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sturniolosstar · 26 days

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matt cumming in reader’s panties and making her walk around in them all day as a punishment :((

gross!┆m.sturniolo

summary - matt finds a new punishment to keep your attitude in check

pairing - matthew sturniolo x female reader

cw - suggestive, jerking off, cum, kissing, praise, swearing, pet names, reader is a bit of a whiny baby

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‘Matt!’ Your whines of protest did nothing to stop Matt pulling up your panties; your face scrunching at the feeling of his sticky cum rubbing against your cunt.

‘I know, baby. I’m sorry’ he coos as he stands up, ‘but you crossed your limits yesterday.’

With the huff that escaped your lips and the roll of your eyes, his hand cups your chin and pulls your face to his. ‘You’re lucky this is all you’re getting.’

‘I know, m’ sorry.’ Content with your response, he presses a soft kiss to your pouted lips before walking towards the doorway.

‘Get changed, we have a lot to do today.’ and with that, he leaves and shuts the door, leaving you standing in the middle of the room with the cold feeling in between your legs.

⭑

‘Ready?’ Matt smiles at you as you come downstairs. When he receives his answer, he grabs his keys, heading for the front door.

He waits to for you to put on your shoes before interlacing his fingers with yours, ignoring the scowl on your face as he walks out the door.

‘I gotta get some things from Target for Wednesday’s video. We’re gonna go there first, okay?’ His tone is gentle, innocent compared to his actions only a few minutes ago.

‘Whatever.’ Your grumbled response causes his jaw to clench, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly as he opens the van door for you.

⭑

With his back facing you, you weren’t able to see the shit-eating grin plastered across his face as he listens to your mewls of complaints.

He grabs Nick’s requested item off the shelf, chucking it into the cart before turning around to face you.

He suppresses a smile at the way your arms are crossed, your face furrowed in irritation.

‘What’s wrong, baby?’ He tilts his head and your face drops. Is he seriously asking that?

‘You’re not listening!’

‘I am listening, baby.’ He leans down, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You wipe your cheek with the back of your hand, pushing his hands off your waist. ‘You’re not!’

‘And you weren’t listening to me yesterday. It doesn’t feel so good, does it?’ Sarcasm infused his tone as he spoke, staring down at your maddened face.

And the thing is, he was right. That’s why you fell silent.

You pushed him beyond his limits yesterday. From the attitude you woke up with, to the nasty remarks you would snap at him, to the way you ignored his warnings to stop.

He left you alone when you guys arrived home, finishing off his night routine before going to bed. You believed you were safe, giggling to yourself in the bathroom at his empty threats.

But everything became regret in the morning.

“Fuck- god.” You heard Matt groan as you walked past his room, causing you to stop in your tracks.

“Yes yes yes- so close.”

You open the door, jaw dropping when you see your boyfriend sprawled across his bed. His hand is around his hard cock, jerking up and down as he chases his high with your panties right underneath his tip.

His breathing became uneven, high pitched whines leaving his throat as his eyes furrow shut.

“Yes yes- fuck!” His head falls back, a pornographic moan leaving his mouth that leaves you wet as you watch his cum gush out his tip and onto the cotton of your panties.

He steadies his breathing, his groans heating up your cheeks as you listen to his lewd noises.

“I told you you’d get your punishment.” His tone is blunt as he stands up, pulling up his boxers and pants, redoing his belt before he gestures you towards him.

Your face screws up once again, the memory in your mind anew.

‘You see how it’s annoying?’

‘But that’s unfa-‘ Your complain gets cut short when Matt kisses the tip of your scrunched nose as he offers you an apologetic smile, his hand reaching under your skirt as he presses the fabric against your soaked pussy.

A moan threatens to escape your throat before Matt covers your mouth with his free hand.

You whine at the feeling, his cum mixing with your wetness as they both smear all over your cunt. Your hips squirm to get away from his grip. To no avail, his hand presses harder.

‘You gotta be quiet, baby. We’re in the shop remember?’ He utters softly, rubbing his index and ring finger against the cloth, whimpers leaving your mouth at the stimulation to your bud.

Your eyes well with tears, your head falling into Matt’s collar.

‘Poor thing.’ He murmurs, letting his hand fall off your mouth. You subdue your sounds by biting the soft skin of his neck, causing him to chuckle at your pathetic attempt.

Guilt seems to overtake the meanness of his actions as his fingers come to a halt, making him remove his hand.

His face softens at the sight of your state. ‘I’m sorry, honey. I know it’s hard.’

‘s’ gross!’

He smiles at your whinge, kissing the top of your head. ‘Tell you what..if you don’t complain for the rest of the day, I’ll reward you at home.’ His words cause your head to move from its resting place, lifting itself up in order for your eyes to stare into his.

He grins at the way your pupils glisten. ‘Is that what you want, sweetheart?’

‘yes please…’ Your meekly voice melts his heart.

‘Look at you, already such a good girl.’

You smile at his encouraging words as his fingers gently wipe away your stray tears.

Now all you had to do is wait for the day to end.

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a/n - LMFAO I AM SO SORRY FOR LEAVING Y’ALL please understand that i have an actual life outside of writing stories 🙁 anyways i hope this is enough until i finish my other fics, love you all <3

taglist - @btwsturn @thesturniolos @mattsbratt69 @stramboli4life @ducksturniolo @st4rhubz @sturns-posts @sturniolo14 @sturnioloenthusiast @ivonchetooo1239 @littlebookworm803 @bellas-de3d @mattsneezing @sturniofilmd @bludisnot19 @athenamossymandella @mattslolita @ellie-luvsfics @st7rnioioss @qwertytit @33sturniolo @ilovechrissturnioloo @lvrrney @ilovechrissturniolo1 @muwapsturniolo @sturniolos-blog @realuvrrr @blahbel668 @sstvrnioloo @mattslutt @draculaura123 @styles-sturniolo @wild4sturns @solarsturniolo @cypher-net @erikasurfer @pepsiluvr0209 @lacysturniolo @sillysillymatt @gamermattsgf @junnniiieee07

requested tags - @sturniololvrrr @riasturns @chrissystur @chrissbitchhh @n3-vaeh @cindylcuwho @heartss4matthewq @lvr-111 @sturniolohoe

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#sturniolosstar #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut

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vespervines · 5 months

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SHOP IS OPEN!

🔸NEW items! 🔸Baldur's Gate 3, FFXIV, D&D 🔸Open until Wednesday December 6th 🔸Estimate shipping date: mid-late January

LINK

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate fanart

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milky-aeons · 2 months

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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅

౨ৎ . . . you swore that you would never fall for a man like GOJO SATORU. but you were not immune to his looks, that suave charm, the silly personality, and before long — he had your heart right in his thieving hands.

warnings: swearing, pet-names, female reader, w.c 1.4k

: ̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔, who did not impress you the first time you had met him. Of course, he was beautiful — with a boyish face sculpted from marble and moonlight-white hair. Not to mention those eyes — telling of all the shades of blue smashed together and gifted divine power. It was not his looks that had warded you off Gojo Satoru of Tokyo's Jujutsu Tech in the beginning, but his behaviour. He was childish. He was obnoxious — he was everything you were not looking for in a companion, and yet, there would be nights you lay alone in your bed and felt that it was a bit too spacious. That maybe your life was too mundane and rigid, by the book, comfortable. There came a point where you would arrive at Jujutsu Tech bright and early and search for the shaman's jovial laugh. Expect his jokes. Look forward to parrying with him until before you knew it, he had taken up every one of your waking thoughts.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who initially believed your infatuation with the famous sorcerer was one-sided. Until there were signs — excuses to touch each other, the way he leaned down to whisper in your ear and chuckle, letting it vibrate all across your pebbling skin. He's playing with you, like he plays with everyone, was what you told yourself when your imagination ran wild with the possibilities, the what ifs. And then there were gifts; wrapped candies left on your desk, a box of four chocolate cupcakes with two already missing on your window ledge. Before you had a chance to confront the man and ask him what exactly his intentions were, like always, he beat you to the punchline.

The flyhead hovered in its spot at your doorstep, disconcerting in that way curses always were, but laughably harmless. The little spirit was not what had surprised you. It was the sliver of paper it held in its mouth. Gingerly, you took it when the flyhead jutted its chin forward. You unfolded the seam slowly, having a strange inkling as to who it could be from, but refusing to hope for it. Not until you saw his surprisingly neat cursive inked onto the page and forming the question; Go on a date with me? Circle one of these options. - Yes. - Absolutely! - I thought you'd never ask ~\(≧▽≦)/~

: ̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔, who never made dating him a boring affair. There was not a date the shaman would go on twice; partly because he liked to keep it interesting, and partly because he was the type to get bored quite quickly. Even when you both had become an item and had been together for quite some time, Satoru was the type of man to take you on the most extravagant outings, just to see that sparkle of wonder light up your pretty face. On a Monday evening, he would wordlessly leave a beautiful dress laid out on your bed and written directions to the roof-top restaurant he was taking you to, that night. Come Wednesday, and he'd warp halfway across the world, if only to spend a night with you under the city lights of New York or a romantic hotel suite in Paris.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔, who loved to show you off as much as he liked to proclaim that you were his, and no one else's. Even if it was in the most flamboyant Gojo Satoru-like way he could. Which very much included scooping you up into his strong arms in broad daylight where everyone could see, or placing a long, lingering kiss against your lips while you stood in line at the shopping mall. Sometimes, he would not-so-subtly kidnap you from whatever menial task you had become occupied with during work and proclaim loud and clear what his intentions were for everyone in the room to hear;

"Sorry folks, but me and my beautiful girlfriend have got somewhere far more excitin' to be, so if you'll excuse us, we'll be goin'~!"

: ̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔, who made it no small secret that he had inherited a generous fortune and loved to spend it on you, whenever he got the chance. Of course, you would balk at him when he offered to buy you that designer bag or those extravagantly expensive earrings just because they'd look so gorgeous on you, baby. He always assured you that money was no big deal to him, and that the old wart's back at his family estate weren't trying to buy themselves a holiday, any time soon.

"Come on, come on, let me spoil you, pretty girl. Let me get ya this dress, it's not even that pricey. No, you can't look at the tag~"

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who adored Satoru's playful side. Your boyfriend was as much a powerful sorcerer as he was a giant kid. In your spare time, you both made pillow forts in the middle of your apartment living room. He asked you for the passcode before he let you inside. Using Limitless, Satoru would drape a large blanket over your heads. And in the little fort where Gojo Satoru proclaimed himself king and you his enchanting queen, you both would snuggle together, your head on his chest, and watch silly videos about cats or dogs or anything to extend your time together.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔, who was an awful cook. He was the type of child born and raised into nobility; had received fine meals spoon-fed to him his entire life and drilled in the ways of Jujutsu — there was no real time nor reason for him to learn how to boil an egg or make simple sashimi. But you didn't mind. In fact, you quite enjoyed busying around the kitchen in your apron when you both decided to stay in that evening for dinner. He'd linger, eyeing the numerous pots and pans and pout, wondering why you would go through this trouble and not let him order the meal to the front door. Then, he'd wrap his muscular arms around your waist and pepper your neck with butterfly kisses, distracting you, making you bark out a lovesick laugh.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔, who took you walking on the Tokyo skyline during those summer nights where the air was balmy and warm. He'd hold your hands steady and wrap you both in a blanket of his Limitless, guiding you to walk across building-tops and street lamps and the highest apex of the tallest radio tower, just so you could be close to the stars. So close, that you thought if you reached out, you could almost touch them.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔, who loved when you played with his hair. There was something soothing in the way you carded your fingertips through his soft tresses he let free from his eye-mask. Sometimes, your powerful sorcerer boyfriend reminded you of a preening cat — the way his entire body stretched and hummed when you scratched his sensitive scalp. You, in turn, adored Satoru's wild undercut, the scent of oranges and expensive shampoo he used. And when his bangs became a little too long — you would instruct him to sit and take a scissors to it, loving how he relaxed into you, how he closed his eyes and let the tension of the day melt from his expression.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔, who loved to feel you close. Any chance he could, the sorcerer would find an excuse to pull you in for a hug, to drape his heavy arm over your shoulder, to place a hand to the small of your back as you walked side-by-side down the street. His favourite place to wrap you in up his arms, although, was during the night when you both laid in bed together. Whether it be you lying flush on top of his body, or him, snuggled into your chest and breathing in your scent. The feeling of you, of your warmth and your energy, always calmed his heart to a steady rhythm. Always warded off his nightmares and kept them at bay.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who griped at your boyfriend for having flawlessly complected skin. Who asked him to divulge the Gojo family secrets of skincare, only for him to offer you the cheekiest wink and say I could, pretty girl, but it's gonna cost ya one hundred kisses and at least a life-time's supply of cream and zunda-flavoured kikufuku. When you whined at him for being difficult, Satoru had showed up the next day with two sheet face-masks for you both to try. His; a brightly coloured Pikachu-inspired one, and yours; a ruby-red Charizard.

"You might think I'm lyin', but I'm serious! This is the shit they use at home to make their skin all clear! Even the wrinkly old bastards, baby!"

: ̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔, who brought you to any events the three big Houses held in the Jujutsu Calendar. You were not formally his wife, so the older members of society always looked at this gesture with sour distaste. Not like he gave a damn, any way. He would hold you on his arm and walk with confidence — with a proud expression, like he held the most beautiful girl in the room by his side. He'd introduce you to the audience with a broad smile on his face. And to end the night, he'd twirl you on the dancefloor, he'd dip you down and set a searing kiss to your lips for everyone to lay witness to. As if to say;

"This girl here, she's the love of my life. Look how amazing she is. All of you guys lookin'?"

✎ . . . requested by lovely nonnie!

WRITING REQUESTS

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #satoru x reader #gojo satoru headcanons #🎋 — writing requests #adorable dividers by cafekitsune!!

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kultofathena · 9 days

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Ronin Katana – Hand and a Half Bastard Sword #15

This late Medieval bastard sword from Ronin Katana has a tempered and sharp blade forged from 1075 high carbon steel with hollow ground blade geometry. The stiff blade will cut and thrust with authority and decisiveness. The guard and pommel are crafted from stainless steel and the grip is wood which is tightly bound in leather. The blade is mounted into the hilt with a peen over the pommel for a tough and lasting construction. The sword is paired with a wood-core scabbard which is overlaid in faux leather and fitted with stainless steel chape and locket. A simple sword belt and frog of faux leather is included.

Please Note: The sword scabbard with its buckles is arranged for wearing on the right hip for a left hand draw.

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sleepinthrumyalarms · 9 months

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— a study in demon

pairing: wednesday addams x fem!oni!reader

warnings: smut, lesbian sex, a/b/o dynamics in werewolves and demons, penetration, G!P!reader, it's demon girlcock OKAY, cockwarming, breeding kink, size kink, knotting, all characters are aged-up

summary: an unfortunate turn of events leaves wednesday with a very frustrated, very needy oni demon on her hands. what kind of girlfriend would she be if she didn't take care of her beloved?

word count: 4.5k

a/n: jesus christ, look at those warnings. this fic is a whole declaration of war. i went feral. i have nothing to say for myself. hope you enjoy

The first thing you feel when the annoying buzzing of the alarm pulls you out of your peaceful slumber is the immense heat of your body and the ache somewhere in your lower belly. A groan leaves your throat before you can even blink your eyes fully open, and you blindly reach for your phone to turn the screaming noise off.

You sit up on your bed and squint at the sunlight that streams through the tiny slit in the tightly shut curtains, opening a small calendar app that’s designed specifically for the creatures of your kind – and with a huff you realize your rut is coming in two days.

Damn it. You’ve completely forgotten about it. That certainly explains the aggressiveness and mood swings you’ve been having for the past week.

You open a new text message, sent from your girlfriend at 5:30 AM – not exactly an early riser, but definitely the type to pull an all-nighter on a school night – wishing you the most dreadful morning. You smile to yourself, and the smallest thought of her seems to be enough to motivate you to get out of bed and start the day despite the uncomfortable feeling stirring in your belly.

Thank all the gods almighty – Larissa Weems, especially – that it is still a non-uniform week at the Academy. Sitting in class with that tie wrapped around your throat like a noose would’ve killed you.

You rummage through your wardrobe, pulling out a tee and a pair of jeans, changing hastily, before your gaze falls on a particular item of clothing that definitely doesn’t belong in your closet.

It’s a black baggy zip hoodie, the one Wednesday constantly wears when out of class. It’s a surprise she has forgotten it at your place – your best guess is she must’ve left in one of your sweatshirts instead.

The fabric feels smooth in your grasp. Warm fleece lining. A bit abrasive on the outside.

Just like her.

You lift the hoodie to your face, burying your nose in the softness and inhaling.

Smells just like her, too.

Without a second thought you put it over your frame – though a bit more of a tight fit, it’s still slightly baggy on your shoulders – and zip it up, pulling the hood over your head to take another small whiff of the familiar scent.

That should get you through the day, you think.

And it does. For the first half of it, at least.

You take an extra suppressant pill during lunch, but skip the meal, opting to spend the free time in the quad to ventilate your head.

It feels better. Much, much better. Even though you don’t get to see Wednesday at the canteen.

You’re back inside for your last period – maths, and your mind gets too busy with the complicated equations and formulas to worry about the hormones running wild in your body.

You’re half-way through a very fucked-up problem with roots and sines before a strong aroma suddenly fills up your lungs – an omega’s pheromones, you realize, wide-eyed.

An omega who is in heat.

You lift your head up, giving the students around you a quick once-over – and your gaze meets a pair of golden orbs, a pretty girl with pink plump lips and fiery-red hair tied into a pony tail watches you with interest, her chin propped on her palm. As soon as you make eye-contact, she gives you a smile, revealing a small, adorable gap in the front row of her teeth.

You shake your head and smile back politely before turning back to your paper, but the rest of the class feels like you’re trapped in a suffocating cage of hot arousal that smells of yellow fruit and washed laundry.

As soon as the bell dismisses the students, you hastily pack your bag and bolt out of the door, desperate to lock yourself in your dorm room and just take care of this stupid predicament you’ve found yourself in. You’ve never been more grateful for the lack of a roommate.

“Hey, (Y/n).”

You stop and turn at the sound of your name being called, although the voice is quite unfamiliar – too melodic and gentle to be anyone you know.

“Hey, uh...”

It’s the redhead from maths. She watches you expectantly for a few moments before her face falls slightly, “It’s Dina! I was with the Black Cats last year. We met at the after party? The one Yoko hosted?” She sounds almost offended at the fact that you don’t remember her.

“Oh. Oh, right. Dina. Sorry. I’m really bad with names.” You smile apologetically.

“It’s fine. I’d be surprised if you remembered me, actually. This academy holds way too many ginger werewolves,” Dina chuckles, and falls in step with you to continue walking down the hall. “So, you up to anything right now?”

“No, not really. Just hoping to get back to the dorms and sleep my awful headache off. Been bugging me all day.”

It’s only a half-lie – your temples are still throbbing like crazy, and the pheromones you’ve smelled in class did nothing to help your case.

The werewolf tilts her head, pursing her plump lips, “Hmm... That’s too bad, because, actually...”

The smaller girl suddenly grabs your hips and pushes you – unprepared, you stumble to the side and right through the door of some random classroom. Barely able to catch your balance at Dina’s abrupt movement, your hands grasp at her forearms, desperately trying to steady the rest of your body.

“I was thinking I could help you relieve that pain of yours.”

