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sinisternymphette · 5 months

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everybody loves my baby

an historical au | 1930's florist!reader x dilfgangster!rafe (minors dni)✶

tw: v!olence, sex

✶ gangster!rafe, who makes sure everyone knows that you're off limits. Whether it is by gently placing his hand on the back of your soft neck and slowly caressing it with his calloused knuckles, using one of his large fingers to softly trail down one of your arms while the both of you are sitting next to each other in a restaurant, putting his muscled arm around you like a mantle, giving you warmth and comfort, and even taking your hand in his to plant a kiss on the palm as he closes his eyes and sniffs to take in your scent without the care of what others might think of your intimacy. You were his and he was yours, and that was truly all that mattered.

✶ gangster!rafe, who would do anything to protect you. Literally. If anyone ever laid a hand on his pretty little florist, they'd have to go through him, and it certainly wouldn't end so jolly.

"You dared to touch my woman, hm. Well, not so confident now, are you."

he said in a low, menacing chuckle as he shook his head slowly, cornering the man before him in the lonely and dimly lit corridor behind the bar. He had gone to the washroom for just one minute- one minute without you in his plane on sight, and a man walked over to you and started complimenting you before giving you a rose. That wasn't the problem though. When you thanked him kindly and smelled the rose, he pulled his arm up to brush a strand out of your face. And so, he had to take the matter to his own hands.

"Now now, i'm sure you're a good fella and understand that it was just a minor misunderstanding!"

the man quickly said in a pleading tone, obvious fear in his wide eyes, which were easily comparable to a frightened doe's, before proceeding to pat Rafe's shoulder with one of his shaking hands- almost as if they were old friends. Rafe shook his hand away in a swift motion, as if he had just been touched by a rat who had come out off a trash can. He punched the man on his ribcafe after his fake of a charming smile vanished and turned into a dark frown as if he was no longer who he was before. His other hand reached to the other's mouth as the man made muffled yowls of pain. He, however, didn't even flinch once.

"You're damn lucky i'm a generous man, so make sure to take this as a lesson for the future, yes? to keep your hands to yourself? wouldn't want to cut all your fingers off and make a mess on my shirt."

he then smirked almost playfully, his expression once again changing in a matter of seconds before moving his hand up and shaking it, then putting it inside the pockets of his brown pants and using the other in order to adjust his white, high quality long-sleeved shirt. The man was now practically on the floor, whimpering as he crouched against the stone wall behind him as he shamefully covered his face with his shaking hands. It was truly an embarrassing sight. Once Rafe was finished, he turned his back and opened the back door to the bar, tilting his head to the side and staring at him one last time.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to get back to more important matters- the wonderful evening I was having with her before you, very rudly I might say, abruptly interfered."

✶ gangster!rafe, who likes giving you nicknames that represent your beauty such as 'dollface', 'peach', and his personal favorite, 'dandelion'. You absolutely adore them too- the way they always roll off his tongue so sweetly, like butter being spread on a slice of bread. He's a man who admires and cares for your body, your mind and very being as if you were a princess or a delicate porcelain vase with beautiful painted flowers.

"Look at you, m' pretty dandelion all dolled up for me." he murmurs as he carefully places his head over your shoulder, blue orbs looking into your eyes through the mirror of your bedroom while his hands found your waist and gently nestled around it. His lips were slightly curved upwards, making the hint of his smile shown to you. One of his fingers traced small circles on your waist, making you let out a small and flustered chuckle as you covered your mouth with one of your hands in a polite manner to hide it. You were wearing one of your newer dresses- a pretty light blue polka-dotted dress that perfectly hugged your figure. This, was one of the many dresses Rafe gifted you in the past two weeks. Your lips had red tint and your cheeks had a faint pink color on them- a little bit of makeup, but not too much. His eyes trailed down, all the way to the contour of your legs and to the white leathered heels you were wearing. in his eyes, you truly were a work of art- like a Renaissance painting that had come to life. Now, he was a man that firmly believed that actions spoke more than words, so as soon as his eyes met with yours once again, he planted sweet kisses on your neck alongside little nibbles. This, was his own way of letting you know that you looked absolutely stunning.

✶ gangster!rafe, who, despite having so much blood on his hands, is always careful with you and tries to avoid showing you his darker side as much as he can. Who doesn't want you to know all the sins he has done, all the people he had killed before, in fear of loosing you forever.

''Y'know how much I care about you, right kid?'' he asks after taking a long drag from his cigarette, voice almost a whisper as he's sitting on the sofa of your living room while you laid next to him, head resting on the armrest and legs over his lap while his free hand slowly massages one of your bare feet. He stared at you, blinking slowly. The sudden of a question made you open your once closed eyes and perk your head up to look up at him with an innocent, confused stare. ''Well, certainly. I always have.'' you replied softly, giving him a reassuring smile before it vanished as soon as it appeared. You sensed that something was wrong. After all, why else would he ask this? ''Why do you ask?'' you continued, now scanning the expression on his face, despite the fact that he was a very hard man to read. He swallowed, but maintained eye contact. ''Nothin'. Just wanted to let you know how much I love you all over again.'' He knew he shouldn't lie to you- that he should tell you the truth about where all his money comes from, how his family got as powerful as it is, what kind of person he actually is. But it was too dangerous. Luckily for him, he was a good liar, an actor- if you may call it that. He grabbed the foot he was massaging and placed it near his lips before he kissed each one of your fingers in a slow, sensual manner. This made you relax and soon enough, you were resting once again, breathing calmly as you felt safe in his presence.

✶ gangster!rafe, who tries to stop by the flower shop every single day to say hello. No matter how busy he was, how much trouble he had gotten himself into, what kind of business he was doing that day, he never forgot about you. Ever.

✶ gangster!rafe, who likes to take you back to where the both of you had first met every once in a while. The place, in question, is les deus magots.

✶ gangster!rafe, who might be rough between the sheets, but is as gentle as he can be afterwards and makes your comfort his prime priority.

you let out quiet mews as he pounded into you, you legs wrapped around his hips as your plush breasts jiggled up and down in rhythm with his thrusts. Your plump lips remained parted as you felt out of breath, feeling an intense flutter in your tummy that only got stronger as his movements picked up a speed. It felt so good- too good, in fact. You couldn't help but let out some tears that started to run down your cheeks, eyes closed shut as you listened to his grunts. The bed was shaking, making the crackling sound echo through the bedroom.

''There you go, shhh, you're okay.'' he whispers soothingly as he plants a soft kiss on the side of your cheek, both of you laying inside the warm bathtub. There were scented candles on the bathroom countertops, The lights on the pastel green walls turned off in order to enhance the ambiance of the room. Your muscles finally relaxed, and you felt yourself slowly start drifting into sleep while one of Rafe's hands massaged your shoulders. He seems content, blue eyes full of emotion as he looks down at you, hot breath against your neck and tiny droplets of water landing on your back from his wet and messy hair.

✶ gangster!rafe, who lets you spend his money on whatever you want, no matter what. All you have to do is ask, and he'll give you some cash- no questions asked.

✶ gangster!rafe, who loves the way your eyes brighten up whenever you're at the park and you find a pretty flower. Who later takes it from your little hands and places it on your hair.

✶ gangster!rafe, who gifted you a puppy one day as a surprise .

''So, I got you a little something.'' he tells you while he held in front of you a rather large red box with a big white bow around it between his arms. His tone was blunt, his expression the same as always, yet he was lightly tapping his foot against the wooden floor of your home. You were confused, to say the least, But of course- you accepted it, quickly taking it from his hands- perfectly manicured nails gripping it tightly. It was heavy- very heavy. ''Oh! I wonder what it could be!!'' you said almost in a lyrical shriek, excitement in your voice as you sat down on your sofa, legs crossed while you placed it right next to you. Suddenly, it moved, and your widening eyes drifted from the package to Rafe. ''No...no.. gosh, Rafe don't tell me it's what I think it is'' you murmured, placing your hands over your mouth. You were met with silence. Of course he didn't answer. Instead, he just tilted his head, almost as if he was attempting to hide the sly grin that was beginning to form on his lips. Not being able to control your excitement any longer, you carefully opened the box, taking the upper part away and revealing what was inside. You gasped, and your pretty shrieks of happiness filled the room. Rafe Cameron had gifted you a cocker spaniel puppy. A real puppy- not a plushie. ''Oh my goodness.. oh my goodness! oh wow- I have no words!'' you ran up to him and hugged him tightly- maybe a little too much. The puppy trotted towards the both of you and barked happily. ''Glad to be makin' you happy, peach'' he said before gently taking your chin in his hand to make you look up at him before kissing you on the lips.

✶ gangster!rafe, who wouldn't admit it out loud, but sometimes thinks that maybe.. you really are 'the one' for him...

✶ a/n : GUYS GUYS I DID IT!! I know this is a bit short, but tbh.. I might write more about gangster!rafe in the future :) if anyone wants to request something with him you can feel free to do so too. I tried to include a little smut, but eh.. this was my first ever fic (if you could even call this a fic) so it's probably a bit...meh. Either way, I'm glad I finally finished it, and I hope it was enjoyable to read!!

✶ creds : @amariisflossy for the gangster!rafe idea, @dollywons for the second header

@sinisternymphette 2024

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sierrale8ne · 1 month

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paige bueckers x black!fwb!oc previous next

nsfw // 3.6k words, no dom/sub ordeal just pure horniness, use of an aphrodisiac, slight dry humping, thigh riding, fingering, tribbing, oral, squirting, multiple orgasms, dirty talk. inspired by this!

Venus hummed along softly to some song off of her (Paige’s) playlist as she sat on her couch. She was waiting for the athlete, who had just finished yet another late lifting session and told Venus she would be there within the hour.

The tattooed girl could very easily tell the difference in how badly the blonde had wanted to be around her these last couple weeks, and it hadn’t even been just about sex. Going on drives, to the movies, even just sitting on the couch and talking. Venus knew she couldn’t let it keep going like this, especially with how her feelings had grown from lust to love in what felt like a matter of seconds. But she had Paige in a way that nobody else did, so she would take what she could.

She heard the knock at her door and—shamefully— shot up and ran to it, opening the door fairly quickly to Paige in a SKIMS cotton ribbed tank top, the same one Venus swore up and down she had stolen last weekend. A black backpack rested on her shoulder and grey Nike sweat shorts were on her waist, exposing her long tanned legs, muscular from all the time she had spent in the gym lately.

“Wasted no time opening this door, huh?” The blonde joked, stepping aside and into the apartment. Her arms finding a home on Venus’s hips.

“Didn’t wanna hear you complain about me taking so long.” Venus responded.

“I don’t complain.”

“You’re complaining right now, or am I thinking things?” Venus chuckled, taking a hold of Paige’s hand and dragging her into the living room, retaking her spot on the couch.

Paige’s sea blue eyes raked over Venus body. Grey sweatpants that hung so low on her hips that she swore one more tug would’ve left her bottom half nude. Her top half was covered by a white tube top, the obvious tan lines on her from the Connecticut sun, peaking through. Venus’s hair was different, now instead of the jet black 30in hair she sported a week ago, she had her hair done in beautiful boho braids.

Paige was nearly drooling.

And her obvious hunger, reminded her of what she wanted to talk about in the first place.

Paige reached towards the floor, and into her bag. “So I was scrolling on TikTok the other night.” She began explaining, “and I came across, this.” Paige placed the box on Venus’s lap.

The box was a nice matte black, gold decals on the seam and decorating the simple font on the front. Limited edition: PINK CHERRY, followed by a very large center font. TABS.

Venus inspected it, slightly confused, before flipping it over, suddenly very intrigued with Paige’s nasty idea. “So like a honey pack, but chocolate.” Venus chuckled, pushing her hair out of her face.

“N-sure. Like a honey pack but chocolate.” Paige rolled her eyes. “You’re such a mom, reading all the information on the back. I promise you’ll be okay.” She joked.

Venus simply brushed the athlete off her eyes glued to the back: Break. Bite. Bang. Pleasure-boosting white chocolate, cherry blend with high-quality natural ingredients to increase your sex performance. She was intrigued.

Opening the box. the girl was met with three different squares, and admittedly, the chocolate looked very enticing. She grabbed one, popping it into her mouth without hesitation.

“Wait! Baby, we were supposed to take them together. Dumbass.” Paige groaned, reaching over and grabbing the second one for herself. She hummed at the flavor.

“Whatever. Split this last one with me.” Venus asked, snapping the chocolate in half and handing the blonde the triangular shaped piece. She closed the box before tossing it on the coffee table. “Now what?”

“You were the one doin’ allat reading. You tell me.”

Those were the last words that rang through the air as the pair sat on the couch. Paige had her legs spread as she sat back with her eyes darting around the room. Venus on the other hand, pulled her legs onto the comforting grey cushions, snuggling into the blonde’s side. She’d smelt like a nice mixture of roses and vanilla, a combination credited to the blonde’s body wash and shampoo respectively. The slight hint of cologne wafted through her nose, making Venus let out the slightest little moan.

The package had mentioned a 20-40 minute wait time and effects that would last for up to three hours, but truthfully after about half an hour, Venus was starting to feel the effects in full form. The box mentioned an amplified emotional connection, but she didn’t think it would be this serious. While her legs were definitely glued shut at this point her mind was running a thousand miles a minute and her heart nearly beat out of her chest. She didn’t know if she could really blame that on just the chocolate.

“You doin’ okay, blondie?” She asked lowly, taking her eyes off the poor Netflix movie Paige had chosen to pass the time, and instead looking over at the girl next to her. The flush on her ivory skin was indescribable. Paige’s chest rose and fell at a rapid rate, her hardened nipples very clear under Venus’s her shirt. She bit her bottom lip softly, and her eyes fluttered every time they closed. “Holy shit, it’s working!”

“Yes, it’s fucking working.” Paige gulped, and the girl’s eyes followed the bob of her throat.

Paige’s right arm was draped over Venus’s shoulder, pulling her close. The heat that radiated off them felt like a dream. Venus’s crazy sex appeal didn’t help her either. The tattoos across her upper body practically glowed under the small lamp light, hair beautifully framing her sculpted face, and the lips Paige loved so much, covered in a sheer pink lip balm. “Im not gonna lie, you got me so fuckin’ soaked right now.”

“Wanna show me?”

That was the nail in coffin. Paige reached over, pulling Venus onto her lap and instantly smashing her lips against the other. They were starving, basically trying to eat the other alive. Venus’s tongue pushed into Paige’s mouth, as she chased her lips. She angled her head a little more, holding the blonde’s face between her hands as she deepened the kiss. Paige’s nails dug into Venus’s plush thighs.

“I need you, baby.” Venus breathes, pulling away from the kiss to push Paige’s hair from her face. A smile fell onto Paige’s swollen lips.

Baby. Venus wasn’t one for pet names, she thought it would cause her to fall deeper into the rabbit hole that was Paige. But she did now, and it was everything she hoped it to be.

Her hips bucked up to meet Venus halfway, desperately searching for something to ease the ache in her stomach. Their lips chased the other feverishly as they rocked back and forth. The only thing heard in the room other than their clothes rubbing and heavy breaths was the voice of the actors on TV.

“You’re killin’ me here, V.” Paige spoke against her lips, “fuckin’ killing me.”

Paige pulled off to kiss and suck at Venus’s neck. Her slender fingers dipping to the waistband of the girl’s sweats. She struggled taking them off, mind slightly clouded by her very obvious lust, but all Venus needed was for them to get past her knees. She kicked them off the rest of the way.

“Need you so bad. Mmph, Look.” Her eyes fluttered shut when Paige bit her sweet spot and eventually pulled away, but nonetheless Venus dragged her hand between her legs to her clothed cunt. The panties she wore were a nice lilac color that made Paige curse under her breath. “My pussy’s so wet for you, P.” Venus explained, using her manicured fingers to pull the cloth to the side. She softly positioned herself on Paige’s muscular thigh, pushing the material of her shorts away as she began slowly rocking on it.

“Oh my God.” Paige groaned, shocked at how wet she really was. It was one thing to see it, but to feel the warm slick on her leg was a different feeling.

The blonde pulled off her tank top, fingers immediately meeting the pink, swollen, and unbelievably sensitive nipples on her chest as Venus continued grinding on her leg.

She brought a hand to Paige’s mouth, slightly touching her parted lips before slipping two fingers into her mouth. She had only ever seen Paige wildly dominant, even if Venus was the one doing the work. So her eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head when she saw Paige wrap her lips around them and suck on them, her head slightly bobbing as she looked Venus in the eye.

Pulling out her soiled fingers, Venus let out another moan. Paige’s obvious pining combined with the tug of her clit against her muscular thigh felt like torture. “Fuck— gonna let me play with your pussy, baby?” She didn’t even give a chance for the girl to answer before sinking her hand into Paige’s shorts. Her boxers already stained by arousal. “So fuckin’ wet. Shit, Paige.” Venus’s hands slipped past the grey boxers as well feeling the warmth on her fingers and taking that as the okay to push them inside.

“Oh fuck, V.” The blonde’s head tipped back, the hands once playing with her tits now dropping to Venus’s hips, rocking her back and forth at whatever pace she pleased. There wasn’t any room for teasing with the way they were craving one another. She wanted Paige to moan in her ear now, to tell her how good it felt now, cum on her hand now.

With every push of her fingers, Venus’s hips seemed to move at an ungodly pace. Her clit throbbing so badly that Paige could feel the continued leak of her arousal. “So tight ‘round me, oh my God.”

