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fire-lizard-ro · 5 months

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Woo~ Hope you're ready to read Mr. Sunday taking you…

Up the ass- Psych, mfs-

Bet you didn't expect that one from me, huh? I know I normally don't write bottom character, but... I felt like it? I want to see this man wrecked.

I'm writing for both bottom Sunday and top Sunday on this glorious- checks time moonlit (I haven't checked outside and idk what day it is today) night. A little birdy told me she wanted to see bottom Sunday first. Call yourself out if you wanna. 😂

CW: COCK JUMPSCARE- (jk), anal (I mean- come on you knew this), choking (+a little breath play y'all please be sure to make this distinction when talking about it ijsige-), edging, overstimulation, discussion of safe-wording, dom/sub stuff, mention of subspace, spanking, toys (there's an anal plug and cock ring), degradation (+praise), nipple play, harness???, bondage, collaring, slight public play, some subbing from Sunday and some power bottoming (but we'll be focusing on him subbing- it's only really mentioned), prone bone+cat position(that's what it's called, right???)+mating press, some namecalling (ex: praising - good boy, degrading - slut, etc., etc.), crying during sex (the good kind), marking, begging, dumbification, mention of being ashamed but liking it, belly bulge, slight cumflation/excessive cum, excessive lube, objectification(I think???), talk of his cock being useless (it's sex talk I swear reader doesn't mean it-), ever so slight gaping, cumming dry

Reader gender: Gender neutral, but you can envision what you want. Reader has a dick/strap and the cum can be uhhh- Lube? Is that what people put in squirting straps-

If I forgot to add anything to the CW or made any typos- Whoops. You can let me know if you wanna~

Personally, I think Sunday would be a switch. How he leans is up to you. But when he's topping, I see him being more prone to domming. Opposite can be said of when he's bottoming. More likely to sub, but does have his moments when he wants to take control again.

While I do love a good "turnabout is fair play", I think that considering Sunday's need to be in control (…the leaks told me so-), he needs a clean cut decision on what you'd be doing that night. If you've decided together that he'd be topping and domming, don't try to take over please- It'd probably fray his nerves and make him upset. This is because for him, I imagine that he'd need to mentally prepare himself and get in the mindset to sub. He loves giving up the control he holds onto so tightly, but he needs to remind himself that it's okay. That he can trust you and that you'll make him feel so, so good for his concession.

But by god is he a vision when he does slip into that submissive mindset.

It'd start with you two showering together after a long day of Sunday upholding the harmony of Penacony and dealing with any issues that arose to threaten that peace. It's both a way to wind down and to ease him into letting you take care of him and allowing him to slowly loosen his grasp on his control.

Soft touches and soothing words whispered in his ears between the sounds of water with gentle hands petting his wings has him melting into you. The stiff set of his shoulders, imperceptible to all but you, relaxes and the tension drains from his body along with the water as it swirls down the drain.

It is also now that you take out the plug he'd been wearing today while he was away from home. The night before, he'd just finished with you when you two took to the shower and you helped him clean up before stretching his pretty hole with lubed, insistent but gentle fingers. The plug went in nicely after that, the little jeweled heart of the plug's flared base in your color marking him as yours.

He hides behind his wings as you pull at the plug, the toy tugging at his rim that you trace with a playful finger. But of course you nose at them until he lets you in to kiss him soothingly, his wings then pressed to your cheeks to hide you both from the spray of the shower head and the rest of the world. It's just you two here and now. He would gasp a little as the plug slid out to the widest part of the toy. Thin and perfectly groomed eyebrows would furrow while you play with him a little. Push it back in carefully before slowly pulling it back to the wide part again a few times before finally bringing it out fully, rewarding him with "good boy" and "thank you for indulging me" and more kisses.

Once you both are finally in bed, that's when the fun begins.

You both go over the rules again. What to do if he ever wants to stop, reminding him that ultimately he is still in control because he controls if they stop or not. He's the efficient and straightforward type. Traffic light system along with three firm taps if he couldn't talk was enough for him. (Let it be known that when you started dating him, he was not at all aware of these things. I think he'd have been inexperienced to sex beyond vanilla beforehand.)

Tonight, you two were going to use a lot of implements (?). You laid them out, making sure that they were the same as the ones you discussed using prior (yes I think Sunday needs for you two to explicitly discuss beforehand and honestly I agree with him unless you like spontaneity) and going over what you'd do with them to recheck with him that he was okay with it. Consent is sexy, folks.

You then kiss him while fixing the collar on him, checking that it wasn't too tight. He liked using a collar when subbing because it helped him reach subspace and was something the two of you trained him to relax more with when subbing. Helps calm his constantly racing thoughts. The next step is the harness. It's a pretty pale blue-grey that matches his soft hair and is worn with his legs through it and over his hips. They're there for easier handling on your part. The fact that they accentuate his soft, shapely ass and strong thighs is a very welcome bonus. When you put it on for him, please make sure to kiss up his legs all the way to his hipbones while you pull up the harness you helped him step into. Nibble on said hipbones a bit and kiss his navel, near dangerously close to his neglected cock that twitched cutely at your proximity to it. Once that's done you can lube up his hard-on with one cursory tug in order to slip on the cock ring. He won't be getting any more than that for most of the night.

You then have him on him hands and knees so you can get him in position and bind him. Tonight would be a simple set of padded cuffs. You would push between his shoulder blades to guide him to press his chest to the bed, leaning down to kiss down his spine while pulling his hands gently pull his hands behind his back to put the cuffs on. Be sure to praise him for being a good boy, for doing so well for you as you prepared him for the night.

Once that's done, press one more kiss to his body. This time on the top curve of his soft ass before lubing him up some more. It's never bad to be safe about things and there's more than enough chance that he needs more as it dried throughout the day.

Tease him by purposefully tapping on his prostate softly while making sure he's stretched enough and wet with lube coating his inner walls that clenched around your skilled fingers.

Keep going until he finally asks you in a small voice to get on with it. "Hm? What was that?" "You heard me-" "Only good boys get what they want and good boys ask for what they want." You aren't going to make him beg for it (yet), but you'll still make him ask for it like the good, polite boy you know he is.

(Okay we're switching styles here, folks.)

"F-fine… Please fuck me," Sunday said, words trailing of into a mumble. You knew what he was saying, but you didn't really hear it. "What was that? Couldn't hear you, baby." "I-" he angled his head to glare back at you with traces of a pout tugging at his lips. He then turned again to avoid your eyes that took in his face, pressed to the bed and needy. "…please fuck me." "Was that so hard, pretty boy? Since you asked…" You slipped your fingers out slow, letting him feel the drag of them against his sensitive walls as he gave a shuddering sigh. Sunday had attempted to keep it under wraps, but it still slipped out.

Your chuckle caused him to flush more, a wing attempting to hide his face despite you being unable to see it from this spot behind him.

As you slicked up your cock, you watched his hole twitch and cock sway as he unconsciously sunk his hips back more as if to ask you for your thick length in his hungry, empty hole. "Aeons you have the prettiest ass, you know that?" You then finally line yourself up, the head of your dick pressing to the still tight but prepped hole's rim as you slide your hands down the man's sides to grasp his hips before sliding fingers into the straps of the harness that cradled his slim hips.

The angelic man beneath you held his breath in anticipation for a moment. "Breathe, baby." And then you were pushing in, slowly spearing open that wet warmth. He gasped and jolted, but your hand was quick to hold him down by the back of his neck while the other kept an iron grip on the harness to keep his hips steady. A whine escaped Sunday as he attempted to close his legs at the delicious sensation of your cock sliding deep into him- Up to the hilt. Once you bottomed out, he was already panting like he was in heat and his wings that had flared and flexed while you had been pushing inside drooped to rest on the bed.

Your cock was so big- So deep in him he swore he could feel it in the back of his throat, his own cock drooling messily onto previously clean sheets where it hung between his legs. It throbbed as he finally had a clear enough mind to remember the cock ring you'd fastened onto his needy dick. "Such a good slut for me, taking everything." He felt a bold of shame, yet it made his cheeks redden with more than shame. Arousal. As he felt mixed feelings of pleasure and shame swirling in his gut, he also then felt something else in there- Your cock grinding heavily, steadily into him with hips rubbing against his plush ass.

Sunday allowed himself to lean into the pleasure you provided, hips moving back into your slow but strong humps forward. Your cock was sliding over his prostate so nicely and it had him closing his eyes to focus in on it. The arch of his back deepened, emphasizing the lean musculature of his back and bringing out the little dimples above his ass as you leaned forward to put more your weight into your grinding. The pressure inside him and on his neck had his eyes fluttering along with his wings. A moan startled out of him when you proceeded to nibble on said wings, teeth gently nibbling along the fragile bone in the first bend of the feathery appendage. Your hand moved from its spot holding the back of Sunday's neck to press him face first into the bedding moved to instead wrap around his throat, turning him towards you so you could steal a sloppy kiss from him. It was filthy and wet, the sounds of it joining the wet squelch and the slight sound of skin on skin as you began to thrust. His whine was swallowed up by your mouth and when you pulled back he looked a bit dazed, uncomprehending eyes looking at the string of saliva between your lips and his that was promptly licked away by your sinful tongue.

"So good- Such a good boy, yeah? You're all mine aren't you?" He was deep enough in that he just nodded at he tried to rearrange his thoughts. That idea was de-railed when you thrust hard and spanked his ass with the hand not holding his throat, grip tightening enough to make him a bit lightheaded. "Words, harlot. Tell me how you're mine- How good I make you feel." The name made him feel deliciously ashamed of how he was really letting someone push him down and fuck him like a whore. But aeons did he love it. He managed to get out in between panting breaths a, "So good so good please- 'M all yours-" "That's a good cockslut. But just for me right?" "Just for you-"

You rewarded him by speeding up your thrusts, slowly ramping up how hard you fucked into his clenching heat that pushed out lube with every push in- You had made sure to use a lot so he would have to hear the obscene sound of your fucking him and dominating him. His moans became louder along with it, a whimper escaping him when your thrusts forced his hips to the bed. His once neglected cock now lay trapped between him and then bed as yours wrecked him and claimed him. He began babbling about how it felt, how it was like you were in his belly how it was too much not enough please please- Sunday was begging, now, with his drooling mouth, hole, and cock.

"I didn't know toys were supposed to speak- Especially when not spoken to." Your hand tightened around his neck again, this time pressing so it made it a bit harder for him to breathe. "Shhhh- Just be quiet and take it, pretty baby. I'll make you feel good. Make you forget all those troublesome thoughts. Don't you wanna be my dumb little slut? Only focus on taking my cock?" Yeah… he did. He wanted to let go of all the thoughts making his head hurt and give in, even if just for a little while. You'd taken care of him before. Now wasn't any different.

Even through the grip on his throat, he still let out little "ah- ah- ah-" sounds to the rhythm of your hips slapping into his ass, pushing your cock into his deepest parts. Yet you made it feel so good- It didn't hurt at all. All he could think about was how filthy he was and how pleasurable it was. Sunday must have tried to wheeze something out despite everything because you said, "Yeah? You like being dirty for me? A filthy slut for be behind closed doors while in public you act like such a proper leader? What would your dear people think of you if they knew you got fucked like a used prostitute- a mere toy?" You then let go of his throat to let him speak, the air rushing into his lungs making his head spin. "I- I love it! Love it so much please please lemme cum lemme cum on your cock-!"

Another spank to his ass had his hole tightening around you, a cry being startled out of him and tears beading at his lash line. "Good boy-" You then slowed a bit, causing him to whine despite how he had been held on edge for a while, now. Still wanting the bright hot pleasure despite the agony of being denied his release. "Color, baby?" "Mmmf- Green-" "Good boy-" A kiss was pressed to a wing before you harshly thrusted in and went back to pounding him within an inch of his life. Every thrust forced his body up and down the bed, cock an angry red and leaking profusely. Sunday buried his face into the pillow, tears staining them as they came faster. "Please- Let me cum, please! I'll do anything!" "Anything?"

Maybe that was a mistake.

One that had you yanking your dick out of his hole, the greedy thing clenching around nothing as if missing your cock in it. He whined pitifully, tears staining his face as he sobbed into the bedding. Fuck did he sound good. You uncuffed him to flip him over, tossing the things somewhere to the side of the bed. He was unable to keep up with the sudden changes and before he knew it, you were pressing his thighs to his chest in a mating press, cock sliding up and down his own teasingly. "Such a big cock and yet you don't even know how to use it. It's just a big, dumb, useless thing hanging between your legs. All you need is this slutty hole of yours, right?" Your thumb came down to rub at the slightly gaped hole, smearing the lube even more over his sloppy pucker that twitched at your touch.

He hid his face with his wings, flushed and crying as you belittled his cock. He was only good as an anal slut for you. But his wings flared open as he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. You had sunk your teeth into the spot in reprimand and to mark your toy as yours. "What did I say about that? No hiding." He whimpered and nodded- A spank. "Words." "I won't hide anymore!" "Good toy."

Once you slid in, his mind went blank again. Though somewhere deep in the back of his mind, he noted- Oh. You were in his belly. There on the otherwise flat surface that scrunched up from his position, was the slight bulge of your cock in his guts. "Look at you- So pretty." You pressed on it, making him toss his head back with a pitchy moan, hips jerking under you and insides clenching wetly at the dick they were sucking on while his hands flew up to claw at your back desperately. As you leaned over him to lick into his mouth, you then reached one hand between you to slip off the cockring. "You wanted to cum- So cum." You immediately began a brutal pace that had him screaming as he finally was able to find his release, hurtling off that cliff and vision going white as he emptied his cum onto his stomach and yours, the pressure of having held it in so long and the angle of your mating press- The jerking of his hips from you shoving your deliciously big dick into his hungry little hole forcing his cum to splatter over his chest and on his neck and even wings. It was like a sinful angel was laying beneath you.

You slowed, then, and he let his breathing begin to even out. But it was an act of deception because you transferred his legs from your hold to over your shoulders and grabbed hold of his softened cock that laid on his cum covered belly to begin fucking him hard. He screamed and whimpered at the onslaught of now almost painful pleasure. "Wait no no no- Can't- Too much! Stop please I can't cum again-" "I know you can. You've done it before. Come on- Give me another one. Haven't even filled you up, yet."

He began crying even harder, tears blurring his vision as he panted and whimpered while his thoughts slipped away. Even as his mind went blank, his body still responded with his hips jerkily trying to meet your thrusts even as the twitched in overstimulation. Later he would glare at you with tears in his eyes and a pout while declaring that he would be in charge the next time he bottomed and would hold you down, instead, to take what he wanted. But for now, he could only let his hole be used as a warm, wet little cock sleeve. He choked on his drool as you bent him further so you could lean down to tongue his sensitive nipples, sucking bruises and hickeys into his chest and even right around his nipples- Going as far as to nibble on them.

It felt like hours of cumming and cumming and cumming and losing his mind as you fucked him and wrung out every drop of his spend and pleasure as you could along with the tears that still poured from his puffy eyes. It didn't help that he could feel the way you were filling him up with your own cum, having only orgasmed the second time he did. He was cumming dry when you finally slowed, kissing him gently and rubbing at his slightly distended belly that was full of your cum sloshing inside.

"Did so good for me, baby. I love you so much- Such a good boy for me." You helped him slowly come back down, helping to ground him as the high faded. You had slowly lowered his legs from your shoulders. This was why you always ended facing each other. So he could have that intimacy towards the end of seeing you and being able to kiss you. And so you could help him return to earth Penacony after you were done milking the cum and pleasure and pesky thoughts out of him.

Once he was back with you, you made sure to praise him more and kiss him all over his face before finally coming back to his lips to kiss him slow and deep. "Come on. Gotta drink water, birdie." You always made sure to help him up, let him lean against you as you began aftercare. "I love you," you would remind him at the end of it all. "I love you, too darling," he would always reply back, sealing it with a kiss.

Ah yes. Another round of: Roro writes entirely to much and with far too much detail. I made this one even longer and more detailed as well as included a bunch of writing in more story format rather than headcanon-ish form like I normally do. Because I'm back in business!!! (To write smut about hot characters I like-)

Hope you enjoyed~

-Roro, your friendly neighborhood degenerate

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noeou · 1 year

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A TEST OF STRENGTH.

asking them to open a jar... that you superglued shut.

includes: leona kingscholar, ruggie bucchi, and jack howl. ( x gn!reader )

contains: fluff, romantic. short crackfic :)

more like this: masterlist.

[ leona kingscholar | housewarden ]

while he is upset that this is what you decided to interrupt his sleep to request assistance with, he is slightly smug about it. turning over to take the jar, he thought with one twist it'd open but boy was he wrong. "what the hell?" he muttered, sitting up to get a better grip. "if you can't do it, it's okay." you fought a smile, reaching forward to retrieve the jar. snatching it away, leona glared at you. he's barely getting warmed up.

after a long while, he finds you holding a bag of broken glass. long forgotten about the prank, you looked up from your phone confused. "i opened the jar," he admitted. "it doesn't matter, the pickles are no longer edible!"

[ ruggie bucchi | vice housewarden ]

at first you felt bad, as the hyena seemed genuinely excited to help you. you watched as he went through his routine of opening jars: running it under hot water, tapping it against the counter, grabbing a towel to dry off the excess waster so he could twist the lid off. this is the part where it'd work. the lid would be off, but it wasn't.

you watched the process repeat, two times turned to six and six to ten and so forth. the strangest part was that the hyena wasn't getting upset. "babe, can you hurry? i'm hungry," you whined, amused to say the least. "ah, no can do, sweets. i'm waiting for this glue to melt."

[ jack howl | first year ]

believe it or not, he does it no issue. popped it open by putting a knife under the edge of the lid and popped it open like a soda cap. sure, the knife is permanently bent if not completely snapped in half, but now you can take its contents with ease!

glancing between the open jar and broken knife to his retreating figure; you couldn't help but stand there mouth agape.