She looks up at you, tilts her chin up slightly. The smell of citron and fresh linen suddenly fills your nose.

The same one you’ve felt in class.

The omega in heat.

Fuck.

The werewolf in front of you settles with pumping her pheromones at you wildly, her palms flitting from your hips down to your thighs, slowly closing in on your center – you do nothing to stop her, your own hands reaching behind you to grip the edge of the desk. Her eyes are glinting red now, slitted pupils never breaking eye contact with yours.

She presses her nose against your scent gland, and you feel her grin against your neck.

“I don’t smell an omega on you...” Shit. Of course Wednesday’s hoodie doesn’t smell like anything but her usual dark resins and woods scent. As much as it is alluring and recognizable to you, it’s not pheromones. “You haven’t mated with one yet? That’s just criminal... An alpha like you should spend all her ruts with a pretty omega impaled on her cock.”

You take a sharp inhale through your nose, feeling yourself throb treacherously at her words. Dina giggles softly, pressing her lips to your jaw, her mouth now inches away from yours.

“You know…” she starts sultry, voice heavy with unadulterated lust in a way that only an omega’s can sound to the ears of a rutting alpha, “I’ve never taken an oni’s knot before…”

You feel the werewolf squeeze your thighs, bare her claws in a sharp movement, “I wonder what it feels like.”

Your head is heavy, cloudy – you’re practically unable to resist, tusked mouth hanging open with small puffs of vapors fluttering out. The urge to bend the small werewolf over the desk and pound her into the wood feels even harder to resist, too.

An unpleasant feeling rattles through your chest, unbearable and disgusting. An image of dark-brown eyes and soft lips painted burgundy flashes through your mind.

You feel like you’re going to puke.

“No,” you rasp, pushing the werewolf away. “Get off me.”

Before the startled girl can retort, you stumble out of the classroom and slam the door closed, turning the key that has been left in the keyhole by some clumsy substitute.

You stumble for a moment, lifting a clawed palm to grasp at your head that has suddenly turned cloudy and heavy, and make your way towards the ladies’ restroom.

She must’ve felt the rut closing on you, and her own heat triggered it prematurely.

With shaky hands you pull out your phone, opening the messages app and texting the first person that comes to your clouded mind.

enid

bro you gotta ditch

it’s an emergency

i just stumbled into a girl

uhh dina?

she’s from ophelia hall

anyways i think she needs… help

from a fellow omega wolf

i think she hasn’t been taking her suppressants

for some fucking reason

and yk it’s not like me to live a lady in distress

but i really had to dip

i was doing her a favor by dipping actually

i locked her up on the 2nd floor

202

i really had to leave

Pressing your back against one of the bathroom stalls, you wait anxiously as three gray dots dance on the screen.

The device dingles in your hands.

oooohh

its okay

i gotchu

u should totes find weds tho

im sure she can help u out ;))

You hide your phone in your pocket and open the tap to splash your face with cold water. It eases the flush of your face, but doesn’t calm the raging beast inside.

Your fingers grasp onto the edges of the sink tightly, almost making the marble crack.

As you walk through the corridors and up the stairs of Ophelia Hall, the only thought that occupies your mind is Wednesday. Wednesday and her dark eyes and her lips and her touch and the beautiful curve of her slender hips and everything that is your mate.

You don’t bother knocking, urgently swinging the door open.

And there it is. Your (f/c) sweater, no doubt one of her monochrome striped shirts under it.

Your palms are sweating. Claws digging into your pant legs, tusks into your lip.

The small ravenette turns in her seat to look at you, her fingers stilling over the keys of her typewriter.

Her braided hair looks pristine and untouched, her posture unmatched, the image perfect even when out of public sight.

“Ma bête,” she addresses softly, brows slightly raised in question. “You’re back. And you look… a trifle uncomfortable.”

Does she not know? There’s no way she doesn’t. Such details could never slip Wednesday’s unhealthily constantly alerted mind.

“Is something wrong?”

Fuck. Of course. There it is, that cruel glint in her eyes. You should’ve known.

She wants you to say it.

You shift on your feet. The temperature is becoming almost unbearable.

“I’m…”

Wednesday watches you, tilts her head just a tiny bit forward — dark, haunted eyes deadpan, staring you down, her jaw tightening slightly and relaxing in a way that is barely noticeable but has your gaze flicking down to the enticing slant of her neck.

“I’m… in a rut.” You admit, finally.

Wednesday’s eyes widen slightly — her posture straightens even more, the glint in her eyes turning dangerous, “Oh.” Yes, oh, as if she wasn’t aware. “Why are the suppressants not working?”

Should you admit that the small encounter with the horny omega has sent your hormones spiraling?

Wednesday is by no means a normal human, yet her nose lacks the capability of sensing alpha pheromones. Nevertheless, she can read you like a book, and she probably was aware of your coming rut long before you were. She simply likes abusing the knowledge.

“It must be bad then, if it has you reduced to such a pathetic state,” the goth tuts, drumming her fingers against her desk. “Pure torture, isn’t it, bête? I wish I could help you…”

Wednesday turns back to her paper, shrugging noncommittally, “Unfortunately, it is my writing hour, and you know how much I would detest an intervention in my schedule.”

You whine as the drumming of her keys resumes – like a kicked puppy, you turn to reach for the doorknob, prepared to return back to the restroom and take care of yourself to the thought of your ever-so beautiful and unyielding girlfriend.

Wednesday’s fingers still on the typewriter.

“But I suppose… We can reach a consensus.”

The legs of her chair scrape against the hardwood floor, and you turn to find Wednesday standing next to the desk, palm resting on the back of the seat invitingly.

“Come here.”

You’re beside Wednesday before the whole command can escape her mouth, and she gives a small, amused huff that almost has you howling and gnawing at furniture, then gestures at the chair, “Sit. Unbutton your pants, underwear off.”

You reach to do as told, pulling at a pant-leg to finally discard the constricting garment before the ravenette slaps your hand, “Just the button and the zipper, (Y/n). Do not make me repeat myself.”

You gulp and take a seat at her desk, tugging the elastic of your boxers down to free the hard shaft.

The dark, intense gaze Wednesday is watching you with makes you blush and throb, excitement and arousal mixing with the slightest of embarrassments only her presence can induce.

“Good girl,” she hums, circling the chair like a hunting lioness. “I will allow you to be inside me, just this once. I will not allow you to touch me in any other way. If I feel any movement, internal or external, you will be punished. And by no means are you allowed to cum. Not without my permission. Are the instructions clear, beast? Nod your empty little head if affirmative.”

You nod with a small whimper at the derogatory words, though they do nothing to soothe the aching hardness between your legs.

“Good, good. Well, since the terms are settled, I shall get started.”

Before you can respond, Wednesday steps closer to the desk, slightly flipping her skirt with a quick movement of her hand and letting you catch the smallest of glimpses of her pretty pussy – the show is over before you can marvel though, and the seer sits on your lap, your length pressing against her lower back.

Like this, with no distance left between you, her scent is encompassing your whole being. No pheromones can compare to the way Wednesday smells, the rich, woodsy notes of a forest soaked in rainwater luring you in as you take a small inhale.

You bite back a growl, but a small noise of frustration still manages to reach the ravenette’s sharp hearing.

“Quiet, beast.” She scolds, her tone of voice far from playful, and reaches to straighten her skirt carefully, flicking the non-existing dust off the garment in a graceful movement of her palm.

Then, before you can downright keen with impatience, the same hand moves behind to wrap around your hard member, giving it a squeeze so light it is almost torturous – Wednesday lifts her hips and presses the head against the warmth of her entrance.

That first contact feels like electricity and fire in your belly, worsened when you feel your cock split her lips open, stretching her taut around it, and the smallest worry that you might just not fit passes through your rut-clouded mind.

Then again, Wednesday might not even be merciful enough to sheathe you fully inside her, but the thought of being too big to be properly seated in her cunt is tantalizing and excruciating at the same time.

A small, relieved sigh escapes Wednesday’s lips – the sensation of being filled up with you is like no other, and she can’t help but relish in it despite her aggravation. She takes her time, feeling every inch push deeper inside her and stretch her out, the thick shaft splitting her open, then her thighs press into yours and she stills completely.

If she had to, the goth would put all the time and work in to stretch herself out with your girth, to take all of you inside her like she was molded just for that single purpose. It’s not like Wednesday has something to prove to anyone – or maybe she has, to you, that no one else at Nevermore could take you so well and make all your resolve, might and dominance provided to you by nature, or by gods, or by whatever entity has created such a delectable beast as you crumble under her and make it natural for you to submit to the seer.

And oh does submissiveness look good on you, too – or at least it sounds good, if your heavy breathing mixed with quiet whines hitting her ear is anything to go by.

Wednesday is reminded of her goal suddenly when she feels your hips buck instinctually into her, and the ravenette has to hold back a sound of pleasure at the movement, because she can’t fight how incredible the pressure feels, making her velvet walls flutter. She’s still holding the reins when she tightens her pussy around your throbbing dick purposefully, a trace of a small smirk on her plush burgundy lips at the needy and wanton groan that escapes your mouth.

That was a good enough treat, she thinks. Now to the sticks.

Wednesday kicks you in the shin with the side of her loafer, pulling you out of your pleasure-induced trance and making you flinch.

“Move closer to the desk, beast. I need to be able to reach the keys in order to type.”

You grunt, shuffling the chair closer with your weight, nudging Wednesday’s body forward, and the slightest shift makes you hiss — she slides a few inches up your shaft before she’s at the base again, seated nice and snug, her thighs resting on yours. Your hands fall to grapple at them, and you receive another painful kick.

“No. Hands off. If you are unable to control yourself, I will shun you out.” Wednesday scolds, though has to hide the effect the feeling of your claws curling around her have, and fails. Her voice sounds more breathless than she has intended.

