zone 2

Our Skyy

His skills are aging like fine wine.

#Rath Roongrueangtantisook #the cinematography #Only Friends #Moonlight Chicken #Never Let Me Go #Mama Gogo #A Tale of Thousand Stars #Dark Blue Kiss #3 Will Be Free #He's Coming to Me #Still 2gether #Our Skyy #Friend Zone #Friend Zone 2

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peony-plum · 9 months

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Have you heard the tale of Mathieu Bellamont

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toxicanonymity · 4 months

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3:00 special.

3.5k words, slasher!Joel x f!reader | Slasher Joel SUMMARY: One shot - Joel entertains himself while you sleep, then makes good on his promise to ruin you in the morning. Title from his playlist, # 1. WARNINGS: I8+ dubious consent p in v sex, degradation, toy, vag fisting, dark humor, dark character, slasher typical regard for realism. creator chooses not to warn further detail but happy to answer Qs. hope my editing isn't too bad. A/N: Thank you so much everyone for the comments, mood boards, asks. Y'all make this AU fun to write and interactive. @toxicfics for notifs (how to see notifs all in one place) @toxicrecs for recs. dividers by @gasolinerainbowpuddles.

It's well after midnight. Joel is normally awake and on call at this hour. In fact, he’s on call right now, but he couldn't tell you where his phone is. You’re asleep under his arm, and he’s not tired enough to drift off. He shuts his eyes and thinks about what he wants to do to you.

Cockslut like you has gotta have toys lyin’ around. Prolly can’t go 12 hours without gettin’ your gash stuffed.

He cautiously lifts his arm off your back, slides out of bed, and tiptoes over to the window to get a little more moonlight in there. Then, he goes to your nightstand. You sigh in your sleep.

He opens the drawer and rolls his eyes in disappointment when there’s only one satin bag. Just a vibrator. Then he sees the corner of a dark, suede box sticking out from under your bed. Jackpot. You’re sleeping face down, and your arm is dangling off the bed, fingers nearly grazing the corner of the box. He manages to pull it out from under the bed without disturbing you. There’s another one behind it, too.

He sits on his knees and opens the box. Oh yeah. You’ve got all sorts of dildos, dongs, rabbits, there’s like six cocks in this box. There’s lube, a strap, suction cups. So many possibilities, he can’t think straight. God damn.

He picks up the biggest dick. He wraps his hand around it. Aren’t these things supposed to be bigger than real ones? Especially for a size queen like you. You must be using more than one at a time. He imagines you smashing two of them together and sitting on them, letting out a slutty moan as you sink down.

He’s hard as a rock. Your phone lights up on the nightstand, and he looks at it. It’s 2:33 and there’s a pop-up notification. It has a flame logo with the text, “Darren and 18 others are waiting for your response.” What the fuck is this?

He unplugs the phone and tries to open the notification, but it’s locked. He eyes your hand, still dangling off the bed, and carefully presses the screen against your thumb to unlock it. He has some trouble finding the notification again. He’ll figure it out, but first he’s got to do something about this brick in his boxers.

You’re snoring lightly now, covered by only a light sheet. You’re out cold. Probably out whoring every night this week, and now you’re finally catching up on sleep.

His stomach growls.

He sits up on his knees, facing your bed. You’re still on your stomach, and the knee closest to him is bent. Practically spread eagle, no surprise there. He pinches the sheet and slowly pulls it down until everything above your knees is exposed.

His balls twitch at the sight of your glistening wound. God damn, look at you leaking.

There’s a trail of cum and two dark spots on the sheet under you. Wonder how many loads you’ve got on this bed. Mattress must look worse than his. His cock bounces and rubs it with his wrist. He growls, looking at your snatch.

Yeah he’s gonna ruin you in the morning, or as soon as he’s done figuring out what kind of whoring you’re up to. He didn’t imagine the professional kind. You seemed more like an amateur.

But you’ve got 18 dicks waiting for you in this thing. He looks at your phone.

—

Joel opens the camera app and carefully lines up a shot between your legs. Then he takes a picture. SHIT, it flashes.

You whine in your sleep but don’t wake up. He looks at the picture. It’s a good shot, really good. He turns the flash off.