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mrsbrookemunson · 1 year

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For the insecurity prompt, could I request a nsfw scenario involving the reader feeling self-conscious about being quiet in bed? It'd be lovely to see Eddie being plenty turned on by a reader who is quieter during sex and not expecting a performance or forced moans.

Mhmmm— I love this one!!! I do feel there is a lack of diversity with in the nsfw Eddie community—reader is always loud, but what about the people who are quiet? We need to be represented!!!

Warnings: 18+, implied fem!reader, no use of 'y/n', insecure!reader (obvi), oral (f receiving), swearing, excessive use of the pet name 'baby' (I'm sorry), weird emphasizing, porn with a splash of plot, soft dom!eddie if you squint, slight aftercare, the fluffiest ending, most likely grammar and spelling errors, kinda shit writing, but hey—we all have our off days. I still hope you enjoy :)

Word Count: It's a blurb, so it's short and sweet.

Taglist: @strangerthingsstories5255 @totalmesstm @kiszkathecook @poofyloofy @beeblisss @stylesxmunson @munsonsguitarpick @mlvgren @dream-a-little-nightmare @munsonsuccubus @katsukisimpsblog @iheartyouyou @eddiebaemunson @emma77645 @eviethetheatrefreak @pappachismoth @erinsingalong @letitiasleftfoot @eddiesguitarskills @trixyvixx @myfangirlheartsblog @emxxblog @hufflepuffobsessedwithmarvel @prettiest-angel @ajokeformur-ray @livsters @cherrycolas-things @chloe-6123 @hazydespair @wolfstarsiriusly @steveharringtonswifey-09 @avobabe87 @expiredcum21 @luna-munson83

Series Masterlist | Eddie Munson Masterlist

~ Actions Speak Louder Than Words ~

Your back arched off the bed ever-so-slightly.

"Feels good, doesn't it baby?"

You nodded.

He mimicked you, tauntingly. "I know it does baby—shit—keep grinding on my face, just like that." He gripped your hips tighter, guiding you, setting a faster pace as his tongue flicked at your clit.

You let out a low hum, eyes rolling back into your head.

"So, wet for me—" He moaned into your folds.

You tried to respond with your own forced moan, but that made him stop abruptly.

"No, none of that fake shit, 'kay? Eyes on me—I know when I'm doing my job right. Just sit back and let me do my thing." When his mouth finds his way back into your pussy your eyes squeezed shut immediately. "Yeah—that's it." He sucks at your clit.

You whined, softly. "Eddie," you whisper. Your hand flies down to tug at his hair, roughly.

"Oh, fuck, baby—gonna make me cum and I'm just the giver here. See? No need for that pretty little mind of yours to go overthinking about things that don't matter, right? Right." His tongue slips easily into your hole, plunging in and down.

You tugged at his hair harder, making him moan loudly. You felt the bed begin to move as his own hips rut into the mattress.

"Keep rolling your eyes back like that f'me. Oh god," he moaned again. "You're so goddamn sexy, you know that?"

His nose brushed your clit, a breathy moan escaped you. Your hips start moving against his face faster, his tongue meeting your pace. Your right hand gripping his hair while your left one grips the bedsheet. Your toes curl as he laps his tongue over your clit over and over again. You almost begged him not to stop, but it all felt too good, you couldn't find it in yourself to speak.

Instead you indulged in the feeling of pleasure, selfishly.

"Gonna cum, baby?" he asked. His voice was high and breathy.

You nodded. And finally whispered a 'yes'.

"Fuck—me too. Gonna make me cum in my pants with how good you taste, and that face of yours. God, that face of yours." He chuckled, sending vibrations up your body. "The way your body reacts to me... Jesus, it by itself could send me to Hell with the thoughts it gives me." He hummed into you.

You shuddered, and squirmed. He had to press your hips down into the mattress with his hands just to get you to stop moving. But, he didn't mind, he loved the way you sighed, and the way you threw your head back, and the way you arched your back for him while you grind yourself into his face over and over again, tasting the sweet taste of you on his tongue, and—

"Fuck, fuck—baby, I'm gonna cum," he whimpered. He dug himself deeper into your pussy, set on getting you to cum on his face. "C'mon baby, c'mon please cum for me, need you to cum on my face."

He heard your breath hitch in your throat. Your chest heaving as you choked on your own breaths that quickened.

"Yes just like that, baby, just like fucking that," he growled.

"I'm cumming, Eddie," you warn, in an airy whisper.

Incoming slick covered his nose, mouth, and chin. Moaning when he felt a new wetness, a sweeter, more richer taste that graced his tongue. You loudly sighed, mouth opened in a silent scream as your body convulsed, waves of pleasure rifled through you. Eddie's moans got bolder as he drank in your cum, harshly humping the bed as he whimpered and cried into your pussy when he came along only moments after you.

You slightly whined due to overstimulation, but he was quick to pull away to get a closer look at your dazed expression. He stood upright off the bed. "Be right back," he mumbled.

You only nodded, watching him, lazily, as he ran out of the room. Only a minute later did he come back in with some water, and a clean face. "Got you this," he said, setting it down on the nightstand beside you.

He looked down at you with a soft smile in which you returned. He reached out and brushed some strands of hair away from your face. "I want you to know that it doesn't—it wouldn't matter if you were loud or quiet in bed. That would be weird if I only liked you because you were loud during sex."

You laughed a little. "Yeah... just a bit, but it happens, you know?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, well... you have nothing to be worried about with me. I love you, and you... I hope you know that you can turn me on with just one look—even a hug or a light touch on my arm for christ sakes," he claimed, dramatically. "There's not another person in this world that gives me the same effect you give me..." His smile turned sheepish. "Which reminds me that I need to go clean up. But, you—you stay right here. Get under the covers, get comfortable, I'll be right back." He rushed to his drawers, pulling out a new pair of boxers, nearly tripping on the way out to the bathroom.

You found yourself smiling as he did so. You got up and grabbed a shirt and a pair of his boxers to put on yourself and got under the covers on his bed. The smell of his cologne, the smell of weed and cigarettes, all in which lingered on his bed engulfed you. You found peace within it. Feeling a warmth in the center of your chest as you closed your eyes.

You soon felt the mattress dip beside you, a new weight of Eddie's arm around your stomach, pulling you into his chest.

"I love you." He pressed a sweet kiss against your temple. Another one on your cheek.

Your heart skipped a beat. "I love you too," you replied.

Then his heart skipped a beat.

Next Chapter: ... We don't know, yet.

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natsessence · 2 years

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The New Maid

pairing | dom!natasha x sub!reader

summary | After being hired as a maid under Natasha Romanoff's care, your suspicions on her intentions with you soon grow weary. With her request to wear a revealing uniform and her elongated stares, it's not long before you can submit to more than just your attraction for her.

warnings (18+) | smut, dom/sub, dark-ish nat, praise kink, possessiveness, rough sex, fingering, mommy kink, bondage, dirty talk, degradation, spitting, slight spanking, multiple orgasms, oral sex, vibrators, mommy nat (drooling), short skirts, fucks you over her desk tbh

a/n | hi this has already been published on other platforms for a whileeeee but i’m trying to cross upload my work on here cause i wanna write more. this was also my first time writing anything ever (let alone smut) so enjoy :)) any feedback is appreciated!!

word count | 6.3k

warning! (18+): language and sexual content. please refer to tags before reading.

Working under Natasha Romanoff had been a dream. From the very generous pay to the no expenses of living in her lavish mansion, it baffles you how lucky you were to get this job. It started off as a one-time summer thing, a side hustle to earn some extra money before your sophomore year as a college student. But once you learned how well a live-in maid gets paid, you realized there were far too many benefits of pursuing the job for more than just one summer.

Training as a maid was quite simple as well, the owners would usually have articulated plans or certain schedules you follow throughout the day. However, Natasha Romanoff wasn't as easy, she had you by her side practically every second of the day. You're not exactly sure what her job specifically entails, but it must pay well for her to be able to afford such an enormous house. You're glad for the digital map of structure and layout otherwise you'd get lost just looking for the bathroom, which still occurred quite a lot. You do, however, know it has something to do with Stark Industries. When you've had to deliver messages or meals to her grand office, you've overhead her conversations with Tony Stark. Although, it sounded much more like she was talking to a friend than a business call, it was none of your business. She seemed to be a very powerful woman, and you'd hate to cross her, but so far, she's been nothing but more than accommodating.

It's only been a week, but you've wondered if she has other employees. So far, the only people you've seen, besides Natasha, is the chef, pool boy, gardener, and the silent security guards at every gate. You've yet to meet other maids or butlers for that matter but realized Natasha Romanoff is just one person. It'd be quite excessive to have multiple live-in maids. It just felt quite lonely to think about Natasha all alone in such a huge place.

Aside from the very small and revealing, cliche maid outfit she requested you wear the night you arrived, you figured Natasha was just a traditional woman and had no complaints. Especially none with spending almost every hour attending to Natasha Romanoff's needs. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt for her, but in all honesty, who could? She was an undeniably gorgeous woman. The long touches and stares she sent you at times didn't help either. You'd feel her eyes burn into you as you served drinks or prepared her dinner. The outfit she provided failed to hide the blush in your cheeks at every pet name she threw your way. Especially when she would say goodbye and leave a longing touch on your arm or stare at you too long. Every time you were with her things became much harder to focus on. But this job was the highest-paying gig you’ve ever had, so you’d have to suck it up and ignore the little (huge) crush until the end of summer.

Waking up and eyeing the maid uniform hung above your closet, you prepared yourself for your day. You'd assumed the outfit had probably been tailored for the last maid, who may have been (extremely) smaller than you. But with you having to do work around such a colossal property, it required you to move around a lot. So, when you had to practically walk everywhere and bend over every surface to reach the things, you would feel the rise in your skirt and always missed the smirk that rose to Natasha's lips when she was around you.

For the schedule today, you would help her prepare for an on-call business transaction. She asked you have her breakfast served in bed and prepare her outfit and office for her before noon. Simple enough. So, with a final brush of an invisible wrinkle on your top, you hurried along to serve Natasha her meal.

Knocking on the door three times with a tray of caviar buttered croissants, lobster scrambled eggs, and cinnamon brioche french toast in your arms, you opened it to find Natasha plaid in nothing but a black silk robe. Your eyes couldn't help but fall to her chest, where it was barely covered by the thin fabric, finding her cleavage peeking out tauntingly. Her red locks were barely tussled, you'd never be able to guess she had just gotten out of bed.

"Good morning, Ms. Romanoff. Here's your breakfast." You said as you placed the tray onto her bed and above her, your face dangerously close to her chest before you straightened yourself up by her beside.

"Mmm, good morning, my dear. Did you sleep well?" She asked, a smile playing at her lips at the sight of you as she faintly rubbed her eyes.

With your hands rested behind your back and a thump in your heartbeat at the use of the pet name, you replied, "Yes, splendidly, miss, thank you. Is breakfast to your liking?"

She groaned at the use of your "Miss and Missus," the first day you arrived she insisted that you use her first name; Natasha. She definitely wished for the use of a different name on your lips, but she couldn’t scare you away just yet. Using her forename never felt polite to you, and you're not sure you would be able handle letting her name roll off your tongue that easily when you could barely manage being in her presence. She gave up soon, but it's not like she didn't enjoy hearing you call her Ms. Romanoff, either. The sound of her name on your lips made her stomach twist with desire.

Your outfit was no mistake, either, she had of course received your profile and knew your measurements, she just couldn't resist seeing you in such a thing. Natasha was a woman that paid attention to detail. Usually, she'd never even have a live-in maid, or a maid at all for that matter. She'd probably just get Tony to whip up some robot to do all her biddings, but she wasn't that shallow. After Steve had teased her about living all alone in such a large home, she figured she just needed a little more human interaction in her home life. Eventually she found a housekeeping service. Intentionally, she had only wanted to find a maid or butler that would come in during the weekdays, but after crossing your profile and seeing your picture. She couldn't help herself. She found you irresistible and absolutely perfect. Even more when you met her, and she fell in love with your innocence, shy blushes, polite manner, and cute smiles. She felt like a teen all over again.

She knew she had to have you.

She raised her glare to find you obediently awaiting her answer. She smiled to herself, "Yes, sweetheart, it's divine. Tell Jeffrey I send my compliments. Have you eaten, my love?"

The painted pink on your checks only grew stronger with her constant use of pet names. Natasha knew this just as well, she loved seeing you blush and even more when she knew she was the reason why. "No, not yet miss. I was planning on picking up something on the way to prepare your office."

"That's nonsense, Jeffrey prepares an amazing breakfast every day. You've been here a week, honey, make yourself comfortable. It's practically your home, too." Your head dropped slightly, nodding at her reprimanding request.

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff,” before you could make your exit, she grabbed your wrist and tugged you into her bed, catching you in surprise. "While you're here, you might as well eat, darling."

It sounded more like a command, but you wouldn't deny her either way, knowing you were always hopelessly compliant to her demands. That's what made Natasha so set on you, not only were you a wonderful sight to see, your obedience is what made her sure you were perfect for her, even after only a week. No one had this effect on her as much as you did. She planned to make you hers, she just wasn’t sure how much longer she could wait.

You could barely move a muscle on the large black silk comforter of her bed, awaiting her next command and watching as her hands moved to slice the French toast and raise the fork to your mouth. You eyed her, hesitantly opening your mouth as she fed you.

"Good girl," she hummed satisfied, her eyes following your every move.

You nearly choked at her words, feeling your heart beat harder against your chest and heat rise to your cheeks. After a few more bites and her gazes in between, your heart paced even faster at her next move. "Stay still, honey, you have something righttt there." She said as her hand rose to grasp your face, her thumb moving to your bottom lip as she wiped away the powdered sugar that stained your mouth. She moved the same thumb to her own mouth and licked the residue slowly, glossy green eyes never leaving yours. You couldn't do much but stare starstruck at her lips in front of your face, agonizingly close as she licked them teasingly. The action alone made your stomach shudder sensually and pool heat to your center.

You composed yourself and mumbled a timid, "thank you." Before rising to your feet and picking up her tray to place onto a table to distract yourself from the wetness growing between your legs. "I'll get started on your outfit. Does it need pressing?" You said as you returned to her side. Natasha let out a small chuckle at her effect on you.

"Yes, I believe so. It's hung in my closet; you can do whatever you see fit. I trust your eye for clothing." She acknowledged with wink as she moved to grab her reading glasses and a book from her nightstand.

You nodded, moving to her walk-in closet and setting your eyes on her tailored, black suit. You planned on pressing it in the station of the laundry room before Natasha called out to you just as you were leaving, suit in hand.

"Do it in here, I want to see you." She said, signaling you to use the table that stood within her large bedroom. You couldn't help the thoughts running in your head, but only one remaining prominent; she wants to see you.

You swallowed a gulp and nodded compliantly, turning your back to her as you began pressing her suit. Natasha smiled to herself, enjoying the view in front of her as she occupied her mind of everything she would do once she got her hands on you. It was hard enough restraining herself from pouncing on you any second of the day, but with each movement your skirt rose ever so slightly, giving Natasha a perfect view of your white lace panties and having her wishing she could rip them right off. She was practically drooling at the sight.

Once you were done, you moved to hang it in her closet where it laid before. You returned to her side before clasping your hands behind your back and asking, "I've finished, Ms. Romanoff. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

She took a moment to drink you in, standing obediently in front of you in your tight outfit. Your breasts pushing against the fabric and legs covered in white stockings. Before eyeing you up and down, she hummed to herself, "There are lots of things you can do for me, sweetheart. But for now, everything is fine, thank you."

Your eyes widened slightly at her remark, were you hearing things? You weren't sure how much longer you would be able to handle this woman and her seductive teasing. But you blamed it all on your attraction for her, declaring you were just making up things in your head. You nodded and made your way to her grand door, feeling eyes glued to your body as you made your exit.

At noon exactly, you had already finished preparing Natasha's office for her business meeting, you were tidying her bookshelf when you heard the door open. Twisting your head to find her in the same suit you had pressed earlier today. It hugged her body perfectly, but you didn't have time to admire any further as you clasped your hands together to greet her. "Good afternoon, Ms. Romanoff. Your office is ready. Let me know if you need anything." You bowed slightly and continued to the door before she grabbed your arm as you attempted to brush past her. Your bodies were excruciatingly close, you hoped she couldn't hear your heart practically pounding out your chest.

"Stay, dove. You won't be a bother, just continue your work. If you've finished, you're free to leave. But I'd much rather you stay." She blew into your ear, her grip never loosening from your arm as you stood tense at her side.

"I-uh yes, Ms. Romanoff." She beamed at your answer, nodding and reluctantly letting you go. You already missed the feeling of her skin on yours. She continued to make her way behind her desk, sitting in her extravagant chair that made her look ten times more powerful. She began working on her computer, typing away and eyeing you every so often as she continued to work. It wasn't soon before her meeting began, you were thrilled to see her in action. Not knowing exactly what her job was, you were glad to at least gather some intel on what she did for a living. You barely understood the terminology or language they had been using throughout the meeting, you really wished you had taken Russian instead Spanish. You’re not sure if it would’ve mattered anyway because the majority of the time you were distracted by how hot Natasha was, exerting her power and getting fueled up when something didn't go her way, spitting out what you assumed were Russian curse words. You couldn't ignore the same pool of wetness that grew between your legs as you watched her intently. You didn't mind staying her office, sitting patiently in the seat across from her while reading a book you picked from her office library. Natasha most definitely didn't mind either, being able to watch your every move as she worked, she loved every second.

Once her meeting had finished you assumed she would dismiss you, so you rose to your feet as soon as she did. But she only moved to unbutton her blazer, releasing it and letting it drop down her arms with a frustrated sigh. The sight alone was probably the most attractive thing you’ve ever witnessed. Your eyes followed her as she moved to her serving cart and poured herself a glass of scotch, taking a sip with one hand before walking back to her previous spot. She stood across from you, eyeing you amusingly with one hand in her pocket while the other held her drink.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Ms. Romanoff?" You questioned hesitantly, noticing her irritation from the meeting and offering aid. At that remark, it seemed any residual anger from the businesswoman had disappeared and been replaced with lust.