She has a hard time admitting to herself how torturous this is for her, too. The seer sneaks a glance down to where the thick shaft splits her open, so tight she can practically feel it throbbing against her clit. A small bead of precum runs down, skirting one of the throbbing veins.

Wednesday’s restraint is laudable.

“Messy creature,” she murmurs, her tone surprisingly soft, before the paper in front of her takes over her attention again. Straightening her back, the ravenette goes back to her writing as if she’s not full of demon cock right now.

You try to focus on the rapid clatter of the keys, on the way Wednesday’s elegant fingers dance over the typewriter, maybe try and catch a glance of the words the girl is printing on the paper. Anything to pull your mind away from the tight warmth hugging your aching cock, from weight of the small body pressed against you.

The demon inside of you is raging, howling, salivating between huge tusks. The monster is not as prejudiced as the fellow oni of your clan are – it doesn’t care if it’s another demon or a human you’re nestled inside. It demands the frail body pressed against your own is filled up and bred, demands the goth takes all of you, stretching around your swollen knot before it's barely able to slip inside.

Not just any body. Or some omega. Wednesday. Wednesday who isn’t even a part of that animalistic system, but the beast begs for more, wants all of her more, more with each passing second.

A growl mixed with a whimper escapes your mouth – you have no idea what to do with your hands, so you press them into the edge of the table on either side of Wednesday’s typewriter, claws digging into the dark wood. The involuntarily display of strength has the small female tightening around you with a gentle hitch of her breath, making you groan.

“Wednesday,” you rasp through clenched teeth. “I can’t. Please. I’m losing control.”

“O-oh, are you?” The goth inquires mockingly, hoping you don’t take notice of her slight stutter.

“Mhm,” you nod dumbly. “Wanna take you so bad. Wanna fuck you full of me.”

Wednesday can’t fight the way her pussy constricts around you again, though the determination not to lose control remains, strong as ever. She abandons the keys to reach a hand into your hair, grabbing a fistful of (h/c) locks to pull and make you meet her gaze, “Whose is it, (Y/n)?”

You furrow your brows in confusion, making Wednesday’s frown deepen – a hint for the right answer comes in the form of the seer’s hips lifting and rocking back down, the friction making you hiss.

“Answer me.”

“Yours.” You swallow. “Yours, Wednesday. Every- every inch is.”

“Good. Good girl.” She coos, easing her hold on you to rake her short nails down the back of your neck, making goosebumps litter your body. “Bed, beast. Now.”

A low growl rumbling in your chest and vibrating against her back is the only warning Wednesday gets before she’s lifted into the air sharply.

In a rough, barely controlled movement you stand up so fast you topple the chair over, flipping the girl with ease and walking a couple of steps to press her against the bed, the ravenette’s cunt still snug around your shaft. A clawed hand reaches for a pillow hastily to cushion Wednesday’s head, the last resemblance of caring gentleness in your actions before you pull out to the tip and buck back inside.

Wednesday’s head snaps back, mouth falling open in pleasure as you pin her down into the mattress, fucking hard into the welcoming, tight warmth of her pussy. Despite the dynamics of oni demons still being fairly alien to Wednesday – not as alien apparently, as she knows the frequency and signs of your rut better than you do and isn’t opposed to using it against you – she now seems to understand the appeal of being absolutely destroyed by an alpha that omegas in heat are so partial to.

As delectable as the thought is, it rekindles the spark of possessiveness that she thought has almost been extinguished. The goth wraps her arms around your shoulders, pulling your bodies flush together.

Hers. No one else’s.

Not some other depraved omega girl’s so desperate to get a taste of you.

“You foolish brute.” She pants as if it’s your fault you seem to be irresistible to other women, voice trembling slightly, her breath completely pushed out of her lungs with each of your thrusts. “You better make good on your promise and breed me like a good alpha should.”

The monster inside you roars at the proposition that is so obviously supposed to be taunting. Your palms slide down the girl’s waist, thumbs brushing against the protruding hipbones to dip into the supple flesh sitting low under her navel, holding her tightly, almost hard enough to bruise and match the brutal pace of your hips rutting into Wednesday, your cock splitting her open deliciously in a toe-curling sensation that has Wednesday’s head falling back against the dark pillows.

The sight under you has you growling savagely – your tongue lolls out to lick a thick stripe up the exposed skin of the ravenette’s neck before you bite down, huge tusks clasping around her throat and keeping Wednesday in place completely, her pulse wild against the rough surface of your muscle. Her pussy constricts around your cock, clamping down hard in an attempt to keep the thick shaft buried to the hilt every time you pull out and quivering when you slam back inside and fill her up enough for the tip to kiss the entrance of her womb, never letting the small female catch her breath.

The lustful fog of ardent fervor clouding Wednesday’s brain doesn’t numb her to the sensation of a swelling at the base of your shaft nudging against her opening every time your hips meet hers. It threatens to push in, catches deliciously on Wednesday’s clit with each thrust and she can feel herself getting painfully close.

But she will not. For the sake of the one thing she wants more than anything else, the goth will deprive herself.

“Knot me.” She rasps into your ear, her feet pushing into your lower back to urge you deeper inside. “Mia bestia, mia alfa. Dentro. Ven dentro di mi.”

You’d have no clue what she has just said on a normal day, and you have zero idea right now, buried eight inches deep inside of her, but the breathless, desperate pants of Italian have you turning feral. In one last brutal thrust the knot slips past Wednesday’s tight lips and inside, stretching and filling her so thoroughly and impossibly delicious it has her eyes rolling into the back of her head. A spill of wetness from her own release rushing forth as she clamps down on your cock lubes her aching walls, helping the bulging slide in firmly.

Your lips gravitate to hers, pulled to her like a magnet, and you growl into her mouth as your cum spills hotly, taking up any remaining space inside the small female and her walls ripple, begging for more. Wednesday's arms tighten around your shoulders and legs squeeze around your hips to keep you close.

You throb with sated completion, press lazy kisses to the seer’s brow and flushed cheeks, and watch as her eyes flutter open to meet yours, her chest heavy with steamy breaths.

“Too hot, huh?” You ask, jaw slack slightly.

Wednesday gives a weak nod, and you reach to tug the sweater off her shoulders, then unzip her skirt to slip it down her pale legs, leaving the girl in just her striped shirt. The newly exposed skin provides better contact for you to revel in – you purr in satisfaction and move to join the seer on the bed, careful not to crush her, and maneuver her small body in your palms to pull her on top of you.

Wednesday huffs but doesn’t resist, nudging at your neck with her nose and pressing a soft kiss to your jugular in an uncharacteristic display of affection.

“How did you find out?” You murmur, lifting your hands to start undoing one of the ravenette’s loosened braids leisurely.

“I have my ways.”

You hum at the vague reply, now certain that the disembodied hand following you around the whole day wasn’t just your imagination playing tricks, “I hope you know I had no intention to lie to you or anything. You just- you didn’t exactly give me a chance to speak.”

“Your explanation wasn’t necessary. I’m well aware of what happened.” The movement of the seer’s plush lips tickles your skin pleasantly, her voice now void of its previous detachment.

You smile softly, finished with unbraiding her hair, your fingers threading through the silky raven locks, careful not to give an accidental tug. Wednesday closes her eyes at your touch, and the tranquility of the moment has you feeling like a cat basking in warm sunlight, despite the object of your passions being a complete opposite to it.

“I’ll have to consult Enid on the topic of which herbs are the deadliest to werewolves.”

“Wednesday.”

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x reader smut #wednesday addams smut #wednesday x reader #wednesday x reader smut #wednesday smut #wednesday imagine #wednesday x female reader #wednesday #wednesday addams #wlw smut

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randomshyperson · 6 months

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Lacy - Werewolf!Reader x Wanda Maximoff - Kinktober #07

Summary: This Halloween, Wanda receives a surprise visit from her favorite werewolf. The problem is that it's very difficult to keep a crush hidden during mating season.

Warnings: (+18), mutual pining, semi-public, very vague allusions to omega verse, beefy!reader, power!bottom wanda, a bit rough but they are actually sweet to each other, some praising and dirty talk. | Words: 3.144k

A/N-> First, I know nothing about werewolves. It was never my thing growing up (I’m a witch type of person I suppose) but I know about omegaverse stuff and since it’s wolf-based I tried some references from that lore. Also, I was totally thinking about Wednesday's show (and Wenclair ship tbh) when writing the school but you all be free to image whatever you wish. Also, the name is from Olivia Rodrigo’s song, ‘cause it’s such a friends-to-lovers/mutual pining coded lyrics. Good reading folks!

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

The mating season was always the most tiring part of the year.

Even as a child, her days were marked by hard work and running errands - her mother was always very busy with orders, and somehow, the twins were obliged to finish the tasks in record time, so as not to delay the calendars and keep Natalya busy when her customers needed her.

As the largest and most respected apothecary in the country, Natalya Maximoff was also one of the biggest dealers in magical items - and this also included natural suppressants. Her customers wrote to her from all over the world, many famous packs like the Romanoffs or the Howletts only bought her products, and the witch was always very busy at this time of year.

So when their mother told them that she would leave the Maximoff Magical Articles Boutique in their care for two whole days, while she delivered packages around the world, none of them were surprised, as this had been done dozens of times before.

Wanda's indignation stemmed from the fact that her twin brother, as soon as there were no more magical remnants of the portal his mother had conjured to travel through, put on a jacket and told her he was leaving.

"But you can't leave me alone!" Wanda hurried away from the counter. Pietro chuckled, adjusting his hat on his silver hair. Since he had turned 18 last month, he had grown a good few centimeters, and even with her best serious expression, Wanda, who hadn't grown much since she was 15, no longer succeeded in frightening him. That, and well, like his father, Pietro had a bastard heritage of lycanthropy, and with his new skills, he had also gained extreme confidence.