You probably won’t even wake up if he touches you. So used to having hands and dicks and tongues all around this sloppy cunt. He stands up and makes an upside-down v-shape with his fingers and uses them to spread you even wider. You twitch and a little drop of cum rolls out, making him moan softly. He takes another picture.

He goes out to your living room carrying a bottle of lube and your phone. There’s a massive tent bobbing in his tight boxers. He settles in on the sofa and takes out his cock and balls. His stomach growls again and he lazily rubs his belly. Guess mama was right, he should’ve ate more.

He lubes up his dick, then looks at the picture on your phone. Your app offers to auto-correct the last one, and he can see much better after saying yes.

Good lord.

He has half a mind to fuck you right now, but instead he wraps his hand around his cock.

He strokes himself, imagining those toys stuffing your slutty hole. What a sloppy mess you’d be, all fucked out and stretched from taking as many dicks as you could. He looks at the first picture, with the flash: an HD photo of the aftermath of his cock. You’re really something else. He’s never seen anyone take a dick like you. He switches between the pictures and groans at the sight of you spread wide open by his fingers. His hand makes you look smaller than you are. He could probably park his truck in there.

Fuck.

He strokes himself faster.

Another notification with a flame pops up. You have a new match!

Still jerking himself, he follows the notification and it opens your app.

“Alright, sex kitten,” he mutters under his breath.

A message badge at the bottom of the screen shows you have 21 new. God damn, you love cock. He fucks his fist, hips slightly flexing. “Ohh,” he moans and closes his eyes thinking about you browsing for dick, vag drooling. But none of them can stuff you and stretch you the way he does. He pulls his shirt up and sighs as he cums into his fist and on his belly.

He wipes his hand off on his shirt, leaving the cum smeared there, then wipes it again on his boxers before lying down on the sofa and using your phone with both hands.

It's this easy? He knew you were this easy. Let's see what these other guys are packing.

Joel opens a message from Marcus. Marcus says, “Hey, I saw you like coffee. Wanna grab a cup at the Bean Bar this week?” Joel clicks on the guy’s profile. He’s into traveling and books. No dick pics, not even an outline. What a fuckin’ loser. Joel deletes the match and returns to your list of guys. He sees a thumbnail of a guy with lips parted and his shoulders are bare. He opens that one.

Benny. “Damn look at you,” Benny said. “Wanna get at this?” There’s a picture of him grabbing a bulge in his gym shorts. He’s got a green dot by his name.

Joel thinks to himself, then types to Benny, “Yeah I love cock,” and sends it with a woosh.

He goes to look at Benny’s profile, and he’s a boxer. Most of his pics are shirtless. Lots of pics with slutty sweatpants. He looks like a dumbass, but at least he's smart enough to know what you’re looking for. The question is, does he have it.

Benny replies. “Fuck yeah, got plenty for ya.”

“Hm,” Joel doubts to himself, then types, “Show me.”

Benny replies, “Damn, most chicks don’t want the full monty.”

Joel squints in frustration. Is Benny dense?

“I SAID I LOVE COCK,” Joel replies on your behalf.

“Lmao I like it. I show you mine, you show me yours 😉,” Benny responds.

“No problem,” Joel sends.

Before he does anything else, Joel thinks to text himself those two pics. Mama’s right, he’s smart. He’s got her wits. His stomach growls again.

You wake up in the middle of the night and hear something. As you blink awake, a flickering blue light is coming from down the hall. You put on a long t-shirt and rub your eyes on your way to the living room. You begin to faintly hear the shamwow infomercial as the silhouette of Joel Miller’s hair comes into view. He’s sitting on your sofa watching tv. He bends forward and puts something on your coffee table. Then, as he settles back into the sofa, he does an exaggerated yawn and stretches his arms over the back of the couch. You look at the clock. It’s 3:45 AM.

You pad into the living room and observe him manspreading on the couch.

“Hey sleepyhead,” he yawns as you sit down next to him on the sofa, taking in the scene. He’s in boxers and a navy shirt that’s ridden up exposing a couple of inches of belly. There are darker blotches on the shirt.