“Venus. Fuck, ma, just like that. Right there.” Paige gripped her hips even harder, the bruises on those hips almost guaranteed at this point. “Feels good? Riding my thigh like a slut, it feels so good, yeah?”

The girl simply nodded. The pleasure she was feeling was absolutely otherworldly, her eyes rolling back slightly. She couldn’t do anything other than moan.

“I can’t wait to get a taste of you, ma. Want you to cum on my thigh first, okay? Please.” Every thrust of Venus’s made Paige’s jaw drop or eyes roll. The way she felt right now was completely indescribable. Her plump bottom lip was taken between her teeth, filthy, guttural groans escaping her throat.

“I—shit. Pleasepleaseplease, ooh fuck! Please, Paige.” Venus babbled, not even knowing if she was begging for the girl to cum, or for her own orgasm. The lust blending and turning her brain to mush as she came almost immediately. She had never came that fast in her life, no matter how good Paige fucked her.

While her hips slowed and her head gently dipped into the crook of Paige’s neck, she sped her fingers up some more. “I’m gonna get you there, make you cum on my hand. I promise.” Venus spoke into the blonde’s ear.

“C’mon, I’m so close, baby. Fuck me like that. Please, don’t stop.” Venus dipped her head down to Paige’s neck, peppering wet kisses across her jugular. The blatant pleading from the woman under her was intoxicating, she wanted to see her like this more often.

Paige had luckily stopped moving Venus across her leg, but she didn’t stop feeling her up. Hands roaming feverishly along the girls thighs and ass, stopping to grip the flesh in her hands for leverage.

“Sound so good, you gonna cum for me?” Venus asked, snaking her head to lock eyes with Paige.

Face flushed, mouth agape, her blue eyes suddenly very dark by her pupils. She looked fucking hot. It made Venus’s body tingle knowing she was the only one who looked at her like this. Who could make her look like this.

“Yes. I’m cumming, baby, I— fuck!” The high pitched moan that escaped the blonde nearly made Venus cum a second time, arousal dripping down her inner thigh. A smile formed on the girls face as she brought her thumb to Paige’s clit. She rubbed it softly, her fingers helping Paige ride it out.

Venus leaned forward to kiss her lips briefly, or at least she attempted to before Paige’s large hand snuck into her braids and pulled her in deeper. She slipped her hand out of the blonde’s, now completely soaked, sweats, bringing her slim manicured fingers closer to her mouth.

“You’re unreal.” Paige spoke breathlessly when they finally pulled away. Bringing her fingers to her mouth, the piercing on her tongue making an appearance as she licked all of Paige from her fingers, humming at the taste before removing them.

“You taste so good, P.”

“Clothes off.” The blonde demanded, slightly pushing Venus off her lap.

The atmosphere suddenly shifted. Whatever was in those chocolates was working because neither one of them was so fast to start taking off their clothes. Paige kicked off her sweats and boxers, eagerly lying back on the couch with a hand between her legs and watching Venus pull off her dripping panties and tight fitting white shirt.

“You can’t wait for me?” Venus teased, pushing the girl’s hand away from her sopping cunt and situating herself between Paige’s legs. “What?” She asked, noticing the way those enticing blue eyes stared at her body. Raking over her perky tits, toned stomach, hips that sported bruises from just minutes prior, her folds and how they glistened in arousal.

Licking her lips, Paige shook her head, practically in disbelief. “You’re just so gorgeous. I keep forgetting.” Her hands reached for Venus’s hips, pulling her closer so she could slot their legs together. “Been thinking about you and this pussy all day, pretty girl.”

Venus shifted forward, pushing her cunt right onto Paige’s and searching for that perfect angle. It was a bit of a struggle getting in the perfect position, the abundance of wetness in between them both caused Venus to slip but once she found it, it was endgame.

Paige bit on her lower lip so forcefully she almost drew blood, her strong hands found their home on either side of Venus’s hips again, assisting her in grinding against her.

“Tell me.” Venus asked, her breathing slightly picking up. “Tell me what you been thinking about, P”

Her statement was followed by desperate jerks as she rolled her hips and pushed her swollen clit against Paige’s, however, the pleasure became increasingly intense. Paige meeting her halfway while those hands trailed up to her tits made Venus’s. eyes water and eyebrows furrow tightly.

“You riding me—fuck—lookin’ so damn fine on top of me.” The athlete explained, the sensitivity making her orgasm build in her core already. “Pushin’ these legs to your ears and making you take me. I’d fuck you so good, baby, you know that? Get so deep in it you’d be cryin’ for me.”

“Paige—”

“Bend you over every fuckin’ surface in this house.” Paige continued as the tension increased, driving Venus to pick up the pace. Kneading at the girls chest, pinching at her nipples before sitting up slightly and pulling the right one into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the flesh, looking up through her eyelashes at how Venus bit her lip.

She moved her attention to Venus’s other breast, leaving red marks as she went before suckling on that nipple as well. Venus let out a moan into her ear, the friction between them had them both soaking wet on the couch.

“Mmm— How hard I’d make you cum,” Paige started as she pulled back, looking between her legs at the mess on her thighs. “Have you squirt all over me, on the floor, on this damn couch.”

“Shit, baby!” Frantic moans tumbled out of Venus. The room was filled with the sounds of her high pitched whimpers and Paige’s words and blissed out curses. And don’t forget about the wet, smacking sound of hot skin against skin.

“Fuckin’ gonna make me cum. Keep talkin’, please.”

“Shit— I wanna eat you ‘til you’re begging me to stop. I wanna stretch this pretty pussy so wide with my cock. You’d like that, huh? My nasty li’l slut.” Paige was blabbering at this point, sharing her filthiest thoughts while her orgasm approached, the coil in her stomach nearly snapped. “Shit’s leaking for me, baby. You’re so wet, oh my God. Fuck, V.”

She was getting close, her back was arching, and Venus was drooling at the sight of her toned abs and perfect tits put on display the tan of her biceps and tan lines on her torso— it was a sight that was nearly enough to push the tattooed girl over the edge. Paige was eagerly meeting her halfway, bucking up into Venus with haste.

“Good girl. You’re so good, baby, just like that.”

“‘M gonna cum, fuck!” Venus announced, covering Paige’s cunt in her release and the blonde followed soon after with a cry of the girl’s name. Venus held onto Paige’s waist slowing her movements to ride them through their high before sliding off and slumping against the other slide of the couch.

Her chest heaved, and even despite her powerful orgasms and obvious exhaustion from her exertions, the pulse between her legs was undeniably painful. Her clit was so sensitive and the feeling in her lower abdomen seemingly went away for five seconds before coming back like a tidal wave.

“Let me clean you up.”

“What?”

“What?” Paige mocked, “you heard me. Open your legs, ma.”

Paige was a tease. Because while Venus for sure thought she would wipe her down with her shirt, she nearly cried when she felt the girl’s tongue on her clit. The soft kitten licks were enough to break her apart on Paige’s tongue.

“Box said three hours, so let me get you right.” Paige commented, swirling her pointed tongue around the bud. “Wanna make you cum as many times as you need it, baby.” That tone of voice made Venus’s eyes roll to the back of her head, vibrations forcing her legs to close around that full head of blonde hair.

Paige found a grip on her thighs, spreading them wide as she dived deeper into Venus’s cunt. Her nose nudging at the girls clit, sending Venus into a frenzy of moans and whines.

“Paige, oh fuck. Paige!” Her back arching as her hand slipped into the athlete’s blonde hair. Venus’s hand slipped down to her shoulder, making making some sort of attempt to squirm away and get some kind of air back into her lungs.

“Don’t run, baby. You can take it.” Paige murmured, pulling back to push a strand of hair behind her ear, before pulling Venus closer.

“Too much, P.”

“Ion care. Hold your legs up.” She said before going back to her meal.

Paige’s tongue dug deep into Venus’s hole, her left hand spreading her folds open and her right thumb used to add pressure to the girl’s clit. And despite her reluctance to, Venus held her legs open, nails digging into the flesh on her inner thighs as Paige ate her out until she saw stars.

“You taste so good, so fuckin’ good, mama.” Her lips wrapped around Venus’s clit like a straw, sucking and sucking and sucking until the girl’s legs fell from her grasp and shook on the couch cushions. “You not tapping out on me yet, are you?”

“N-No, no— fuck, m’ cummin’—”

Paige nearly laughed, lapping at Venus’s essence with her strong muscle, “I know. C’mon, pretty girl. I gotchu.”

Venus’s orgasm washed over her as she squirted, the inevitable squelching sound of her arousal spraying out of her bounced off the walls of her apartment. Her neighbors by now knew Paige’s name and just how good the blonde had made her cum, with how loud she was moaning.

Spurts of the liquid covered Paige’s face and chest as Venus finally came down from her high. Her legs never stoped shaking because the girl’s tongue never stopped moving, Paige finally worked on cleaning her up. Once her mouth finally detached from Venus’s trembling pussy, she began slow kisses up her body, her hipbones, her abdomen, her sore nipples and decorated neck, before finally connecting their lips.

Venus hummed at her taste off of Paige’s lips. The kiss slow and passionate, completely different than the manner in which they just had sex. Venus licked the girl’s bottom lip tasting herself some more when her tongue clashed against Paige’s.

They were drinking in one another, taking advantage of this opportunity as if anything could take it away. Paige’s hands cupped her face, holding Venus close. She craved her every minute of every day, her body was pulled to Venus like an otherworldly force pushed them together. She lived off of whatever Venus thought of her, she changed the things that Venus despised just to make her happy. Hell, the name Venus ran circles in her head, lived there rent free, and played like a broken record over and over and over again.

“God, I fucking love you, Paige.”

So when she heard those words ring into her ears and be spoken against her lips she nearly passed out.

“Y-you what? What did you just say?”

“Nothing.”

“No. Don’t do that, say it again.” Paige directed, sitting up from her position and looking the girl in her eyes, hands clasped almost permanently on her cheeks. “Say it.”

“I love you?” The sudden confidence had disappeared. Venus was almost sure that she had ruined this, that her admission was gonna make Paige stand up and throw her clothes on and walk right out of her door and her life.

But it didn’t.

Paige had let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding in and connected their lips again, this time in a much shorter exchange.

“I love you too.”

authors note this was the nastiest shit i’ve ever written, i feel like tumblr gives me free range. final part coming whenever i finish it 🌚 might take a lil longer… also thank you guys so much for all the support! it is very much appreciated 🥰

#kalena’s works ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅#paige bueckers #paige bueckers smut #uconn wbb #ncaa wbb #lesbian #wlw smut #oneshots ✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡

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jezabelle9299 · 2 months

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Broken Lungs S.R x FEM!Reader

CWs- Spoilers for season 5, depictions of asthma and use of a nebulizer, mentions of gunshot wounds, and health insurance not covering necessary medication.

Quick Infodump- Oxygen saturation levels should be 95-100%, lower than 93% should seek immediate help from a healthcare professional, and lower than 85% can cause severe damage to the brain because of a lack of oxygen.

Overture: Spencer is recovering from the knee surgery he needed after being shot in the field, when he sees a familiar face in the hospital being treated for an asthma attack.

A/N- This is based on my own experience with asthma, but it's different for everyone, so the relatability may vary with this one. But I was stuck at home all day because of an air quality alert so I did this instead of getting ready for the semester that starts in two weeks.

After one of his worst days in the field, Spencer ended the day in a hospital bed unable to walk. Hotch had been stabbed, and he had been shot. Both would be ok, and they were in separate hospitals to recover. The team alternated who would come to visit, and when. It usually took until the nurses kicked them out at the end of visiting hours, for them to actually leave.

It’d been 2 days since his surgery, and the nurses had given him permission to walk around with his brace, on crutches. He’d never used them before, so he walked around the floor to the nurses’ station to get some more jell-o, and then around the hall back to his room. He allowed his curiosity (or nosiness) to get the better of him, occasionally glancing in at the people with their doors open, giving them a small smile or wave. Until he saw a familiar face.

You’d worked for the FBI for a few years, working on the same floor as the BAU, but you weren’t in the field. You were sitting up in a hospital bed, playing solitaire in one hand, holding what looked like an oxygen mask to your face with the other. You looked up when you felt his eyes on you, and there he was, trapped in the doorway. You’d think you were hallucinating if not for the brace on his knee, and the crutches he was propping himself up on. He didn’t move from the threshold until you gave him a small wave, jumpstarting his movement into your room.

You’d heard about Hotch’s incident, but you weren’t in the office yesterday, and since Spencer’s injury happened later in the day, you had no idea why he was here. You pulled the mask spraying (terrible tasting) medicine into your lungs from your face. You could stop for 30 seconds to see what he was here for.

“Hey Spencer, what–um, what brings you here?” He hesitated, because you’d know since the 5th floor of the FBI building was the most gossip-ridden place he’d seen since high school. Yet he had no idea you’d be here. It’s not even as if you never talked, whenever he was in the office he’d stop by your desk to talk to you. He figured that you hadn’t gotten tired of him yet because he was gone a lot, although in reality you’d never tire of hearing his voice.

“I got shot in the knee, I’ll be fine, the real question is why are you here?” You’re sure it’s on government record, something Garcia could find in two minutes if she looked, but you still didn’t like talking about it. You knew it was stupid to be embarrassed of it, but you couldn’t help it. Every time it got brought up, you felt like the dorky character in a movie carting around their inhaler all the time, the butt of some cosmic joke.

You preferred to think of it as an inconvenience more than anything. It didn’t come up often because you weren’t in the field, and when you needed to use an inhaler, you measured your breathing long enough to get to an empty bathroom or supply closet. You’d just blame the jitters that came after on too much coffee, and no one would ask any questions. This time, the inhaler wasn’t working, the next step in medication, a small machine similar to what you were supposed to be hooked up to now, wasn’t working either. So you drove to the ER feeling like you’d just run 10 miles, and they were making you stay 36 hours to give you stronger medication in intervals.

“No reason.” You didn’t know why you even bothered with that response. Neither did Spencer, tossing you an apathetic look. He knew how squeamish you got when attention was drawn to something that made you look vulnerable, which is why he let it slide every time you walked into a supply closet looking flushed and panicked, with a soundtrack accompanying every time you took a breath, only to come out 5 minutes later with no supplies.

“Ok, really? Why would you even try it, you’re hooked up to a nebulizer and your oxygen saturation is at 90. What happened?” He was using the tone he only ever broke out for interrogations and proving Morgan wrong, but you still wanted to minimize the attention drawn to this not so glamorous piece of your life. You wanted Spencer to see you as someone he could date, even someone he could love, so this was not ideal to the image you’d been trying to show at work.

“I have gross broken lungs. It’s really no big deal.” He laughed, but there was minimal humor behind it. Like he couldn’t even fathom you thinking this was ‘no big deal’.

“I would venture to say you being in the hospital because you were unable to breathe is a very big deal.” While you loved when Spencer got a little bit cocky, you decided it would be more fun to make the little vein in his forehead appear again. So you tossed a vague shrug.

“Well I’d say getting shot is a much bigger deal. So why don’t you sit down, eat your jello, and tell me what happened to you, while I finish this thing.” He couldn’t argue with that, because at the very least he wanted you to feel better and the medicine currently going to waste while you were talking was the only way to accomplish that, so he relented.

He didn’t want to move your things to the floor, but they were occupying the only chair in the room, so he made himself comfortable at the foot of your bed. He always wanted to be closer to you anyway. Setting his crutches next to him and opening the small cup of jello he’d somehow been holding this whole time, he reiterated his answer from before.

“I told you already, I got shot in the knee, went into surgery, and now other than having to use these crutches for a while, I’m fine. Just need to spend a little longer in recovery before I can go back home to minimize the risk of infection.” He took a bite of jell-o just as a show of finality, like there was nothing more to say. Like a gunshot wound was not a huge deal.

The whirr of the machine started to slow down, the medicine sputtering instead of coming out in a steady steam, meaning you could finally be done. You set it on the table by the bed, right next to your abandoned game of solitaire, and as soon as you set it down Spencer’s attention was back on your wellbeing.

“Ok your turn, what happened?”

“I’ve had asthma since I was a kid, and I just got unlucky today. It’s always worse this time of year, and my inhaler wasn’t really doing anything for me. Our health insurance plan doesn’t cover the more expensive meds unless I’m in the hospital, so here I am, for the next 36 hours.” You made a point to turn your exasperated expression into a cheesy smile, hoping to convince him to stay for just a little while longer. “But the bright side is that since you're here I don’t have to play solitaire anymore. That was getting old fast.” You grabbed the cards, giving them a quick shuffle.

“So what do you say Vegas, are you up for a round of poker?” You hoped that would distract him from fussing over you, and luckily it did. He was satisfied you were ok, and the last thing he wanted was to push you too far, and for you to ask him to leave. So he let the smile take over his face.

“Always. But i'm not going to go easy on you just because of your- what did you call them- broken lungs?” That got a good laugh out of you. Admittedly wheezy, but still one of the most beautiful sounds in the world to him.

“Gross, broken lungs. And I wouldn’t dream of it.” You dealt the cards, already knowing you’d lose. You didn’t even know how to play poker. But word around the office was that most of your coworkers wouldn’t play with him since he always won. But you didn’t mind, you mostly just wanted someone to hang out with, and you were overjoyed that person was Spencer. He won, of course. Only gloating a little bit at how badly he beat you, and while you were dealing the second round of cards, you couldn’t help but vocalize what had been in the back of your mind for a few minutes now.

“Hey Spencer, could I ask you a favor?” He had a mix of worry and willingness to help all over his face.

“Anything.”