"Yes, actually." She said, a smirk tugging at her mouth ever so slightly. You nodded eagerly, urging her to continue. "Come and kneel for me, sweetheart." You stood in shock for a moment, mentally pinching yourself to see if you'd heard her correctly. “Excuse me?”

When she gave you a look and reiterated it with a, “You heard me, pretty girl.” It was as if your body was on autopilot as your mind ignored the shock of her words and you nervously moved onto the space in front of her. Dropping to your knees compliantly and awaiting silently for her next direction, looking up to her face, doe-eyed and sweet.

She bit her lip as her hand rose to your face, her fingers sliding underneath your chin as her thumb swiped across your bottom lip once again. However, unlike this morning, her thumb pushed further into your mouth, behind your teeth and reaching your tongue. She took a moment to admire you, legs tucked underneath you as your hands rested in your lap pleasantly with her finger in your mouth. "You look so pretty like this, kotenok."

You squirmed on the floor underneath you, trying to ignore the soaked panties you had stained from being with Natasha all day. Wanting to please her, you wrapped your lips around her thumb, your cheeks hollowing around her while your eyes never left her hungry gaze.

Her eyes practically rolled to the back of her head. "Such a good girl. Skazhi mne krasivaya devushka (tell me, pretty girl), what do you want." She requested; her thumb coated in your saliva as she moved it from your mouth to let you answer.

"I- you. I-I want you."

"That's no way to ask, little girl. Where are your manners?"

"Sorry, Ms. Romanoff."

"Wrong. Try again. Tell mommy what you want. Correctly, this time." She released as her grip tightened around your jaw.

"I-I want you, mommy. Please."

She groaned at your words, grinning slyly as her hand continued to caress your face.

She had you right where she wanted you.

"What a good little girl you are. Come sit on mommy's lap, sweetheart." She let out as she dropped to her chair and tapped her right knee twice, thighs spread to leave room for you in between her legs.

Like the obedient girl you were, you rose to your feet, taking only a few steps towards the woman in front of you with insatiable hunger. As you took your place on her lap, your skirt flew up, leaving nothing but your bare bottom in lace panties on Natasha's thigh. Her hand immediately moved to your thigh, rubbing slowly as it made its way up and down. You whimpered in frustration, wanting to feel her hands all over your body. Eventually she reached your clothed heat, stroking painfully slow over your drenched panties. You tried not to squirm under her touch, wanting to push yourself further onto her fingers but her hand firmly wrapped around your waist kept you in place.

She noticed your impatience, chuckling softly before swiping her fingers harder against your core. You moaned at the feeling, pushing your hip into her hand, desperate for her touch.

"Greedy slut, aren't you?" You couldn't answer, your mind only focusing on grinding your hips against her now spread-out palm.

But soon you felt a stinging slap against your thigh, dangerously close to your heat, you jumped in surprise and whined at the loss of her hand against you. "Answer me."

"Yes, mommy, only for you. Please, I want you so bad."

You didn't have time to concentrate or dwell on the loss as she began stroking your bare thigh again, spreading your legs firmly and pushing her fingers back to rub circles against your cunt. Her mouth soon attached itself to your ear as your mouth was left open at the sensation, letting out labored breaths.

She slid her tongue around your lobe and into your ear, "You have no idea what you do to me, kotenok. Walking around in that little outfit, I've wanted to fuck you senseless since the day you walked in here."

Your legs closed in reflex, feeling the undeniable drench between your legs. But Natasha only growled against your ear, moving her leg to wrap around your ankle, keeping your bottom strapped against her.

"Is that what you want, pretty girl. You want me to fuck you so hard you can’t walk?" She teased across your cheek, peppering wet kisses along your jaw and to your lips, leaving her centimeters away from your mouth. You knew better to answer this time, closing your eyes from sensation of her palm rubbing against you.

"Yes, mommy. I want you inside of me, please, I need you so bad." You whined against her and moaned once she moved your panties to the side and slid her fingers through your juices.

"Oh baby, you're soaked. My good little girl, all wet for me, huh." She continued, looking up to your flustered face as you writhed on top of her.

Before continuing her movements, she paused, "Say red if you want to stop, sweetheart, I won't be mad. Yellow if you want to slow down and green for go. Understood?"

You nodded before realizing she wanted a verbal response. "Yes, mommy."

"Good, printsessa," she smiled before shoving her fingers into your heat, muffling your moan with her mouth and she connected your lips into a heated kiss.

You could barely focus on kissing her back with the way her fingers were deepening inside you. You so desperately wanted to keep up, and you loved the feeling of her plush red lips on yours. The way she tasted only made you crave more; cherry and scotch, it was as addicting as it was sexy. She moved with incredible expertise, knowing how to get you breathless with a lick of her tongue against yours. You could feel her smirk against your mouth when you struggled to keep up with her hungry kisses, instead letting out breathy moans into her mouth. Natasha continued exploring your mouth, growing wetter at the sight of the strings of your mixed saliva connecting your mouths.

She continued her thrusts, adding another finger as her thumb rubbed against your clit, only causing more sounds to escape your mouth. Just as you felt yourself clench around her fingers and tighten your fists as your hips rode against her, she pulled them out, eliciting another whine at the loss. Releasing her hand drenched in your juices and sliding it into your mouth. You were forced to open wide as she commanded.

"Shut up and suck," you did exactly that, running your tongue through her manicured digits and tasting yourself around her. You loved the way her eyes were devouring you, as if she was about to rip you apart on the spot.

She moved to grab your wrist, moving your hand to let you feel her packing through the crotch of her pants as you began stroking her through the fabric. Your thighs clenching at the thought of how big it was. "You want my cock, printsessa, huh? Wanna get it all nice and wet for your pussy?"

You didn't waste a second to respond, desperately letting out a "Yes, mommy, please."

She grinned at your eagerness, motioning her head to the floor in front of her again and saying, "On your knees, krasivaya devushka." You obeyed, dropping to the carpet beneath you once again and placing your hands neatly flat onto your lap.

She watched you like a hawk before rising to her feet, towering over you before unbuckling her belt in front of your face. She pulled the belt from its loops and circled to your back, pulling your arms from in front of you and locking them together in her belt against your back. The position only brought your breasts up further against your tight outfit, displaying them in front of your body. Natasha moved in front of you once again, enjoying the sight but still insatiably wanting more.

"Color, my love."

"Green, mommy."

She smiled before kissing your cheek. After a pause she moved her hand to grab her drink once again, taking a sip before deliberately extending her arm out and pouring it into your cleavage, feeling the cold liquid roll through your body and onto your stomach as your mouth drew out a gasp.

"Oh my, I'm so clumsy, dove. Let mommy help you with that." Natasha feigned with faux innocence as she bent her body down to your level, eyeing your shiny chest and immediately ripping apart the blouse effortlessly with both of her hands. It left you in your matching white lace bra, presenting your breasts perfectly into Natasha's view. She groaned, moving her two hands to grope them above the fabric. You could only watch, immobile with your hands tied behind your back as she unclipped your bra and let it fall down your arms. Your heart raced against your chest as she moved to the drink once again, dropping the cold liquid all over your bare chest as inhaled sharply, feeling the cold sensation run down your body. Natasha only stared further, wanting this picture of you to last in her mind forever. She opted for the next best thing, reaching for her phone on the desk and angling it to get you into view. She snapped a photo of you, knowing she would be using it for later purposes and hoped she would have enough for an album soon, she would make sure of it. She couldn't help herself and soon enough, began sliding her tongue up against your stomach and around your breasts, palming the opposite one and pinching around your nipples. She sucked each of them, humming at the taste of scotch tainting your skin as your arousal grew as you watched her worship you.

After enough teasing, she moved to drop her pants in front of you, revealing the large red strap on teasing your face. She shoved two fingers into your mouth again, coating them in your saliva before she gripped your cheeks open and tilted your face up to her. "Swallow." She directed as she leaned down to drop a ball of her saliva into your mouth before kissing it. She hummed against your face and continued to stand up straight in front of you, pushing the strap into your face.

"Good girl, and you know what good girls get?"

You shook your head, awaiting her response before she continued and began playing with your nipples, "they get to suck on Mommy's cock, you want that, baby, don't you?"

"Yes, mommy, please." You whimpered from underneath her, fighting the urge to rub your heat against the floor.

She pinched down extra hard on your breasts, tugging at the tip and taking the opportunity to shove herself down your throat when you opened it to moan. You internally thanked yourself for your lack of a gag reflex, adjusting to her size quickly as you let her continue. She picked up her pace, both her hands traveling to tug onto your hair and keep you firmly thrusting back and forth on her appendage. Your cheeks hollowed against the toy, swallowing whole to please her.

"That's right, baby, sucking my cock like a good slut. You're such a pretty girl, aren't you, my pretty little girl." Natasha moaned out between her rough thrusts.

Soon she released you, a string of your saliva connecting to tip of her cock and tears brimming your eyes when she pulled your hair back to move your mouth off of her. "What a mess you are. I bet that pussy's just as much of a mess, huh? Why don't we check. Stand up, slut."

You gathered your breath and brought yourself to feet, struggling slightly as your thighs rubbed together and your hands still remained tied behind your back. Natasha smirked at your appearance, chest open at her mercy and plaid in a skirt with suspenders connected to your white stockings.

You were soaked, you knew it, too. You could feel your wetness roll down your thigh and feel it press against your panties. You'd do anything to relieve yourself, but you were completely at Natasha's will.

"Oh, I'll never get tired of this. Maybe I'll make you walk around the house like this. Put on some panties with a vibrator in it and watch you tremble while you do your chores. You'd like that wouldn't you, pretty girl." She teased, her hands caressing your backside before delivering a smack to your ass. You jumped in surprise, squealing before answering her. "Mmph! Mhm! Anything to please you, mommy."

She groaned into your ear, feeling her body ghost over your back as her hands massaged your bottom. After moving to face you once again, her hands never resisting the chance to grope your boobs, she moved her hand down your core. Rubbing the fabric against your cunt as her palm made contact with your clit, making you jerk forward and whimper in pleasure. She released her hand from you, removing your skirt and moving to slide her hand down your stomach and to the top of your panties. She followed the pattern of the lace before hooking her fingers and dropping them to the floor. You stepped out of them and felt yourself being pushed down onto the desk, bending over and wondering when she had cleared it for you. You turned your head to the side, looking down and noticing the mess of papers on the floor from cleaning off her desk. You wondered if you would still be responsible for cleaning it.

Her nails pressed into the curve of your back, pushing you down against the cold wooden desk. Her hands found her way back to your bare bottom, sliding down to smack it once again. You screamed in surprise, knowing it had been harder than the last.

"If you can't keep that pretty little mouth of yours closed, I'm gonna have to do something about it." She vocalized above you.

"I'm sorry, mommy, I'll be good."

"You will be, princess. Now, look at what we have here, such a pretty little pussy. Can't wait to bury myself inside you, baby. Gonna fuck you like the whore you are." Natasha groaned at the thought, enjoying the whimpering mess you were bent over her desk. She dropped to her knees behind you, running her tongue up your thigh and following the trail of your slick until she reached the spot you needed most.

You let out a sob in relief, moving back to grind against her tongue and the way it pressed flat against your heat. She continued her movements, teasing your folds before shoving her tongue inside of you. Once she began to play with your clit, you screamed in pleasure, but soon whined once she retracted her mouth. It wasn't soon before she appeared in front of your eyes with your white lace panties in hand.

"I told you to be quiet, slut. Now mommy's gonna have to do something about that." She scolded before rolling your drenched panties into a ball and into your mouth, gagging you. She caressed your face gently as she smiled down at you, brushing loose strands of hair from your face before moving behind you once again. She pulled your hair, lifting your body flush against hers. "Now, kroshka, I'm gonna play with your pretty little pussy and if you can be a good girl, I'll let you come. But if you can't keep those panties in your mouth, I'll be punishing you tonight. Color."

"Green." You let out, muffled by the fabric occupying your mouth. She flipped your body to face her, using her muscled arms to lift your hips onto her desk and manhandling you. She forced your legs apart, letting cool air hit your bare bottom and drop your wetness onto her desk. Natasha loved the sight of your cunt glistening in front of her. You placed your palms on the surface behind you to sturdy yourself, but once your eyes widened at the vibrator Natasha had in her hand, you weren't sure you'd be able to hold yourself together. She laughed at your reaction, moving her hands to your breasts again and stroking over your nipples.

Catching you off guard, she immediately pressed the vibrator down to your core, buzzing against you and having you scream in pleasure against your gag. She immediately began rubbing it through your folds, teasing you and ignoring the only spot you truly desired. You wailed against her, pushing yourself further onto the machine before she slapped your thigh.

"Naughty girl, I'm the only one who gets to fuck you. Stay still, or your wrists won't be the only thing that's tied." She ordered, pressing further against your cunt and clutching at your nipples.

She took mercy on you, moving the vibrator onto your clit and enjoying your reaction as you moaned in pleasure on top of her. Your head was thrown back, and your eyes rolled to back of your head once she began fucking you with two fingers. You could hear the obscene noises coming from your core as she thrusted into you, even louder were the groans and whimpers escaping your throat, only to be muffled by the gag.

"You hear that? You're so wet against my fingers, can't imagine how you're gonna sound taking my cock, slut." She continued to curl her fingers against you, moving the vibrator against your clit painfully. You could feel yourself reaching the edge, bucking your hips into her movements and whining against the device.

"You wanna cum, pretty girl?" You nodded frantically above her, practically riding her fingers as the sensation on your heat grew stronger.

"Cum all over my fingers. Now." She demanded, adding a third finger. You did just that, biting down on your gag before becoming a whining mess. Covered in your own slick as the sensation washed over you while Natasha kept her pace. Your thighs were trembling on top of the desk when you let out a final cry, collapsing against her.

She halted her movements and grazed her hand over your face as she pulled your panties out of your mouth. Sweat was trembling down your body as she began kissing your face. You struggled to keep your eyes open to watch her suck each of the fingers she had fucked you with. You could taste yourself on her tongue as she connected your mouths, dominating you in record time. Your breath hitched when her hands and lips began to roam all over your body. Tweaking with your nipples in one hand while she sucked the other.

Soon the toy between her legs found its way between your folds, sliding itself against your sensitive cunt and becoming coated in your cum. It wasn't long before you were dripping again, despite barely coming down from your orgasm.

"Is my printsessa ready for my cock?" She taunted, continuing to grind her hips into your center. You gasped as the toy slid across your clit, attempting to thrash away from the feeling but Natasha's hand on your leg kept you still as she released a dark chuckle.

You gathered your thoughts, responding to her before you received punishment. "Yes, mommy. Please."

"Aw, my pretty girl can do better than that. Beg me, slut."

You writhed on top of her, letting the moans fall effortlessly from your throat as you rolled your hips on her length. Natasha noticed you getting lost in enjoyment before she moved her cock away from you and slapped it against your cunt. "Answer me."

You struggled to get your words out, growing frustrated you shouted, "P-Please, fuck me! Need you inside of me, I'll be a good girl. Please just fuck me, mommy! Use me!"

She grinned, beaming at your desperation and wasted no time before lining her tip and inserting herself into your core. The moan you let out was the loudest yet, your head was thrown back in pleasure and mouth left open as she plunged herself further into you.

"Oh my- fuck. Nat, you're so big."

Her head snapped up to your face, you hadn't noticed your slip-up but once she gave you no warning and slammed her entire length into your pussy, you could only scream in satisfaction. Natasha roughly picked your body up from the desk, twisting you and shoving your head down to bend over once again. Her cock never escaping your pussy, she began relentlessly thrusting into you, her hands reaching in front of her to grab your hair.

"That's not my name, naughty girl." She scowled, her hand coming down to smack your bottom repeatedly while you flailed beneath her.

"S-sorry, mommy! Please, harder, you feel so good." You cried between her thrusts. You didn't think it was possible for Natasha to quicken her pace, but she began pushing in and out of you rapidly, the only sounds filling the room were her grunts, the embarrassing squelch of your pussy, and sound of her skin flapping against yours when she bottomed out at each thrust.

"Such a dirty girl, taking mommy's cock so well. This pussy was made for me, wasn't it, baby." She moaned on top of you, pulling your hair to bring your back flush against her body. Her hand moved to your bare stomach, gliding to clutch your breasts and pull at your nipples. You let your head fall back onto her shoulder, you could feel your knees trembling from beneath you. If it weren't for Natasha's sharp thrusts and hands holding your body, you're not sure you would be able to stand on your own.

Once her fingers found its way to your sensitive clit you couldn't take it anymore, between her rubbing circles on your clit and her relentless force on your cunt you felt yourself helplessly clenching and squirming around the toy.

"P-Please, mommy, can I c-come." You cried, your voice wavering between her movements.

"Come, baby, be a good girl for mommy." Natasha began focusing on pleasuring you, playing with your clit and reaching to tug on your nipples while she fucked you into your orgasm. Her hips continued ramming into you as your rode out your high, letting out noises you didn't know you were capable of making and screaming her name in a loud moan.

You slumped against her body, breathless and covered in cum, sweat, and alcohol. You turned your head to face Natasha tirelessly, she smiled against you and placed a kiss to your lips.

"My good little girl, you did so well, detka." You hummed at her praise, enjoying the feeling of her fingertips caressing your body while her strap was still buried inside you.

"Come on, baby, let's get you cleaned up."