“What are you doing out here?” you ask, voice hoarse with sleep. A better question would be, why are you still in my house?

“Couldn’t sleep. Got hungry. Want some casserole?” He sighs with the effort as he bends forward to get the Tupperware and fork for you.

“Where’d that come from?” you ask.

“Mama made it. Spaghetti casserole. Really good, you should try it.” He practically shoves it into your face.

You pick up the fork and take a bite.

“Mmm,” you hum in genuine enjoyment. “Wow, this is good.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with brightened eyes. “Ya know, you could come for dinner sometime. She’d love to have ya.” He mentions it casually, but there’s a glimmer of hope behind his eyes.

You know better than to laugh in his face, but you don’t exactly accept the invitation either. “Really?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Joel nods as you take another bite. “More where that came from.” You contemplate as you chew and he cradles his balls through his boxers. You finish your bite and put the casserole and fork down. He finishes a beer.

“Sure,” you nod, then get up to go back to bed.

“Where ya goin’?” He asks.

“Gotta work in a few hours.”

His face darkens, but he stays where he is.

“This whorefire app’s pretty cool,” Joel calls after you. What is he talking about?

You turn around and he’s standing up. He stretches with his arms wide, and his boxers are low enough to show his pubic hair and whiter skin, giving you a little rush of arousal. Your eyes pan over his body and you don’t even notice the phone in his hand. He tosses it onto the sofa.

He takes slow steps and you stand still. Soon he’s in arm’s reach and lowers his voice. “Get over here, kitten.”

He walks into you, then reaches around to grab your ass. He slides a palm down over your crack until his middle finger meets your slick.

“Mmm,” he growls.”I’ll tuck ya in.”

He smacks your ass with a low,“Ooh!” then walks into your bedroom.

You’re throbbing at the thought of having him again, but you find yourself muttering, “Said I had to sleep,” as you get back in bed. You slip your feet under the sheets.

He doesn’t waste any time before getting on top of you. “Spread’em, sweetheart.” He knees your legs apart and shoves his hand between your legs. He locks eyes with you as he rubs your most sensitive place. “Fuck,” he growls, then sits up on his knees. He holds the thick shape of his cock through his boxers and with his other hand, nudges your entrance, then easily slips a finger inside. When he adds a second, you whimper.

“I’m comin’,” he grumbles to your needy cunt. He pulls his boxers down and clumsily takes them off before settling back between your legs with his heavy cock looming, making you gush. He braces a hand on the bed, to the side of your hips. You’re ready, so ready for it. Your body is making space for him. You feel yourself opening up. But he gives you his fingers again. He slides in one, then two with ease, stacked vertically. It’s not enough, especially without any attention to your front.

“Look at this messy mouth, droolin’ all over, swallowin’ whatever I give it.” He adds a third finger, also stacked vertically. He thrusts them a few times, gazing at you in a trance, then rotates his hand palm up, with three thick fingers spreading you wide. He leans forward so his palm covers your clit, thank god, as he fucks you with three fingers.

He lowers his voice and reveals, “I know ya don’t gotta work. Found your paystub in your car, whoops.” He spreads his fingers and inhales a deep, hungry breath as his fingers continue filling you. “‘S’okay. Just be good for me.”

“I’m always good,” you breathe, hips lifting into his hand.

He chuckles darkly. “Always good. Almost cut my dick off one time,” he reminds you.

“You tried to kill me–ohhh,” He curls his fingers and digs his palm down on your front.

His face darkens, and his fingers pause all the way inside you. “Sweetheart, if I tried, ya wouldn’t be here.”

He shoots you a glare that makes the back of your neck go cold with sweat as his fingers slide out.

He shoves his cock in with a grunt that turns into a sigh as his girth spreads you open. With his eyes still dark, he withdraws half his length, then slams into you hard, “Mmmnngh,” with his jaw clenched. He releases his breath and sighs vocally, fully sheathed in your warmth.

His hips begin to move. “Gonna take this when I say, how I say,” he breathes, then grits his teeth as he slams into you again.

It’s like having a soda can between your legs, and your body welcomes it.

“Fuck you're tight. ‘Specially compared to earlier.”