“Could you–not tell anyone in the office? Just. You know how they are, they would make a fuss about the whole hospital thing and it’s just not necessary.”

“Where do they think you’re going to be for the next day and a half?”

You looked down like a kid who just got caught in a lie. “I kind of told Hotch I had a cold.” Spencer just sighed in response.

“I really do think you should let them fuss over you. You deserve it, and you know Penelope lives for that sort of thing.” That you couldn’t deny, no matter how much you disagreed with him saying you deserved to be cared for.

“Please, Spencer?”

“Alright, but they might walk past your room in the morning. Garcia said she was coming, and you know she’ll drag at least one person along with her.”

“Noted. I’ll close the door in the morning. Thank you Spencer, seriously, it means a lot.” You put your hand over his and it felt like every thought he’d ever had was gone from his brain at your touch. He couldn’t believe his dumb luck at meeting someone like you. Just to be in your orbit, to see and know you, felt like it could only be accomplished by divine intervention. Selfishly, he wished that you’d be staying a little longer, so that you could both leave together. Even more selfishly, he wished that you would leave with him, and come to his apartment. There he could take care of you, make you feel special until he could finally convince you that you deserved it. Deserved everything.

You moved your hand to start tapping it on your leg, and while Spencer knew the side effects of respiratory steroids, he couldn’t help the nagging feeling that something was wrong. That maybe he did something wrong.

“Is there something on your mind?”

“No, it’s just the jitters. I used to get them so bad when I was a kid, my parents would have to practically hold me down. It’s like I have the energy to run a mile, but I can’t actually do it. I’ll calm down in a bit, but I’m probably going to get really rambly first.”

“I’d love to listen to you talk, and I love being on the other side of a ramble.” It was just then that a nurse came in to ask if you were feeling better, charting your vials, reminding you that you need to take your next dose in 4 hours, and telling you that an orderly would be in to set it up then.

Just when she was getting ready to leave she turned her attention to Spencer. “I’m sorry, but I am going to need you to go back to your room Dr. Reid. You both need to get some rest.”

He reluctantly told her that he would and just as soon as he’d come in, he disappeared again. He gave you a wave when he was gathering his crutches, but no real goodbye. You of course waved back, but you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. You really liked him, and you thought maybe he really liked you too. And yet, he only gave you a wave.

All of the adrenaline moving through you, getting you all worked up finally won out, and stupid as it may sound, tears started to prick the corners of your eyes. Just as you closed the door to your room to get some privacy while you cried, your phone started to ring, and you couldn’t help but think; What now? You answered it without looking, and on the other side of the line was the person you wanted to hear from the most.

“So what did you want to talk about? I have all the time in the world.”

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction

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nasa · 1 year

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Roman's primary structure hangs from cables as it moves into the big clean room at NASA's Goddard Space Flight Center.

What Makes the Clean Room So Clean?

When you picture NASA’s most important creations, you probably think of a satellite, telescope, or maybe a rover. But what about the room they’re made in? Believe it or not, the room itself where these instruments are put together—a clean room—is pretty special.

A clean room is a space that protects technology from contamination. This is especially important when sending very sensitive items into space that even small particles could interfere with.

There are two main categories of contamination that we have to keep away from our instruments. The first is particulate contamination, like dust. The second is molecular contamination, which is more like oil or grease. Both types affect a telescope’s image quality, as well as the time it takes to capture imagery. Having too many particles on our instruments is like looking through a dirty window. A clean room makes for clean science!

Two technicians clean the floor of Goddard’s big clean room.

Our Goddard Space Flight Center in Greenbelt, Maryland has the largest clean room of its kind in the world. It’s as tall as an eight-story building and as wide as two basketball courts.

Goddard’s clean room has fewer than 3,000 micron-size particles per cubic meter of air. If you lined up all those tiny particles, they’d be no longer than a sesame seed. If those particles were the size of 16-inch (0.4-meter) inflatable beach balls, we’d find only 3,000 spread throughout the whole body of Mount Everest!

A clean room technician observes a sample under a microscope.

The clean room keeps out particles larger than five microns across, just seven percent of the width of an average human hair. It does this via special filters that remove around 99.97% of particles 0.3 microns and larger from incoming air. Six fans the size of school buses spin to keep air flowing and pressurize the room. Since the pressure inside is higher, the clean air keeps unclean air out when doors open.

A technician analyzes a sample under ultraviolet light.

In addition, anyone who enters must wear a “bunny suit” to keep their body particles away from the machinery. A bunny suit covers most of the person inside. Sometimes scientists have trouble recognizing each other while in the suits, but they do get to know each other’s mannerisms very well.

This illustration depicts the anatomy of a bunny suit, which covers clean room technicians from head to toe to protect sensitive technology.

The bunny suit is only the beginning: before putting it on, team members undergo a preparation routine involving a hairnet and an air shower. Fun fact – you’re not allowed to wear products like perfume, lotion, or deodorant. Even odors can transfer easily!

Six of Goddard’s clean room technicians (left to right: Daniel DaCosta, Jill Bender, Anne Martino, Leon Bailey, Frank D’Annunzio, and Josh Thomas).

It takes a lot of specialists to run Goddard’s clean room. There are 10 people on the Contamination Control Technician Team, 30 people on the Clean Room Engineering Team to cover all Goddard missions, and another 10 people on the Facilities Team to monitor the clean room itself. They check on its temperature, humidity, and particle counts.

A technician rinses critical hardware with isopropyl alcohol and separates the particulate and isopropyl alcohol to leave the particles on a membrane for microscopic analysis.

Besides the standard mopping and vacuuming, the team uses tools such as isopropyl alcohol, acetone, wipes, swabs, white light, and ultraviolet light. Plus, they have a particle monitor that uses a laser to measure air particle count and size.

The team keeping the clean room spotless plays an integral role in the success of NASA’s missions. So, the next time you have to clean your bedroom, consider yourself lucky that the stakes aren’t so high!

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

#cleaning #cleancore #science #NASA #tech #technology

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shiny-jr · 5 months

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damnation (peek VI?)

Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Ortho Shroud, Idia Shroud.

Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.

Note: I was looking back at previous sneak-peeks and I realized I've been kinda spoiling y'all with these. But, don't ever let it be said that I don't cherish y'all, so here you go. While I'm currently about 2/3 of the way towards completing the result (if I don't have to rewrite it or change scenes or do anything major), the sneak-peek is only about eight or nine pages. Which is still a lot when you consider that the end result will be anywhere from 42 to 45 pages. Let's hope that I continue writing at this steady pace. I will not give a date for when this is fully completed, so please don't ask! It's done when it's done.

I . . . II . . . III . . . IV . . . V . . . VI . . . VII

THE LORD OF THE UNDERWORLD

Cold metal. There was a slight weight on the top of your skull, like the heft of a helmet. Carefully reaching up, your fingers touched thin cold metal, but as you tried to gingerly remove it, it failed to come off. Gentle tugs become harsh pulls, but that only serves to form an ache in your head as if you were pulling on your hair. Was it some sort of deadly contraption placed on prisoners? Was this how they wanted you to die? By crushing your skull with this thing?

“Wh– Where am I…?”

As you stumbled over your own two feet, you stopped yanking on the metal on top of your cranium. Fear took root as you took note of your surroundings, dark and unfamiliar, those same qualities as the jail cell but this was unlike any prison. There were high walls with columns of gray and silver and gold, arched ceilings that were mixes of blues and grays and blacks which almost looked like painted murals that had been smeared across the surface. The floor was freezing like cement, but it was a smooth polished dark gray. With at least two floors, the second was accessible by some wide curved stairs which lead to more of the unknown. Your voice echoed in the space, leaving you to believe you were completely alone.

Skull-crushing could still be on the list of possible ways to die. Or would your punishment be isolation? Complete solitude was known to drive people insane. It didn’t even seem like a single soul alive was here, leaving only the sound of your heavy breathing in the otherwise unsettling silence. White flowers from large vases wilted, their petals suspended gray and limp like hanged bodies.

On the floors you nearly slip and hit your head, but you manage to grab a nearby column that was as thick and sturdy as an old oak tree. That’s when you caught sight of your reflection in a nearby huge vase coated with a reflective exterior. You were staring wide-eyed at an unfamiliar figure, so odd that it took a moment to register that it was truly you.

A long black cloth with dark blue meander borders acted like a shirt or a robe, wrapping over one shoulder and extending in different directions to act like a small cloak and cover part of your legs. From your hips to your ankles covered by part of the top cloth, were a pair of black pants with more blue meander borders decorating it. They were like modern day sweatpants and an ancient palla all in one outfit, which you might’ve admired if you weren’t currently filled with confusion and dread. That metal object on your head was like a headpiece, with two long thin black protruding pieces slicked back that glowed a slight blue. Like a demon’s horns. Impossible to remove.

You resembled a demon with these horns, a devilish little imp. When your eyes adjusted, the reflective surface of the vase was painted. Painted black and browns, like the famous Athenian ceramic styles with figures of black and brick red. Except, each vase depicted a different scene. A powerful muscled figure standing proudly and holding a bolt of lightning; a baby strangling two large snakes; a young scrawny man training beside a satyr and a pegasus.

“Get– these off…!”

An imp… you were an imp! Horror spread across your features, and the constant tugging to remove the metallic horn-like objects from your skull served pain stronger than a slap, to let you know that this was no dream. The judges had cast the final verdict, and as soon as you arrived you were destined to live as a miserable little creature to serve a higher being. A god.

A God of the Underworld, that wielded the deadliest of blue flames and kept all souls contained within his land of misery. A being of divinity who envied his family and others who dwelled high in the clouds of Mount Olympus, so he planned meticulously for years to lay siege to the mountain by freeing titans who would wreak havoc across the globe. Just as he sits on the throne where the God of Thunder and King of Gods once dwelled, the human son of that royal god arrived to face the dark god. That gloomy and dreary antagonistic god had three main underlings, two of which were imps he regularly abused and tormented.

Maiming, wringing their necks, burning them in blue fire, those were just some of the torture those imps faced at the hands of their master. You felt yourself fall to your knees in a heap, like a rag doll, by the overwhelming emotions weighing in your mind and the now new burden of survival on your shoulders. This was hell, literally. So caught up with this newfound revelation, that you didn’t even notice the vases become blank as if by magic, wiping the depicted scenes off their surface. Hallucinations!

These must’ve been hallucinations formed by your unstable mind–– You were especially sure of it when it felt as if the ground vanished beneath your feet and were surrounded by dark mists. The dark and elegant place you had once stood in, was gone, and you plunged into a dark pit. A small plunge, then you fell on rocky uneven earth, leading you to fall flat on your face. There was hardly any light, and the ceiling was low. But, there was a blue flame, a small glow to which you opened your eyes to.

In front of you was a young boy that looked more akin to an android. Surely, another illusion, but your certainty wavered when it blinked at you. It blinked with its wide bright yellow eyes. Its eyes were like a light, as was its hair made of what seemed like real blue flames that was like a torch in this small cave. Its body was dark and metallic, part of those metals extending over the mouth like a mask. “There you are! I was beginning to wonder if you chickened out. Are you ready to put on a show? Remember, we gotta make it believable, the hero won’t be the only one there! We gotta trick all the humans!”

“W-What…?” You watched as the android-like being opened up a hologram in front of him, and on the screen of light were various shapes and figures of numerous creatures and people alike.

Whatever this thing was, its voice became monotone for a brief few seconds as its pointer finger landed on the image of a normal young boy. “Selecting… Loading… Finalizing appearance.” In an instant, a light flashed over him and he became that little boy in the hologram. “What do you think? Pretty convincing, huh? Now, your turn!”

If you squint, it was like peering through glass, because at some angles you could still see the android. However, you had absolutely no time to question it, or the situation at hand, or what he could’ve possibly meant, because the quiet was shattered by the squeal of what sounded like a horse.

Scrambling onto your feet, you approached the thin tiny opening where light filtered in, far too small to squeeze through but just big enough to peer through. It took a few spare seconds for your eyes to adjust to the light of the outside on this cloudy day, but you could make out high rock cliffs as gray as the sky. And a white horse with wings, a pegasus, several meters away with two people. A young man in purple who looked quite ruffled and a muscular woman with auburn locks. You blanched upon recognizing the location.

The mighty hero was said to have fought his first life-threatening battle in a gorge, just like this one. It was a battle that nearly cost him his life. The human servant, obliged to serve the dark Lord of the Underworld, lured the hero to the gorge under the guise of an accident requiring urgent attention from a savior. When in actuality, the accident involved two children trapped under rubble where nearby the hydra lurked. And those two children? Were the two imps who also served the God of the Dead. One imp, you were one. And the other? Beside you now, which explained his matching metallic horns on his head. Meaning the hydra was near. Each breath you took increased in pace, on the very verge of hyperventilating––

“Help! Hurry! We can’t breathe!” The android boy cried for help, his little eyes peeking out of the same gap you were peering out of. Even his voice sounded different with whatever magic or technology he used to disguise himself. As the hero was running over and a crowd was forming a good distance away, your fellow imp looked at you and whispered in confusion, “Where’s your disguise? You can’t let her see––”

“Get me out…!! Please! Anyone! Someone!” You gasped, suddenly realizing just how small it was underneath this massive boulder. It was a miracle it hadn’t crashed down yet, killing you instantly like rock squishing an ant. But if the boulder didn’t kill you, then the hydra would. And that was what terrified you, causing you to scream for help.

The young boy’s eyes brightened up, looking a bit taken aback at your volume before he grinned. At least, he must’ve been grinning, judging by the way his eyes lit up. Pausing his very loud pleas, he whispered in amazement, “Wow, you’re really good at this acting!”

You were not acting. Especially not when help arrived in the form of the protagonist.

Instead of a man as depicted in the stories, it was a woman. A woman with innocent blue eyes and a kind voice that attempted to ease the worries of what she must’ve thought were two poor victims trapped beneath debris from a rock slide. Her eyes darted from what she saw as a regular little boy, then over to you. “It’s okay, I promise you’ll be alright.” Those eyes like the bright blue sky, softened with a hint of pity, maybe because you just looked that pitiful and on the verge of tears. Because you knew what monster would come lurking from the gorge just moments after you and the small horned being beside you are supposed to be saved.

Incredibly, with only a minimal amount of struggling, the hero heaved the boulder slowly above her head. Even though the rock was easily ten times her size, she raised it up high above her shoulders, allowing you and the boy to scamper out of the pit. Managing a charming smile despite the tons of weight she was holding, she began, “How are you holding up? Are you injured or––”

Running. You were running. There was no way you would waste even a second here, and become a victim to that three-headed beast. It sounded like the hero had shouted something as you fled, and were followed by the android boy still in disguise as he called for you to wait up. Climbing, climbing, you took what looked like a thin path on a narrow cliff’s edge until you reached a hollow cavity hidden by shadows and boulders. By then you were out of breath, heaving, the ache in the back of your legs screaming from all that climbing and your lungs burning.

However, it seemed as if your torment were far from over. As your gaze traveled up, you stilled like a deer in the headlights. There, engraved within the very surface of the rugged stone walls, was a mausoleum that appeared to be left abandoned. Its smooth columns held up ledges, and at the very mouth of the entrance was a throne of pure stone occupied by a stranger. A stranger that looked eerily similar to the android that had been your company.

A figure who sat looking quite bored upon witnessing a mortal with inhuman strength. There were no words, but just by appearance alone you knew that this was the divine god that ruled the underworld. Fire, blue fire, ran from the top of his head down his spine and over thin shoulders. He was covered from neck to toe, completely in robes of dark blues and dull grays. Long sleeves with meander patterns extended to his wrist, and even his bony fingers were pitch black either due to the fabric of a glove or it was his actual skin, you couldn’t tell. The himation, the cloth that pooled on the floor at his feet, was pinned by a brooch resembling a skull.

Chilling yellow eyes leered down at you, his blue lips pulled back slightly in a grimace to reveal unnaturally sharp teeth on his pale face. Under his judgemental gaze, you felt like a miserable little roach scuttering about underfoot. “This isn’t a theater, and you’re not Dionysus, tryhard. That was major overkill. You screamed so much I heard you loud and clear from all the way up here, pretty sure all those humans heard you.”

In the blink of an eye, the android’s disguise was gone and he floated beside you. Placing a gentle but cold metallic hand on your back, he eagerly piped up, “I think they did really good, brother!” Brother? The god, the villain of this story, was his brother? Well certainly the resemblance was there between the god and the being in the role of the imp. “Did you see the look on the hero’s face, Idia? By my estimations, the act fooled all mortal onlookers!”

Brother. But… that couldn’t be possible. Now that you were high up beside the god, Idia is what your partner in crime had called him, you were no longer so fearful of immediately becoming the hydra’s next meal. That wouldn’t happen, especially when according to the story, the lord of the underworld was the one who controlled the hydra. But now you were currently more concerned and fearful of the literal divine being sitting in front of you. The lord’s brothers were only supposed to be other gods from Mount Olympus, not a being that served him. What else was different about the story? More importantly, what would he do to you once he realized that you did not belong?

“Okay, fine. Stirring performance gets five stars from me. Definitely better than that uber cringe Oedipus play that came out a while back. Ortho, nice, you really played the cute little kid you gotta feel for, and you…” Idia directed his attention to you, and you froze in place under his gaze as he sized you up. “You actually weren’t that annoying this time. So congrats, I guess.” He added dismissively, apparently bored with this prelude as the crowd of humans down below continued to clap for the protagonist that had just saved two souls from the boulders in the gorge. Then, his gaze traveled over to the shadows, on a small cliff where a figure you hadn’t even noticed had been standing in silence. “And can’t forget you. A thumbs-up for the leading guy. Even a girl like her can’t resist you, huh, Meg? Talk about pretty privilege. It must be nice.”