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leighsartworks216 · 8 months

Text

I Come With Knives Pt2

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Part 1

I am posting this at almost 1am AND I have to get up early tomorrow to do work for class before the actual class haha I plan my time accordingly

I was going to make this chapter longer. I had an idea and I started to write it, but it just wasn't coming out like I wanted it to (bc I'm writing at 12am duh) so I'm gonna put that in another chapter

Warnings: mentions of torture, trauma, hints of paranoia, hints of self-deprecation

Word Count: 1,390

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First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

I Come With Knives Masterlist

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After a grueling battle yesterday, you chose to give everyone a day off. It gave them time to rest aching muscles, repair and sharpen weapons, relax. It gave you a chance to bathe.

You didn't neglect your hygiene, but most of the time, once camp was set up, the sun would be dipping below the horizon. On those days, you'd run into the water, scrub the gunk out of your hair and get out, back to the safety of company before the first stars faded in. Now that you had the chance, you weren't going to squander it.

Once you were certain you were alone - an uncomfortable thought soothed only by the sun filtering in through the canopy above - you stripped down and waded into the water. It was cool, but not unpleasantly so. You wasted no time scraping the dirt and blood off your skin.

Once you cleaned your body within an inch of its life, you ducked your head under the water and scrubbed at your hair and scalp. It was disgusting - you could only imagine the smell your companions had put up with this last week. You were just so happy you were clean. Your hair was smooth as water soaked it through, no knots or clumps of blood to be found. As you squeezed out the excess water, you caught your reflection between the ripples. In moments where it stilled enough, you could see the scar on your neck. It was still deep and prominent, but it was beginning to heal. It'd never healed before.

"Enjoying yourself?"

You nearly shrieked when you turned, sinking into the water up to your neck for protection. Astarion chuckled at your reaction.

"Would it kill you to stop sneaking up on me?"

"I was practically stomping like an ogre, dear, it's hardly my fault you weren't paying attention." You shot him a glare, but it was half-hearted. It was your fault you let your guard down. In the day, you were safe from (most) vampires, but there were any number of things ready to attack at any moment. "Mind if I join you?"

You shake your head, but you're already wading to shore to grab your clothes. "No, go ahead. I'm done."

"Leaving already?" You nod, not making eye contact. "I won't look, darling, if that's what's got you so flustered."

You pause mid reach for your shirt as he removes his, placing it haphazardly on a rock by the water's edge. His pants came next and you looked away until you heard the water sloshing around him.

"Though, I don't mind if you look," he teased, sparing one last glance over his shoulder before he got to work cleaning himself.

Gods, if he could hear the way your heart raced... You peek over, just a glance, before you look back at your clothes. But then you're looking again.

An intricate scar of circles, lines, and curved symbols marred his back. You feel your throat close just looking at it. You'd been forced to watch spawn and slaves alike punished by the cracking of a whip. Forced to keep your eyes forward by a hand on your jaw as the leather snapped and tore into their skin. This was worse. This was deliberate.

"Did..." You swallow, forcing your voice not to crack with the sorrow you felt for him. "Did your master do this?"

He hummed, continuing to wash his arms as though you'd asked him about the weather. The only hint it bothered him at all was the way his muscles tensed and the disdain in his voice. "Cazador," he spat. "He considered himself quite the artist and used his slaves as a canvas." His movements slowed to a stop. "He composed and carved that one over the course of a night. He made... a lot of revisions as he went."

You couldn't stop staring. Your mind kept replaying the torture you witnessed, but it replaced their cries with Astarion's voice. You hated to be so lucky. To be so fortunate that your master wanted you to look absolutely perfect and unmarked. You never received physical punishment. You were too precious.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, shakily. "If I could, I'd..." What? Remove the markings forever? Take away his pain and suffering? Go back and change everything so he never had to be a puppet? You couldn't do anything. You can't help. You can't remove that pain. All you can do is witness the aftermath.

He sighed and ducked his head so he could wash his hair. Drops of water slid down his back, only drawing your eyes in further. “It won’t matter when we get to Baldur’s Gate. I’m going to kill that bastard for everything he did to me.”

You know you should leave. Put on your clothes and slink away. But… being around Astarion isn’t entirely unpleasant. You’re still a little scared of him - of what he could do, but you trust him enough to believe he wouldn’t do those things. He probably understood your plight better than anyone else.

So, you slide down into the water until you’re resting on your knees in the silt. It doesn’t quite cover your neck unless you duck deeper in. You want to hide the scar, the damn mark showing everyone else who - or rather, what you belonged to. But it felt wrong to try hiding it when Astarion was fully showing you his.

“I never asked who your master was.” He turns his head slightly, eyes just barely catching sight of you. He did promise he wouldn’t look, after all. “Where she…” He waved a hand noncommittally and scowled. “Rules.”

Her eyes flash in your mind, wicked and burning. You almost flinch just thinking about them. When you speak her name, your voice trembles. “Kir Parthene. I… don’t remember where she lives. It’s been years since I’ve even been outside - I must have forgotten.”

He slowly turns, giving you time to tell him to turn back again, but you don’t. You watch him through a fog of memories. “How long were you enslaved?”

It’s harder to answer than you thought it would be. Time begins to blur when you can’t tell if it’s night or day, when everything is fuzzy and incoherent because you never had enough blood to think straight. Sometimes she’d feed and then leave you for days. Others, she never wanted to stop feeding - drinking from you morning and night before you ever got a chance to recover. You were a slave to her hunger - time never mattered.

“I was… 16 when I was taken.” You wrap your arms around yourself. Safe. “I don’t even remember home. My parents… I’m all alone.”

He’d never heard your voice so small before. You weren’t the most demanding leader, but you could still bark commands when things were getting rough. You even held yourself well in conversation, shutting down lopsided deals or uncomfortable topics with all the authority of a royal guard. It was easier, seeing you like this, to imagine your life in servitude. Meek and quiet.

“That’s not entirely true.” He kneeled in the silt a few feet from you, smirking. “You have us for as long as this adventure lasts, as long as we don’t transform into tentacled Mind Flayers.”

“And then after that?” He shifts uncomfortably at the question. “Everyone will go their separate ways, and when you do I’m a sitting duck. I’ll be captured again. Used again.”

You trail off, but the weight of your words sit heavy. You’ll never be free. You could help everyone else with their quests, help them free themselves from what ties them down, help them get stronger - but the same couldn’t be done for you. Without knowing where your master lives, there’s no way to seek her out and kill her, too.

The water is too cold now. The cool summer breeze only freezes you more. Astarion watches as you get up and slink back over to your clothes. He looks away before he can see anything you wouldn’t want him to. In no time at all, your clothes are back on and you’ve pulled on your boots. But before you walk away, you turn to him. Your eyes are so sad.

“Thank you. For… showing me.” He says nothing. So you head back to camp. Alone.

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis

@hypopxia

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sky-kiss · 8 months

Note

Hi there, it's me, your girl, knocking on your door and asking for a tiny fic if you take to this prompt 😊

Strip poker. Lmao no. But maybe. It'd just be Tav getting naked as they lose horribly to him.

Okay actual prompt, sorry. I love possessive Raphael, it shivers me timbers.

What if after he successfully gets the Crown with Tav's help. And Tav thinks they're done forever, and is sad about it during their hurrah meal (THAT HE PROMISED US BUT WE DIDNT GET IN GAME?), but Raphael is very much not done with Tav yet. But plays them along a little, delighting in how attached they seem to be to him.

But also, feel free to do the strip poker adjacent if that appeals more. 😉 Thank you my dear!

________

A/N: I’m going to be super honest, babe. I almost did the strip poker prompt.

________

“This, my dear, to a most successful partnership.” Raphael held up his glass, a beautiful crystal flute that seemed to catch the firelight; held it. Tav didn’t want to guess how rare it was, or how much it cost. Raphael seemed inclined to excess; the meal he’d promised so many moons prior reflected those beliefs. The first wine he’d served was centuries old; the second was even older. The gown he’d left provided, perfectly tailored, was set with enough jewels to sustain a small kingdom.

Tav smiled at his toast but could not find it in herself to respond. As fine as the night had been, it held a note of finality that sat heavy on her heart. It was the bow on his victory and his crown. After this, they’d go their separate ways.

It was objectively the correct course of action. Dealing with a devil of any sort was ill-advised; dealing with one so intimately bordered on suicide.

Raphael smirked at her, cocking his head to the side. The firelight caught him in profile, sharpening already fine features, casting his eyes in deeper shadows. He leaned forward. “My, has the cat finally caught your tongue? Here? At the end of all things?”

“Not in the least. Only tired.”

“I could send you back…”

“No!” The answer was far too quick. The devil arched a brow, smiling with teeth. He folded his hands in front of him, long fingers interlaced. Tav tried not to fixate on them, or the way his thumb shifted, stroking some invisible line across his wrist. “No, that isn’t necessary. It’s only…I supposed a part of me didn’t expect things to end so soon.”

“But it’s been months, my sweet. Are you not tired of the road? The violence?” Lower, a note of teasing crept into his voice. “My company?” Tav huffed. The adventurer sipped her wine to stop her immediate reply. The one the devil undoubtedly wanted. His eyes, bright as hellfire, glowed. “It should grieve me to leave you wanting, little mouse. You need only say that word and…” he snapped his fingers. The candles leaped with new liveliness before fading to a more intimate level. “We might find some new way to occupy our time.”

“You have hells to conquer.”

“And what is a conquest without dear friends?” He chuckled, and Tav fought the urge to shiver. The fireplace was far too large for the banquet hall. Avernus was naturally hot. The air in her lungs felt stagnant and overheated. “Admit it. You're curious. What will Raphael accomplish?”

“I don’t doubt you if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Never. I would not dream of slandering my talents or your good sense, pet.” He extended his hand, palm up. “But I would never force my suit. You are, as ever, entirely free to make your own choices.”

Tav pursed her lips. The little alarm in the back of her head was screaming. Run, it said, get far from here and far from him. She’d never been good at listening to those notes of reason. Raphael must have seen it too. The devil smirked, the right corner of his lips curling back to highlight the point of his fangs. “I wouldn’t…see us part ways. Not yet.”

“Mmm. And why not? Indulge this…inquiring mind.”

She sighed, shrugging. “Because I’m…fond of you, devil.”

“Good girl, honesty is always the best policy.” Gods, but he looked insufferably pleased with himself. Raphael leaned back, resting his chin in his palm. He drummed his fingers against his cheek. “It would be dangerous for you to stay, of course, and I could never endanger one so dear to me. Unless…” he let the sentence hang between them, full of potential and thoroughly premeditated. Tav could feel the noose tightening, the hooks he’d set in her flesh from their first meeting tugging at her soul. “A patron makes all the difference in the hells. Were you to swear yourself to me, you might remain.”

She laughed. “Is that all? Just put myself in your hands?”

“My hands, my lap, my bed.” His smirk took on a particularly feline quality. “Don’t look so surprised, pet. I kept the Emperor out of that lovely head. Did you think I hadn’t seen what was in it?”

He made a vague gesture with his left hand, and those lurid imaginings came forward. The dreams that had chased Tav into an uneasy sleep for months: his touch smoothing over her hips. His mouth on her breasts. Touching, and teasing, and…

“Enough.” She swallowed, head spinning. “You’ve made your point.”

“Swear you are mine, devote yourself to me, and I will give all your imaginings form. What is one mortal life compared to pleasure eternal?” He held out his hand again.

And Tav took it.

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #my fic #asks #tav is drinking idiot juice bless their heart

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miyaur · 1 year

Text

𝄞 — capitano, tartaglia/childe (fem reader) — ❝ you're both ours, don't complain. ❞

summary: you were a rather cute secretary that was under capitano, a well known, and mighty harbinger. walking in on your boss and the 11th harbinger having a duel, deciding to have a change of plans the moment you walked in.

a/n: i've been trying to write this for so long but prince kaeya had to come first 😔😔.. ok but i'm so sorry posting some thing later than usual schedule, school finally started and not that proud of my exam scores, writing is fr my only escape <;/3

warnings: nsfw, threesome, dom!capitano, dom!tartaglia/childe, sub!reader, pussy eating,

being capitano's secretary, doing groceries, helping him out with paperwork, is the usual, but every year, there comes a time where capitano gets into the mood, and need to take it out on something, or someone, whether it'd be stress, or sexual frustration. and you.. ohh you.. you were really just the cutie he needed.

tartaglia, the youngest of harbingers. you've met him before, what a pretty man! he was very much somewhat carefree, constantly asking every good fighter he meets for a spar. he always asked your boss to duel a ton too! you understand why though, capitano is quite strong, and big~

although, you definitely didn't know how tartaglia had convinced capitano into sparring with him. maybe he felt bad? oh well. but it was just a normal day, finishing up a bit of paperwork for capitano, wanting to see if they both had finished.

"hi sir! are you.. finished?" peaking through the door of the room, watching them both covered in sweat, tired from fighting, clothing almost torn off fully. getting flustered and apologizing till a huge hand grabs you by your waist

a husky voice whispers into your ears "stay. i believe i need help with a special something. actuslly me and my good friend, childe." pulling you back to the position him and tartaglia were in. "i- anything for you sir?" stammering over your words, yet confused, placing you on his lap, revealing what was under your skirt, nothing (lol), "dirty girl, wanting to be fucked so bad." he said taking off your shirt, chest being revealed, "oh, you must be so excited, already wet for us hm?" childe questions, slowly sinking his tongue into your pussy, licking your clit, as capitano's hands rub over your boobs. chulde lapping at your juices like it's his last meal, or beter yet his first meal in a long time, but it's true that he's never tasted something better than his cooking.

both of them pleasuring you, making you closer and closer to finishing, to reach your high. feeling a knot in your stomach, fonally breaking you cum all over childe's mouth, and he's glad to clean of your mess. "that feel good, cutie?" looking happier than ever, chukde wipes off any excess cum from his face, "i'm very sure my little secretary enjoyed it." capitano replied, he lifts you up so his cock can enter you, feeling his head, what if it.. it didn't fit? how is soemthing so big supossed to fit in your tight hole?

your ass is already so tired, and slowly you felt tartaglia put his cock in your mouth, making you slowly rock back and forth (indeed you are on all fours..), for hours on end. you fainted after they both finally released inside you, next thing you saw, you woke up in capitano's room, as he was reading something to you, "i'm sorry about last night.. we both brought you here, taetaglia would like to give you this." a little box of chocolates, jewelry, and a note that says "sorry for rearranging your insides, please accept this apology."

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romanoffsbish · 1 year

Text

Do I Know You?

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

Request: lil anon.

Natasha loved you, that much she knew, but the closer your binding nuptials came the more she felt a need to run. So, that’s exactly what she does, but when she returns a year later nothing was the same. You were made to forget her, and in turn your once blooming love that she’s desperate to reignite.

Warnings: Alluded to Violence/Brainwashing. Heartbreak. Feigned Amnesia. (Happy Ending)

Alluded to Smut | 18+ | Minors DNI

"Another one?" Natasha nodded with a wince, she could already feel a headache drawing on from the excess amount of liquor she's downed thus far, but she deemed it her underwhelming punishment for what she did to you today.

For breaking your heart, time and time again she chose the life of superhero over you, even when she didn't need to. It's not like you didn't understand the mission here or there, you too were an Avenger who understood that duty calls, a few missed dates caused little harm.

There's got to be a line drawn though, and you expected that she knew your wedding was one of those times, but she practically begged Fury to let her onto a mission, in front of your face like your feelings didn't matter; she refused to believe you when you said it was the last straw.

——

So, she very well placated you, lying with too much ease about turning it back down after all, and for a few short days it was back to bliss. Natasha held you so close, cherishing you because she knew she'd have to fight to get you back when she returned, but she needed time.

It all went swimmingly until you were standing alone at the altar, all your mutual friends were sat in shock at the sight of a gap where your blushing bride should've been, but wasn't.

So now she's drowning her sorrows in a bottle of whiskey in some foreign country because she likely ruined the one good thing she's ever had.

——

Natasha's foot tapped against the bottom of the Quinjet anxiously, it'd been a year since she left, every time she pleaded with Fury to stop extending the mission it's like he doubled it.

She had a plan: take the three months to fix herself while doing what she's best at, then come home and make it all right with you.

However plans never seem to work out in her favor, and she is drowning in self deprecating thoughts as she ponders if you've forgiven her.

Did you meet someone else? Are they taking up the right side of the bed in your shared room?

Natasha bit her lip at the painful thought.

Will she be able to undo the pain she caused? Can she convince you to forgive her just this additional time, and promise it'll be different?

She will beg down on her knees if she has to.

Will she be different? Or will she just pretend until she can't anymore, and fall back into running away whenever she began to feel like she couldn't possibly live without you.

She's never needed anyone before, it terrifies her to need you, but she can't fight it anymore.

No, that much she knew was over. Because in the year she was forced to be without you it became rather apparent that she was correct. Living without you was a miserable experience; not hearing your giggles in the middle of the night when you should both be sleeping, or to not have you tucked into her, safe and sound.

Natasha realized that everything she was running from was everything she ever wanted. Loving you wasn't a burdening thing like her past tried to convince her it was, she was not about to be tied down and have her will taken. No, she was just signing up for a life with you by her side, and she realizes now that she has to fix this because now she can't imagine her life any other way then with you as her wife.

As soon as the jet landed she was racing off to find you, and once she reached the kitchen her search was over. There you stood with a mug in hand talking to Wanda in your Stitch pajamas. Natasha moved on impulse, her body needed to feel yours, so she catapulted into you without a second thought on as to if she was allowed to.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry, please forgive me," she sobbed into your shirt, and you froze upon feeling her tears seep through to your chest.

"I'm sorry, but do I know you?" Natasha froze, entire body tensing as you spoke, because the tone you used was one of innocence, and not one full of malice or contempt. You were asking her an honest question, and it terrified her.

"I'm your fiancée?"

"Were," Wanda softly corrected with a glare fixated upon the absolute mess of a woman.

"I'm so confused..." you whispered, and the woman pulled away from your hold, the one you graciously allowed her to remain in with a deep frown, and eyes glistening with tears.