Joel looks down where your bodies are joined and watches his big dick disappear between your legs. “Take it like a fuckin’ pro.” He buries his length in your dripping hole, you're getting wetter by the minute. “Fuck, you’re wet.” He slams into you hard and you brace your hand on the headboard.

“Fuck,” you whisper and raise your knees, spreading your legs wider.

“Good kitten,” he says.

He rails into you one more time and bottoms out. He reaches over to the other side of the bed near the headboard, and slides his hand under a pillow, retrieving a dong.

He holds it by the base and wobbles it in the air.

His cock slides out of you, arousal dripping everywhere onto the sheet.

He holds the dong up to his hard cock. “Think you’ve graduated.”

He begins to line the toy up with your entrance.

“Supposed to use lube with that,” you protest.

“Sweetheart,” he laughs, then grumbles, “You should see the mess between your legs.” He wets his lips as he stares at your cunt. Arousal rolls down his cock, over his huge sack. “Still drippin’ off me, damn.”

He cups his balls and grunts “Mmm,” before returning to the task.

He lightly taps your pussy a few times, listening to the wet smacking sound. “You’re good,” he chuckles. He wipes off his hand on the head of the dong.

His brows furrow. He uses his thumb and finger to spread you wide, then begins to push the toy into you. “Nothin’ this greedy pussy can’t do.” It doesn’t feel nearly as good as he does.

He thrusts the dong in and out of you a few times then pauses with it mostly withdrawn. He presses the toy against one of your walls, and slides in one finger, then two alongside the toy.

You spread your legs wide so he can get even closer. He lines up his stiff cock flat against the side of the dildo and uses his fingers to help wedge the tip of his cock in. The stretch burns until he pushes a little more and you swallow nearly his whole tip.

He pushes a bit more and you groan.

“You can do it, baby.” He thumbs your clit, helping you open up more. His tan tummy swells with his flexing abs and he begins to push again. He presses his hips forward and his cock slides all the way into you along with the dong.

“God damn,” he breathes. “Wish you could see this—unngggh,” He pulls back, holding the toy steady, watching your pussy cling to him, the thin membrane stretched wide, begging him back. “Fuck, you can take a cock.”

Your insides swell with arousal. It's an incredibly full feeling, but it also makes you throb how he loves to watch you take as much as you can, and he's always got more to give, somehow.

“Shoulda used the strap,” he mumbles.

He thrusts and pushes the toy another time, then says “Fuck it.”

He slides out of you, and your cunt feels cold on the outside and inside.

“Oh, fuck,” Joel murmurs and strokes himself. “Baby you're gapin’.” He wedges three fingers together and slides them face up into you with such ease it makes your face burn. “Well,” he chuckles. “Damn.” He slides them almost all the way out and adds his pinky. Again they slide in you without much resistance after taking two cocks side by side.

“God damn, sweetheart,” Joel marvels. He slides the four wide digits as far in as they’ll go, then starts fucking you with his hand, thumb on your clit. Your body feels hollow with butterflies and all you can do is moan.

He clamps his hand down to grind the heel of his palm on your clit with four fingers all the way inside you and you groan, so close to the edge. Clit pounding.

“Come on, baby. Squeeze me and I'll give ya one more.”

You’d thought about it so many times since that once. The thought of his fist trips you right over the edge, the blood that was swelling your core exploding outward as waves of pleasure consume you.

“Attagirl,” he mutters with your pelvis lifting into his hand. “Fuck, that's hot.” He watches you clench around his hand, more arousal gathering on his fingers .

The tip of his cock is leaking now, but his attention is all on you. As you come down from your high, he says, “relax for me,” which you already are. He spits on his thumb, then slides his fingers out just enough to wedge his thumb in.

Your skin is hot from your climax. He begins to push in. “Fuck,” he mutters as he slides his hand in. “Only see this in porn,” he mumbles, sliding his hand in and out gently. The thought of him jacking off watching someone get fisted makes you twitch. “You’d be a star ya know.” Your skin gets hotter at the comment. His hand flexes inside you, then he slides it back out toward your entrance. His hand comes out, literally dripping.

He eyes your gaping cunt and says, “you should see this.”