"What, you gonna tell me you're scared of some little wolves?" He sneered, his fangs protruding from his smile. Wanda huffed angrily, her cheeks slightly red. "Don't be silly, Wanda. You're a witch. Nobody's is crazy enough to mess with you."

He tries to pat her on the shoulder, but Wanda pushes a finger against his chest. "I'm not afraid of any wolves, you selfish idiot! Mom says the store is our responsibility. And you're sneaking off to do who knows what! I don't want to spend all night looking after this place on my own. Apart from the season, it's Halloween, and kids go apeshit and-"

"Jesus, Wanda, I'll make it up to you!" He cuts in, already pulling away and ignoring the other girl's protests. "I've got to go, I'm taking Crystal to the movies, then we'll settle up!

"Pietro!" But the call was ignored and the store door was slammed in her face.

Wanda huffed to herself. She could survive a Halloween night, but her brother would owe her a lot if he didn't want to be snitched on. She returned to the counter, texting him another dozen curses before texting to her mother that everything was under control.

And lucky for her, that's how the evening actually went.

Most of the few customers who showed up were locals, a few sorcerers in need of ingredients, and even a traveling vampire who needed to replenish some reserves for a long trip. Some children also asked for candy, and tired of getting up so often, Wanda decided to leave the jars outside.

It was almost at the end of her shift, when she was ready to close the shop, that a delicious smell wafted into the room. Wanda, who was distracted by the holiday lessons that the institute where she studied always offered when there were short vacations or not, was snapped out of her concentration by the fascinating smell. She looked up just as a figure stumbled into the store, covered by a school uniform hood.

She didn't need you to remove the cap to recognize you, and yet, when your face became visible, Wanda felt her heart unlearn how to beat properly.

"Good evening?" You looked between the shelves, approaching the cashier, only to hesitate as soon as you saw Wanda. "Oh, h-hi. Uh, is Madame Maximoff around?"

You looked uneasy, adjusting your hair and fiddling with your fingers. Your flushed face must have been due to the walk from the Institute to the store.

Wanda shook her head as she replied: "She had some orders to place. How can I help you?"

The color of your face deepened, and you couldn't look her in the eye for more than two seconds. "Hmm, I kind of need... suppressants." And it was the turn of Wanda's face to heat up. You continued talking anxiously. "I thought I still had some, but my reservation ran out, and since I'm in the dorm, I wouldn't want to... well, would you have any left? I know it's very short notice but I really need it."

Wanda nodded quickly, equally at a loss for words. You see, if you were any other of her werewolf colleagues, the situation might even be comical. She wasn't like Pietro and didn't make friends very easily, but she shared the same taunting nature. One horny wolf in the store and Wanda would have jokes for the rest of the year. But it was you, her longtime secret crush, emanating a very pleasant scent and in need of something so intimate that Wanda could barely control her own thoughts about what other ways she could help you if there were no other suppressors in the store.

"My mom usually sells everything before the season starts, but I can look in the warehouse to see if we have any leftovers. I'll be right back." She says, smiling softly at your anxious figure.

Wanda has never seen you in heat before; the mating seasons for new wolves begin at the end of puberty, between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, and the vast majority of her werewolf classmates at the Institute return to their packs at this time of year, already matched with their partners in the traditions of the lycanthrope. Wanda only knows about the rituals from her father's family, because each clan, from the Vampires to the witches, is very private about it all. Witches like her mother, who specialize in all kinds of products, are the exceptions.

Wanda tries the storeroom next to the counter, but after a few boxes, she snorts in frustration. Her mother really did sell everything, and she almost reprimanded you for not planning properly. For older, mismatched wolves, being without suppressors could be really dangerous. For you, a new werewolf, it would only be quite painful. It was easier for her to feel sorry.

And while she tried the last few shelves at the back of the storeroom, you grew even more restless outside. Wanda had no idea how intoxicating the essence of a witch, especially a witch one cared about, was. If you hadn't been so desperate, you would have given up going into the store as soon as you could smell her from around the corner, but then again, your brain wasn't working very rationally right now.

And there was also a scarf on the counter, Wanda's most characteristic item since she had received it as a gift so many years ago. Many of the times you've noticed her, she's worn the item around her neck and it made sense that her scent was so strong in the room, even though she was upstairs.

Your limbs moved by instinct, you didn't have to think much, just let yourself be guided by the urge to exhale that distinctive smell more deeply.

Your face was pressed against the scarf when Wanda reappeared, and her confused giggle made you jump away mortified.

"Are you all right there?" She ventured, receiving a very quick and embarrassed nod. Wanda chuckled again in amazement, and without caring much about your current condition, she approached. "I looked upstairs, but my mother sold everything, sorry. There's something else you might like to try, maybe a calming potion so you can sleep while... well, this happens to you."

You quickly agree, still embarrassed at being caught. Wanda doesn't mind, if anything, she always found it very entertaining how different you were from the other werewolves she knew; loud and confident to the point of being idiotic. Pietro was a prime example. And if it wasn't for your distinctive stature, she could easily have assumed from your shy and careful personality that you were just an ordinary human, perhaps a mermaid from the way you seemed to bewitch Wanda's attention all to yourself.

"I'm sorry." You mutter suddenly, while she is searching for a sleeping potion on the shelf under the counter. Wanda turns her face up in confusion, but you're looking away. "From the scarf, I know it's... weird. But my body seems to be acting on its own. Just forget about it when we get back to school, okay? I'll be normal when it's over."

"Don't worry, I don't mind." She assured meekly, before finally finding some bottles that could help you and taking them back to the counter. She bit her lip at the way you were panting, and the way your trembling fingers pulled some notes and coins out of your pocket. "You can take these two vials today, and this one in the morning if you're still..."

"Horny'?" You joke, and take Wanda by surprise, but she manages to return the short laugh. Your hands push out the money and she turns away to pack the vials into a small bag. "So, one now and two tomorrow."

Wanda quickly denies it. "No, darling, two now and one tomorrow. Are you... are you sure you're all right? You're sweating-"

"Just give me a minute." You interrupt her with a gasp, the sudden wave of heat catching you completely off guard. The room starts to spin, and for a whole moment, all you can feel is your own arousal and the way you want to touch the witch in front of you. Your body gives way, and your hands force down on the counter, disastrously strong enough for the wood to crack. Wanda jumps in fright, worried, but you grunt quietly. "Shit, I'm really sorry-"

She hurries around the counter, and her soft hands make you jump away. "Hey, it's okay, I just want to help you stand up."

But you gasp in despair, wrenching your body away from her. "Don't touch me, Wanda, for God's sake." You grunt, and if you hadn't sounded so affected, Wanda would have taken offense. Instead, she stands ready to catch you if you lose your balance again, and that's exactly what happens. This time, your weight falls forward, and Wanda's body serves as a barrage.

Your wolfish weight is almost too much for her, and it doesn't help that your face is buried against her collarbone, and your arms embrace her clumsily. "Hm, so soft." She hears you sigh, as she struggles to drag you over to the reading area of the store's bookshelves, where there's a sofa to put you on. When you fall into the cushions, you look up with dreamy eyes and an easy smile playing on your lips. Wanda gasps softly from exhaustion.

"Wait here a moment, okay? You feel like you're burning up with a fever. I'll get you some water." She explains, but it doesn't seem like you're listening very much, disconcerting her with the way you're looking at you so discourteously, your pupils dilating. Wanda adjusts a strand of hair, self-conscious under your gaze. "I'll be right back."

She practically runs out of there, and alone, realizing her own hands are trembling as she remembers the sensation of having your body against hers. She shakes her head to push the thought away, you were clearly in a vulnerable moment right now, and Wanda doesn't think she'll survive the shame of being rejected once the heat wears off.

When Wanda returns with the water, she almost drops the glass on the floor. You haven't moved, but you've changed position, limp against the sofa, evidently rubbing yourself down the item as you whimper.

"Oh, detka, let me help you." Wanda abandons the glass on a shelf, and rushes to your side, kneeling beside the sofa. You gasp in embarrassment, trying to escape her gaze, but Wanda's hands grab your warm face. "Let's go upstairs. I'll make it better." She whispers the invitation, but the thought alone is enough for you to grunt in affection and pull her face towards you.

It's a hungry kiss, and the position doesn't help. Wanda has to grab your shoulders to keep from falling to the floor and ends up breaking into a giggle when a moment later it's you who's throwing yourself at her, desperately kissing her as if she's going to disappear.

The lightness disappears quickly. She feels very hot and bothered, especially when your tongue slips into hers as if you already knew exactly how to kiss her, and your hands touch her entire body with determination. Her plea for you to slow down turns into a moan when your knee pushes between her legs.

It's almost primitive the way you seem willing to have her right there on the floor, angrily trying to pull her clothes off while your moans mingle. Wanda's face burns and she struggles to match the kiss, losing that battle all too easily when your palms begin to stimulate her nipples.

She can feel the wetness begin to bother her through the fabric of her panties, and perhaps, you can smell it too, because you grow more impatient, and begin to murmur disconnected compliments into her skin, your hands reaching down to unzip her pants. Wanda chokes between moans, practically whimpering when your fingers find her so ready.

You enter her, all at once, without a second thought. You suck on her tongue as she squeezes your fingerprints and soaks your hand. It's dirty and rough, and Wanda couldn't hold back even if she tried. Yet the store door opens, and she has to bite down hard on your shoulder to muffle her own noises.

Whoever the customer is, asking if there's anyone there or if the store is open, Wanda makes sure they don't see her. Her eyes are scarlet, and it's never been harder to do a concealment spell than it is now, with your fingers thrusting inside her as if the world around you hardly mattered. Finally, the customer leaves and her magic plays its part in locking the door before Wanda digs her nails into your back and comes against your fingers.