"You don't remember me?" Natasha shakily asked, her arms now wrapping around her body as she took tentative steps backwards.

"I know who you are," you admitted, "Just not how you're supposed to be important to me."

Natasha nodded, then before you could break her heart any further she was taking off to her old room so that she could be sick.

"Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"I thought all your memories came back?"

"They did," you replied with a saddened smile, "But I don't know if I want to remember her."

—

After crying herself into a restless nap Natasha woke up with a start, hand flying out to grasp you to pull you close but she was reminded for the umpteenth time that you weren't there.

Nothing made sense before without you, but after seeing you it makes even less sense, and in order to get answers Natasha jumped up and ran to Fury for them, and as she drove closer to Shields headquarters she fears her continued mission extensions were intermixed with why.

"Agent Romanoff, welcome home," the stoic man greets without even looking up, he didn't need to with the way she slammed his door into the wall without a shred of remorse.

"What happened to Y/N?"

"And here I thought you were here with completed mission reports, and detailed ones at that since I heard you sustained an injury."

"Stop giving me the fucking run around Nick."

"You broke her heart, and that trickled into a long winded year of saving the poor girl."

"From what?"

"Hydra."

Natasha's knees gave out, causing her body to fall into the mans couch with a tightness in her chest. "Nick, what are you saying? I-I don't understand, what happened? If she was in danger why didn't anyone tell me? Is this why my fucking mission was pointlessly extended?"

"I haven't the time to offer you explanations, I'm needed elsewhere, but to make a long story short—yes, we didn't need you in the way in a fit of remorseful hysteria as we found her," the man revealed as he dropped a huge file on the table then looked her straight in the eye, "Not to mention she told everyone before she was ever taken captive that if you were to ask about her no one was ever allowed to indulge you."

Fury left as soon as the words left him, and the redhead shakily reached for the thick files. Knots formed in the pit of her stomach the more she read, the papers were thorough, not a single bit of information was spared. Starting with your failed nuptials that led to you going on the honeymoon alone and being kidnapped.

Natasha left you in a vulnerable headspace, costing you six months of your life, she basically led Hydra right to you, and she felt sick to her stomach at the notion. Love isn't mean to cause pain, and yet that's all she's done to you; therefore your lost memories of her love was her burden to carry going forward.

——

It'd been a week since Natasha had been back, nobody would even spare her a glance, so she hid out on the unused floor of the compound. Until one morning when she was informed by Friday that the team had left the compound. Something about an impromptu mission that she was to sit out of due to her recent injury.

The same injury you heard about through the grapevine, and you honestly felt responsible. Had they let her come home on time she would have avoided her last forced sparring session. Then her torn calf wouldn't be on your conscience, and you wouldn't be watching the poor woman struggle to make her sandwich.

"Need some help?"

Natasha jumped, making the pain in her leg worse as it shot through her body and sent her tumbling backwards, but fortunately you were there to catch her, "Falling for me are we?"

Mentally you slapped yourself for saying that, her lip wobbled ever so slightly, most people would've missed it, but you never could. No matter what happened, you'd always be in tune with the woman who still held your heart captive after all this time and the heartbreak.

"I'm okay, thanks though," she politely declined, then with as much strength as she could muster she stood upright again, and shifted to face the counter to hide her tears.

"Natasha, I know what happened, Wanda told me," you told a partial truth, it was the witch that restored your memories months ago, but you wouldn't be letting Natasha know yet, if you were ever going to trust her again, she needed to prove to you she was really sorry.

"Oh," she whispered, the knife clattering on the counter drowning her voice out, "I'm sorry."

The tone of her voice wasn't something you'd grown used to, even after three years together she had yet to ever be this vulnerable with you.

"Hey, it's okay Nat, I'm sure you had a reason."

Natasha stilled when your hand settled on her lower back, she didn't deserve your sympathy.

"Y/N, please, you don't have to forgive me, if it wasn't for my cowardice you wouldn't be in the mess that you're in," Natasha shakily stated, her inability to reel her emotions in truly did shock you, and it was clear to you how broken up over the entire situation she is—as she should be, but it also pains you to see how she blames herself for what happened to you, even if the team agreed, you never once blamed her.

You've had a long time to think the whole situation over, and if you could go back in time you would, in a heartbeat. You'd have slowed down, caught on to her fight or flight response slowly building up and gave her the space she needed, hell you would've even postponed the wedding if she would have only asked. It was the secrets and blatant lying that did you in.

"That's the thing Natasha, I already did," you whispered as you pulled her in for a hug, one that you craved just as much as she did, but the desperation was only visualized from her end. Natasha clung to you like you were still her lifeline, because deep down you always will be.

"I'm sorry," you spoke, and she pulled away with a deep frown full of defiance, "No, you've got nothing to apologize for Y/N, not at all!"

"It's my fault you're hurt Natasha, they told me they wouldn't let you come home," your voice wavered with a concern she didn't expect, but nonetheless she appreciated, "and now that you're back you've being unfairly isolated."

"Hey, hey," Natasha cupped your cheeks when she saw you losing hold of your composure, an all too familiar intimacy that you leaned into within an instant, making the redheads heart flicker with a bit of hope, "They had every right to keep me away, and to keep their distance. I didn't just steal Thor's poptarts krasivaya, I broke your heart, and that's worthy of all this."

You chuckled, "Thor does love his poptarts."

"Yeah, and the team, me included, love you."

An awkward silence fell over the both of you as you remained connected in a loose embrace. Only to be broken when Natasha gazed at your lips with a hunger you recognized as futile. Though you wanted to kiss her just as bad, you couldn't let her back in just yet, so you gently let her go, and nudged her out of your way.

"Sit, I'll make you a proper lunch."

Natasha went to refute your offer, but the way you looked at her made her back down, and at the sound of her relieved sigh as she settled on the stool you smiled in triumph. Natasha never let you take care of her like this before, most of the time she'd glare at you for even insinuating she wasn't capable of doing so; she'd cook eggs on the stove while bleeding out just to prove a point. Literally, once Bruce had to stitch her up as she passive-aggressively fixed dinner.

This wasn't much, but it was a start, and you were hopeful this wasn't a temporary thing. That her injury isn't the reason she's allowing you in like this, and that it's who she became while she was away. It made you think, that maybe, just maybe, there was still hope for you.

—

The mission the team went on ended up turning into quite the doozy. What was meant to be an overnight became a three month long undercover mission. So in that time you were left to either your solitude or Nat's company.

For the first month she herself kept a bit of distance between the two of you. After she was so close to pouncing on you in the kitchen she felt it was the best option. It wasn't fair for her to look at you like you belonged to her, when you didn't even know who she was anymore outside of the rumors, and the harsh truths.

It wasn't until you purposefully set your alarm for four in the morning so you could corner her in the kitchen that she was given no choice but to spend time with you. Neither of you said much, you gently nodded to the mugs on the counter and she graciously accepted the offer.

"Thank you," she hummed, her distinct rasp you'd grown to love in the mornings much smoother as the warm drink coated her throat.

"Don't thank me yet, you have yet to try my omelette," You watched in amusement as the redhead's eyes widened and her head instinctively shook in the negatory. "Um, I'm not hungry, but thank you, really it's kind."

You deadpanned, "Your stomach growled."

Natasha sighed in defeat, begrudgingly she accepted the extended plate, tentatively she cut off an edge, then she moaned at the flavor.

"No fucking way, Y/N, that's delicious!"

"You seem shocked," you gasped with a hand on your chest in feigned offense.

"It's just, my Y/N couldn't even crack an egg."

It's true, Natasha used to do all the cooking after she rescued you from Hydra the first time, but in her absence you had to learn.

"Well consider me the superior Y/N then."

You watched regretfully as your words struck the redhead far deeper than you'd intended.

"Natasha, I—," she cut you off with a warm, albeit hurt smile, "I'm actually in a rush, I have physical therapy today, I'll catch you later."

As the redhead ran away, again, you found your heart was aching at the distance you just reaffirmed with your careless attempt to joke. It wasn't a lie, ever since your failed attempt to wed you were forced to become a more well rounded person, but that didn't need to be a new point of guilt for the redhead to bare.

You finished off her omelette, then retreated back to your room, you'd try again tomorrow.

—

The following day you saw Natasha on the couch, her injured leg was on an ottoman, while the other was curled beneath her as she read a book: Girl in Pieces, it was one you got her for her birthday when she mentioned she needed more to read, it was also your not so subtle way of trying to get her to see your pain.

It warmed your heart to see her actually read it, but really what caught your eye was the hoodie she wore as she flipped the pages. The light grey that swallowed the petite woman was one of yours, it was rather new actually, and even if you were meant to be upset that she stole from a Y/N who didn't know her, you just weren't.

Knowing that on some level she still needed you kept that burning hope that never died alive. Natasha always looked beautiful wearing your clothes, whether it be your hoodie with sweats or an oversized tee paired with her lacy panties. There was nothing she couldn't pull off, but in most scenarios you did, discarding the fabrics on your bedroom floor to feel her.

It was easy to admire her really, the way the sun filled the nearly empty room and reflected off of her was nothing short of angelic. She wore a pensive expression, brows furrowed with lips pursed, and eyes focused as if the words were inspiring her to think critically.

"So, why is it you're not on the mission?"

Natasha giggled when you jumped, of course she knew you were there, she slipped her bookmark between the crisp pages, then gave all of her attention to you with a soft smile.

"Um, I am not exactly cleared to go out yet," you quietly replied as you sat on the couch across from hers, "Not since I got powers."

Natasha's face fell when your hand raised to show the materialization of blue sparks, you were never supposed to be in this situation. Natasha remembers the day she saved you from the fate you eventually still endured.

You'd been so scared when she stumbled upon you in a high tech cage with glass for walls. Hydra had only had you for a few weeks, it was enough time to start their trials, but they only succeeded in altering your physical strength. Now though, they'd given you the powers you never wanted, and now she wanted to cry.

"Oh Y/N," she couldn't bare to see you like this, knowing it was her fault only made it worse. The guilt swimming behind her eyes made you frown just the same, "It's not your fault Nat."

"It kinda is," she replies instantly, "If I wasn't a coward, had I not ran, you would've never been alone for them to take. We'd be truly happy, but more importantly you would be safe."

"Why did you?" Natasha's frown only deepened as you asked the looming question, "Why run?"

"I-It wasn't exactly a choice," she starts, her hands reflexively clenched, before she tightly clasped them together, "It was fight or flight."

The vague answer she gave honestly upset you, you know she was scared, but for her to have such a fearful biological response to you hurt.

"What did I do wrong?"

Natasha shook her head, her brimming tears falling as she did, "Nothing, you were perfect."

"I don't understand."

Natasha's knuckles cracked as she reflexively tightened her grasp, the idea of being this honest scared her, but you also deserved to know, even if you weren't truly you anymore.

"I'm not a good person Y/N," now it was your turn to clench your fists, this undeserved self loathing mantra of hers always infuriated you.

"That's simply not true Natasha, we've all made choices we weren't proud of, I know you're not a bad person, my heart knows that much."

"I broke that heart, it should despise me."

"Well it doesn't, so stop willing it to."

"Why?" her voice cracked, she looked unsure of what she was asking, but she asked anyway.

"I'm destined to love you, I don't have it in me to hate you Natasha, trust me, I already tried."

A wave of clarity washed over her, there was a storm behind her green eyes, and the way you could see her heart breaking devastated you.

"Natasha—"

"I can't believe you lied to me like this..."

Even with an injured leg she was still able to evade your grasp, and escape on the elevator.

"You left me at the altar, but I'm the bad guy?" You huffed to yourself like a petulant child, and stormed off to your room via the many stairs.

—

A loud knock on your door woke you up, you groaned, all you wanted to do after earlier's fight was sleep the rest of the day away, but it appears the redhead wasn't done berating you.

With a scowl to rival her expected one you opened the door, but all you found was a box with your name on it signed from Natasha.

"I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me for earlier's blow out, you've got every right not to, but I hope you do understand I felt blindsided. If you don't, I hold no grudges, and I promise I will leave the compound as soon as possible so you can be comfortable. But if you do, please meet me in the training room at 8."

With the note read you untied the ribbon, then you opened the box to find a customized suit, it was primarily black, but there were these gorgeous waves of varying shades of blue going down the sides of the breathable latex material.

A soft smile graced your face as you ran your hands over the piece, it made you feel special, but more importantly it gave you a feeling of belonging again. For months now they've been too afraid to utilize you in combat, they were worried about the unknown capabilities of course, but you also knew they just didn't want to put you in danger, but that wasn't exactly their choice to keep making. Nat understood.

After less than a minute deliberating you were slipping into the suit you know she spent the last few hours making in Tony's lab for you. Then you made your way down to the gym just in time to find her perching herself atop of a miniature board in a carnival-esque dunk tank.

"Natasha, what is all of this?"

"Well, I see that you are either hesitant to use your powers, or the team is benching you, and in either scenario I want to help you undo it."

"You're injured, are you sure this is safe?"

Natasha rolled her eyes, "Y/N, it is a tiny pool of water, what could you possibly do to me?"

"I could drown you."

"Don't threaten me with a good time," she winked and smirked at you in that dopey way that usually has you crumbling to your knees.

Now it was you rolling your eyes, "Romanoff, what am I even expected to do with this?"

"Whatever your heart desires Y/N: use the water beneath me to pull me in, freeze the water as it exits your hands and throw the ice blocks at the target, or use a water stream."

All was going well, before you began to dunk Natasha in the tank you focused more on your breathing, and the overall serenity one needs to feel to remain under control. Once you felt at peace, something you knew deep down came when Natasha smiled at you, and encouraged you with praises, you began to formulate tiny balls of water, then you upped the ante and focused on chilling them until you had ice.

However, after you dunked her for the tenth time you could see something was wrong, she stayed under the water longer than normal, and judging by the influx of bubbles you knew she was screaming in pain. Something she felt she needed to keep from you as she rose out of the water with a tight lipped smile as she reset the seat and clambered back on with a struggle.

“Timeout,” you shouted while running over to the redhead who was failing to hide her pain, which meant it was likely a drastic feeling.

"Oh come on Y/N, we were just getting warmed up," the redhead frowned, "Or cooled down?"

“Nat, I saw you screaming in pain,” you admit, but she shrugged, “What is life if not painful?”

“I’m fine,” she tried again, but the truth was she was the furthest thing from it, but she didn’t want to present as incapable, or or weak, and she just didn’t want to let you down again.

"Natasha, please just be honest with me," you sighed, hand falling over hers as it sits over her calf, "If we're going to fix us, you have to be."

Natasha met your worried gaze with a tearful one of her very own, "W-we can fix this?"

It shocked you to see her so unsure, telling you that she was helping you without expectations. Letting you train with her because she knew you better than anyone else, and she knew you were scared of what you have become. It was endearing, and reminded you of the Natasha that you fell in love with all those years ago.

"It won't be the way it was overnight Natasha, but if you're here, as in no more running when scared, and you're honest, we can get us back."

"Okay," she timidly whispered with a nod, followed up by a shaky exhale, "The therapist said I need surgery, but I'm terrified Y/N/N."

"Oh love," you lifted her hand up to your lips to deposit a gentle kiss, "I am so sorry it's not getting better on its own, I know you hate the hospital, and being put under even more so."

"I can't do it, I don't want to—I won't."

You gently lifted her off the platform of the dunk tank so you could hold her in your arms, "Yes you will baby, because you are one of the strongest people I've ever known, and if it'll help you, I'll be right there the whole time."

"Really?" her hands gripped you over the suit in an attempt to garner a semblance of reason, and you smiled at the way she used you to ground herself like this, "Of course, you're not ever going to be alone if you don't want to be."

"Never again," she whispered the promise, "This is where I want to be for the rest of time."

"Funny," you smirked down at her, your right hand cupped her cheek, "I was thinking the same thing," you pulled her in for a kiss, her parted lips swallowed your sudden giggle as she eagerly moved to deepen the reunion kiss.

"However, the bed might be more comfortable, what do you think?" Natasha whimpered hotly as you bit into her lower lip, "Please detka..."

—

“I told you it’d work,” Tony boasts, and the little witch rolls her eyes while filling her duffle bag up with a discernible quickness, “No, you said ‘why does it matter’ and ‘this isn’t my problem’ when Clint and I suggested this.”

“Well, initially, yeah, but I changed my tune.”

“Yeah, like five minutes ago when Natasha fell into the water with a cry and Y/N ran to her,” Steve bemoaned while starting up the jet so they could ‘return a month and a half early because they were just so incredibly efficient.’

———

4,572 Words

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader #gxg #black widow imagine #black widow x reader

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moorishflower · 1 year

Note

That long lost!Addams ficlet is a delight. You KNOW Gomez would be so absurdly proud if his new great x100 uncle then managed to bag an actual eldritch terror as a partner. Wouldn't even miss a beat.

"Hob Gadling," Dream says, and Hob makes a frankly embarrassing sound -- not a shriek, nothing like that, but maybe a startled yelp -- and jerks off the side of the bed and onto the floor. Dust from beneath the bed settles immediately in his hair, and the floorboards creak alarmingly under his weight, but, after a tense and breathless moment, nothing happens. Hob exhales, and finds himself looking up between Dream's long and slender legs. He's wearing skinny jeans, Hob notes, and he can't resist the urge to grab hold of both of Dream's calves, just above the ankle, and Christ, but he's so skinny Hob can nearly get his fingers to touch.

Dream only raises an eyebrow at him. "Why do you keep the company of witches?" he asks, and Hob strokes up the length of his legs, as high as he can reach, humming softly. His heart is still hammering with excess adrenaline, and he's got to channel it somewhere. Lust for his lover (partner? boyfriend? they haven't really discussed --) is as good a cause as any.

"Hello," he says, attempting to maintain some manner of social nicety. "Good to see you, darling, how's your day been, mine's been fine --"

"Hob."