He thumbs your clit with his dryer hand as he runs the knuckles of his wet fist through your folds. Then begins to nudge your stretched out hole. You widen your hips even more and he begins to nudge inside, wiggling his fist gently as your greedy cunt consumes it. It gets easier as he pushes deeper. “Oh, God,” he pants, wrist deep inside you. “Fuck, I gotta be back in there.”

He slides his fist out, braces a hand on the bed, and shoves himself into you all at once. It’s not a stretch at all. Your body is barely starting to gather itself back together, loosely hugging his cock.

He asks, “Want more, huh?”

You nod, face burning.

“This fat cock ain't doin’ it?” He fucks you loose and sloppy. “Ever seen a fatter one?” You shake your head no, and it's true. “Fattest cock ya’ever seen can't fill ya up.”

“Not now,” you mutter and grab the toy. You wrap your lips around it, tasting yourself as you wet it with slobber.

“Cause I ruined ya,” Joel nods. “Wrecked this greedy gash. Ohh baby, look at ya suck that cock.”

You take the toy out of your mouth with a pop and reach down to line the head up with his cock.

He pauses. “God DAMN,” he says as you push it in alongside him. He pushes his hips forward, filling you up.

You sigh as you're once again full.

“Fuck, that feels better,” he breathes, moving his hips to pump in and out of you to the same rhythm of your hand. “Ohh, fuck I'm gonna–”

“Hold on,” you tell him.

He’s struggling not to come. Sweating, panting, looking at your stuffed cunt, then your body, your blissed out face, then the ceiling as he fucks you while you fuck yourself, too.

Soon, he bottoms out with a groan and pulses inside.

“I dunno how ya do it,” he marvels. “Tight as hell, then she’s gapin’, beggin’ for more.”

When he slides out of you, you’re grateful he holds you as your body fills the void. He spoons you but stays up on one elbow so he’s hovering, looking at you in the moonlight. He brushes your burning cheek with his thumb and smiles. He nudges your chin to face him and he kisses you good night, again. You fall asleep spooning.

Your engagement is what makes this AU fun to write. I would love to hear your thots, what lore you want, etc. that's what makes Tumblr my platform of choice, too. If you're shy, anons are back on for now.

If you're not caught up on night walks, consider giving it a shot - Night Walks (latest - beach walks).

If you want more of a character, engage. It's fun for all. Don't use AI, which makes writing less fun.

IDK when or what I will post next.

@silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading @rainstorms-library @am-3-thyst

#slasher!joel #dark!joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #cw degradation #cw dubcon #dead dove au #toxicanonymity ☠️#slasher!joel miller #mama slasher

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wraithstuck · 23 days

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what if the reason why doco always reached for cacao’s sword wasn’t because of her promised fate but because she could feel mystic flour’s energy from inside the weapon

#cookie run #dark choco cookie #mystic flour cookie #mama mystic flour…..#also fun fact some babies tend to have a sixth sense

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writerslittlelibrary · 7 months

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I'm your mother now, chapter 4

masterlist series masterlist

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8

summary: when you wake up in a strange room, you soon come to realize the amazing Black Widow, who appears to be the perfect role model for girls all around the world, is greatly deranged…

pairing: Dark!Natasha x teen reader, Yelena x niece reader

warnings: yelling, a lot of swearing, dark themes, kinda evil Natasha

genre: angst

words: 2788

a/n: I finally got to introduce auntie Yelena!!!! (not proofread yet, I might do it later)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

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When Natasha had given you the ipad, the first thing you tried was find some information on yourself. You were desperate to know whether you were truly missed, but Natasha wasn't stupid. The ipad had no access to the media. You weren't able to look yourself up, and you weren't able to reach out for help.

The ipad did come with a Netflix and Disney subscription, so you had mainly busied yourself with that over the days.

When you were messing around on the ipad today, however, you discovered you could turn on the weather app. It may not have sounded very interesting at first, until you realized, to know the weather, the app would have to know where you were.

And so, you turned the location of the ipad on and you soon discovered where Natasha had taken you, or rather what country she had smuggled you into.

You were in Russia. How on earth did you make it to Russia?