Startled slightly by the new presence, you glanced over, spotting a slightly familiar face looking over the cliff. It was that man who had been accompanying the protagonist. A fairly handsome looking man with brown wavy hair, in a purple chiton and baggy loose gray pants. Again, there was that modern style mixed with ancient, making you question what time this took place in. But that question was so insignificant compared to the rest of your worries, that it would be pushed to the very back of your mind.

Looking from Meg to Idia, you compare the two faces. The God of the Underworld certainly wasn’t ugly, per say. In fact, he was ethereal in his own unique way. It was more of an acquired taste to appreciate the slight cheekbones, the aquiline nose, and the dim glow his fire blue hair provided in the dark space. He wasn’t exactly the beauty standard that could be compared to a warm summer day, but cold rainy nights could be just as beautiful.

“What are you staring at? Can you not? Seriously, don’t you know that’s rude?” The god muttered in a near sneer, his gaze unable to meet yours. In fact, he appeared to be looking anywhere but at you. Like he was nervous. But what would a god have to be nervous about? “When I leave home, I’d rather not be gawked at like some freak. I don’t need another reminder.”

Embarrassment caused your heat to creep up your neck and into your cheeks as you lowered your head swiftly in an apologetic nod. With your eyes now glued to the ground, you didn’t lift your head even an inch. It was a mercy that he didn’t appear to be a wrathful god. Cruel, perhaps, but apparently not quick to violence. If he was the hostile type, the last thing you would probably see was his calming blue fire turn an angry red before your body became nothing but ashes in the wind and your soul joining the countless in the river of the dead. In an effort to appease him so he wouldn’t believe you were staring for the wrong reasons, you began hesitantly, in a nervous tone, “I-I’m sorry–– I was staring because, well, you talk as if y-you didn’t have that specific privilege either.”

Because you kept your head down, you failed to see all three of them, Ortho, Idia, and even Meg whipped his head around to stare with their own forms of shock as you snapped your mouth shut. There was no room to question what was said and done.

“Not funny, didn’t laugh. I had no idea the role of jester was just taken up. Last I knew, we had that position available. Guess I was wrong.” He replied, unamused, and surprisingly not offended. At least he didn’t seem as if he was about to smite you for offending a god. It was jarring how lax he was, but he spoke with bitter sarcasm which actually hurt. “If I wanted a laugh, I’d probably watch you snivel and cry again, but honestly it’s way more pathetic than funny so there’s really no point in it unless I want to remind myself that there’s someone within a ten foot radius who’s giving me a run for my money in the pity department.”

“I don’t think any of you are pathetic or pitiful.” Ortho chimed in, throwing in his two cents on the matter. To which the god only glanced at. “Shall I search our records for the soul of a successful jester? I believe we may have a few that once served kings in past centuries?”

With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the motion while propping up his elbow on the armrest of the stone throne. “Nah, don’t bother, none of them are that funny anyways. It’s not worth the effort of fishing them out of the river of souls. Once we secure our win, then maybe I’ll consider it when Thalia runs out of jokes to tell.”

Thalia? Wasn’t that the name of one of the muses? Did he plan to use those divine beings as servants once he conquered Mount Olympus?

“Uh, you can scram now? I know your soul is probably drawn to the company of other mortals like pretty-boy Meg over there and that schlemiel Heraclea.” Idia scoffed, looking a bit bitter. Although, maybe that was his natural expression along with the constant gloom that seemed to permanently linger around the divine being. He rolled his eyes, murmuring the word so it sounded like an insult, “Mortals.”

“T-Then… I’ll talk to Meg.”

#yandere #ortho shroud #idia shroud #twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twst writing #work in progress #damnation twst au

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l0vedoe · 7 months

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Yandere!Lucifer X GN!Reader

Hi! My name is Kay, and it's my first time posting something on Tumblr (I don't know how to use this)

I've been really obsessed with Lucifer and I saw a Yandere!Lucifer fanfic that I loved a lot, but sadly there's no part 2 :( So, I decided I would write MY OWN Yandere!Lucifer fanfic! (Also without a part 2..) Here is the one I got inspired by! So, have fun! <3

Sorry if it's a little weird at first, english is not my first language and I'm still learning it!

Part 2 here!

Words: 3787

Synopsis: Your friends found a ritual that can bring Lucifer to your world and, unfortunately, you accepted to participate.

You were sitting on a pile of cushions with your arms crossed, not believing what you and your friends were doing.

A few days ago, one of your friends, Lesley, had found a ritual that could summon Lucifer, the King of Hell, into the human world. You knew that your group of friends were obsessed with those sobrenatural things, ghosts and anything with horror involved. You liked it too, but among them, you were the only one who didn't enjoy getting directly involved with these things. You liked the trivia, the facts, the stories you heard on the internet, but participate in rituals? Ha! No, certainly no. You were sensible enough to know that you shouldn't be messing with these things, whether you believed in them or not. You weren't scared, you just didn't want to disturb whatever exists out there.

Even though you didn't like the idea, you accepted, not knowing why though. Maybe it was because your friends kept insisting...

And there you were, in a dark room in an abandoned house that Lesley had found so that you all could perform the ritual.

You watched your friends as they prepared everything. One of them was making a large pentagram on the floor, while another was placing six candles around it. As soon as they had finished, the three of them stood inside the pentagram, looking at you as if that was all that was missing - and it was.

"Come on, you agreed to do it, remember?" Lesley says, holding out his hand to you.

"Unfortunately."

You said, standing next to your friends.

Lesley took a needle from his pocket and pierced everyone's finger, letting them each drip their own blood onto the pentagram below. Gab, your friend on your left, held out a lighter so that you could light the candles one by one. As soon as you had finished, you all left the pentagram and the atmosphere became more tense.

This couldn't turn out good.

"Lucifer, lord of the red skies, hear my sublime call, show us your true power and appear in this circle!"

When Lesley finished speaking, silence prevailed in the room... for a long time. Since you came here you believed it wouldn't work, but your friends really believed it would, so they were all very disappointed when they saw that nothing happened.

As soon as you thought to say something, the pentagram glowed in a gold so bright that it didn't seem real. It glowed so brightly that if you looked at it for too long, you would surely lose your sight, so you all looked away until the light ceased, and it did. With your vision still blurred, you turned to face the pentagram again and sighed in shock.

There, in the middle of the pentagram, was a short, blond man with pale skin. His eyes were yellow, his teeth were sharp and there was a red circle on each cheek. His clothing appeared to be of high quality and class, a red shirt covered by a white jacket with veiled details, matching his pants in the same color. His hat was also white, with a red band, a golden crown, an apple and a golden snake. A lot of information in a single hat, to be honest.

The man looked confused and annoyed as, with one hand, he was dusting his clothes.

Not only you, but all your friends looked at the man with admiration and amazement. “It worked..." they all thought.

No one said anything, they were too surprised to be able to formulate a single sentence.

"I knew Lucifer was a fallen angel, but I thought the fall would have affected his appearance?"

You say, analyzing the whole figure of the creature in front of you. He was pretty, you had to say.

Lucifer sighed, looking extremely bored with the situation.

"I thought no one knew the summoning ritual anymore, but it seems I was wrong." he says, looking at everyone in the room. "So...?"

He waits, with a judgmental look on his face.

Lesley wakes up from her thoughts and starts talking frantically.

"Oh, Great Lord Lucifer, King of Hell!" Lesley bows, followed by all her friends too, except you. Lucifer smiles. He liked those nicknames. "We're really, really sorry to bother you. We were just curious about whether this ritual would work or not, we didn't want anything to do with you."

Lucifer rolls his eyes. Of course, he had to have been summoned by a bunch of curious mortals...

"You see, I was taking care of very important things when you summoned me, and I am unable to return to my duties unless one of you makes a deal with me." Lucifer gestured his hand gracefully in the air as he spoke. You had to admit: the real devil was not at all what you expected. You expected a tall, red-skinned, goat-legged creature with long horns and a tail, but this...? It was laughable.

But of course you didn't laugh.

Lucifer turned his gaze on you, giving you goosebumps. His gaze on you was something you had never felt before, and it scared you. He was a shorty man and yet he was making you afraid of what might happen to you if you stepped in the wrong place.

You swallowed.

"I'm waiting!" Lucifer raised his voice, making everyone shiver. "Which one of you is willing to make a deal with me, hm...?"

Lucifer had an amused smile on his face as he analyzed each individual in the room. One shaking his legs, another trying to look away, another thinking about what to do to get rid of the blond man and, finally, you, who even though you were afraid, didn't seem to be letting your guard down. You looked at Lucifer with courage, and Lucifer liked that. He really did. When was the last time he saw someone like you? A long time ago, that's for sure. Most of the humans who ended up meeting Lucifer, willingly or by accident, used to be so scared and afraid that they would sometimes beg Lucifer to let them live with their souls in peace.

Souls... Lucifer never cared, really. Most of his deals didn't involve receiving the souls of humans in return, he had no interest in that, he just asked for anything that came to mind. Most of the time, something very silly. He didn't even like making deals with humans, it’s just time he wastes to satisfy the will of mortals.

Seeing that no one would take the initiative, he decided to do it for them.

"Since you guys won't make up your minds, leave it to me. Eeny-meeny-miney..." Lucifer began to choose, and when you saw that he was going to end up with one of your friends, you interrupted him. "Hm?"

"I'll make a deal with you if that's what it takes for you to leave us alone."

Lucifer smiles. He was loving your attitude.

"Are you crazy? You shouldn't do that! He is going to take your soul!" Lesley tried to warn you, worried about you.

"At least it'll help you not to mess with things like that again."

You say harshly, stepping closer to Lucifer.

So that's what you were afraid of? It was nothing new for Lucifer.

"All right, then. What's your name, dear?" Lucifer says, approaching you.

Everyone was looking at you worried and afraid. You liked your friends, but they were the kind who fucked up and left it to you so you could resolve things. Always.

"What do you want? My soul? Possession of my body?" You ignore the question the blond man made, leaving him a little frustrated, but without showing it.

He laughs.

"No, no, no! I don't care about these things, really!" He puts his hand on his chin and closes his eyes, seeming to think deeply, until he snaps his fingers, thinking of something. "Oh, I know! You're going to dance for me dressed as a duckling!"

You look at him with a mixture of confusion and disgust. Was this really the King of Hell that everyone was so afraid of?! You hold in your laughter.

"All right." You reach out to shake his hand, but he interrupts.

"Don't you know how deals work, darling?" he asks in a mocking tone, amused. "You need to tell me what you want in return."

"Oh, is that so?" you ask and he shakes his head positively. Actually, there was nothing you really wanted, you just wanted him to go away and for you to be able to come home soon. You should never have agreed to take part in that. "Oh, I don't know, man... give me a chocolate cake and we'll be fine."

Lucifer laughs softly. You seemed as bored as he was, and your boredom amused him too much.

He grabs your hand, and you automatically felt your casual clothes change into a yellow jumpsuit with a hood that had a duckling face on it.

You sighed. What a humiliation.

You danced a children's dance that you learned as a child, and you could see how Lucifer was enjoying it, his eyes shining, his cheeks reddening and a smile on his face. He clapped his hands frantically.

When you finished your dance, he sighed, snapped his fingers and your clothes returned to normal. A second later, you were holding a plate with a chocolate cake on it. It looked delicious.

"It was a great deal. I hope I never see you again!" Lucifer said, finally disappearing into a golden dust.

Your friends were wide-eyed and dumbfounded. They gave you a quick lecture on how you could have used that deal to get anything and you decided on a chocolate cake. You could ask for thousands of dollars, you could ask to have whatever you wanted, have as much power as you wanted, and you still decided on a chocolate cake?!

You didn't care, saying goodbye and making your way home while holding your chocolate cake. You were sure to devour it as soon as you sat down on your couch.

After that incident, your days went by as normal. You wake up, go to work, come home, go to sleep. Wake up, work, come home, sleep.

It was a routine you got used to, and it was good to be used to things, you weren't the type who liked new things.

However, after a week or so of performing that ritual and summoning Lucifer, you began to feel strange. You felt watched almost all the time, it was uncomfortable even to take a shower and this was something that was really bothering you. You've never been sensitive to these things, what was going on?!

In addition to the feeling of being watched, you also began to see figures out of the corner of your eye and hear voices calling you. You could have sworn you were going crazy, it wasn't normal.

You sent a message to Lesley, telling him what you were feeling. Lesley didn't care much.

Lesley Bff: idk, it must be in your head

Lesley Bff: I felt that way too during my first ritual

Lesley Bff: but you know what?

Lesley Bff: Lucifer could be watching you 👻

You laughed.

You: if he's not back in his hole, I'll send him back there myself

Lesley could be right. You've never taken part in a ritual before, so maybe it affected you more than you expected.

You sigh, smiling at the thought of being anything else. "How silly..."

You head for the kitchen to get some water. Opening the fridge, you take out your jug of water and fill a glass with the liquid, putting the jug away again.

As you bring the glass to your lips, you notice a blond man on the other side of the dining table.

You continue to drink your water.

Wait...

You spit out the water, looking back to the front and no longer seeing the man there.

"I need therapy…" you say, putting a hand to your forehead.

"Everyone needs it, dear." When you hear the familiar voice, you're startled and turn around so fast that you drop your glass on the floor, shattering it. "Wow... Do you get that excited just by seeing me?" The blond smiles debauchedly.

"What the fuck..." that's all you managed to say. "I didn't summon you, damn it! Get the fuck out of here!"

You demand, making the demon in front of you laugh.

"It's that way of yours that made me fall in love with you!" he says, still laughing.

What?

You look Lucifer up and down with disgust. How strange was it to have a religious figure, who you believed existed only in your imagination until a week ago, tell you that he's in love with you? Answer: very. ABSURDLY.

"Dude, I don't want any trouble, just do me a favor and leave."

You say, calmly, but Lucifer didn't seem to hear. His smile remained on his face, it seemed to grow with every detail he appreciated about you. It was as if he was hypnotized. You could notice his pupils dilating and his cheeks starting to turn pink.

He moves closer, making you take a step back to keep your distance.

"I'm afraid I can't…" he said, still smiling, but now without showing his teeth and without looking you in the eye. He was analyzing your body, your baggy white T-shirt, your plaid pajama pants and your matching slippers.

Your posture was as if you were ready to run at any moment. Lucifer noticed, after all, he didn't want you to run from him. Why would you run from him?

He took a step forwards, coming closer again, and that was the exact moment you knew you had to run. You weren't an idiot, you ran, you ran as if your life depended on it and, at that moment, it really did.

As you climb the stairs to the second floor of your house, you enter your bedroom and lock the door. You didn't think it would help much since your enemy was a demon who could easily teleport to where you were, but you still did what was possible at the time.

Trying to think of many ways to make the demon go away and get you out of this, you are interrupted by a voice on the other side of the door.

"Darling, please..." the voice was sly. "I don't want to hurt you, I just want to talk to you..."

You didn't trust him. You couldn't trust him. He was the fucking devil!

You didn't answer, and a silence remained. You tried to look through the keyhole, to make sure he was no longer there and you could finally get out. As soon as you put your hand on the handle to open the door, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You automatically turned round and punched Lucifer in the face.

"Get away from me!" You screamed, and before you could run away again, golden chains wrapped around you, preventing you from moving. "What the...!"

"Look..." Lucifer begins, caressing the cheek you punched. "I just want to talk, that's all."

You didn't want to listen, you were just trying to free yourself from the chains that bound you.

Lucifer continued.

"Your attitude that day captivated me, and I found it so attractive how you didn't show any fear. Not to mention, of course, that your dancing was incredible." he smiled. "I couldn't help myself and started watching you ever since. I couldn't stop thinking about you for a second. I've spent the last few days just watching you from hell. I've watched you sleep, you eat, you work, you shower..."

This last part seemed to have had a different effect on Lucifer.

Until now, you really believed that you could escape him, but as soon as you realized that it was impossible to free yourself from the chains, your body withered. You knew there was nothing you could do.

Even so, indignation and confusion overwhelmed you. What was this guy saying? In love with you? Really?

You looked at Lucifer angrily, while he looked at you as if you were all he wanted.

"I've been so lonely these last few years, and as soon as I started watching you I wanted to be with you even more and more..." he said, hugging himself and looking at random corners as if he was fantasizing about a thousand different things. "So I give you the honor of moving in with me! In hell!"

You widened your eyes. That couldn't be real. It couldn't.

Lucifer, the fallen angel, wanted you to live with him in hell?

You laughed. Of course it was a joke. If you accepted, he would steal your soul and you wouldn't be free for anything else. Yes, that had to be it. It was a way of persuading you, tricking you, so that he could get what he wanted.

You took a deep breath, recovering from your laughter, and kept your eyes on Lucifer's hopeful gaze.

"No!" you said, loud and clear.

You didn't want another deal, you didn't want to go to hell, you didn't want Lucifer! You just wanted to get back to enjoying your holiday peacefully watching whatever was on TV, you didn't want anything new.

Hearing you refuse, Lucifer's expression changed from a smile to disappointment. He couldn't believe it. Why were you turning him down? He was the King of Hell, he could make you powerful like him, give you anything you wanted! What was stopping you from accepting?

"Why?! I can give you anything you want! Power, money, comfort and lots of chocolate cake! Please accept it..." he looked sad, but deep down he hoped you would say yes. "I love you..."