It's not enough - Nothing seems to be. You continue your movements inside her until Wanda is spasming again, begging for a pause. Your hungry mouth finds its way into her most intimate place then, just to tear more pleasure out of her. She loses count of how many times she comes, on your fingers and tongue, until the whole store smells of sex.

Fuck, she has to move you before Pietro comes back.

It's only when you let her breathe, retreating like a wounded wolf, that Wanda notices the puddle of moisture on your pants. You came at the mere act of watching and touching her.

"Hey, are you okay, sweetheart?" She coos gently, propping herself up on one elbow now that you're lying on your back, one arm over your face. Your clothes are as torn as theirs, but there are many more marks on her body than on yours.

You sniffle quietly, and Wanda looks at you with concern. "Why didn't you stop me?" you ask upset, and Wanda stares in shock for a moment. Then, swallowing dryly, she works up the courage:

"You didn't want this?"

But your reaction is to laugh incredulously. "Of course, I wanted it, Wanda! But I'm talking about you. Why didn't you stop me? You're a witch, you could have knocked me down, look at you! You're all purple, and I... God, I can't believe I... hurt you."

She climbs into your lap before you can despair, ignoring your soft protest and grabbing your crying face. "I haven't stopped you because I've wanted you to since we met." She assures you determinedly, caressing your cheeks. "I'm in love with you, you idiot."

Sniffling softly, you raise hopeful eyes. "Really?"

Wanda smiles, her weight against your chest. "Really." She assures you. "And don't worry about the marks, I... like it rough."

You groan in embarrassment, looking away and amusing her. There's a moment's pause, and then finally: "I like you too."

Wanda bites back a smile. "I got that impression, you know? When you were all whiny on me."

Your laugh is sincere and shy, and Wanda kisses you as your hands grip her thighs. But before she can deepen it the way she'd like, you break again.

"Thanks for helping with the heat... but I'll take you on a date after this. I promise."

She pulls on your bottom lip with a provocative bite. "I'll charge." She assures you in a naughty whisper, and you sigh contentedly as she presses your hips together. Smooth movements, and you're already seeing stars again.

Your breathing becomes shorter, and Wanda traces her fingers along your jaw, while her other hand moves down. "I bet you're all warm and tight."

You sigh, closing your eyes and nodding in agreement. Wanda kisses you leisurely, also taking time to slide her fingers into your pants and assess the effects of everything so far. She's not surprised by the immense wetness, but the sensation of sinking into you is overwhelming. She can feel ready for another when she starts to stimulate you and watches you squirm beneath her.

"So good... don't stop..." You moan helplessly, and the grip on her thighs is almost strong enough to hurt. Wanda makes a mental note of how to make you lose control of your strength, before curling her fingers inside you and being rewarded with the sweetest sounds in the world. "W-Wanda!"

She decides she likes it very, very much when you whimper her name like that. She continues her motions a few more times until you come hard on her fingers. Wanda thrusts a few times, before removing them and bringing them to her mouth, sucking them clean while you try to catch a breath.

Your murmurs are labored, and Wanda kisses your cheek a few times. "Come on upstairs, sweet baby, I'll take care of you." She tries to get up, but your hands steady her on your lap.

It's almost ridiculous how easily you lift the two of you, and Wanda has to hold onto your shoulders, chuckling softly at your uncertain stumbles on the way upstairs.

She'll have time to look after the store when you fall asleep. Right now, she's more focused on kissing you again.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff oneshots #kinktober 2023 #wanda maximoff smut #marvel imagines

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angelwhisp3rs · 3 months

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pretty girl

Pairing: DI!Leon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Leon met his new obsession in the college girl that is his friends daughter.

Tags: Smut; fluff; p in v; oral (f/m); loss of virginity; there's an age gap (i imagined reader being 23-25 and leon 37; he only met her as an adult, so no icky age stuff); breeding kink; a slight daddy kink; innocence kink (both are consenting adults! reader is not dumb and knows about it, and she teases leon with it, like a little minx!)

Notes: this fic has a slight darker theme (VERY LITTLE because a lot would go against my values), so if you feel uncomfortable with that, please don't read it! i have other fics that might be better suited for you! stay safe!

Also, this was one of my old fics!

The city always felt empty to her. Sure, she had her dad with her, but it was always missing something. Her dad is always off to god knows where, probably on his so called “missions”, while she had her studies and college classes.

After that fateful day, Wednesdays became her favorite day of the week, as it was the day where Leon came to a cookout to celebrate one of their missions. With only one look, everything changed - as their eyes met each other, she knew she was his. His gaze gave her chills, the blue of his eyes showed a sea of emotions that she couldn’t pinpoint. He gave her a passing smile, and after that, hurricane Leon was a part of her day-to-day life.

At first, Leon wasn't really present at the usual football dinners or barbecues her father was used to having after every successful mission.

After some weeks, the man and her dad became close friends, since they fought together, saving lives. Her dad, however, had no idea that Leon wanted to fuck the brains out of his “treasure”. Whenever he had his famous barbecues on Sundays, he missed how hungry Leon looked at the girl, how her pretty dresses flowed, and always teased him of seeing the parts that he really wanted.

As their friendship grew, so did Leon's feelings. He felt like a pervert because of their age gap, but it was impossible to resist her smile, her laughs, her curves and her personality. He saw how the perverted fucks of the agency looked at her, and it always made him want to shoot every single one of them. He craved to claim her, showing her around as his, showing that these poor idiots would never have a chance with her. He knew that was impossible, until her dad died, so he did the best thing he could think of: he gave her gifts.

Whenever they went on long missions, Leon bought dresses, creams, perfumes and lingeries to give to her. Of course that the last items were a secret between him and her. It was really tough, but whenever he saw her wearing the special gifts, his heart and cock were pumped full of blood.

So, he asked her, as a courtesy, to always model to him in private her gifts. She loved it. Leon looked at her with adoration, and such a penetrating look, that she couldn’t quite figure out the emotions behind them. But god, if she didn’t lose herself in his arms whenever he hugged her, and he touched her body as if he was inspecting his gift: her. Those were her favorite times, because she always came home with wet panties and hard nipples, so desperate for his touch.

Because of her father's protectiveness, and her hectic life, she had no experience, whatsoever, but she wasn’t dumb. She knew of the game of attraction they played, and knew how her so-called “innocence” turned Leon on to the point where his cock got too hard to touch. She wanted him to go crazy on her.

Leon was also aware that she wasn’t a hopeless innocent woman, it was all a fantasy that she happily indulged him every time.

After some time, some rookies got admitted to the D.S.O, and they casually made their way to the usual hangouts. She felt excited to have new faces in the usual events that her dad holds, but consistent socializing always tired her out. Because of it, she usually secluded herself in her room for some time - and her dad knew all about it, so it wasn’t news to him.

In one of the events held at her place, Leon returned from the bathroom and she was nowhere to be seen. The man grew worried, and went in looking for her. As he opened her bedroom door, he saw his pretty baby laying down tired on her bed. He approached her, caressing her head “Are you okay, baby girl?”

She nodded, smiling softly at him “Just overwhelmed, don’t worry about it”

His heart softened, and went to sit on her bed, pulling her sideways on his lap. The older man's arms wrapped her in a tight hug, and shushed her.

He pressed gentle kisses at her forehead, trying to make her feel better.

“You always know how to make it better, don't you?” She giggles, then nuzzles her nose in his neck. Fuck, she could feel herself getting wetter from his scent.

The man laughs at that, and he could also feel his cock hardening. He realized he had the perfect moment to have her to himself, and he wasn’t crazy to waste the opportunity. “You didn’t model to me the clothes you are wearing, darling” His hands move up her legs, massaging them slowly.

She looks at him with wide eyes. “I’m so sorry, I had to help my daddy organize the barbecue today as he was running behind”.

Leon chose to ignore the tingling feeling he had whenever the word “daddy” came out of her pretty lips. “It’s okay, sweet thing” He pressed a kiss to her forehead “you can show me now, can’t you?”

She nods at him, then she starts talking sweetly, almost if the previous moment didn’t happen with that disgusting man. “Well, my dress you gave me last summer”.

He hums, passing his hands all over her body, feeling how the fabric behaves against her soft skin. “I remember it, pretty girl. Love seeing you wear it” His nose glides against her throat, creating goosebumps on her sensitive skin.

She giggles at his comments “that’s why I always wear it.” She feels him smiling at her neck, then keeps going to the most interesting part to both “and i’m wearing the pretty panties with the pink bow, the ones you gave me recently”.

He smirks, his voice getting huskier. “They are your favorite, isn’t it? Show me, sweet baby.” His hands move up her thighs, raising the hem of her dress to her waist.

She opens her legs slightly, so he has a better view. She prays he can’t see her arousal, she doesn't want to come off as easy, but it’s just too damn hard to resist him. The panties were her favorite for one thing only: how soft they feel. The white fabric was satin-like, and the bow on top made her pussy look like a gift wrapped for Leon's delight.

His hands start massaging her hips, fingers passing through the fabric, not low enough to touch her clothed pulsing clit. His fingers trace the bow, and the hem of the garment, feeling how temping such little fabric can be. He couldn’t help but snicker as whenever his hands moved a little bit lower, her legs seemed to open a little bit more.

He pressed kisses on her throat now, rewarding how much of a good girl she is, showing herself to him, becoming a needy slut in his lap as soon as he touched her. “Good job, sweet girl. I’m so happy that you like my gifts.”

One of his hands moved to the top of the dress, tracing the pearl button in it. After some moments and soft whines from her, he moved a little bit to the side, tracing delicate circles where her nipples are. “Where is your bra, baby?”

Her pretty face hides in his neck, and she quietly murmurs “Didn’t want to wear it with this dress”.

With that, like a hunter preparing to feast on its prey, he smirks, and tells her with a condescending tone: “Oh, my pretty girl is not wearing one now? Is it too much with your pretty dress, baby girl?”