Before you could question yourself any more, there was a knock on the door. Natasha walked in soon after the knock sounded. “Hello sweetheart,” she said as she sat down on the bed.

“We're in Russia?” you questioned, and Natasha's smile faltered slightly before it returned to normal again. “Of course we're in Russia, detka. I had to take you home.”

You looked away from Natasha, staring at the floor as you contemplated what to do next. You had nowhere to go, nowhere to run to, if you even were to escape, and now, you realized no one in this country probably even knew of your disappearance.

“I need to run down to the store to get some things. Are you going to be okay on your own?” Natasha asked as she laid her hand on your leg, rubbing it up and down soothingly. You nodded slightly, before she grabbed your chin and gently turned your head to face her. “If you're good, you might be able to go with me next time when we pick out the Christmas tree,” she stated, smiling lovingly at you.

“It's November…” you said, and Natasha shook her head while letting out a chuckle.

“We always like to start the Christmas coziness early,” she said as she leaned forward, giving you a kiss on your forehead. She then got up, walking back to your door.

“Be good,” she told you before she walked away, closing your door behind her. “Wait who's we?”

Your question wasn't heard as Natasha was already downstairs, and when you walked to the window you heard the front door shut. You saw Natasha get in her car and drive away, leaving you alone in the house.

Snow had already started falling in the area you were in, and a thick layer of white fluff covered the ground.

You were keeping track of it ever since it started falling, and according to your calculations, which were based on your random instinct you used, the snow must now be thick enough to break a fall.

You knew all doors and windows on the main floor were locked, but the windows on the first floor could actually open fully. The windows on the first floor were too high to jump from, and Natasha knew that, but what she hadn't thought about was the fact you were willing to take the chance and trust the snow would break your fall.

And so, you grabbed your bag, stuffed your stuffed animal and notebook and grabbed the warmest clothes you owned. Once you were dressed warm and secure, you went into Natasha's room, knowing her windows were the only windows in the house that opened fully.

You were quiet and careful, even though you knew Natasha wasn't there. You didn't want to push your luck.

You opened the window and carefully sat on the edge, dangling your feet above the ground. It was a high drop, but you figured the snow would make sure you survived. You closed your eyes and let go, letting yourself fall down the window and into the snow.

You let out a sigh of relief when you landed in the soft snow, happy you were alive.

You didn't waste any time however, getting up quickly and finding the trail Natasha's car had left. You reckoned if she'd go to a store, there must be a town nearby.

You followed the tracks Natasha’s car had left, thinking it was the best option you had, until you realized the snow started picking up, and soon there was so much snow falling from the skies you couldn't see the tracks anymore, let alone a hand in front of your face.

You were now officially lost, and you couldn't even see how lost you were.

There was no possible way you could find the town in these conditions, if there even was one. You were shivering, the clothes you decided to wear not doing much against the harsh cold. You had never been this cold before, every part of your body aching.

You decided to lean against a tree for a moment, just to catch your breath, but the moment you allowed yourself to rest you realized how tired you were, now sitting down on the ground and wrapping your arms around your knees, making a futile attempt to keep yourself as warm as possible.

Tears started rolling down your cheeks as you realized what you had done. Sniffling slightly as you closed your eyes. You had killed yourself.

You don't remember much after that, until you felt a hand on your shoulder, shaking you awake. “I found her,” you heard a woman say, before she turned back to you and placed her hands on your cheeks, making you face her.

“It's okay, malysh. I'm gonna get you out of here,” the voice said as she moved to your side, wrapping a hand around your back and placing her other arm under your knees.

She lifted you up effortlessly, walking with you in her arms.

“You're gonna be okay,” the woman said as she smiled down at you. Was she with the police? Was she here to save you? Had they somehow found you all the way in Russia?

You closed your eyes, too exhausted to keep them open as the rocking of the woman's movement lulled you to sleep.

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When you opened your eyes, you were met with a heater blowing straight in your face. Blankets were wrapped around your body, as you heard talking in the background. It didn't take long for you to recognize the couch you were on, and the blankets you were wrapped in. You were back. It wasn't the police that had found you, it was an associate of Natasha.