His last words made you even angrier. The devil himself was confessing to you, you no longer feared him.

"But I don't love you! I want to get away from you, your hell and everything that surrounds you! I don't want power, I don't want money, I want you to go away!"

You scream, spitting out the words with hatred, not even caring what the blond guy might feel. You couldn't stand it any longer, the chains were tightening your body with each passing minute, you just wanted to go back to your normal life, without demons, without rituals, without anything weird.

You noticed Lucifer with his head down, quiet, and wondered if now he would accept it and leave you alone. Unfortunately, he wouldn't.

As soon as he raised his face, you noticed his eyes filled with a bright red colour, his horns began to appear from his head and his tail appeared behind him. Clearly, he was very angry, and now you felt genuine fear of what might happen to you now.

He began to smile, a fearsome smile that showed his sharp teeth.

His voice was slightly distorted. The chains squeezed you tighter and tighter.

"I am Lucifer, King of Hell, and it is not you who will change that." he approached, still smiling. "I can do whatever I want, and I want you, and I'm going to have you, whether you like it or not."

With those words, the chains disappear and you fall to the ground in pain. They were already suffocating you.

As soon as you calmed down, you looked up to find Lucifer staring down at you without smiling now. He snapped his fingers, forming a portal beneath the two of you.

Before you could fall, Lucifer caught you. You had your eyes closed, afraid to open them and see what you feared. You only felt Lucifer holding you until he finally stopped on the ground and released you. You open your eyes and realize you're in a spacious room, with a large bed with crisp sheets. The walls were dark, as was the floor. There were several pictures of Lucifer with a beautiful woman and a little girl and lots of rubber duckies scattered around the room.

You looked out of a window to see the red sky on the other side.

You were in hell, alone with the angel who had fallen from heaven, with no idea how to get home.

You despair, your breathing quickens and becomes heavy, cold sweat begins to run down your face. You turn around and find Lucifer taking off his jacket and hat and settling down in the bedroom.

You keep your distance as he starts to approach with that same smile as before, until you slam your back against a wall, making it easier for him, who could now approach you.

He came close, standing inches away. His hand caressed your left cheek, while the other took your right hand, bringing it to his lips so that he could kiss it.

"Let me go…" you plead, your eyes filling with tears.

Lucifer looks at you, smiling even more.

"No." he says, in the same tone you used when you told him that. "I tried to make it as friendly as possible, but you wouldn't co-operate. How could I keep the person I love close if I didn't force you to stay here with me?"

"This is not love...!" you say, without looking at him.

"It's your idea of love that's wrong, darling..." Lucifer's face moves closer to yours, his hand still caressing your cheek. "That love you humans appreciate doesn't exist, it never did. Love where the two live happily ever after only exists when one of the people involved makes it happen. And that's exactly what I am doing right now..."

He kisses the corner of your mouth, and you shiver at the touch of his lips.

Why you? What was so different about you that Lucifer needed it to be you? Since Lesley came with that, you knew it wasn't a good idea to do that ritual, you'd never done such things just because you knew it was never a good idea. You didn't want to mess with whatever was out there because you knew you could end up in trouble, and yet you agreed to take part in that damn ritual...

Look at the state you're in now: being forced to be Lucifer's prisoner.

"Don't worry, it won't be so bad." Lucifer says, now hugging you and putting his face into your chest.

You wanted to cry, scream, punch Lucifer until you couldn't, but you were afraid of what might happen if you did. You remained silent, cried silently, without moving a muscle.

Once again, your friends fucked up with things and you had to deal with it.

Just a quick reminder: This is just a fanfic, I don't like the idea of a yandere in real life. In real life, this is crazy and toxic, I don't support that.

So, if you guys liked it, let me know! You can also ask for me to write something about Lucifer again (I'm not doing other characters yet).

Thanks for reading! <3

#lucifer morningstar #Lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel #yandere lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel imagine #gn reader #hazbin hotel x reader

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vanteguccir · 6 months

Text

── ୨୧ !　𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗞 𝗡𝗢𝗪

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where it's Y/N's wedding day, but Matt isn't the groom. During the ceremony, an act of impulse on the boy's part changes the fate of everything.

WARNING: Slightly angst, but with a happy ending!

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The cool orange color of the corner lamp lightly illuminated the walls of Matt's room, painting the room with a serene aura. He was still in his bed, mentally preparing himself to get up and start the day slowly, his thoughts still hazy from sleep, a low voice reminding him of the tasks he had to do - writing the script for the next video, answering emails, and posting his collaboration with Prada.

For a moment, he allowed himself to bask in the feeling of tranquility, but that peace was abruptly interrupted when the sound of his bedroom door slamming open echoed through the walls.

Matt turned abruptly to the source of the sound, frowning and opening his mouth to curse whoever had barged into his room so suddenly, but the words caught in his throat when he saw Nick standing there, his eyes wide and his hand holding an envelope tightly.

"Nick, what the fuck?" Matt's voice sounded hoarse and rough from lack of use as his eyes traveled from Nick's face to the envelope and back again.

"Matt... It's from Y/N." Nick muttered apprehensively.

The boy sat down abruptly on the mattress when he heard his ex name, watching Nick slowly approaching and leaving the envelope on the crumpled comforter that covered the younger boy's legs.

"I don't know what it's about, I just found it on the floor in front of the front door."

Matt took the paper delicately, a feeling of apprehension growing in his chest as he recognized Y/N's elegant handwriting on the sender, his own name, and his brother's in the recipient field. His mind wondered why she had sent that, who even sends letters through mail in 2024?

With shaking hands, he tore open the envelope and removed the paper inside, barely noticing Nick's silent exit. His heart sank when he noticed that it wasn't just any paper. It was an invitation... a wedding invitation.

The words printed in embossed letters and in gold color on high quality paper, announcing the day she would become the wife of her current boyfriend, or rather, fiancé.

An overwhelming mix of emotions hit him head-on. Matt gasped, holding the invitation as if it were a precious artifact, but also a knife that pierced his heart. He could feel the bitter taste of regret filling his mouth as his memories with Y/N flooded his mind.

He found himself transported back to the happy days when they were together, each moment shining in vivid colors before his eyes. The shared laughter, the hugs on cold or hot nights, the whispered promises of eternal love... Everything seemed so close, and yet so far away.

Tears threatened to flood his eyes as he struggled to process the magnitude of the situation. He bitterly regretted letting Y/N go, letting his insecurities and fears ruin what they shared. He knew he had no one else to blame but himself for his own loneliness.

A violent internal struggle unfolded within the boy. A part of him wanted to throw the invitation through the window, refuse to witness the ceremony that would tear him up even more inside. But another part, a stubborn and masochistic part, insisted on attending, as if seeing Y/N unite with another man was the punishment he deserved for his failures.

Matt clutched the invitation tightly in his hand, lightly crumpling the expensive paper, feeling fragile and broken. Every beat of his heart echoed with the weight of a decision he didn't know if he was capable of making. He felt the weight of loss pressing down on his shoulders, the pain of a wound that never seemed to heal.

Silent tears streamed down his cheeks as he fought his emotions in turmoil. He loved Y/N more than anything in this world, and even though he had already lost her the day he saw her walk through his bedroom door for the last time, he still held on to the narrow thread of hope he had in him, but now he was in danger of losing her forever, and it tormented him to the core of his soul.

With an anguished sigh, Matt finally let out a choked sob, pressing his hand against his mouth to muffle the ugly sounds, quickly glancing at the door left ajar by Nick. The last thing he wanted was to worry his brothers.

He knew he had no choice but to face the painful reality that Y/N would move on without him. He wished, with all his being, that things could have been different, that he could go back in time and right the wrongs he had made.

But now, all he could do was accept the invitation he held in his trembling hand and prepare to witness the love of his life being given to someone else.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Matt took a deep breath as he, along with his brothers, entered the imposing church where Y/N's wedding was about to take place. The decor details seemed to jump out, a lush fusion of fresh flowers - Y/N's favorite - and delicate fabrics, creating a fairytale atmosphere, exactly as he and Y/N had fantasized about for so many nights.

The rows of chairs were lined up precisely, each adorned with a floral arrangement. Matt watched the carefully planned details, feeling a pang in his heart.

As he rotated his gaze around the space, his eyes met Y/N's parents accompanied by her fiancé, who was already looking back at the triplets. Matt's eyes widened slightly when he noticed the man open a gentle smile towards him, a strange feeling of resignation and envy flooding him almost automatically.

Victor, who he saw so much of only through Y/N's social media, was tall, with slightly curly brown hair that shone in the light, and vibrant blue eyes that seemed to reflect genuine joy. Matt couldn't help but notice how he perfectly fit the stereotype of the type of man Y/N always seemed to prefer - an observation that left a sour taste in his mouth.

The boy wondered if Y/N really had a specific type or if it was just a coincidence that he and her fiancé shared similar characteristics.

He forced himself to look away, his mind a mess of conflicting emotions and his heart screaming that he should just turn around and go back home. With a resigned sigh, Matt followed his brothers as they found their assigned seats.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Matt's heart was in turmoil as he anxiously awaited the long-awaited moment of the bride's entrance. His eyes darted nervously around the church, his breath caught in his throat as he tried to control the flood of thoughts that threatened to consume him.

And then, as if time had slowed down, soft music filled the air, announcing Y/N's arrival. His breath seemed to catch as he saw her appear in the aisle, a glimpse of ethereal beauty in her stunning wedding dress. His heart was filled with a mix of joy and pain when he saw her so perfect.

Matt thought he would only see her in a wedding dress on their own wedding day.

Tears threatened to blur his vision as he fought to hold them back. He wanted to scream from the rooftops and release all his pent-up anger, but his words were lost in the void of his silent anguish.

"Matt, are you okay?" Chris asked beside him in an almost muted whisper, only receiving a short nod in return.

As she approached the altar, Matt felt his leg begin to bounce involuntarily in a mixture of anxiety and hesitation. Every step she took seemed to sound like an echo in his own broken heart, a constant reminder of what could have been but would never be.

He had to do something.

When Y/N finally reached the foot of the altar, Matt clenched his right hand into a fist tightly, his teeth biting his thumbnail in a desperate attempt to contain whatever was wanting to come out. He watched with a lump in his throat as she and Victor turned face-to-face, everything sounding muffled against his ears.

He had to.

Every word spoken was like a knife in his heart. He wondered if Y/N could feel the intensity of his emotions, if she could see the love and sadness mixed in his eyes as her own eyes circled the room momentarily, carrying a mix of nervousness and anxiety.

Silence hung in the church, heavy and dense, as the priest finished his solemn last words.

"If anyone has anything to say against this union, speak now or forever remain silent." Finally came the phrase so feared and long awaited.

The priest's voice echoed through the sacred space, resounding off the walls as the guests held their breath. Matt felt his heart hammer in his chest, almost hearing it in his ears, a tumultuous mix of fear and determination swirling in his mind.

He needed to.

And then, before he could think twice, before he could stop the urge that welled up inside him, Matt stood up. His body acted on instinct, his chair scraping with a harsh sound against the floor at the abrupt movement of his body.

The loud sound cut through the silence like a knife, causing the guests to turn to his figure in shock, eyes wide in horror. The priest raised his eyebrows in surprise, his words frozen on his lips as he watched the scene unfold before his eyes.

Victor, Y/N's fiancé, looked at Matt with flaming hatred in his eyes, a completely different expression than the one he displayed moments before the ceremony. He knew who Matt was, and he knew Matt would mean trouble for him.

But Matt ignored all of this. At that moment, all that mattered was Y/N. His blue eyes brimming with fear and love looked intensely into Y/N's shocked ones, who seemed frozen in place.

"I-I..." Y/N began, clearing her throat and turning to face the sea of guests. "I need a moment."

And then, without waiting for a response or further intervention, Y/N got down from the altar and turned around, starting to run towards the back of the church. Her footsteps echoed in the silence with the click of her high heels against the floor, each beat of her heart matching the frantic pace of her run.

"Matt!" Nick called through gritted teeth, quickly glancing at the people around him as he raised his right hand, holding Matt's wrist tightly. "Sit down, now."

Matt barely had time to process what was happening before his instincts took over again, pulling his wrist from Nick's grip quickly. He ignored the confused murmurs of the guests accompanying him as he ran after Y/N.

He had to reach her, had to find a way to explain himself, to convince her to listen. He couldn't let her go without a fight, not after everything he had risked.

Matt's feet pounded the church floor as he ran, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He barely noticed Victor's screams echoing behind him, barely noticed the dirty looks that glared at his back as he chased the only love he'd ever had. All that mattered was reaching Y/N, holding her hand, and never letting it go again.

Matt pushed open the back doors of the church hard, his mind spinning in a whirlwind as he prepared to face whatever was on the other side.

He was expecting the worst - a furious face, eyes full of rage, cutting words thrown his way. But what he found was the complete opposite of that.

Y/N's figure was there, just a few feet away. She held her heels in one of her hands, her veil was lying on the floor next to her bare feet, and her beautiful dress was rumpled, but there was a huge smile on her face, and her eyes showed an intense relief.

Matt frowned in confusion, his own mind in turmoil as he tried to process what was happening. The boy expected her to confront him, to blame him for interrupting her perfect day, for destroying her dreams. But not that.

Before he could do anything, Y/N dropped her heels onto the delicate veil before running towards him, her steps quick and purposeful. She stopped before Matt, her eyes shining with an intensity that left him speechless.

Without hesitation, the girl raised her hands towards his face, cupping his red, hot cheeks, her fingers touching his skin with a tenderness that made him shiver. And then, so suddenly, she pulled him towards her, her lips meeting his in a deep, desperate kiss.

Matt felt the world disappear around him as he gave himself over to the gesture, all his questions slipping from his mind, his hands finding their place around Y/N's waist almost automatically, as if it was marked into his soul.

He could feel the warmth of her body against his, the soft touch of her lips against his own, and Matt had never, until that moment, truly understood how much he missed that.

Matt's lips gently parted from Y/N's seconds later, his eyes remained fixed on her face, as if trying to decipher a complex riddle. He felt the euphoria of the moment still pulsing through his veins, but a sense of confusion was still mixed with the intensity of it all.

"I... I don't understand." The boy murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to find the right words to express the whirlwind of thoughts that assaulted him.

Y/N shook her head, a soft smile still playing on his lips. She pulled away slightly, maintaining eye contact with Matt.

"I know this is all very confusing." She began, her voice soft and comforting. "But I'm so happy, Matt. So happy and relieved that you're here."

Matt's confusion deepened even further as he took in her words. He couldn't understand how she could be so serene and happy after everything that happened and what he did with her special date.

The boy felt a weight on his shoulders and an immense desire to look behind his shoulders towards the door, feeling as if someone would open it at any moment and expose them to the public.

"When I sent the invitation." Y/N continued. "I felt scared. Scared that you wouldn't show up, that you would choose not to be here. But deep down, I knew you would come. I knew you wouldn't let me down."

Her words hit the brunette like a wave of comforting heat. He watched her intensely, his racing heart overflowing with love as goosebumps ran through his whole body.

"Don't get me wrong, Victor is an amazing guy, but... Matt, he's not you. He never was. No one will ever be you." She unbuttoned her lace sleeves before rolling them up, ripping off the flower that was attached to the fake belt at her waist and throwing it over her heels.

She really was something.

"Y/N-"

"Run away with me?

Y/N's suggestion left Matt speechless. His body remained static as his eyes stared at her, his orbs filled with shock and disbelief. He never imagined that she could suggest something so radical.

"Matt, please, we have to go. Run away with me."

A smirk slowly grew onto Matt's face before he took her right hand in his, pulling her close tightly and picking her up in one quick movement, his right arm supporting her back and his hand gripping her waist tightly, while his left arm held her legs beneath her knees, pressing her against his body.

A squeal escaped Y/N's throat, who wrapped her arms around his neck and placed her hands on the back of his head tightly, hiding her face in the crook of his shoulder, a loud laughter passing through her lips.

"You're unbelievable, pretty girl... Come on, let's go."

So glad you were around when they said: Speak Now.

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lowkeyerror · 7 months

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The Family Business Ch.2

WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Ch Notes: No warnings for this chapter, Krolik=Bunny, Sestra=Sister

Summary: Wanda was sent away on important business, by the time she comes back you're all grown up and a part of the family company. Wanda doesn't come back home empty handed in fact she returns with a brand new wife.

An: Ok someone asked me for Ch.2 early and I had to deliver. Next Ch.3 will be up on Monday. Stay tuned and hope you enjoy.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

True to their word, the Maximoff’s provided you with a roof over your head and protection wherever you went. You never worried about your mother again and you saw your father whenever his schedule permitted. However, your primary residence was with the Maximoff’s. They were just as kind as they had always been.

Dragos and Flora paid for anything you could ever want or need. They paid for your tuition at NYU, though you tried to argue against it. You double majored in software engineering and physics. Without the constant insecurities that your parents piled on you, you were able to reach new academic heights.

Wanda had gone off right before her college graduation, Dragos said she was doing important work internationally. He didn’t know when she would be returning. There was a small part of you that hated that the woman didn’t come to your graduation, but a card from her in the mail was enough to make you smile.

Once you had your degrees you weighed your options. After multiple boring interviews and under stimulating work you finally asked Dragos if there was anything you could do in the family business. Pietro wasn’t thrilled about you wanting to be involved, but once he saw you at work, he knew you’d fit right in.

The crime was fronted by a legitimate business that Dragos owned. Which meant that you got to work out of one the tallest office buildings in New York. Your standing with the family also afforded you a desk pretty high up. When you weren’t hacking into competitors’ systems or running field operations, you did simple accounting for the company. It was easier that way, as the numbers for both the true business and the under-cover business were vetted by you.