"-- I only learned that I've apparently got relatives, still," he finishes, and Dream's other eyebrow joins the first. Hob uses Dream's ankles to hoist himself further from the edge of the bed, and then picks himself up gingerly, brushing dust from his hair, his shoulders. It falls down from him in a grey cloud, and he's not able to suppress a sneeze before he says, "Loads of them. From my mam's side of the family. Apparently she had a sister."

"And you decided to visit."

"There were extenuating circumstances," Hob says, thinking of the diary, the bidding war, Gomez's unflappable enthusiasm for the esoteric. "But yes. What's this about witches?"

"Many of your relatives are. Though this explains, somewhat. How swiftly and easily you took to immortality."

Witches are real? sits on the tip of his tongue, and Hob only narrowly swallows it back. "Am I a witch?" he asks, half-fearing the answer. It'd make his drowning in the 1600s a lot less poignant, maybe. If he's been a witch this whole bloody time, if 'witch' is a thing that's somehow separate and distinct from human...

"No," Dream says, and all the tension leaves Hob's shoulders at once. He sits back down on the bed with a shuddering sigh. It's a nice bed, a four-poster with a canopy, and Gomez and Morticia had reassured him that this room did not contain anything that lived under the mattress. The sheets are heavy velvet, in deference to the cold Chicago winter, and yesterday morning he'd woken up to the sight of Wednesday Addams standing over his bed with a morningstar in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other. She had been contemplating the best way to wake him: by cutting his hair (he'd needed to explain to her that it would take time to grow back), or by caving his chest in (requiring a totally different, but no less important, conversation of its own).

"Good," he says, and Dream makes a low, thrumming noise, and straddles Hob's lap.

"You did not tell me where you were going," he murmurs, and strokes his thumbs down Hob's cheeks, catches his nail on Hob's bottom lip and pulls it down slightly to expose his teeth. "I felt you, still. In the Dreaming. But The New Inn was bereft of you."

"I didn't realize I was coming here until the second I did it," Hob admits, and Dream seems to take this in stride. "Besides. I've got no way to contact you. I sort of hoped you'd just...feel where I was."

"I did. I do. And yet. To hear it from your lips would also be...pleasing."

"You're allowed to say you're miffed, love," Hob says, and lays his hands in the cup of Dream's hips. Thin and bony and his. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you where I was going. Maybe we can figure out some way we can talk not through the Dreaming, in future. Dunno if you get cell service there."

He means it as a joke, but Dream tilts his head to the side, considering. His thumb sweeps up from Hob's lip, touches just below his eye, the firm bone of the orbit.

"I will consider it," he says, and then bends down and gently covers Hob's mouth with his own. His lips are soft, and Dream always runs closer to lukewarm than he does body temperature, but now Hob gasps because Dream's mouth, when it opens against him, is chilled. Sweet and cool as wintermint, and his tongue licking at Hob's lips is like a round of ice that thaws and melts and slowly slips inside, until Hob can drink him the way he would snowmelt, held in the cupped chalice of his tongue --

"Dios mío," comes a familiar voice at the door, and Hob frantically pulls his hands from where they had been inching over Dream's arse, and then just as frantically tries to rearrange himself so that his erection isn't immediately visible. He's not sure how he manages this last, since he feels hard enough that it could be seen from space, but if that's the cross he must bear, then so be it.

Dream, as always, is utterly unflappable, and turns to the bedroom door looking every inch a king; he's wild-haired, Hob realizes, and the skinny jeans aren't so much gone as they are flickering, like a projector caught between two slides, flipping back and forth between Dream's usual peacoat and jeans, and what Hob's become used to seeing him wear in the Dreaming, what he thinks of as Dream's robe of office, flowing like ink, black as the starless sky.

Gomez, standing in the doorway, looks between Dream and Hob, and then a wide and cheery grin nearly splits his face in half.

"Mi querido niño! You did not tell me you had a paramour! And who is this enchanting creature? Gomez Addams, my friend, at your service!"

Dream blinks slowly, and Gomez, to his credit, does not come forward with a proffered hand or, thank God, a hug. Only beams at Dream from the doorway, until Hob's increasingly eldritch lover breaks the silence at last.

"I am called Morpheus," he says, "Lord of Dreams and King of Nightmares. Shaper of Form and Prince of Stories." He inclines his head slightly, and Gomez looks as though he might faint with delight. "And lover of Hob Gadling."

"You did not tell me you were royalty," Gomez says. He strides into the bedroom, and thankfully it's Hob he's bound for, Hob's hand that he grabs. "Royalty! Why, the Addams haven't hosted a king since good old Henry!"

"Which Henry?" Hob gets out, as he's forcibly removed from the bed and dragged, almost bodily, towards the door. Gomez is strong. He keeps forgetting.

"It doesn't matter! They're all quite dead. But yours isn't! Come, my liege! Allow me to escort you and your Prince Consort on a promenade of the grounds! Have you ever been to America before, sir?"

"I am a representation of all sleeping minds, and of the dreaming subconscious of all living things," Dream says, sweeping behind them, stately and imposing. "So. Yes."

"Oh, splendid! That means I don't have to explain baseball."

"What is happening," Hob whispers, as he's manhandled out into the hall. His mind is caught somewhere on prince consort and doesn't quite want to let go of it, but he feels like that's a conversation he ought to have with Dream in private.

And Dream looks at him, smirking faintly, his starlit eyes flicking from Hob's mussed hair to his kiss-pinked lips, and down to the way that Gomez so effortlessly steers him by the shoulder out into the manor proper.

"Family," Dream says, and reaches out, and laces his fingers with Hob's.

#hob gadling family values #my fic #ask response #the addams family #the sandman #hob gadling #dream of the endless #dreamling #gomez addams

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manic-nova · 1 year

Text

Caught: A Thoma Lemon

Continuation of Where's My Hug?

Summary: Thoma's always put on this perfectly innocent facade, but what happens when the truth finally comes out about his perverted tendencies when it comes to you.

Characters: Thoma, Fem!Reader

TW's: Pervert Thoma, AFAB! Reader, masturbation +being caught (Thoma), voyeurism?, dubcon, mentions of sexual harassment, groping, and PDA.

Thoma had been so so careful with you up until then. Containing himself around you, your perfect body, your adorably innocent personality was certainly not an easy task, but he got by with brief and inconspicuous touches and hearing you whine out his name in response. You were so perfectly oblivious. That he was certain of, yet lately it had felt like you were testing him, teasing him, trying to push him over the edge. He had become so good at waiting, though. Despite the way that lingering overwhelming urge to ruin you would creep in the back of his mind every time he wrapped his arms around you, he could always save it for when you were out of sight. He could resist the need to satisfy the urges you weren't ready to help him with. The moment had to be right. You were too pure. He could only strip you of your innocence once. He had to wait.

After a couple months of getting very familiar with Thoma, you'd come to accept his nature, and the excess physical touch didn't make you nearly as nervous as it used to. In fact, after a while you began openly inviting it, initiating it too. It was his love language, after all, a certified way of knowing that Thoma cared deeply about you, and who were you to deny Thoma the right to express his feelings? Besides, he was so warm and inviting. You could melt into his frame like butter if you wanted to, but he couldn't know you wanted to. No, that would make you seem desperate, and you weren't desperate, right? It's sort of a question you'd been asking yourself recently. Thoma wasn't treating you like he used to. He was hesitant, withholding, almost like you were to him when you two first met. Thoma had never been shy or nervous. Why now? What changed? I guess you could say you'd been letting it get under your skin just a little. You just hadn't quite realized how reliant you had become of him, how his touch had become your fulfillment, so if he wasn't going to take initiative and wrap his arms around you so tightly like the old days, you would.

Thoma's little charade was basically history the second you walked into Kamisato Estate in that stupidly tight dress. You were the life of the party, and you didn't have to say a word. The dress and its perfectly placed ruching, how it hugged your curves and drew the eye up and down your figure. The second you and Thoma saw each other, you walked straight up to him with the most innocent gleaming smile on your face and wrapped your arms around his torso, doe eyes looking up at him that he failed to catch and the perfectly clear view of the imprint of your ass that had the blood rushing to his cock in seconds... What else could he do but pull away and stammer off down a dark hallway? He was losing his mind, and had you held him a second longer you would've known exactly what kind of dirty pervert he was, and he couldn't have that.

His rushing out like that was only adding to the confusion you felt, and frustration was quick to join and combine with that confusion. You wanted answers, so you followed after him, but he knew the place obviously way better than you did. There were like a million rooms in the place! It's like you lost him the second he left, but no way were you letting him off that easily. Opening doors in a house that's not yours isn't exactly polite, but you weren't exactly in the mood for politeness, so you swung the doors open as you pleased knowing well if they were left open it'd be on Thoma's shoulders.

You had been looking for a while when you finally started to hear his voice. He sounded a little distressed, you thought. You weren't entirely sure. The walls of the place were muting the sound, so you couldn't make anything out, but you figured it was best to drop the "walk in like you own the place method" and opt for quietly poking your head in instead. You cracked the door open and slid into the room inconspicuously. It was dark, so when you saw Thoma's figure hunched over in the corner, you had a hard time making out what he was doing, but he was breathing heavily, groaning as his hands messed around with something you couldn't quite identify. The whole thing was a mystery to you until you heard your name breathily leave his lips.

"Fuck, Y/N... why'd you have to wear that stupid dress?"

Suddenly, things were starting to make a lot more sense after that. Part of you wanted to walk away, knowing well that it was all kinds of wrong for you to be listening in on this, and watching too, but he was moaning your name. The sounds of his whiny voice calling out your name, sandwiched in between an array of curses and declarations that you shouldn't have worn that dress for anyone but him... you felt like you were flying and you didn't know why, and you couldn't possibly explain the burning you felt deep down inside of you. You just couldn't help yourself.

*creak*

A draft had flooded through the hallway and made the cracked door behind you swivel open, and Thoma spun around in a panic, hands immediately reaching down to cover his erect cock when he saw you. You were panicking as well, trying to evade your eyes and feign a since of decency like you hadn't been watching him touch himself for the last 2 minutes.

"Wha-what are you doing?!" Thoma exasperated as he pulled his waistband up to his stomach, his cock still shamefully pressing up against the fabric.

"Thoma! I just- I was looking for you, and uh... I found you. Haha."

Thoma was shaking his head ferociously, trying to avoid your gaze under the shame he felt, but in doing so he found his eyes trailing down your body, the sight of your thighs pressing together sending a throbbing sensation down to his erection, and he muffled a whimpering moan by pressing a hand across his face. He turned his whole body back toward the corner, ready to bury himself in it if he got the chance. "H-how much did you see?" He asked hesitantly.

You grew silent at the question, but the silence spoke volumes, and Thoma dropped his head onto the wall's surface. You saw everything, he thought. You know everything, and if you bothered to ever talk to him again it would be nothing short of a miracle.

"I- I just wanted to know why you walked away like that," you told Thoma.

He let out a deep sigh. "Well, I guess you found your answer," he said. "You probably hate me for it. I never wanted you to see me like this."

"I could never hate you, Thoma. I just- well, you've been acting different-"

"So have you," he answered back. "You've really found yourself now, haven't you? Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for you, I'm just not used to this new you, you know... the confidence, the shiny lip gloss, and the tight dresses-"

"Right, because only you should get to see me like that, I know."

"Just how long were you standing ther- You know what? It doesn't matter, because as you can probably tell by now, if the roles were reversed, I- I don't think I could possibly look away," he rambled, his stressed hand sliding down his face. "I'm sorry. I should probably just go," he said, making a push for the door with his head down.

Part of you knew that you should've just let him leave, that you needed some time apart from him to think rationally about the situation, but your heart was beating so fast you couldn't bring yourself to just let him go, so you wrapped your hand around his wrist before he could. “Stay,” you told him. “Please don’t leave me again.”

There was a shaky breath that escaped Thoma, his eyes still glued to the door. "I'm so sorry for being so distant, I really am, but Y/N this humiliating, so if you could just let me leave-"

"No, Thoma!" you retorted, gripping his wrist in your little fingers tighter.

"I... don't understand," Thoma perplexed. "Does this not disgust you? How do you not hate me right now?"

"I told you, I could never hate you-"

"But you're not bothered by this in the least?" He questioned further.

You hesitated for a moment, knowing well he had a point. Being grossed out by him would totally be the rational thought, but you couldn't think of much else than the accelerated beating of your heart, the desperate longing you'd been feeling lately for Thoma, how you'd driven yourself crazy looking for the answer to why he was so strangely withholding. You should've been disgusted by the answer you found, but instead, there was a sort of catharsis you felt, because you thought he hated you. In comparison, this was a relief, a compliment even. "I mean... it's a little embarrassing, maybe, but so are a lot of the things you do to me, and I don't mind all that so much."

With that seemingly harmless confession, a switch seemed to flip in Thoma. His eyes wandered back over to you curiously. “What do you mean you don’t mind?” He questioned, a teasing undertone slipping through his delivery.

“I- I just mean that you’re my friend, and you said that you express yourself physically-“ you stammered are his shift in demeanor.

“Y/N, I asked about you, not me. I embarrass you, but you don’t mind. That’s what you said, right?”

“…yeah, why?” You nervously answered back, removing your hand from his wrist in passing.

Thoma's head tilted in an almost teasing way, like you should know the answer to your own question. He seemed to hesitate with his next point but took a deep breath "Fuck it," he muttered. "Do you... like it when I touch you?"

You felt your chest tighten around your shy heart when he said that. "Like it? Haha, what kind of question is that?"

"A very straightforward one," he chuckled, his usual adoring smile returning with a hint of teasing. "Come on. You're a terrible liar, and it's just me and you, so you can be honest," he encouraged you with anticipation in his eyes.

You suddenly became nervous at the notion, at the intent curiosity Thoma had written all over him. You honestly hadn't thought about that way before. You'd just accepted it for what it was, but the way Thoma looked down on you with his arms folded across his chest and a smug smile across his face, it reminded you that it didn't matter how much he embarrassed you, he always made your heart flutter, and maybe it was the way he embarrassed you that made you that way too. He was right, too. You couldn't lie to him.

"I- I don't know. I mean, you give warm hugs, and your hands-" you stopped. His hands? What were you even saying?! "You know what? This is a stupid question. Why does it even matter?" You objected.

"Y/N..." He sighed dreamily, eyes heavy in lust. "What about my hands?" Thoma asked in a feigned innocence, almost as if he was mocking you.

You looked up at him and felt yourself shrivel under his gaze. This was too much for you, you thought. You should be grilling him with questions in the state you found him, but you were too kind. All you could bring yourself to do was to turn away so you couldn't see that sly look on his face.

"Oh, Y/N, I didn't mean to make you shy..." he cooed, his voice drawing closer. You felt his hands wrapped around your waist and dip down to your hips. He leaned down so his lips nearly grazed against your ear, making you shudder. "You don't just like it when I touch you. Oh no, you love it, don't you?"

Every logical thought you had left was telling you to pull away, and yet you felt trapped- no, entranced was more accurate, absolutely captivated by the way his hands fanned across the front of your thighs and then swam back to wrap around your stomach. Your breaths were heavy, weighted nervously and leaving you quicker than before. This was the place you tried desperately to avoid being, you thought. He was literally wrapped around you, hands exploring you like it was his god-given right, and you couldn't leave because you were wrapped around him in every sense but literal. You always melted into his touch, but he always pulled away before you could become encased by him.

"Do you want to know a secret, Y/N?" Thoma asked, pulling your body ever closer to his so you could feel him, feel his arousal as he pulled one hand up to grab at your chest and the other down to slide between your thighs.

You felt yourself begin to lean into his transgressions, intoxicated by his warmth. "What, Thoma?" You asked in a breathy whisper.

He let off a breath of anticipation against your neck, sending shivers down your body, and smiled. "I like touching you way more than touching myself," he said.

You swore you saw stars when he said that like it was a dream come true for something you didn't even know you dreamt about. You brought one of your hands up to the back of Thoma's neck, pulling him into yours. His lips cascaded over the skin under your ears and you intertwined your fingers in his hair in response. It wasn't long before he was pulled at the edge of your dress, catching glimpses of you guiding his hand down to your panties. Pink panties, he noticed. Lacy pink panties with little butterflies embroidered across the waistband. Even your underwear was just so adorable to him.

"Were you thinking about me... when you put on this dress, this lingerie?" he cooed between kisses.

"Maybe I was. So what?" you told him, little care for shame left in you.

He chuckled lowly. "You're so cute, trying to act like you're not still nervous," he teased. "Your legs are shaking."

"They're shaking because you keep leaving me in anticipation!" You growled, which shocked him quite a bit. You sighed. "Just touch me already. You've made me wait long enough."

"Yes ma'am," he answered, pushing your panties to the side so he could rub two fingers up and down your slit, lapping up the juices for smoother movements. He drew himself back up to your clit and pressed down on it, rubbing against your sweet spot in tantalizing circular motions that made your mouth gape and moan.

He pulled the top of your dress down too until your tits hung off the elastic so he could pull on them and play with your nipples with his free hand, rubbing against the nubs in a way that stimulated you more than the cool breeze already was against your sensitive areas. Your breaths were so quick but heavy there was no way you could try and control the excessive whining moans that continued to escape your lips, a combination of arousal and embarrassment that left you crying out to Thoma, something he found completely enamoring.

"What was it you were saying about my hands?" He asked again. "Could it be something like: oh, Thoma. When you touch me my brain goes numb and I can't think straight. Ya, that sounds about right, doesn't it."

"Ya, something like that," you conceded. "Mock me all you want, you've wanted this way more than I have."

"You know, up until about 10 minutes ago I would've agreed, but now... I'm not so sure."

"You talk too much," you shot him down.

He took your words as a challenge, dipping his fingers down so he could press into you, eliciting a needy whimper from you. "This better?" he asked as he began plunging his fingers in and out of you.

You nodded, thoughts and words completely escaping you. Pleasure was the only thing on your mind, pleasure and Thoma.