You groaned slightly as you tried to sit up, hearing the talking from the kitchen stop and footsteps coming to the living room.

You closed your eyes when you sat up straight, the lights too bright and hurting your head. You felt the couch dip beside you, and you felt a hand run over your back. “You're okay,” you heard the person beside you say.

It was the same voice you had heard in the woods, and you realized this was the woman that had found you, and the woman that brought you back.

You opened your eyes, groaning as the light filled your vision.

Natasha was standing in front of you, her hands on her hips as she stared down at you angrily. “What the hell were you thinking?!” she yelled as you flinched back, something that didn't go unnoticed by the woman beside.

“Natasha, calm down,” the woman beside you said, turning to you. “I'm Yelena. I've heard a lot about you. It is so nice to finally meet you,” she said, smiling softly.

You gave her a small smile, and her smile grew as she noticed it. A shiver ran up your spine, and Yelena rubbed your arms when she noticed it, trying to help you get as warm as possible.

“Don't baby her, Yelena,” you heard Natasha's voice say disapprovingly. “She did something wrong-” “only because you kidnapped me,” you interrupted her, and immediately held your breath as you saw her facial expression change.

Your eyes widened as you saw anger cross her face, and you immediately rushed out an apology.

Natasha wasn't having it, and she raised her hand reading herself to slap you again.

“Natasha!” Yelena yelled as she got up, catching her arm before her hand could strike you. “She's already apologized!” Yelena exclaimed as Natasha lowered her arm, rubbing her hands over her face. “Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm just… stressed,” she said as she crouched down in front of you, placing her hands on your knees.

“I was worried about you, malysh,” she says as she leans forward, kissing your forehead.

“I'm sorry…” you whispered, lowering your head. “It's okay, just don't do that ever again,” Natasha said as she sat next to you, putting her arm around your shoulder and pulling you into her side.

Yelena sat on the other side of you, a smile on her face.

“I was so excited to meet you! I've always wanted a niece,” she said as she smiled at you, putting her hand on your knee.

“A niece?” you questioned, looking up at Natasha confused. “Yelena is my sister,” she explained, and you frowned. “Then why are there no pictures of you two hanging anywhere?” you questioned, and Yelena scoffed. “You have no pictures of me?” she asked, her heavy Russian accent breaking through.

Natasha smiled and shook her head. “We haven't gotten to decorating the house yet,” she simply stated as she strengthened her grip around you slightly, before letting go.

She turned her head towards you, looking serious.

“Now, next time you want to go outside, ask me so I can make sure you are safe,” she said as she looked at you expectedly, and you nodded. “Yes mama, I'm sorry.”

Natasha smiled as she gave you a forehead kiss, getting up from the couch and returning with a bag.

Did she really think you just wanted to go outside? Didn't it occur to her that you tried to escape? Was she really that convinced that you loved her? I mean, sure. These past few days you definitely didn't hate her that much. Natasha was a pretty nice person to be around as long as you didn't make her mad, and the only way you really got her mad is when you denied she was your mother.

The bag hitting the floor snapped you from your train of thoughts, and you looked at the bag as it fell open. You looked at Natasha questioningly, and she just smiled at you. “Go ahead,” she said as she motioned her arm towards the bag.

You got off the couch, sitting on the floor as you dug through the bag, pulling the stuff out of it and setting them on the coffee table.

Once you were done, you stared at the ingredients, before turning to look at Natasha. “Well?” she asked you, but you looked at her confused. “What's it for?” you asked her, and Yelena let out a laugh. “These ingredients are for cookies, silly,” Natasha said as sat down next to you on the ground.

“Yelena is staying with us for a few days, and I thought we could have a movie night and bake some cookies,” she started before leaning closer to you and wiping a stray hair behind your ear. “I'll even forget your bedtime for once,” she finished as she smiled, giving you another kiss on your cheek this time. You smiled, looking at the ingredients.

“Come on,” Natasha said as she stood up, lending you a hand to help you up. The blanket that was once wrapped around you tightly was now hanging loosely around your shoulder, and Natasha wrapped it around you a little tighter before putting her and on your back, guiding you to the kitchen.