She nods and gives him a pout, knowingly starting that seduction game they played. Her cunt was wet and needy, pulsing for him. She was sure that it was red and puffy, and Leon was all aware of it.

He tuts, one finger circling her nipple, other two lowering dangerously to unexplored places. “It’s okay, darling, you are always so good, let me think for you, okay? I’ll treat you well, not like any other man out there, angel”. He proceeds to lightly trace his fingers to her lower lips, going up and down, not pressing any force, just traveling his fingers to her precious pussy.

Her slick starts to wet his fingers further, she now fully lays on Leon’s chest, legs wider than ever. The soft moans and whimpers leaving her mouth were music to him, his cock pulsing to fuck her and stretch that delicious hole open. Maybe she would even let her fuck her other puckered hole. Even imagining his seed seeping out of her holes made him go insane, but he had to be patient, give to her slowly, get her addicted so she comes back for more.

He whispers sensually to her ear, voice dripping with lust “Feeling better, sunshine? Or my needy, spoiled baby needs more?” his fingers don’t stop tracing her pussy over her ruined panties, sure that her slick was drenching his pants too.

“C-can I have more, Leon? Please?” She begs him perfectly, his eyes roll back in his head, finally hearing her say his name in that desperate tone.

“Let’s take off these panties, baby. We don’t wanna ruin them, do we?” He helps her remove the fabric, and his mouth watered at the sight. He had never seen a woman, in his entire life, be so wet and puffy for him like she was. He knew that after today, he would spend his entire life buried deep in her womb. His fingers traced lightly her naked pussy, admiring, collecting her slick, completely hypnotized.

His fingers gently touch her entrance, gathering her juices and spreading all over her sensitive place. After getting it lubricated enough, he traced slow circles in her clit, and her body seems like it went through a shock, back arching and hands going to his hair. She moaned his name softly, making groans leave Leon's mouth in satisfaction.

“Open your dress a little bit, princess, let me make you feel even better. My baby deserves it” She proceeds to open the top of her dress, her boobs spilling out. His free hand moves two of his fingers to her mouth, muffling her moans, to not attract attention, and wet them so he can pleasure her beautiful tits. She sucks his fingers wantonly, as his fingers circle her bud faster.

After some time, his fingers leave her mouth so he can finally abuse her neglected nipples, the slick from her saliva still present on his fingers. She had to bite her lip hard, eyes tearing up from pleasure. The man is in cloud 9, seeing her succumb to him so easily.

“Is my princess feeling good, huh? Love seeing you like that, baby, you’ll come for me every day from now on, okay? I’ll give everything to you, make you only mine. Do you want that, angel?” His fingers start moving just right, and she is stepping each second closer to the edge.

She can only give him desperate nods, the knowledge he wants to do it everyday fuels her further with desire - she was already obsessed with him. It takes Leon to start pressing kisses to her throat, and she unravels on his fingers, coming with his name on her mouth. “Leon, I’m coming, o-oh god… f-fuck…”

“That’s it my angel, fuck, how delicious you look. Come for me, and I’ll give this to you forever, okay, sweetheart? My fucking baby, from now on” his fingers move slower, letting her ride the waves.

She sits on his lap panting, heart beating fast, rosy cheeks showing the great work out she’s been through. The man kisses every inch of skin he can reach, completely satiated from seeing her spent body because of him.

He lays her down on her bed, then grabs one of her pink towels to softly clean her wet delicious cunt, pressing a kiss on the skin at the top. He grabs one of the babydolls he gave to her and dresses her up, kissing her arms, legs and neck again, making the girl give him soft giggles.

Lastly, he presses kisses to her forehead, and whispers to her ear “go to sleep baby, have sweet dreams, my love”. And she obeys him, letting soft beard patches and calloused fingers guide her to her dreams.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

One month after the barbecue, Leon didn’t make any advances on the girl again, letting her reach the peak of her desperation. He had seen the looks she gave her, and even if it was hard to ignore sometimes, he had to lay low to not raise suspicions, and maybe tease her some more.

He entered the kitchen and saw her cooking the sides to help her dad with feeding the guests. As she stood cooking on the stove, he watched her silently, every inch of him burning with lust. He comes behind her, placing his hands gently on her hips, his lips moving against her skin. “I really missed you, pretty baby.”

She gasps, momentarily forgetting about the food, but not turning to him “Hm, not enough as you ignored me”

His hands start massaging her hips, giving her a reassuring smile. “Sorry, baby, but we have to lay low, you know that” His hands now caressing her cheeks “After you help your dad, we can slip away from the guests and I'll reward you for being my special girl, how does that feel?”.

Her eyes light up, and she nods excitedly. He chuckles at her eagerness, and presses a loving his to her forehead, letting her be.

Oh, how fun this night is about to be.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

They mingle with everyone at the barbecue, having some D.S.O agents and some of the neighbors from around.

As she was washing the dishes, Leon was behind her every second of it, taking advantage that the kitchen was secluded from the hangout spot and pressing kisses to her neck and praises to her skin: “such a good girl”, “so obedient”, “so perfect”. She couldn’t help but feel her hands trembling a little bit as she did the dishes, she was hoping he forgot about his little “show”, otherwise she would have to show him her ruined panties pressed on her cunt. God, she was blushing from shame.

As she finished washing, before she could say anything, his raspy voice whispered to her ear, hands now touching her hips again. “Gonna model f’me today, sweet baby?”

She gulps, nervous and excited: she couldn’t say no to him when his voice got like this. Ever since he touched her a month ago, she tried to chase that feeling again, every day having to hump her poor little pillow, to try to reach bliss again. Sadly, only he seemed to have the knowledge for that, causing her to go to bed with a wet needy pussy. “Okay…” her pretty voice was meek, playing coy with him.

The man smirked, as he had of an idea why she was shy. He gently grabbed her hands, giving her a reassuring smile, guiding her to his bedroom. As they got there, he sat on the edge of bed, legs spreading to accommodate her body between them. He starts passing his hands on her body, sighting heavily in pleasure, after denying himself of her body for days. “This dress is new baby, where did you get it, hm?”

She smiles at him, her redness still on her cheeks “I bought it when I went to the mall with my friends.” She twirls for him, the wind showing her pink panties hugging her bottom. He bites his lip, and gives her a smile “I like it, sweet thing. Looking like a princess, aren’t you?”

She giggles, and wraps her arms around him, her pretty face hiding in his neck again. She shines beneath his praises. “Thank you, Leon.”

He presses a chaste kiss on her cheek, his rough hands passing in her hair. She is his sweet little baby, he would take his sweet time with her sweet young body. “Lay down in bed, sweet baby. Need to check you entirely”.

She lays down for him, their bodies not at the edge of the bed anymore, fully laying down. He gently removes the straps on her shoulders, kissing every inch of her skin as the fabric passes by. She was breathing heavier now, he could sense how aroused she was. He pushes down the top of her dress until it reaches her waist. Her pink bra is shown to him, one that was one of his gifts for her. “Such a pretty bra, sweetheart. You always look so pretty in it.” He whispers as he traces the item.

He unclaps her bra, her perfect breasts at show to him. His mouth latches to one of them, while he pinches her other nipple. He rolls her buds with his tongue and fingers, the only sound in his room is her desperate and quiet moaning. “Oh god, Leon!”

He switches his fingers and mouth, giving both her delicious nipples the same treatment. When he is done, both are hard and sensitive, ready for more. He had to stop himself, or he would lose control way too quickly. He had to enjoy the night, after days of not listening to his needs.

Her doe, glazed eyes look at him, watching him as he watches her. His hands start to go lower, to the end of her dress. He raised up the clothing, and he groaned at what he saw: her matching panties ruined from her slick, her perfect lips pressing at the wet fabric. “Oh baby, did I do that?” She nods to him, her blush coming back. “Let’s take these out, hm?”.

After her consent, he removes her panties and dress too. Just like last time, her center was red, puffy and gushing. He sighs at the sight, and traces her lower lips gently, easing her into the sensations. Her quiet whimpers were heard, fuelling him to finally go a little further. Just using his thumb, he circles her clit, enough to make her feel good, but still not enough to make her cum. His mouth presses kisses to her neck, leaving love bites to her chest: his claim hidden, their lustful little secret.

Her mouth forms and forms an “O”, and her hips pick up the pace, following his thumb, drunk on so little. The agent smirks to her neck, thumb applying just a little bit more of pressure. She wails louder, her juices soaking his sheets too. “Oh, baby girl… I have been mean, neglecting you, haven’t I?” As she agrees, he gives her a hungry smile, and whispers “no more of that, okay?”.

He crouches between her legs, spreading them apart, and flattens his tongue, licking her cunt. Her body arches at the new feeling, it was something she never felt before. He oscillates his movements in pressing his tongue in her, and sucking her clit to his mouth. Her moans get louder when he enters one finger in her hole, fucking it nice and slowly, letting she get used to it. His mouth doesn’t stop, distracting her from the intrusion. As she got used to it, he added another finger, wanton moans leaving her.

She clutches his hair, it was too much, too much, making her orgasm closer. After days of not getting anything from him, his tongue and fingers pressing into that spot get her to her edge in no time, and she gushes in his face, Leon swallowing it all with low grunts.

He goes to her face, and they finally have their first kiss, marked by her taste and their hunger for each other. He gently wraps his arms around her, letting her shaking body come down, while still connecting their mouths together. He parts to press kisses to her cheeks, murmuring soft praises: “did so good, baby girl”, and “such a pretty girl, all for me”.

After she calms down in his arms, he kisses her again, gently this time. He whispers to her, afraid of breaking their bubble: “that felt good, sweet thing?”