He was pushing for a climax for you. He wanted that moment of victory when he saw you cum in spurts onto his fingers in only a couple of minutes. He wanted that validation so bad that it was making his cock strain painfully as it pushed into the plush fat of your ass. The sight of you slicking up his fingers and contorting under him made him impossibly harder and made it impossibly harder to control himself. You were perfect, he thought. He was doing everything he ever dreamed of doing to you, violating you completely, and you liked it. That alone drove him endlessly wild, until he couldn't stop thinking that his fingers weren't enough. No, he needed you to cum on his cock and suck it dry the way your walls were wrapping desperately around his fingers. He couldn't wait any longer for that. He removed his hand from your hole, and you whined at him.

"Hands against the wall," Thoma told you, taking your panties and pulling them down to your ankles, catching a quick glimpse of your dripping wet pussy on the way back up.

"Thoma... why would you-"

"Put your hands. Against the wall," he urged you, growing impatient.

You grew silent turning to look at him for a brief moment to see just how serious he was, and he was.

It was taking everything in him not to press you up against that wall himself, but he waited for you to see how he wasn't kidding, "I'm going to fuck you until my cock is covered in your cum and until I've filled your insides with mine. Understand?"

You nodded both nervously but also excitedly, and no matter how hard you tried to hide it he knew. He knew because you had both hands pressed against the wall but your eyes were turned back on him, watching as he pulled his erect cock back out from his waistband, pumped it a couple times so he could release a bit of precum, then he lined it up against your soaking hole. As soon as you felt the head go in your head immediately snapped back toward the wall, and you cried out in pure ecstasy. Thoma's cock felt so good, better by the second as he let himself sink into you, and he too moaned out in satisfaction as your fluttering walls hugged his cock so welcomingly. You felt him hit the g-spot the first time and fireworks went off in your head. Your whole body felt it. His hands slithered back up your torso, now free to grab at your breasts and play with them like little toys as he slowly pulled himself out so he could fuck you slow and hard. Every thrust was harder than the last as he shoved his cock while pulling you onto it simultaneously. He wanted you to feel him inside you with explicit detail, every curve he rubbed against, every little sensation that made your whole body tingle. He wanted to fuck you in a way that made you remember every move he made, and you knew he was achieving that goal easily. You whimpered with every movement, begging him to keep going without saying any actual discernible words. He knew what you meant. It's why he kept pushing you until you felt that knot building in your stomach come painfully close to snapping.

Then there was a voice down the hall.

"Thoma. Thoma, where did you run off to? You're missing the party. The messes are starting to pile up!" He called out, a voice much calmer than the man pistoning into you that you could recognize anywhere. You turned to Thoma to urge him to stop but he kept going, kept plunging into you even as the voice drew closer.

"What's wrong? Don't want Lord Kamisato to catch you with my cock inside of you?" he teased.

"You-you're evil..." you answered weakly as you tried to stifle your moans.

"Thoma, where the hell did you go? And that friend of yours too, I haven't seen her either-" Ayato called out, his voice echoing into the room.

"He's getting closer... better hush up now or he might walk in on us. Unless, you like being seen in such a compromising state. After all, you've never stopped me from touching you in public before."

"Shut up, Thoma-" you went to chastise him, but you nearly gasped as he began to pick up his pace. He grabbed at your waist and began to ram into you much faster than before, which made your insides impossibly tight. You took your hands off the wall so you could cover your mouth and muffle the loud moans that kept trying to escape you and Thoma used it as an opportunity to turn you proudly toward the door, the door you failed to shut.

"There's been a breeze, tonight, remember?" Thoma teased further against your ear, fucking you at a steadily fast rhythm. "I can see him just down the hall. What will he think if the door just- flies open and he catches us like this?"

You moaned into your hands louder than intended, knowing Thoma would take that as confirmation that you were fantasizing about the extra attention, but really you were just close, really close.

Ayato began to approach the door and you were trying not to think about that door flinging open and the light draping onto you, but all you could really think about was how you were about to cum.

"Is your friend okay, Thoma? Does she need something I could perhaps help with?" Ayato asked into the supposed emptiness.

"I don't know," Thoma whispered. "Is there something the master can help us with?"

You nodded your head no ferociously, a near panic as you felt your climax begin to set on without your permission. Thoma's pace began to grow erratic as your walls fluttered around him and milky cream poured all over his cock. You thanked your lucky stars when Ayato passed the door without a clue and went passed your room. Thoma couldn't hold himself much longer either, and your warm cum spilling all around him had him spurting thick globs into your sensitive hole. He pressed his mouth into your neck to stifle the moans escaping him. He unfolded into a total mess as he reached his release, any sense of composure evading him as he rode down his high. An array of exhausted pants were traded between you as you both caught your breaths.

Thoma soon removed himself from you and went to the dresser by the window to pull out a couple towels. You leaned your back against the wall, unable to do much else. Thoma took the liberty of kneeling in front of you and gliding the towel across your legs after cleaning himself up. You didn't contest to his efforts. Still, you had a bit of a bone to pick with him.

"That was some stunt you pulled," you chastised him. "What were you planning to do if he actually caught us?"

Thoma chuckled, putting the towel to the side so he could stand back up and talk to you. "Exactly what I said I'd do. I'd have invited him to join us. What? It could've been fun."

"Lord Kamisato is about the least spontaneous person I can think of, and he's your boss-"

"He's also a good friend of mine, and for all the time I've known him the one thing he's always done well is surprise people," Thoma explained.

You sighed. "Ayato doesn't want anything to do with me."

"You wanna bet on that?"

A/N: uhhh, hey guys! I know it's been a while and this is very random but hey, I updated the one thing no one was asking for lmao. Happy new year!

#thoma x reader #thoma smut #thoma genshin impact #thoma genshin #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact thoma #lemon

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throwaway-yandere · 4 months

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hello, hello! i wanted to drop by to say that your kaveh + dr ratio fic was amazing. i only finished reading it just now, so excuse me if i sound like i consumed excessive sugar but anyway— i adore the way you played around with the concept of "expy"!! at the start of the fic, i already know that something was gonna tie both ratio and kaveh together (although i don't think we were made aware of ratio's intentions at first besides hints here and there??) but man, reading it till the end filled me with catharsis. it felt so good, everything was so neatly tied and weaved together. you did such a marvelous job. also, one of my favorite parts about the fic were the flashbacks veritas had about him and his (y/n). i think those were crucial in giving us a solidified view about the relationship between them and not to mention, the little 'lie' he did. ANDDD OH OH i loved the way you wrote kaveh's dialogue when he first saw his delam awake. something about how he stuttered/mumbled (?) in such relief made me feel like i could feel his relief myself. this may be because you introduced his despair over our loss so well somewhere in the beginning, so thank you for that!!! or really, thank you for writing this delicious fic in general.

anywho, i think i've said far too much on here but i just had to— wishing you a good day/evening! AND SORRY FOR THE RAMBLE.

[From this Yandere!Kaveh &/vs Yandere!Dr. Ratio x Reader]

Kaveh: What lie were they talking about?

Veritas: Nothing. Do not mind them.

Kaveh: If it's pertaining to (Y/n), I find that request difficult to follow.

[Author's notes utc]

Aight my turn to speak now HAJDJAIDIIW— DW DW I LOVE IT A LOT WHEN PEOPLE RAMBLE ABT MY FICS AAAHHHHHH TY TY TY!!!!!

Yeah it was meant not to be explicitly stated in the beginning what Ratio was up to (≡^∇^≡)!!! I just thought it'd be a nice "plot twist" when it's revealed Veritas also has a (Y/n) [although it's prolly obvs it was leading up to that haha].

His lie is actually pretty solid too. No one can deny or verify those claims. Not when he did leave those notes on (Y/n)'s computer [those quick little "Good morning, I love you. — R." messages he put in by hacking lol]. Not when he can say they were hiding their relationship. Doesn't help that his (L/n)'s colleagues can provide testimonies that they did use to be close enough to exchange jackets.

If Kaveh found out it's a lie there's no way in hell he'd allow Veritas to share you.

Speaking of our boy, Kaveh's parts are fun to write too. He nearly made me make the fic more sadder but my goal for these next fics is to be more lighthearted with a "willing"/compliant darling 😭😭😭 I love our boy very much. He doesn't have any will to go on but now he has something to get excited about and wake up for with you being here.

Aight I'll shut up now HAJSJAIISOQKA Ty ty ty (≧∇≦)/!!!!!

#ansy-stalks #yandere kaveh #yandere kaveh x reader #yandere dr ratio x reader #yandere dr ratio

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bigfan-fanfic · 5 months

Text

Settling Down (Peter Parker x Percy Jackson x Dick Grayson x Reader)

Requested by @jayfeather965 for Short fic request! Moving to the Pokémon world with Dick, Peter, and Percy?

A slight modification in that we're assuming they're already in the Pokemon world, and helping you choose your first Pokemon/general headcanons about them with Pokemon. Dick has a Lucario that he taught Acrobatics. Peter has a Pikachu that knows Electroweb. And Percy has a Dewott.

With the three loves of your life being lifelong Pokemon trainers, it may be surprising to some that you have never had one.

But you've never had the time, or the room, or inclination.

But with two vigilantes and a demigod as your partners, now you have all three.

Your apartment, a floor-through space, though technically Dick owns the whole building, is Pokemon friendly and accommodating. Percy uses the water room for training along with his Dewott, which is way more disciplined than he is - though sometimes they train with Dick and his Lucario in the gym area. There's a lab for Peter's experiments where his Pikachu helps expend its excess energy by producing the electricity for his machines when not utilizing the solar power grid.

But, since it's a chill day before you've asked your partners to help you actually find a Pokemon, you decide to see if they have any final advice.

Peter and Pikachu

Peter got his Pokemon the conventional way, from a Pokemon Professor.

He was a shy kid, and his Pikachu helped him come out of his shell, so to speak, mainly because it was so outgoing.

And quick to electrocute his bullies.

Getting his superpowers was, pun intended, quite a shock.

But now he finally had the strength and the speed to keep up with his zippy little friend. He could swing around New York with his little buddy zipping along like a lightning strike.

It was probably that that cemented their relationship.

They looked out for each other, developed new techniques, and perhaps most crucially, finally exhausted the little mouse of its boundless energy.

So with a much calmer and less aggressive companion, Peter and his Pokemon seem at peace.

When you find him, he's in his lab, and his Pikachu is playfully bouncing sparks around in the little wire cage they use to expend the surplus electricity.

"Hey! Excited about tomorrow, babe?" Peter chirps, grinning at you.

"Yeah. Just... trying to see if there's any last minute tips you have."

"Well... don't count out a Pokemon just because they seem too different from you. Pikachu and I get along so well, but we were so different at first. It took a while to realize how much it likes napping on me, even if it makes my hair stand up, haha."

Moves - Electroweb, Quick Attack, Electro Ball, Magnet Rise (speedy moves + floating to easier maneuver with Peter)

Dick and Lucario

Dick only got his Lucario from Bruce. It was an egg that hatched into a Riolu.

Bruce had been endeavoring to help Dick learn some responsibility.

So Dick raised the thing from a Riolu pup, taking care of it. A task he took to like a fish to water.

At first, he didn't want to take the Pokemon out with him on patrol, knowing it'd be in danger.

But one day he came home injured, and the worried Riolu sat with him all night, working so hard on something.

When Dick awoke, he realized his Pokemon had evolved. And not only that, it had learned Heal Pulse to try to help him.

Dick felt so bonded with his Pokemon then, and they began to work together, even on patrol.

So they trained together, with Dick's style even helping his Lucario learn a move it ordinarily couldn't - Acrobatics.

Dick trusts his Pokemon partner with his life, and it him - so much so that it rarely, if ever, is in its Ball. It tends to just chill in its own space.

"Your Pokemon tend to teach you as much as you teach them. Don't think about what a Pokemon can do for you at first - instead, just focus on feeling that starting connection. You're finding a friend for life."

Moves - Acrobatics, Heal Pulse, Aura Sphere, Bone Rush

Percy and Dewott

Percy caught his Oshawott in Montauk - perhaps it was sent to him by Poseidon.

Unlike Dick or Peter, his Pokemon tends to be a lot different than him - instead of strengthening what he knows, it covers some of his deficiencies.

His Pokemon is both more childlike than him, and more disciplined.

Which means it tends to help him him relax when he needs to, and urges him to train and focus when he should.

Meanwhile he can be the midpoint between its playful and focused moods.

When it became a Dewott, they made the choice to have its scalchops edged with Celestial bronze, and it helps destroy monsters with as much aplomb as Percy does.

They have both made the decision together not to evolve it further, as Dewott likes to be able to use tools.

Of the three, Percy tends to use his Poke Ball the most to take care of his Dewott. It's a quick way to get it out of danger, and Percy doesn't like when it wanders off.

He'll have it stored in his Poke Ball in public, usually, and unleashes it to battle or at home for leisure.

You encounter Percy listening to music and chuckling as the Dewott tries to dance.

"You can't worry about it all that much." Percy says to you with a smile when you ask for advice. "Your Pokemon will choose you just as much as you choose it. They're not just pets, they're partners too."

Moveset: Razor Shell, X-Scissor, Icy Wind, Air Slash

At the end of it all, you feel pretty excited at the prospect of finding a Pokemon of your own.

Dick has reminded you to focus on the connection, and not the potential capabilities of a partner.

Peter has told you to keep an open mind.

And Percy has reminded you that it's a two-way process.

With all these tips, your anxiety is mostly calmed.

And of course, it's forgotten before bedtime when Dick playfully lines up their Pokemon and makes them "promise" to make your new buddy feel at home.

Pikachu chirrups playfully, Dewott nods seriously, and Lucario crosses its arms and holds one paw out, trying to do a thumbs up.

And you just know that no matter what happens, your new friend will be coming to a great home...

#peter parker x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #percy jackson x male reader #batman x male reader #pjo headcanons #spiderman x male reader #marvel headcanons #dc headcanons #headcanons #pokemon x male reader #pokemon headcanons

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 1 year

Text

Unattainable | 8

"We'll be arriving at our destination, shortly. Please refrain from moving excessively for your safety."

Kyoya didn't stop typing. In fact, he sped up at this time mark, as he properly sorted the budget for the host club. He was supposed to confirm with the club leader for the major purchases but alas...Kyoya let his eyes wander to said leader passed out and drooling against the window as he squeezed his old-Haruhi body pillow. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he focused back on his typing. Even as he stayed as focused as possible he couldn't help but let his eyes wander to the right side of the plane: where you were. He admired the way you listlessly watched the clouds and the sea waters below. He wanted to see what kept your attention. So focused on the amorphous tuffs of condensation. That you paid no mind to the loving gaze he was directed toward you. He was aware he wasn't the only one doing so as Mornozuka and Honey were doing the same. Haruhi on the other hand was blankly staring at her book; Kyoya could smell her anger from here which reminded him... there was quite a lot of competition.

Honey. Who was taking pictures of your distracted face, kicking his legs with a grin on his face?

Morinozuka. Who was where Haurhi was sat before the perfectly timed cake cart, watching you with just as much intensity if not more than his cousin.

Haruhi. Who was looking to be silently planning a crime? Tamaki. Who was still asleep and hugging his Haruhi body pillow but was also lovingly mumbling your name?

Kyoya's calculated gaze lingered on the twins. The redheads had a dark look on their faces as their eyes flickered between you and Haruhi. With a sigh, he pushed his glasses higher up on his nose and let out a tired sigh.

He couldn't decide which was worse that so many seemed to be after you or that the sliest of the group were not. He didn't put it past them to be...drastic if they didn't get their way, which Kyoya would prefer to stay out of the way of. But on the other side of the coin, Haruhi was showing a tremendous sense of status when it came to the illusive Serigaki name. One word from her could be a massive blow not only to their family's situation but possibly to their health as well.

There were a lot of rumors about the Serigaki family a story of a not-so-underdog becoming one of the greatest minds of our time. Forging the way through marketing and technology in general the family had already been placed at major footholds in the most prominent industries. It was outrageous how quickly their claim to fame had been and rumors circulated about the way that was done. Guesses range from gangs to prodigies, to sabotage. Most bizarre and oddly enough on the highest ladder there was talk of mind control. While he nor his family were quick to believe such a thing he was advised to move with caution. Instructed to make a good impression, I'm sure it'd be thrilling to do so much more and have your hand in marriage.

Kyoya grounded himself when he realized he stopped typing. Returning to his task he let a tiny smile creep up on his face. This was all too exciting and he was already too invested: his heart being the currency you had in your palms.

He was willing to fight for you. For it isn't often he's felt so willy-nilly about losing his already low position. But if spending a little over a week with you would do this to him he could no doubt guarantee you'd give him any strength he may need.

"We are in the private estate's air space, I ask that you brace yourself as we have arrived."

#yandere ouran highschool #yandere ouran host club x reader #yandere kyoya #yandere kyoya ootori #yandere haruhi x reader #yandere haruhi #yandere tamaki suoh #yandere tamaki x reader #yandere honey x reader #yandere honey senpai #yandere x reader #yandere harem #yandere mori x reader #yandere mitsukuni

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nevadas-night-time-novelist · 4 months

Note

I really loved the werewolf! sanford you wrote! I was wondering if you could do a follow up where someone on the team accidentally turns the reader? (maybe Hank or Sanford himself)

It's another werewolf! All dressed up in sheep's wool, and changing when the moons full. Can you show me the way?

Werewolf!Sanford x Demigirl!Reader P2

CW: Reader gets hurt, whole team gets hurt, descriptions of gore, vomit and body horror.

[Part 1] - will link later lol

Deimos had the zoomies, sprinting back and forth from your bedroom to the front door, his toes tip tapping with impatience and excitement. It'd been a couple months since you started going on hunts with the boys, always on Sanford's broad back, the night air fresh in your lungs, hair blown by the wind.