“Y/n, come on a delivery with me?” Pietro pops his head into your office space.

“What kind of delivery?”

He smirks, “Special.”

You quickly grab your jacket and follow him out of your office. As you navigate to the bottom floor the two of you make small talk.

“So, when are you going to stop playing around and ask Monica out?”

Pietro rolls his eyes, “When you date someone for more than 2 outings.”

You feign a pained look, “Ouch, that one hurts Piet.”

“The truth often does.”

Once you both are out of the building and into the car your demeanor changes a bit, “So who are these going to?”

“Mr. H.”

You groan, “That guy’s sketchy, I don't like him.”

Pietro laughs, “I’m sure a lot of people feel the same way about us. “

“Whatever,” you mumble, scrolling through your phone.

The rest of the ride is quiet, until you pull up to the drop of location. “So, I’m going in and dropping the stuff off. You’re going to wait for me in the driver's seat.”

“Why the driver’s seat?”

He blinks at you, “In case we need to get away faster, you'll already be in here. Keep the car running, this should be quick.”

While Pietro goes in to handle the business, you let your mind spiral into thoughts about Wanda. You miss her and feel like it has been too long. Dragos said that she ended up staying in Russia for awhile before heading to their home country of Sokovia. Apparently, while he ran the business here, she ran the operations over there.

You weren’t surprised that Wanda was trusted with such an important role, she always had leadership qualities. For a long while you thought you wanted to be just like her. Instead, you realized that the older woman had been someone you were interested in. Wanda had nearly a decade on you in age, but how could you not like her as a young queer girl.

Sometimes you could still feel her hand delicately grazing your torso as she patched up the wounds your mother inflicted. For awhile in the Maximoff’s home everyone treated you as if you would break into a million pieces. Maybe Wanda did too, but it was different with her.

She wasn’t just careful with you because she was scared, you’d break, but she truly believed that you deserved the care. Even when you began training with her, she treated you delicately. You wanted to learn how to protect yourself and she stepped right in and became the perfect teacher. You also began going to the gym with Pietro at least once a week. You weren’t trying to be buff, but just in shape enough to defend yourself if you needed.

Even though your outward appearance changed to be stronger. You felt as though Wanda saw right through that into your deepest insecurities and tended to them accordingly.

Your daydreaming is cut short by Pietro busting out of the warehouse where the drop was supposed to take place, with the goods still in his hand.

“DRIVE! DRIVE! DRIVE!”

He jumps into the passenger seat, and you hit the gas. Pietro is talking to you, but your adrenaline is kicking in. Your fieldwork doesn’t really get this exciting without a debrief. Getaway driver is definitely a new change in speed.

Your eyes focus solely on the road, ignoring what the man is saying as his chest heaves up and down. A quick glance in the rearview mirror tells you that they are following you. While you are curious about what happened, those questions can be answered later.

Pietro is actually mildly impressed with your driving skills. Your sharp turns and redirections are top notch in his opinion. Though you are doing great the guys are still tailing you.

You think for a moment, trying to remember the nearest parking garage. You realize that it’s behind you and brake hard, you weave through oncoming traffic to try to get to the parking garage.

“Get ready to hop out,” you say to Pietro parking the car. Once you do the blonde starts running on foot and you call after him. He stops in his tracks frantic until he sees you breaking into another car. When you get in you drive normally out of the parking structure and straight back to the office.

“Jesus Christ, Y/n I didn’t know you could drive like that?”

Pietro grabs the wooden box from his lap before walking to the elevator. He wipes his hands on his jeans and proceeds as though it was a just another day.

“So, what the fuck happened?”

He raises an eyebrow, “You weren’t listening in the car?”

“Duh, I was a little preoccupied with the whole driving for my life thing.”

“I guess you'll hear it when I tell Papa then.”

The two of you are definitely headed to the top floor of the building to inform Dragos of what has transpired. Pietro is never one for knocking and simply barges into the man’s office.

“Papa, do you have a- Sestra?”

Pietro’s sentence dies in his throat as he gets a glimpse of his older sister. He wastes no time sitting in the wooden box on a couch nearby and scooping up the redhead in a tight hug. You could hear them exchanging more words in their mother language. It’s an unexpectedly tender moment as Pietro tries to keep things on the light side.

Somewhere in the hug Wanda’s eyes land on you and they widen slightly. She untangles herself from her brother to get a good look at you. She’s older, as expected, but age had been more than kind to her. Wanda looks as elegant as ever, an air of distinguish surrounds her.

The way she looks at you makes you feel like a teenager again. You do your best not to squirm under her gaze. When a smile placed itself on her lips, you feel relief washing over you. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she pulls you in to a big hug.

Her hands rise to hold your face, pulling back just slightly. She wants to get a good look at you. The softness of her hands causes you to blush.

“You’ve grown up on me little krolik.”

She releases the hold, and you speak, “You’ve been gone a long time, Wanda.”

There it is, in your voice for the first time in years; That fragile tone that you had only ever allowed Wanda to hear. You hope it didn't sound as desperate to everyone else in the room and it didn't. But Wanda picked up on it instantly.

“I have, but now I'm back; permanently,” Wanda says, keeping her eyes on you.

“And she brought a friend,” Dragos interjects, and you watch Wanda roll her eyes.

“She’s more than a friend Papa, she’s my wife and she’s sitting right here. I expect you to treat her kindly.”

Wanda is married and to a woman. Your mind scrambles to piece together what had happened in the years that she was gone for this to be the case. It is hard for you to digest what the woman had said. Your breathing becomes a little shallow, but no one takes notice.

Finally, you take notice of the other woman in the room, sitting in the chair next to the one Wanda had just been sitting in. Your mouth dries at the sight of her. The woman is stunning. Her auburn hair is a few shades darker than Wanda’s. She has a button nose, soft pink lips and piercing green eyes. You couldn't be mad at Wanda for marrying such a beautiful woman.

“Sestra, you’re married?” Pietro exclaims, looking between the two women dramatically.

“Yes; Y/n, Pietro, this is my wife, Natasha Romanoff.”

Your eyes linger on the woman even when Dragos claps his hands together to get the attention of the room, “Piet you were saying something important. I see that Mr. H didn't get his package.”

Any further pleasantries would have to wait.

“Papa it was a bad deal. They tried short me on our exchange, so I told them they could either bring me the rest of what they owe, or I’d be walking. They planned to take the package from me, so I ran immediately to the car. Of course they chased after me, but thanks to need for speed over here we got away.”

Dragos pinches the bridge of his nose lightly, “Don’t I always say being back up?”

Pietro answers back, “I took Y/n.”

This causes Natasha to chuckle a bit.

Your eyes narrow at her, “Something funny?”

She doesn’t back down, “Well from the way Wanda described you, you don't necessarily scream back up.”

Your jaw clenches slightly and you steal a quick glance at Wanda, “Wanda hasn’t seen me in over 5 years. I’m not that fragile little kid anymore.”

Dragos nods proudly, “Y/n is the biggest asset we have in this organization. She’s by far the glue that holds this all together and I will not tolerate any disrespect thrown her way.” The final part of his sentence carries a lot of weight to it, it’s a verbal warning.

Wanda clears her throat, “Hammerhead is a loyal customer, why would he try to cheat us?”

“He could have a new dealer,” you speak up. “Someone who might be charging less for similar goods.”

“You think someone is dumb enough to try to undercut us?” Pietro questions.

You speak candidly, “I think that people in this city can be greedy, and greed blinds all good sense.”

Dragos clearly agrees, “We need eyes and ears on the streets listening to anything about dealers that aren't us. I need a meeting with Hammerhead to make sure he’s got that big ugly head of his on straight. Y/n if I can't sell this, I'm going to have see a profit of this quantity somewhere else on the sheets.”

“Let Natasha and I come with you to your meeting Papa. I want you to see what we're capable of.”

“Papa, is this woman going to be joining our group?” Pietro asks.

You turn your attention to Dragos, curious of what the man has to say. There is an unbridled shine in Wanda’s eyes and a small upturn of Natasha’s lip. They seem to think that the man would say yes immediately.

Instead, he heavily sighs, “For now Ms. Romanoff is simply Wanda’s… wife. There is a chance that she’ll be given access to join. However, her involvement isn’t guaranteed. So just to be clear, she’s not going to be sitting in on the meeting.”

Wanda wants to fight back, you can tell, but she refrains. The playfulness of her features dissipates as she responds, “Is she at least allowed to stay and watch them work?”

“Y/n do you mind if Ms. Romanoff shadows you for the rest of the day?” You know what Dragos was actually asking of you. He wants you to vet her.

Your eyes land on the woman, staring at her intensely, “Sure.”

She squirms in her seat which makes you smile a bit.

“Pietro,” Dragos starts.

“Eyes & ears I’ve got it Papa,” he’s out of the door fast, setting the plan in motion.

Dragos presses a small button on his desk, “Kate can you set up a meeting between Hammerhead & I. It needs to be as soon as possible. Make it clear that if I’m kept waiting, there will be extra fees to pay. Ones that can't be bought by money.”

“No problem Mr. Maximoff. Should I have Clint get the car ready?” She responds over the intercom.

“That’ll be great, thank you Kate.”

Now it is Wanda who claps her hands, “So I guess it’s time to get to work. Which mean it’s time to say goodbye to my beautiful wife and my little krolik.”

Natasha stands from her seat and places a gentle kiss on Wanda’s lips. “Be safe,” she murmurs, not quite ready to part from her wife.

“I’ll be fine Nat, it’s just business as usual.”

Something about the two women in the same line of sight together made you feel weird. You had seen beautiful couples before, but you seem to be a little mesmerized by the sight of Natasha and Wanda. For now, you would say that it was just the shock of seeing Wanda after all these years and being blindsided by the news of her marriage.

“Have you changed too much to give me a hug before you go?”

The teasing tone in Wanda’s voice makes you roll your eyes. You walk over to her nonetheless, “I hugged you earlier, you know.”

Wanda doesn’t hesitate to pull you into another hug. “I know, but maybe two is too much for the new Y/n.”

You look up at her, maybe for a second too long, and you can’t help yourself, “Don’t worry, part of me is still your little krolik.”

A slight blush paints over her features as she smiles at you, “Good, keep my wife safe, ok?”

Your eyes cut to Natasha, “Of course, I’ll leave you guys to it.”

You walk out of the office with Wanda’s wife trailing closely behind you.

“So, are you going to show me what makes you the glue?”

Her words make smile tug on the edge of your lips, “If you’re lucky.”

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #pietro maximoff #kate bishop #clint barton

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morefloor · 10 months

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ahhhwomen · 7 months

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Nothing really matters.

Vampire Empire

Part 3

Pairing: DarkVamp!Wanda Maximoff x DarkVamp!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: Well this was depressing to write... Anyways, enjoy!

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. All mistakes are my own.

AU Warnings: Human pets, abuse, violence, possessiveness, probably incorrect vampire lore, angst, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, kitten play (?), also this is not a Carol positive fic (I have nothing against her, but I needed a villain), death Minors DNI 18+

Summary: You feel numb, what does it matter anymore?

Word Count: 2.1k

Taglist: @thinking1bee

The next time either of them sees you is in one of Natasha’s business meetings a few weeks later.

Back in Carol’s possession, you kneel in the corner of the conference room while Carol raises her voice at anyone with a slight attitude toward her idiotic ideas.

After half an hour, the constant bickering between the blond woman and Natasha’s respective staff members had become background noise.

There is a crinkling of paper as Natasha scuffles her documents around for a moment while deep in thought. The paper is smooth and high quality, her golden rings glide against the white surface, and she traces black lines of information she can recite in her sleep.

To Natasha’s surprise, you had seemed indifferent to her presence, you didn’t even glance at her once during the introduction to today’s meeting.

Following the same line back and forth, the ink smudges and blurs after the seventh round of Natasha's thumb gliding gently on top of the unimportant details.

She had to give credit where credit was due. You were poised and unbothered.

She could not say the same for herself, however.

Ever since she could smell you getting in the elevator with blondie, she kept glancing toward the door, waiting for your arrival. And now, she continuously spares a glance in your direction when she thinks someone talks too loudly or expresses themselves with broad gestures.

It doesn't take long for her to understand you a little better.

Carol changes you.

Your eyes are cast downward, and you hold your head low in a display of obedience. You are sitting on your heels with your hands just out in front of your knees. Your back is strung tight to form a perfect line and the muzzle is only for show. But whereas your posture and attitude would be considered perfection, your eyes are empty.

Natasha’s chair creaks and groans as she rocks back and forth, the leather cushion softens the knockback as her leg bounces against the flooring, unfitting of her usual characteristics, she can’t seem to keep her calm and collected demeanor.

Small tears and wrinkles form, as Natasha tightens her hands against some case report she wrote half-heartedly before bed the previous night. She inhales sharply, her nostrils flaring.

You are still covered in bruises.

They are healing, and so are the once red and angry lines, they are now pinker and more muted. But it’s clear some of them were fresher, it had been close to a month since she had seen you last, yet the color of some were as fresh as a daisy.

Specifically, your face seemed to have been put through the gutter.

Though it was clear that whatever transpired that day hadn’t been repeated, she could still sense in you that Carol wasn’t very light-handed.

She tells herself it is because she pities you for having to go through the blonde’s rage, but there is also something about the two small puncture wounds on your neck that aggravates her.

Her fingers drum against the table in annoyance while she thinks it over, her nails clicking against the resin top of her newly polished conference table.

Pinching the skin between her eyebrows she sighs loudly. Enough so, that the man currently presenting stutters and has to loosen his tie before continuing with a slight tremor to his hands.

She can’t figure it out.

She huffs and readjusts her posture to show she is listening.

Never mind, the little mystery you are, she has business to attend to. With one last glance, she emerges herself back in the matter at hand and makes sure to fix Carol with a hard glare whenever something becomes too heated.

You are sitting on an old wooden bench in the garden.

The flowers bloom around you and rustle in the fresh, spring, wind. If you close your eyes, you can almost smell the rosebush across the tiny plot of land. The birds sing in a tune you are not familiar with, but it’s nice. Lilies hug your legs, all colorful and fresh, there are tiny little droplets atop their pedals, it must have rained before you got out here.

That would explain the chill that settles deep in your spine.

There are dogs around, you hear them bark and growl at each other on the other side of the fence, but you don’t mind.

Because you are in the garden. With a fence between you and them.

Until one of them jumps the fence.

You have been staring at the ground with a slight tremor lacing your every move for the better part of an hour. She seems like a calm dog, but she’s big, bigger than you, and there is this presence to her that you don’t know what to do with.

She smells like the flowers around you, maybe that’s why you don’t flee. No matter how much you want to, you are frozen in your seat as the big hound stares at you.

She licks her snout and blinks slowly while you sit there. It feels like she is mocking you, almost as if daring you to move.

The wind picks up every now and then, the howling of the other dogs growing louder and more concerning, but the big dog doesn’t bat an eye. She growls deeply, but you can tell it isn’t directed at you, and then the other dog’s calm.

Maybe she is a nice dog, but it doesn’t matter.

A dog is a dog.

The fence opens with a piercing screech. Even as you close your eyes in hope, the big dog does nothing. She doesn’t run away, but she doesn’t help either.

She just watches as Master drags you away. You don’t know why you thought she would do anything else.

Master is right.

Master is always right.

No one will help.

You don’t deserve it.

When the meeting commends, Carol drags you out of the room quickly, she has other matters to settle tonight, and she can’t be bothered to stay here too long.

Your knuckles rasp against the expensive flooring of Mrs. Romanoff´s office. The tasteful tree-work makes your bones ache, and your tag jingles repeatedly as bone connects with fifty thousand dollars worth of Brazilian rosewood. The blond woman tugs at your leash impatiently.

“Carol. Wait a moment.”

Please don’t.

Master halted her movements just before she passed through the elevator´s door, effectively also halting yours.

“There is some paperwork James wants you to finish up before you leave.”

Natasha waves her hand around with a roll of her eyes, showcasing false annoyance she knows the blond will eat right up, “Something about an unsettled bank record?” The redhead squints in the blonde’s direction, displeasure hidden not so greatly on the CEO’s face.

Natasha has to work extremely hard to not showcase how disgusting she finds the woman in front of her to be.

The woman beside you tenses up. She bunches her eyebrows and sighs before nodding slowly and releasing the tight clutch on your leash.

A pointed finger comes into view as Carol shifts her body towards you and tilts her head downward to face you. “Stay here.” Her voice leaves no room for arguing, it’s a clear command, you know she only does it to showcase her power over you. You couldn’t talk back even if you wanted to, the clinic made sure of that long before you even knew Masters hard angles.

Nonetheless, you bow your head and place your rump back onto the cruel flooring, somehow it feels even stiffer than the concrete inside your familiar slammer.

There is a long and rather awkward silence before Miss Romanoff clears her throat and breaks the stillness.

“Are you in pain?” Natasha gestures towards her own face as if you need a hint to understand what she means.

Just a few months ago, Romanoff acknowledging you in the slightest would send you through a rollercoaster of fear and wonder. Now you merely play dumb and tilt your head in confusion.

Of course, it hurts.

That was the point, wasn’t it?

“You smell different.” Carol scrutinizes you from afar.

If it weren’t for the years of experience you have with this sort of thing you would give yourself away immediately by tensing up and begging for her mercy, instead, you remain impassive.

The blond woman studies you carefully, waiting for any telltale that you heard her.