“Yelena, sestra. Be a dear and bring the supplies to the kitchen please,” Natasha said as she led you into the kitchen, pulling out a bar stool and helping you sit on it.

Yelena huffed in annoyance as she gathered the supplies, following you two to the kitchen. “Suka,” you heard her mutter under her breath, but Natasha just smiled in amusement.

Natasha took the supplies from Yelena and sat them down on the counter. “Now, wash your hands and let's get to baking,” she smiled as she opened some boxes.

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After the cookie baking and dinner, you three were now settled on the couch. It was well past your bedtime, and even though Natasha had told you you could stay up, the hot chocolate she offered you was still drugged, which is how you ended up passed out on the couch, your head in Natasha's lap as your legs rested on Yelena's.

“Do you think I made a mistake?” Natasha asked Yelena as she stroked your hair, the movie credits rolling on the screen. “What do you mean?” Yelena asked, turning her head to look at her sister. “Was I too aggressive? I think I scared her…” Natasha said sadly, throwing her head back and resting it on the couch.

“I won't lie to you, sestra. You could've gone with a different approach, but in the end, your daughter is here, and soon, she will realize how much you love her.”

Natasha smiled, closing her eyes before raising her head and looking down at you again.

“She will have the best family. I can't wait for her to meet mama and papa,” Natasha said, looking at Yelena with a smile. “She'll love them,” Yelena said as she reached for another cookie, enjoying the comfortable silence her and Natasha had fallen into.

After a few minutes Natasha had carried you to bed, and both her and Yelena had decided to go to bed as well.

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The next morning you woke up early, smelling the breakfast all the way in your room. You rubbed your eyes and stretched before leaving the warmth of your bed, making your way downstairs when you realized Natasha hadn't woken you up.

Instead of Natasha, you found Yelena in the kitchen making pancakes.

“Oh good. You are awake. Would you like chocolate chips in your pancakes or no?” she asked as she poured some batter in the pan, turning around and smiling at you. “I would never say no to chocolate in pancakes,” you told her and Yelena grinned, bending down and grabbing the chocolate chips from a cupboard.

After chatting with Yelena for a little bit, you suddenly heard fast footsteps come down the stairs. Before they could even make it to the kitchen, you already heard her ask. “Yelena! Have you seen y/n she was not in bed-” Natasha stopped talking when she walked into the kitchen, seeing you sitting at the counter doodling something.

“Sestra. Glad you are awake. Chocolate chip pancakes or no?” Yelena asked Natasha as she plated some pancakes for you, putting them down in front of you.

“Why are you awake already?” Natasha asked as she walked closer to you, completely ignoring Yelena's question. With the drugs Natasha had given you last night, you should've at least slept for a few more hours. You simply shrugged, pulling your plate of pancakes closer to you and pouring syrup over them.

Natasha shook her head slightly to get herself out of her thoughts, stepping to stand next to you and grabbing your wrist before you fork could hit the pancake.

“You have not bathed, and you have not yet brushed your teeth,” she said, pulling your wrists slightly to get you to stand. You sighed and put your fork down, not wanting to fight her and deal with the consequence, but luckily for you Yelena stepped in.

“Oh come on Natasha. Can't she do that after breakfast? Her pancakes will get cold,” Yelena pouted as she leaned over the counter, staring at Natasha.

“Yeah mama, my pancakes will get cold…” you repeated Yelena, hoping your way of addressing her would help with her decision to let you eat first. Natasha sighed and let your wrist go, dropping down on the stool next to you. “Not even two days and you're already ganging up on me. Fine, you can eat breakfast before your morning routine, but ONLY this once,” Natasha stated as she stole Yelena's plate of pancakes, grabbing the syrup from beside you and pouring it over the pancakes.

“Yay,” you cheered slightly as you picked your fork up, digging into the delicious pancakes Yelena made.

Maybe living with Natasha wasn't so bad after all…

chapter 5

tag list: @natsbraids @carol-romanoff @natsxwife @simp-erformarvelwomen @clintsbigtoe @olsenmyolsen @leenasayeed @naslt @dvrkhcld @daddyshuri @wandanatsbaby @cherlenovix @mrsromanovaa @wandanatsgirl

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