The boys felt safe enough to transform inside the base with you around, seeing as you could open the door to let them out. "I'm coming, hold your horses Dei." You chuckled as he ran up again, whining softly with puppy eyes, ears drawn back.

Something softly headbutted your back, and you turned to see Doc, who strolled passed and sat by the door. Hurry up. He was patient, yes, but even he was starting to get bored of waiting.

There was a scuffling noise in the kitchen, and you wandered over to see Hank with their head inside the bin, rummaging around for some leftovers. He turned to look at you, a chicken leg bone in his mouth. Yesterday's scraps, tonight's lunch.

Sanford padded out of your room, yawning widely, chuffing softly as he nuzzled his cold nose into your hand. "You ready Fordie?" He licked your palm, and you headed to the door, both wolves trailing behind.

Dei yipped in excitement, his feet tapping away still. He was the quickest of the pack, always sprinting around while outside, a supercharged battery burning off its excess energy.

Opening the door, the four wolves exited first, Deimos running off ahead, Doc walking behind, clearly intent on waiting until the door was secure as usual. Hank was still gnawing away at their treat, enjoying the marrow seeping out at they cracked and splintered the old bone. Sanford took a few paces outside, before laying down so you could climb on his back.

You pet Doc's head, setting the lock on the door before hopping into Sanford's back. "Alright furry boys, let's ride!"

Hank took off after Deimos, being easily swallowed by the night as the full moon was obscured by heavy clouds. Doc and Sanford followed, keeping pace with each other. It was routine, Deimos and Hank would run off up front, San and Doc taking up the rear, though rarely did they stray too far from each other.

The strength of a wolf is his pack, and the strength of a pack is the wolf. You could feel Sanford's heart beating against your thigh, his chest heaving as he ran along, his heavy paws thudding along, coughing up earth with his claws.

Up ahead, Deimos and Hank were atop a cliff, the smaller wolf looking skyward, awaiting for the very brief window when the moon would be visible. The three of you caught up, and you got off Sanford's back, the wolves grouping together to call a hunt.

A slither of silver shone in the sky, and Doc threw back his head, letting out a mournful howl, which was joined in a chorus by the rest. Butterflies filled your stomach, and you couldn't resist, howling with them too. And the moon vanished, hiding herself away for this night.

Hank threw you a questioning look, before marching down the cliff side, uninterested in you. Doc approached, nudging you with his head before turning to follow Hank. Deimos was wagging his tail, giving a soft awoo and giving a playful bow. Like Doc, he rubbed against you before waiting at the cliff.

San came up last, rubbing his face affectionately against you, rubbing his scent all over you. He'd asked you to be his partner recently, and you agreed excitedly. He'd given you a whole new happier life, of course you'd want to share it with him.

He bowed again, letting you climb atop, getting a good grip of his neck fur as you leaned into him, the cliff was pretty steep, staying low was the best way to keep safe and on top of your ride.

Together Dei and San raced, kicking up rocks in their wake, excitement flooding your veins. You weren't super into the killing, but the pack activities really helped bond you with the boys, they offered you more physical affection. Deimos was always trying to snuggle with you and Sanford, Doc would touch your hair softly as he passed by, Hank would... sometimes offer you a thumbs up.

Despite not being a wolf, you fit perfectly into the pack, as a pack mate, and as Sanford's girlfriend. Once again you hopped off his back, ahead of you stood a band of vampires. Stepping back, you tightly gripped the silver crucifix Doc had given you, the bottom of it had been sharpened like a knife, a powerful weapon for banishing supernatural beasts of all shapes and sizes.

"Fuck 'em up boys." At your command, the wolves lunged forward, the turf war underway. The wolves, all being skilled fighters in normal life, had the upper hand, and with their blood being corrosive to vampire's innards, it was sure to be a massacre.

Coloured blood painted the streets, neon leaking on every surface. Even the werewolves' badass bitch managed to take down one or two, Doc's gift proving to be incredibly useful.

Blood splashed into Hank's eyes, they were temporaily blinded, and with no arms to wipe the blood away, they latched onto the nearest thing that wasn't a wolf and smelled of vampires.

You screamed as his teeth dug in, and instantly he let go, realising his mistake. Deimos ripped the intestines of the last vamp standing, while Doc spun on his paws, noticing you crumple to the ground, clinging to your mauled arm.

"Hank you bastard!" Sanford snarled, lunging at him, the two sending fur and blood flying as they fought, San in pure rage, and Hank in self defence.

Doc raced over, Deimos following behind, both scared. "What happened?" Dei looked to Doc, eyes stricken with terror. "Vampire?"

"It was Hank. Sanford and I saw it." Doc nuzzled his face against you, licking your wound, but the pain didn't subside as it had with Sanford all those months back, it felt like acid was pouring into your skin.

"IT BURNS!" You dropped your weapon, Doc smelled burnt flesh and he nudged your hand, the silver having left a scald. The pain was overwhelming, you'd even missed out on the fact you could understand the wolves words now.

"SANFORD! STOP! She's going to turn!" Doc barked out, and a bloodied up Sanford tossed Hank aside before laying next to you, Hank had gotten a good few bites and scratches into his already wounded body.

"You.. I'm sorry, I didn't protect you princess." His golden eyes filled with hurt and pain, pain of being unable to protect his partner, his woman.

Agony filled your body, bones creaking and starting to reshape, nails splitting into claws, blood and teeth flooded out your mouth, old human ones forced out as new wolf ones formed in, round, sharp, capable of splitting flesh from bone.

There were no words to describe the hell your fragile body was going through, spine cracking and extending, legs bending unnaturally to take on new form. Blood, snot and tears flooded from your face, and it tore Sanford up, because there was nothing any of them could do to ease the suffering.

"They're going to be okay, right?" Deimos sounded panicked.

"Of course they are. She's always had a wolf's strength. Only now they've got the body to go along with the spirit." Doc put his tail around Dei's back, and Dei leaned into his father figure, whining softly.

Your body felt like it was on fire, a mixture of blood and puke rolled out of your mouth, your claws scraping up the concrete road. Bright wolf eyes opened, scanning the rest of her pack, seeing them in a whole new perspective.

"I know it hurts." Sanford placed his muzzle over yours, body twitching and settling into its new self. "The first few always do. But your body will get used to it. And they will never be as painful as the first one, that's when the worst changes happen. We've all been through it princess."

You rested your face into San's thick neck fur, his once off putting dog smell now appealing. "D-does.. t-this me--mean I get to bite the n-next one who joins u-us?" The joke fell flat, but Sanford licked your muzzle.

Hank took a step forward, and Sanford snarled at him, ready to attack if he advanced again. "I.. I'm sorry. It was an accident. Blood in my eyes. Instinct to bite."

"You are banished from the pack tonight. You will spend the night alone, and as many moons as it takes for her to forgive you." Doc commanded, his teeth bared. "Is that clear?"

"No." You eyed Doc, who's ears went backwards.

"I'm sorry?"

"Hank will not be punished like that. While I don't forgive them for what they've done to me, I will not deprive them of one of the only comforts they know." Your grey fur bristled.

"Are you sure?" Sanford mumbled lowly, never taking his eyes off Hank.

"Yes. You taught me the way of the wolf, and depriving them of that is cruel. But make no mistake, you are not to touch me, in any shape or form, my body is not yours to lay a claw or fang on again. You will have to do a lot to earn forgiveness, but if you try, perhaps you will."

Taking the lead, you turned and began heading towards home, each step painful as bones and muscles had to adjust to their new positions and lengths, black tipped tail hanging limp. Sanford followed, Dei behind him, Doc next, and Hank bringing up the rear.

"You are lucky," Doc growled. "that they are so kind. Even now, she has pared you from isolation, after what you've done."

"I know." Hank's tail was slightly between their legs.

Doc stopped in his tracks, letting the three of you get a lead, just enough to be out of earshot. "Besides, you owe Sanford an apology too."

"How so?"

"He wanted to change them himself." Doc gave a wolfy chuckle before plodding onwards, leaving Hank to ponder a moment. They would let their packmates nurse each others wounds, allowing their own to scab over without help, a self inflected punishment.

They trudged along, a space next to Doc was calling his name in the den bed. A space that was furthest from Sanford and his mate.

#hank #deimos #sanford #2bdamned #madcom #madness combat #madcom x reader #madness combat x reader #madness combat reader insert #sanford x reader #cw gore #x gon deliver to ya #queue'd

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court-jobi · 1 year

Text

Expert in Distraction

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Word Count: 1,883

Rating: M, 18+ (please scroll on by, kiddos)

Warnings: 🔥stress relief, est. relationship, spicy stimulation, fem pronouns, excessive use of the nickname 'angel', #thehelmetstayson

Summary: He’s been workin’ on this new hot-rod of his for a while now. He works hard enough with errands of his own, and deserves a break more than anything– especially after all he’s been through lately. So you try to spell your Mandalorian– only to have him bail you out when things go south on an errand in the Tattooine market scene. Frustrated and down on yourself, you try to keep your angst out of his sight… only for your Mando partner-in-crime to sense his girl needs him and opts to helps alleviate your stress.

“D’you wanna talk, or a distraction?”

You meant it as a clarifying question, but it came out soft: a plea for the solution to the problem.

“Distraction…?”

Oh, yes. Yes to the touch, yes to that angle, yes to the distraction, yes to your Din Djarin.

A/N: Inspired by my favorite bounty hunter (and how the phrase "rough day" will forever be cemented in my mind by @no-droids beloved work), here's how I imagine the sharp-eyed -but ridiculously in love- Mandalorian would help you unwind after a day where nothing's gone right. Cleaning carbon scoring can wait; after you've answered his question for how best to help you...

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Ashla knows you'd had a rough day.

You'd been running clear across compounds in search of what you thought were easy to find supplies while your Mandalorian was making repairs in the comfort of a private shipyard. He needed a break from finding his own parts this week, but would never say so. Routine stuff wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle picking up and enjoyed the time alone to feel accomplished, so you set out for the chore yourself.

What you didn't expect was the shootout in the hangar. Damn hothead spacers...

That sure put a wrench into things. You got interrupted on the job and caught in a really tight spot without much cover or a good exit path. Not that you could handle without being covered in beskar. So, you sent out your reluctant call about the outburst to the other end of your comm, where Mando obviously came to get you, broke it up, and brought you back right as night fell.

But the adventure of the day left you feeling pent up and irritated at how it'd gone.

You steamed at the sink, having rinsed the parts you’d salvaged but staring the pile down before mustering the will to dry them off. Sighing as you did so, you sensed his presence behind you. His shadow on the wall gave you pause so you just carried on, thinking he'd move along.

Only he didn't. Inside that she'll keeping his face from you, he wrestled with how to help you. A hand came to your waist, a low voice breaking through the incoming tension headache brewing behind your eyes;

"Hey you."

He was in soft mode. Shit. You could hear it in his voice, and your heart sank.

You seriously loved when he'd get sweet like this. But after today? You knew you were in a horrible mood and felt guilty for not falling into him as easily as you wanted.

"Hey," you tried to manage back pleasantly, but you were tired. "I'm almost done here, then we can relax if you want," and so you picked up your pace.

The Mando leaned over you easily and led your hand off the counter. "Don't worry about those."

Your temper flared and turned around to face him,

“Look I'm fine, just let me do this, ok? I can do this one thing!"

Deadly quiet calmness shut your throat again as he looked down at you. One sided tip of the helm, a cue for you to check yourself.

You hopelessly just wanted something to go right out of this day... and you regretted the tone as soon as you said it.

So, you took a deep breath and stared off to the side. Giving up the bite, you chucked the towel somewhere behind you, gripping onto his belts' hooks in midreach– to communicate his touch was welcome at the very least. You'd still take the hug, even if you weren't happy. Ungloved and warmer than the usual gloves covering him up, his grounding hand returned-- this time coming to your cheek.

"D'you want to talk, or a distraction?"

Ugh, you’d had enough talking about the things going wrong recently. Now, distraction? That could be anything from fixing you a snack, to shooting mynocks off the hilltop. Depends if he’s angry enough.

You meant it more as a clarifying question, but it came out soft- for the solution to the problem.

"Distraction…?"

With another tilt, the Mandalorian closed the rest of the space between you and trailed that hand up to rake your hair away. He caught the pair of pins where you'd tied your front pieces back in a hurry and worked them out, tossing them in the sink behind you. With another careful shake and swipe all the way down, now he was able to work the braid out. You let your eyes fall shut at the sensation, releasing your finger's grip into a gentler hold on his sides. A slight hum came from you without realizing and you worked to let your brow fall from its tensed peak.

"There’s my girl," he whispered. "I've missed you."

He meant the smile that had been missing; it was back the instant he touched you. You flickered up at him a little pitiful, and he hummed at you– the sign that he was watching.

"Sweet girl..." The mutter under his breath at the sight of you. "...why don't I just help you unwind a bit. You’ll feel better. "

"How's that?" You asked softer, your voice weak and a bit higher.

He leaned in a bit closer to your ear, nuzzling against your temple as his gently as beskar would allow. Cradling the back of your head to him as his hand planed across your stomach,

"I can help relax you. You won't have to move or lay a finger on anything else tonight. Just let me take care of you. Touch you, in all the ways I know you love."

His hand slid down lower as the moment blended into something else, and you suddenly inhaled quick at the fluttering you now felt in your thighs.

A delicious distraction.

Your Mandalorian coaxed you, his hand massaging at your hip. "How does that sound?"

You nodded and hummed high in your throat, moaning a little when he massaged that hand into your hair to scratch your scalp.

He'd do anything to keep you safe and happy. He'd accomplished the first, now to solve the second....

You hummed when he massaged through your hair, and reacted: pulled him close enough where you could reach up to his shoulders. He pressed in like a perfect fit and traced the edge of your pants, right at the tender skin of your stomach.

"S'that feel good, angel?"

He nuzzled you again to gauge your permission. You nodded again and fell into the sway he started, your hips unconsciously pressing into his. Anything to be closer. Your head dropped towards his neck while your arms found their home atop his shoulders. He swelled with pride at how easy you would stay under him.

WIthout an ounce of hesitation left, the Mandalorian took the submission to let his hand slip under your waistband. You hummed bright at the intrusion and whimpered when he'd ghosted over that tender part at your core before he let his hand cup you fully. Hiding in that warm spot of fabric before the hard beskar chestplate, you sighed into his touch below… The sink of your entire body wasn’t far from your Mando’s sight, as he cradled you back to lean against the counter the whole way down.

"That's my angel... I've got you. There we go~."

Softness galore and buttery warmth coated his voice while he coaxed you just enough to have you sink back against the countertop and your legs widened a bit more for his hand to move. "Is this ok?"

"Yes please," you whispered- laced with far more begging than you anticipated.

Yes to the touch, yes to the angle, yes to the distraction, yes to him.

His chuckle echoed in the helm. "So polite.. you have good manners, cyar'ika."

Fingers began to work gently against your opening (all to elicit a moan from you), finding their home and making space as he pleased,

"--But I want you to forget the honorifics tonight. You just let go and say whatever you need to. Loud as you want."

The sigh that left you at his words was so needed and gripping him tighter sent the message:

"Fuuuuck that feels good."

You felt your hips rock against him on their own. As your guide the rest of the way in, he captured you to his chest.

This here, this guy was a man of words you got when the two of you were alone. How grateful you were for the brief respite being on this dustball of a planet gave you. Away from the other hunters, from the garage techs, even out of Peli’s guest rooms– here in the little corner of your private, rented garage, he'd litter all sorts of sweet words on you while handling you against that counter… your stomach jumping at each one as they flowed through you.

You sound… so kriffing gorgeous, just like this.

That's it, c'mon.

That's my pretty girl.

You work so hard for me. This is all for you, now.

Let go for me.

Any aggravation of the day be damned. Nothing mattered except for the bow to burst; and your Mando was making great time, the expert of distraction he is. That's his secret weapon-- turning around a bad day the moment you give the word.

The live wire in you was beginning to burn, sparking trembles in the body that made your legs shake. A foot popped off the ground and atop the strong thigh that parted you.

Normally you were laying down for this part, and nerves for the sudden onslaught of it rose with a vengeance, getting better of you.

Beside his helmet, you caught the reflection of your brows tense for new reason. Facing your light and relieving pants, the black of the visor stayed fixed on your face.

"I-I,I cant- Din,” you begged, “I can't–"

"Yes you can, mesh’la." He whispered as if he were the call of Sleep himself. As if it were a dream.

The quiver ebbing inside brought you to hide in his neck.

The voice seeping from the edge of the helmet,

"You're so close, let go.”

The core of you revved to the edge. Your only hope was that voice–

–and its final, sweet order:

“Cum for me, angel."

For gasps of breath after you stopped shaking, you held onto him for dear life. Thankfully, he made doing so more comfortable by slipping off his chestplate between you.

It's no secret now, your loving him. In your light, ditzy whisper to tell him so, he merely hummed a little chuckle back, gave you a gentle keldabe kiss, and swayed again. Just content to hold you- and murmur it back in turn.

The gesture of what you did today didn't go unnoticed; Din knew exactly what you'd been trying to do. Taking on the grocery run would have spelled him after a string of long days this week. How could he blame you for a a frustrating turn of events like a shootout? He'd be pissy, too.

Not only would he come every time to help, but he'd spell them from you if he could. He honestly preferred having you by his side on errands, anyway. But the offer meant the world to him.

"Mmm'love you..." the little whimper came from the lovely bundle in his arms. The stress appeared to have melted away entirely.

"Someone has tired eyes," he replied back, equally sated at the sight of his darling, "Now, no lifting any fingers, hear me? I mean it. I'll take care of these in the morning."

No fight from you there. He drove it straight out of you, to his own happy calm.

Of course, when Din led you both out from the workspace and toward the residential district, locking the garage behind them, he made sure to keep you under his arm and gave his warm word of love right back.

#din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the helmet stays on #mando x reader #mandalorian pre-BOBF #din djarin smut

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