It’s easier than you thought.

Maybe it’s from the emotional drainage these days have been, but you barely feel anything as Carol looks you over. No matter how much she has hurt you, her eyes hold nothing compared to the power that the Maximoff clan’s leader has in hers.

You can hear the familiar crunch of rough concrete beneath a heavy army boot.

Master moves closer, but still, you feel nothing.

It’s been three days since that day. The first night you sobbed your sorrows, your pain, your fear, everything that has been building up and suppressed throughout the years all expressed in a puddle of tears and blood.

You don’t know what the women wanted, but something about them had made ancient wounds reopen, and the floodgates that followed were inevitable.

You don’t even remember falling asleep, you find it more likely that you passed out from dehydration or exhaustion.

The other days had passed in a blur.

It’s like you have been stuck in a trance where nothing really matters anymore.

Then the smashing of keys came back, and still, you were inconsolable. You didn’t even acknowledge her when she ran her hands over your bare body. Didn’t blink as her hands took a threatening hold of your collar.

She was testing this new side of yours; you could tell it angered her that she didn’t affect you.

You ruined her little power trip of the day.

She grips the back of your neck and forces you to face her. “Look at me when I am talking to you!” Spit sprays on your face as she talks through gritted teeth.

You don’t care, you just stare at her through hooded eyes, looking but not seeing.

Her hand connected hard with your face; you could feel the vibration inside your skull. And yet, all you could think about were them.

The feeling of concrete pouring through your veins wasn’t so scary anymore.

*slap*

You wonder what would happen if she went all the way…

*slap*

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if they killed you.

*slap*

“LOOK AT ME!” Carol screams into your ear, but it is fuzzy and unintelligible to you.

*slap*

“CAN’T YOU TELL I AM TALKING TO YOU, YOU STUPID BITCH!?”

*slap*

“Look at me?” Her hand strokes your chin lightly, but you know her…

*slap*

Your head bounces against the pavement.

*slap*

Your vision becomes blurry and unfocused.

She hit you a total of twenty-four more times, before finally relenting and stomping away.

From that day forward you decided to play into it, pretend like what took place with the powerful women never happened to begin with. You were sure it would anger them.

If this is what Carol does when you ruin her little high.

Maybe, they will return and finish what they started if you ruin theirs.

Natasha scratches the nape of her neck as you sit there staring into nothingness. Your brows are slightly raised, and your eyes are wide, to Natasha, it seems like you are in a completely different world.

She leans against the wall, her shoulder squishing against the glass panel, and she crosses one leg over the other. Relying solely on her right leg to hold her up, she looks down at her dress shoes.

Her question was stupid, she knew as much, but what else was she supposed to say?

She wanted to talk to you.

Nat knows she should just leave you be and return back to her office, but when you were being led out of the room earlier your eyes had connected with her, it was a mere millisecond. But in that moment Natasha had felt a chill run down her spine.

Something was definitely wrong.

However, she didn’t expect you to completely shut down after just one simple question.

You are unresponsive to any stimuli while you sit in the hallway with Natasha’s presence close by. The older redhead tries to tap her foot or grunt obnoxiously, just to get a response, but nothing.

It’s not until you can hear Carol’s heavy footsteps that you quicken up and bow your head down.

Carol nods in Natasha’s direction before she passes her and collects you. Her gruff hands slide up and down the expanses of your leash until she finds the position that will yield her the most amount of control over your movements.

If the circumstances were different, Natasha would kill Carol on the spot.

Yet, as Carol takes ahold of your leash and steers you both into the elevator, Natasha lets you go.

Convincing herself it’s for the better. Again.

#wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader #dark!natasha romanoff #vampire!natasha romanoff #vampire!wanda maximoff #dark!wandanat

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candycandy00 · 7 months

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The Doll House - A Gojo x Reader Fanfic Part 1

You sell yourself to the Doll House to pay your mom’s medical expenses, only to discover your trainer is the guy who bullied you relentlessly in high school: Gojo Satoru.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!

On the outskirts of town, there stands a particular shop called the “Doll House”. Inside its walls you can find a “doll” to match any taste you might have. All your desires will be fulfilled, no matter how depraved. Satisfaction is guaranteed! The dolls are exceptionally high quality, thanks to the skillful trainers who work with them twenty-four hours a day, molding them into perfect toys for your enjoyment.

Each trainer has a specialty that they focus on, and they all take great pride in their work. Their methods differ greatly, their approaches vary, but they all follow one rule: never get attached to a doll. After the training is complete, they hand the dolls over to their new owners, and never see them again. However, just once over the course of their careers, trainers are allowed to pick a doll they’ve personally trained and keep her as their own.

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Gojo’s. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Chubby Reader. Dubcon. Pet Play. Bullying. Collars/Leashes. Fingering. Anal sex. Gojo being an asshole.

You stand nervously in the welcome room of the Doll House. The owner is looking you up and down. “Alright, we’ll take you,” she says.

“Really?” You’re surprised. When a friend suggested selling yourself as a doll to pay for your sick mother’s exorbitant medical expenses, you initially laughed off the idea. Dolls are all slim, sexy women… right? But you’re desperate, so you decided to check, just in case. The Doll House has a reputation for being fair and treating dolls well, so it’s the first shop you went to.

“Of course,” the owner says. “Tastes vary. We often get requests for… softer women.”

That was a very polite way of putting it. You’ve been of the thicker variety since high school, with more curves than you’d like. But the owner must know what she’s talking about. Still, you’re quite insecure, and the idea of a strange man seeing you naked, seeing every little roll and flaw, was frightening.

The owner gives you a price, what she’s willing to pay for you. It’s way more than you expected, and plenty enough to cover the medical bills and then some. You think of your poor mother sitting in a hospital bed, waiting for an operation she can’t afford, and your choice is clear.

“Okay, it’s a deal,” you say.

A contract is signed, money is transferred to your mother’s bank account, and you’re left standing in the welcome room, waiting to meet your trainer. The whole experience is embarrassing, but you did this in secret, telling no one in your family. You instructed your friend to explain things to your mother when she’s well enough to understand, but to tell everyone else you moved far away. At least you’ll be able to maintain a little of your dignity. You don’t want anyone to know you’re in such financial trouble that you had to resort to desperate measures to help your own mother.

You’re standing in the middle of the room, looking at the floor, when you hear a voice that is horrifyingly familiar.

“Chubby Bunny? Is that you?”

Oh no. Please no. Not him.

You slowly look up. Standing in front of you is the tall, gorgeous guy you had a crush on in high school… until he started bullying you relentlessly.

“Gojo?! Why are you here?” you ask. He was a pompous rich boy in high school. Of course he’s probably here to buy a doll. You’re just mortified that he’s seen you here.

He smiles as he pulls off his sunglasses. Ugh! Those eyes are so bright, they’re practically blinding you!

“Looks like I’m your trainer,” he says.

You feel like someone poured ice water down the back of your shirt. “What?!”

He laughs. “I was surprised when I saw your name on the file, but here you are!”

“I can’t do this,” you say, looking around frantically for the owner. “I’ve changed my mind!”

“Huh? But you already signed the contract,” he says, his smile dropping. “Isn’t it better to have a trainer you already know?”

No. It’s way worse. Indescribably worse. Maybe if it was someone else, anyone else, but not Gojo.

You met him in high school. Initially, you had a crush on him, like every other girl in the school. He was so tall, with soft white hair and the most beautiful blue eyes you’d ever seen. There wasn’t a soul in the school who didn’t go weak when Gojo looked them in the eyes.

But you were so shy, and totally certain that a guy as hot as him would want nothing to do with you. So you avoided him. If you saw him in the hallway, you went the other direction. When he said something funny in class, you held back your laughter. When he pulled some stupid stunt for attention, and the rest of the class was cheering him on, you focused on your school work and pretended not to notice.

Until one day he actually spoke to you. Gojo Satoru, the hottest, most popular guy in school, spoke to you! Unfortunately, what he said was hurtful. He walked by your desk and noticed the cute, round, bunny-shaped keychain attached to your bag and said, “Your keychain looks just like you! You’re both Chubby Bunnies!”

He’d smiled when he said it, making the words seem even more cruel. A few of your classmates heard him and started laughing. From that point on, your nickname was Chubby Bunny. Everyone in class called you that, especially Gojo, who seemed to get a kick out the fact that he’d started the whole thing.

Every day after that, Gojo teased and bullied you. He made rude remarks about your clothes, “accidentally” knocked your books out of your hands, took your belongings and hid them in his own desk or pockets, just to force you to come and beg him to return them, and even purposely embarrassed you in front of other boys. When you started to like another boy from a different class, Gojo caught you trying to slip a love letter into the boy’s locker. Gojo grabbed the letter, opened it, and read it out loud in front of everyone. That was particularly traumatic.

The worst part of all was that you had lingering feelings for him that wouldn’t go away, no matter how badly he treated you. Throughout your entire first year of high school, you nursed a pretty serious crush on him. You might have even been in love with him. So when he started bullying you in your second year, it was hard to simply turn those feelings off.

Now he’s standing in front of you, as your trainer. The very idea of it is unthinkable! Being intimate with him? Being naked in front of him? Who knows what sort of cruel bullying and mockery he would subject you to?!

“Uh, is there another trainer available?” you ask, trying to keep yourself from freaking out right in front of him.

“Nope, everyone else is occupied,” he says. “Why don’t you want me to be your trainer? That kinda hurts my feelings.”

His feelings?! After everything he did to you? Unbelievable! But you keep your voice as steady as possible and say, “It’s just kind of awkward, you know? Since we went to school together.”

He puts one hand under his chin, as if he’s thinking it over. “Hmmm, I guess so. By the way, Suguru works here too. You remember him, right?”

You feel like crawling into a hole and never coming out. What are the odds that you’d end up at a doll shop where two of your high school classmates work?

“Oh, and Nanami too. He was a year under us but he was pretty popular.”

You turn around, putting your face in your hands. “This is my nightmare come to life,” you mutter.

Gojo laughs behind you. “Come on, it won’t be so bad. It’ll be like a high school reunion! We can catch up on old times! And besides,” he says, his voice dropping to a lower tone, “you already signed. The owner hates it when people back out of contracts. She’ll destroy you financially. And that would be bad, right? Your file says you have a sick mom.”

You turn to look back at him, and he looks so smug, just like he did back then. But he’s right. You’ve already signed the contract. Backing out now would make your situation a thousand times worse than it was before you came here.

“The training only lasts six weeks, right?” you ask him. Maybe you could stand it for six weeks. Then someone would buy you and you’d never see Gojo again.

“Right,” he answers, grinning. “Unless I just keep you!”

A chill runs down your spine. “Haha, very funny.”

You’ve heard about the fact that trainers at the Doll House can keep a doll they’ve trained, but Gojo would never keep you. He treated you like shit in high school. He hated you.

With a heavy sigh, you lower your head in defeat and say, “Okay. I guess I don’t have much choice.”

Gojo looks happy, and you can only assume it’s because he’ll get to bully you even more.

“Great, let’s go to my room and get started,” he says, starting down the hall. “Oh, but don’t expect any special treatment just because we’re old friends.”

Friends? That’s laughable. But your fate is sealed, so you can do nothing but follow after him.

********************

Gojo can barely contain himself as he walks down the hall. His Chubby Bunny is here! And she’s all his for six weeks. For six long weeks, he can do whatever the fuck he wants to her. He’s already getting hard at the thought of stripping her, exploring those curves with his hands, burying his cock in that plush round ass.

The first time he saw her in high school, he wanted her. He’d always been drawn to soft, cute things, and she was the softest, cutest girl he’d ever seen. He was the most popular boy in school, so he couldn’t understand why she never seemed to notice him. No matter what sort of antics he got up to, she wouldn’t even look his direction. The way she ignored him only made him want her more. He wanted her to look at him, to acknowledge him. But he couldn’t bring himself to directly approach her.

Then one day he noticed an adorable keychain hanging from her bag, and it reminded him of her. It was a cute, fluffy bunny with big round eyes. Without really thinking, he blurted out that her keychain looked like her, and called her a Chubby Bunny. In all honesty, he meant it affectionately. He thought it was such a cute nickname, and it suited her perfectly. But the other kids in class laughed, and she looked hurt.

Most importantly of all though, is that she looked at Gojo. For the first time, her full attention was on him. Her eyes were wet as if she were about to cry, and her face was flushed in embarrassment, but she was looking at him!

The next day, Gojo noticed another boy in class staring at Chubby Bunny’s soft tits, straining against the tight white button up of her school uniform. Gojo didn’t like that. So when she walked by him later, he said, “Don’t they make shirts any bigger than that? Yours is busting off you.”

She looked at him with a shocked expression, but it quickly changed to embarrassment and then anger. She ran out of the room as if someone was chasing her. Shoko, who was standing nearby, slapped his arm. “Don’t be a dick. You shouldn’t make fun of a girl’s weight.”

“Huh? What does her weight have to do with anything?”

Shoko stared at him. “I’m trying to figure out if you’re being mean or being stupid.”

It didn’t take Gojo long to figure out that the one surefire way to get Chubby Bunny to pay attention to him was to make her mad. So he knocked her books out of her hands as a prank, then enjoyed the sight of her ass in the air as she bent over to pick them up. He took things from her bag when she wasn’t looking, but let her know it was him so she’d have to come over to him and ask for them back. He liked it when she spoke to him, said his name, glared at him. Any interaction was fun for him. From his perspective, he was simply teasing her, getting reactions out of her.

But it all changed one day when he saw her trying to slip a love letter into another boy’s locker. He’d seen her staring at the boy from afar, and it bothered him. He couldn’t let them hook up! So he snatched the letter from her hand. She’d looked at him with anger. “Give it back, Gojo!”

He looked at her for a moment, not even sure what he wanted to do with the letter. He just didn’t want her to give it to the other boy. On a whim, he tore the letter open.

“What’s this? A love letter?”

She tried to reach for it, but he jerked it out of her reach. She was so desperate to grab it, she had pressed her soft body against his in her attempts. He wondered if she saw the blush on his face when he unfolded the letter and began reading it. The more he read, the more desperately she struggled to reach it, and the closer she pressed against him. Then, all at once, while he was still reading it out loud, she stopped reaching for the letter and backed away.

Tears streaked her cute face, causing Gojo to pause. “You’re an asshole,” she said, and then she turned and walked away.

He hadn’t intended to make her cry. He just got caught up in the moment. He suddenly felt guilty, realizing he’d gone too far. After that, he stopped teasing her.

It was nearly a year after graduation that he was out with Shoko. She was drinking and Gojo went along to make sure his friend got home okay. They got to talking about high school and Gojo mentioned Chubby Bunny, wondering what she was up to.

Shoko had given him a dirty look. “I don’t know why you had to be so mean to that poor girl. She liked you, you know.”

He perked up. “She liked me?”

Shoko took another drink. “Our whole first year, she was always staring at you longingly when you weren’t looking. It was really obvious that she had a crush. Then you had to go and bully her.”

Gojo was still absorbing the fact that the girl he’d liked so much had also liked him. And he’d blown it by being a jerk to her.

Now, several years later, fate brought her back into his life. This time as his personal toy for six weeks. He’s so excited he can barely breathe. He can’t wait to hear what sorts of cute sounds she’ll make when he fucks her, what sort of face she makes when she cums. He’s going to enjoy this.

******************

Gojo leads you to his room, and once inside, he closes the door behind you. He stands a few feet away, facing you, and says, “Okay, go ahead and take your clothes off.”

You give him an incredulous look. Is he serious? That’s literally the first thing he tells you to do?

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “You’re not shy, are you?”

This sarcastic asshole! He has to know how insecure you are! He made fun of you for years! He couldn’t know it, but you’ve never been fully intimate with anyone before. Partly because of your own insecurity and partly because you’ve been so busy working various jobs to support your mother. You dated one guy for a few months and he never even saw you naked. You gave him a few blowjobs and that seemed to keep him happy. Until you broke up at least.

“A little,” you say.

He steps closer to you. “I can help you,” he says, his hands moving to the hem of your shirt and beginning to slide the fabric up. “Raise your arms.”

Numbly, you do as he says, letting him pull your shirt off. He doesn’t even take a moment to look at your bra before he’s reaching behind you and unhooking it, sliding the straps off your shoulders. His hands seem to fly to your skirt, quickly pulling it down as if he’s in a hurry. Then he jerks down your panties, sliding them off your feet. It all happens so fast, you barely have time to be shocked.

Once you’re fully naked, he steps back and stares at you for a moment before he circles you, like a shark. You feel your face burning. Those beautiful blue eyes are seeing every inch of you, and you hate it. You would have preferred Geto or Nanami. At least they never made fun of you. Being stripped and ogled by your bully is mortifying.

After making a complete circle, he stops in front of you. There’s a strange look in his eyes. Excitement? Hunger? Is he looking forward to bullying you that much? You use your arms to cover as much of yourself as you can, deciding you’ve given him enough ammo to mock you with.

“Oh! I have something for you! Hold on,” he says, walking over to his closet. He digs around for a minute before coming back with a small box. He sits it on a nearby table and opens it, then pulls something out.

You almost wince when you realize what it is: a pair of white bunny ears attached to a headband. They’re high quality, looking rather realistic. These didn’t come with a cheap Halloween costume. He places them on your head and grins. “Wow, so cute! Now you really are a Chubby Bunny!”

This. Fucking. Guy! You glare at him, and in return he just smiles and says, “You’ll get your tail later.”

Tail? You don’t have time to question that before he returns to the box and comes back holding more items. He holds up a pink leather collar with a silver heart shaped ring in the center, then places it around your neck. It’s a little tight, but not overly uncomfortable. He hooks something to the heart ring, and you realize he’s holding a silver chain with a pink leather handle that matches your collar. Is this a fucking leash?!

Of course Gojo is into some freaky shit. Of course!

“What is this?” you ask, touching the collar with your fingertips, lightly pulling it from your skin to see if it stretches at all. It doesn’t.

“I never told you my specialty, did I?” he says, stepping toward his bed. “It’s pet play. Which means you’re my pet for the next six weeks.”

Oh God. This is going to be worse than you imagined.

As he moves to his bed, he lightly tugs on the leash, pulling you along with him. When he sits down, he pats his lap. “Sit,” he says. You don’t know if it’s a suggestion or a command, so you just stand there, still trying to cover yourself. He pulls on the leash, a little harder this time, and says again in a deeper voice, “Sit.”

You don’t think you’ve ever had real physical contact with him before. Maybe when you were trying to retrieve something he’d taken from you, but that was so quick and frantic, you don’t think it counted. But you have no choice, so you step closer and slowly lower yourself onto one of his thighs. You’re bracing yourself for some kind of joke about how heavy you are, but he just grins at you as one of his hands, the one not holding the leash, begins rubbing and groping all over your body.

“You’re so squishy,” he says, squeezing one of your breasts. His hand is warm, but you can’t help cringing. You’ve been groped over your clothes before, but this is the first time a man has touched your bare chest. And it had to be fucking Gojo.

He moves his hand down your stomach, and you stiffen in his lap, hating that he’s seeing and touching everything you’ve ever wanted to hide. But those thoughts evaporate when his hand slips between your legs. If you were stiff before, you’re absolutely frozen now. You close your eyes tightly, turning your face away from him, but he tugs on the leash and says, “Look at me. Look me in the eyes.”

You open your eyes and glance at him, only to find yourself locked in his gaze. God, those eyes. He knows they make people weak. He knows exactly what he’s doing. It feels like he’s staring deeply into your soul as one of his fingers slides between your folds and strokes your clit.

Your body jolts, and you instinctively try to scoot away from his hand, but he’s holding you firmly in place. Your clit has always been extremely sensitive, so much that you can’t even bear to directly touch it while masturbating.

Gojo notices immediately. “Have you always been this sensitive?”

He gives the leash another tug, making you look him in the eyes again. You nod. His finger keeps rubbing you, making you whimper.

“Why are you acting so scared of me?” he asks. “We’ve known each other for years. You know I’m not going to hurt you.”

You just then realize you’re trembling, still trying to get away from his hand, pathetic little sounds coming from your mouth. Of course you’re scared! This man hates you, and he’s currently playing with the most tender spot on your whole body! But you can’t say that out loud. You shake your head and say, “I’m just… not used to stuff like this…”

His finger switches to rubbing circles around your clit, which gives you a small bit of relief. “Oh come on. Your old boyfriends must have had a lot of fun with such a sensitive little clit.”

You’re still shaking, and you try to look away, but he tugs the leash again.

“Hey, don’t break eye contact!”

You look back at him. You hate looking at those eyes. They take you back to a time and place you’d rather forget. And even worse, they awaken feelings in you that you’ve fought hard to bury.

“So?” he asks. “Didn’t any of your boyfriends know how to pleasure you?”

“N-no,” you answer.

“Really?” He has a confused look on his face for a moment as he regards you, his finger still circling your clit, his eyes watching your reactions. “Wait. Have you ever even been touched like this before?”

When you don’t answer, he tugs on the leash again.

“No,” you finally say, feeling like you want the ground to open up and swallow you. He’s just getting more and more material for making fun of you later.

His eyes widen, and he says under his breath, “Oh fuck.”

His finger begins rubbing your clit directly again, causing you to jerk and gasp. He’s staring at you, forcing you to maintain eye contact through this whole degrading situation. “Someone told me something interesting a while back,” he says, his face suddenly looking serious. “They said you had a crush on me in high school. Is that true?”

“No!” you yell, tearing your eyes away from him. The only possible way this situation could be worse is if Gojo knew how you felt about him. He’d never let you live it down! He’d mock your feelings mercilessly!

“What a reaction!” he says, making you look at him again. “Don’t look away now. Look me in the eyes and tell me you never had feelings for me.”

Locked in his gaze, words fail you. You can feel your cheeks heating up, and you know the truth must be written all over your panicked face.

A grin spreads over his face again. “Say it,” he says, giving the leash another tug and rubbing your clit harder, faster.

You cry out, squirming under his touch and his stare. Your breaths catch in your throat, but he’s not going to stop until you answer him.

“I did! I did… have feelings for you!”

His finger slows but doesn’t stop. He gives you a strange look, one you’ve never seen on his smug face before. “Oh man. I wish I would’ve known back then.”

Why? So he could’ve made your life even more miserable? You feel tears coming on, but you’re still being forced to look him in the eyes. You can’t imagine how any of this could possibly be more hellish.

“But, hey, you’re here with me now,” he says. “We can make up for lost time. I’m gonna make sure you remember these six weeks for the rest of your life. I bet you’re excited, huh? The guy you had a crush on is gonna be fucking you every day! You’ll be sucking my cock all the time. I bet you can’t wait for me to cum in that cute mouth! And I’ll play with this suuuuper sensitive little clit every day!”

You sniffle as tears start to leak out. Why is he saying all this? Just to torment you? All the while, you’re feeling the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt in your life. You’re going to cum right here while your bully watches, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

Gojo is still watching you intently, those accursed eyes almost glowing, not allowing you to look away. “I know, I know it feels good,” he says in a soothing voice, his finger relentless. “I bet you’ve never felt like this before, huh? It’s okay. Just ride it out. You’re gonna feel this same pleasure every day from now on.”

It’s all too much. His heavenly eyes locked onto yours, his sultry voice in your ear, his hand at your pussy, him pulling the leash so that your face is almost touching his. You can’t hold back any longer, and an earth shattering orgasm washes over your body. The moan you let out turns into a sob, and you’re left crying freely, your body shaking.

Gojo watches the whole thing, and once you finally go still in his lap, he removes his hand and wraps his arm around you. “Now wasn’t that fun?” he asks, either oblivious to how totally overwhelmed you are or just sadistically enjoying it. Then he suddenly jerks the leash forward, causing your mouth to crash into his. He kisses you deeply, his tongue in your mouth, his hot breath melding with your own. It’s the kind of kiss you share with a lover, not… whatever nightmare this is. It’s probably his idea of a sick joke.

“Now,” he says after breaking the kiss, “want me to fuck this virgin pussy?”

You feel dazed, like your mind is going blank. You don’t even care any more. Let him mock you. At least his touch feels good, physically. It’s not like you have a choice in any of this.

“Yeah,” you mutter as he eases you off his lap.

“You have to say it properly, Chubby Bunny,” he says, standing up.

Numbly, you lower your eyes and say, “Please fuck my virgin pussy.”

“Okay, Bunny. Get on the bed.”

You stand there for a moment, feeling lost and vulnerable and uncertain. You don’t even know what you want anymore. Once upon a time, you daydreamed about the idea of losing your virginity to Gojo. You fantasized about him making love to you in some unrealistic romantic setting. So yes, some part of you does want to be fucked by him. But it’s a part you hate.

While you hesitate, Gojo unbuttons his pants, not bothering to take his shirt off. Then he pulls his dick out, and all the fog from your brain instantly clears.

Holy shit. Oh fuck. That dick is unnaturally huge. It makes your ex boyfriend look tiny by comparison. How the hell is that monster of a dick going to fit inside you?!

He notices you staring and gives you the smuggest grin you’ve seen yet. “Like it? This is the cock that’s gonna pop your cherry. Take a good look.”

You hate to admit it. You really really hate to. But that is one beautiful dick. The color, the shape, even the extravagant size… it turns you on. So fuck it. Let him do as he pleases. You start to climb onto the bed, and he adds more instructions.

“Get on your hands and knees, and face away from me.”

He’s going to take you from behind? On your first time? You’re not sure how you feel about that, but you do as he said. After you get into position, he scoots you back closer to the end of the bed, and stands behind you. You feel his hands groping your ass as he says, “I know you want me to fuck your pussy, and I will. But right now, I really want another one of your firsts.”

“What?” you ask, turning to look back at him.

He has a bottle of some kind of liquid or ointment in his hand, and he squeezes some out. You feel it hit the crack of your ass, and then his fingers spreading your cheeks and rubbing it in. Wait, is this lube?

“H-hey! What are you doing?!”

He gives you a dazzling smile. “I’m prepping you, Bunny. I told you I wouldn’t hurt you, remember?”

“This is definitely gonna hurt!” you screech. “There’s no way that huge dick will fit!”

He gives your ass a light, playful smack. “Calm down. I have a lot of experience with this stuff. It’ll feel great, I promise. Now take a deep breath.”

“Wait-“

“Here we go!”

Your body tenses up as you feel his tip pressing on your asshole. It starts to slip in, and you shudder as you feel the first inch.

Behind you, Gojo rubs and squeezes the fat of your ass. “Hey, you have to relax. It really will hurt if you stay so tense.”

You take several deep breaths, trying to force your body to loosen up. He slides in a little more, slowly, and then stops. It doesn’t feel like he’s all the way in, but he starts making shallow thrusts.

It’s uncomfortable, even unpleasant, but it’s not painful. After a while, you hear his voice again. “I’m going in a little deeper, okay?”

You squeak out an “Okay” just before he pushes further in. You feel your ass stretching to accommodate him, and the first hints of pain as he goes even deeper, then starts to pump in and out of you.

He moves slowly at first, but gradually speeds up, and goes deeper still. How big is he?! It feels like he’ll never be fully in.

“Ahh… fuck… you said it wouldn’t hurt!” you cry out.

Gojo suddenly yanks on the leash, pulling you up, arching your back. His free hand reaches around to grab your tit. “I said to relax,” he breathes into your ear. “Just enjoy it. Stop fighting your feelings.”

Again, you try to relax your ass as he continues thrusting into you. It helps, but it’s still uncomfortable. You close your eyes and try to think about how you felt in high school, how you felt the day you first saw him. He was so beautiful, you almost thought he wasn’t human. He surrounded himself with other beautiful people, and you knew those gorgeous eyes of his would never even look your direction.

Now that impossibly beautiful person is fucking you, not in the way you’d hoped, but he’s still inside you, still gripping your flesh, still grunting out lusty sounds with each thrust. He’s enjoying this. It’s probably just because he gets some kind of thrill from doing something humiliating to you, but the fact remains that Gojo Satoru is enjoying fucking you.

Thinking these thoughts makes his cock in your ass feel good. It makes your pussy wet. Eventually, it makes you cum, your body going weak as Gojo releases his hold on the leash and you fall face first onto the mattress. Your ass is still up, and Gojo is still pounding it, over and over until you hear him sharply inhale, and then his pulsing cock releases a stream of cum inside you.

After he’s completely empty, he pulls out, and you fully collapse onto the bed, exhausted.

********************

Gojo pants as he looks down at Chubby Bunny, at the plush ass he just came inside. Fuck, she’s so cute!

He lets her rest for a little while before he goes to the corner of the room and pulls out a large, round pet bed. He places it on the floor beside his own bed and waits until she sits up and looks at him.

“You’ll be sleeping here,” he says, pointing to the pet bed.

She stares at it as if she’s taking a moment to process it. Then she shrugs as if nothing surprises her anymore.

After they both clean up in the bathroom, Chubby Bunny curls up in the pet bed. She’s wearing adorable pink pajamas, and Gojo gives her a blanket before getting into bed himself. Before turning out the light, he hooks his end of the leash onto a knob he’d installed on the side of his nightstand.

“What if I have to go to the bathroom?” she asks.

“Then wake me up,” Gojo says with a smile.

“You’re not going with me, are you?”

“Nah, I’ll just unhook your leash until you come back.”

She looks relieved as she makes herself comfortable. Gojo watches her until she seemingly falls asleep, still not quite believing she’s here, with him. He really wants her to sleep in his bed with him, to feel her soft, squeezable body against his all night, but he is still her trainer. He can’t neglect his duty. So he goes to sleep, excited for tomorrow.

Tag List:

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#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo #gojo satoru #gojo smut #satoru gojo #jjk x reader #jjk smut #x reader

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ataraxiaspainting · 2 months

Text

King of Infinity.

Yan (Villain) Gojo x F Reader.

Synopsis: You don’t get the starring role. You’re partially happy about it; because you don’t have to break a leg.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships/kidnapping(?), descriptions of genocide, descriptions of corpses, manipulation, Stockholm Syndrome(ish), and degrading language against the reader.

Word Count: 1.1k.

can technically be considered a roleswap AU but up to you as geto isn’t talked about rcfncodnorjr…

*~*~*~*

“I never considered you someone who would be fond of apartments.” Satoru pushes his sunglasses up with his pointer finger as he wraps an arm around your trembling shoulders.

The same hand that holds you so very tenderly in the eyes of his followers is the same hand that turns on the lighter to envelop his cigarette in a small flame – a flame you had learned long ago to not attempt to put out, lest you would like it seared into your palm like the tattoo he forced on your neck.

‘The Star.’

“It’s a good strategy though,” Those words are the closest thing to a praise you have heard in months. They are akin to Satan reflecting on his reign of hell and comparing, considering whether or not it would be better to serve in heaven. But then he would laugh as his servants danced, not wanting any angel or God to take such bliss away from him.

Satoru had you dressed in what he considered to be the highest quality fabrics monkeys can make, while he had attire made from the sorcerers he had wrapped around his finger. Yours were not suitable for Tokyo’s snowstorms and his clothing covered up more skin than he would ever let you cover – because you aren’t him, the one he loves the most more than anything else in this beautiful world; Gojo Satoru, the special grade sorcerer that killed more than thirty thousand people in a single hour outside Jujutsu High and was never punished after that fateful evening.

You still remember that night. It is etched into your memory like a child had drawn it on a white wall. Despite everything, you will not ever be able to erase it. You will grow old and never dream of anything but him, the center of your now small universe, the only flower that is allowed to bloom under the eternal blood moon. Everything else will rot – even the earth’s shadow will not remain once Satoru’s dreams are realized. His will is all that matters now, he is the priest of the god of destruction and you are so very far below him.

A monkey. That is where you will stay and continue to be after you rot and he steps on the soil placed on top of you so you cannot breathe or scream. Only gratitude can fall from your disgusting lips because Gojo Satoru’s only fuel is the groveling of every living creature that makes up the infinite number of galaxies. He will gladly replace your tongue with the worms who decompose you if you have more to say than that. After a while, he’ll comfort you and say that it doesn’t get too bad underneath because that is your one true purpose in life; to not speak and only do.

“You didn’t cry too much this time,” The ends of Satoru’s mouth move upwards, having the freedom to do as they please because his lips aren’t sewn shut. Yours on the other hand can hardly get something that tastes pleasant. “That’s an improvement, wouldn’t you say? I’ll be sure to get you some mochi after this mission, pet.”

You’re not sure if he is talking about the car ride here or the corpses strewn across the floor – occupants of this apartment and a poor security guard that just so happened to be in the general vicinity and heard flesh being torn apart like paper.

There are glimmers coming from the knife block in the kitchen area, the sunlight hitting them just right to make them glow a silvery hue. But the idea dies as soon as you feel its warmth – almost nonexistent because of the burning cold – and slink back into the shadows where you belong, where you are meant to be.

“I never took you to be one for planning. Usually, it is Nanami who does that.”

A puff of smoke comes out, but you can still see his glowing eyes. You can always see them no matter what you do, even if you close your own, so you decide to imagine them as a different color; something less bright and more normal, something like black or brown. Sometimes you get away with it, and other times he somehow knows.

“I don’t mind it though.”

From across the street, you see the clocktower that stands at the gate of the nearest train station… or bus stop. You don’t care enough to remember which it was. Most likely the former though – you highly doubt any mere bus station would have a clock that large when said buses only hold less than fifty people.

“Will you miss me?” The tone in his voice is teasing, you think because his lighter isn’t on his lap or in his hand – it is on the little coffee table beside the sofa you two are sitting on. But you must still behave according to Satoru’s design because the placement of the flames can easily change. The comfort is cold, but it is better than a scorching hot truth.

“Yes.”

The real reason you had chosen an apartment and not some corporate office that was under the thumb of the Star Religious Group was because you wanted to be somewhere that was halfway normal. It’s selfish, you know that. But the floors are aged and not polished daily, the air smells different and the heating is at its lowest setting because the owners wanted to save a bit of money. It was oh so very selfish of you. But when you are forced to be the companion of Gojo Satoru, someone who is every definition of the word, you have to combat it in a way that won’t leave your skin black and blue.

“It’s almost eleven,” Satoru groans, stretching his arms up to the ceiling. Some blood managed to get up there along with a bit of a leather shoe, probably the husband’s. You two ignore it for different reasons that are just as strong as the other. “Be good.”

When he reaches towards the table, you think he is reaching for his lighter. But with a slight detour of his hand, he opens his wallet instead. A few thousand yen is handed to you when your eyes are closed, your mind prepared for another fight or flight response. All you get is another poke of your cheek.

“You know where the market is, don’t you? The one I took you after our date last week.”

You nod. “Would you like mochi, master?”

“No,” Satoru chuckles. “Get me something you like.”

#yes this is a jojo reference #but also an hsr achievement reference #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo x reader #yandere satoru x reader #yandere satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #yandere jjk x reader #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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