She answers him with an eager nod. At that moment, she was putty in the man's hands, he could ask her anything and she would do it, so he took advantage of that. “Baby, wanna make me feel happier?” he already knew her answer to that, but still had to ask. As she consents again, he starts unbuckling his belt, then, opening the buttons on his pants, not taking it off, it would be her job, after all. He stands before her, letting her sit on the edge of the bed.

The girl looks at him with wide eyes, hopeful and eager to please him. She had an idea of what he was proposing, and she was a mix of nervousness and excitement. He only motions with his head, and she proceeds to take off his pants, his hard, throbbing cock springing free. Her mouth salivates looking at him, ready to please him in any way he asks.

He looks at her with a warm smile, then orders: “Take it baby, it’s yours. I’ll teach you how to do it”.

Not one moment later, she softly grabs his dick, tracing it and admiring it. He sighs, finally relieving himself from all this teasing he had to endure for a long time. He was gonna reap what he sowed. “Put the tip on your mouth, princess, it’s gonna feel even better for me”.

She obeys the older man, sucking his tip lightly. She was clumsy at first, not knowing how to move her tongue, but as she heard his grunts, she fixed her movements. Her soft hands jerked what she couldn’t fit in her mouth, she must’ve done something right, since his grunts turned into moans and huffs. “That’s right baby, suck me dry. Let me fill your mouth, angel.”

As she’s gotten braver, more started to fit in her mouth, hollowing her cheeks like he ordered. Her tongue traces the vein in his cock, and his moans began to get deliciously louder. Although still uncoordinated, her pace gets faster, and in minutes he rips her away. She was so into it she didn’t even notice how Leon looked: he was panting, sweat forming in his face, that was slightly red. “Got me so close baby, you were wonderful”.

She is happy at the praise, happier as he kisses her again - now their mouths had both the taste of them. Like a starved animal, the man gets on top of her, grabbing every inch of flesh he could come across. The kisses were desperate, but still filled with care for her. “Will you let me put it in, sweet baby? Will you let me make love to you?”

Her breath hitches, suddenly nervous. She knew that was coming, but an idea is different from the reality. He notices her nervousness, and slows everything down. He was eager, yes, but she was his baby, and he would take care of her whatever the circumstances were. “Hey, pretty girl, it’s ok if you don’t want to, I promise i won’t be mad-”

Her eyes widened “no, no, no! I really want it… I just don’t wanna disappoint you”. Even if she was naked, she felt exposed to him now. He smiled at her, pressing gentle kisses to her mouth “honey, you would never let me down. Everything we’ve done by now already feels like a dream to me, pretty things like yourself are never present in my life.”

Her body relaxes at the reassurance, and with a more confident smile, her arms wrap around his shoulders, letting him get on top. “Thank you, Leon. I’m ready”.

He hovers her smaller body, putting each of her legs on his hips. He could see her needy wet cunt gaping, desperate to have him. He grabs his member, and slowly pushes into her entrance, drawing heavy breaths from both of them. He slowly inserts more and more to her, checking her reactions, watching if it was too much.

On her end, she was going insane. Her previous orgasm, as well as his fingers helped her. There was a stretch, but it was such a pleasant one. They could feel him opening her tight gummy walls, the slow insertion being heartbreaking for both of them.

As he is fully inside her, he gives the pretty girl a break. “That’s it baby, it’s all in. Did such a great job, letting me get deep inside your pretty hole” he whispers caringly in her ears, waiting for her to adjust to his size.

“I’m okay now, Leon. Please move” her sweet voice begs for him, how could he ever deny her?

He starts moving slowly, letting soft whimpers leave her juicy lips. “Fuck, baby girl, you are swallowing me. I knew your cunt would be this needy, I knew it.” He kisses her passionately, his hips rocking slowly into hers.

Her gasps and moans fuelled him, picking his pace. His body lowers into hers, chest to chest, fucking her throughly, looking directly in her eyes. “My, baby you look so good like this, drunk on my cock. Gonna give it to you everyday, I promise.”

If anyone saw her face, they would tell that she was high, but she was walking on clouds. His big cock made her so full, she finally felt like something was right in her life. That’s where she should be: underneath him, taking what he wanted to give her. “Oh, Leon, please don’t stop…oh god”.

“Won’t stop, baby. I’mma keep fucking you deep, just like my pretty girl deserves.” his hips pick up the pace, now sitting on his toes, arching her hips, making him finally reach that little spot inside her. Her moans are hard to keep down, but she bites her pillow. “Found it, baby. Gonna keep hitting it, darling.”

She now resorted to grabbing hard the sheets, boobs bouncing with his movements, he drilled into her in a way that brought tears to her eyes, she was overwhelmed in pleasure.

His cock throbs inside her, he wished to keep going for a long time, but the vision was too much: her sweet pussy enveloping him, creaming his cock with her juices, while her breasts move on her chest at his force, all that by chanting his name over and over again. One of his hands reaches her swollen red bud, circling it as he fucks her, hoping to make her cum as fast as he will.

“Leon, oh god I’m cumming, oh god, oh god, oh god, please don’t stop!” Her desperate moans are muffled by her pillow once more, her beautiful legs shaking around his hips. He grunts in response to her “that’s it baby, get your cum around my cock, let me paint your pretty insides, fuck, you are only gonna walk around dripping with my cum”.

After a few moments of this, she clamps hard around on his cock, her walls throb, and she cums around him, leaving a nice white ring around his shaft, his title being let out on a final scream. Feeling that, it triggers his own orgasm, making her clamp down harder as she feels him coming inside her “fuck angel, fuck, you are my baby girl, mine, only mine”.

His hips move slowly, letting both come down from their highs. He lowers, torsos touching, giving her a final passionate kiss. He finally stops moving, but remains kissing her, caressing her hair. “Good job, sweet thing, my pretty girl. You make me so proud” he lays beside her, putting her head to rest on his upper chest.

She nuzzles his neck, basking in his affections. “Thank you, Leon. That felt so good”.

Leon realized that they didn't have much longer to keep away from the party without being weird, but he figured she deserved a calm relaxation.

Finally, he was hers and she was his.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #leon x reader #leon smut #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy death island

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mikavlcs · 11 months

Text

Not On My Mind

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Summary: You leave school for a trip, and Wednesday doesn’t miss you. Not even a little bit.

Warnings: soft/ooc!wednesday but she’s like...in denial about it, my writing

Word count: 2.8k

Notes: this is kinda messy, but cute. nothing else to add tbh. hope you guys enjoy<3

Masterlist

Wednesday Addams was not soft.

She simply wasn’t. She never had been, and she never would be, for as long as she drew breath. The word didn’t even exist in her vocabulary.

Because she, Wednesday Addams, was a singularity. Unlike any other lowly mortal, she was not born from a womb, but forged in the hottest, most ferocious flames of hell by Lucifer himself. She was pure menace and dread given a small, but formidable physical form.

A vile miscreant equipped with a smile that could make even the purest of angels scream in terror and a glare that could make the devil shed tears of despair. Judge, jury, and executioner—someone capable of horrors beyond even your worst nightmares.

(Well, not executioner since she was unfortunately not yet a murderer, but she would be someday. It was the only incomplete task on her bucket list.)

So, no, Wednesday Addams was not soft. Nor could she ever be capable of such abominable behavior.

And yet…here she was displaying signs of this weakness. Because of you.

You were going on a family vacation. An event which, to Wednesday, sounded like a particularly gruesome method of torture, but you were positively buzzing with excitement about the trip.

Either way, you were going away with your family for a week. An entire seven days without you constantly at her side, chattering in her ear between classes, and lounging around her room in the evenings.

This, in theory, should have been great news. Lucifer knew how much more writing she could get done without you dragging her out to Jericho after classes or trying to read over her shoulder despite her threats of bodily harm. But it wasn’t great news. In fact, the information brought forth an odd sort of discomfort. A dull ache in her chest she’d never experienced before.

It was disgusting, it was vile, and it would certainly stain her reputation if it ever got out.

She supposed her reputation had already been defiled by the fact that her roommate and self-appointed best friend was the human embodiment of a rainbow, but this? This was a new low.

Her shamefulness was all she could think about while she watched you pack from her place on your bed. Well, “pack” was a generous way to describe it. You were actually just frantically grabbing clothes and other various items from around your room and throwing them into your suitcase and duffel bag, much to the disapproval of the meticulously organized Addams.

You insisted that you had a system, a method to your madness. Wednesday disagreed but didn’t bother voicing it.

From the ground, your voice rose, sounding far too winded for someone doing so little exercise. “Can you hand me that box on the dresser, Wends?”

Wednesday exhaled sharply. She came here to see you off, not help you pack last minute. Still, she obeyed, not without sending you a scathing glare that you promptly ignored.

The box in question was easy to find, already open atop your dresser where you directed her. She took a passing glance inside to survey the contents within—a bunch of mismatched jewelry that sparked vague recognition but no interest.

Just as she was about to close it, something caught her eye. A ring, sitting in the corner of the box. It was a simple, visually unobtrusive black band with silver engravings wound throughout. She recognized it as one of your most frequently worn pieces of jewelry, but it had never captured her attention before now.

She was overcome with the sudden, overwhelming urge to take it. Wednesday very nearly stifled it, but she figured since you were subjecting her to these horrific feelings, she was entitled to a settlement of some kind.

Swiftly, she pocketed the ring and snapped the box shut, venturing back over to you, none the wiser as you messily stuffed clothing into your suitcase. She held the box out to you, eyes narrowing in condemnation at the messy state of your things below.

“Why are you taking the entire box?” Wednesday asked neutrally.

“Because these dorms are not the most secure,” you answered, taking the box from her hand with a smile and placing it on top of your clothes. “And I would hate for something to get stolen while I was gone.”

Wednesday’s lips twitched. “Yes, that would be unfortunate.”

Soon enough, you were finished packing and ready to go. Almost. For some reason, you were struggling to carry both your duffel bag and suitcase at the same time. It was quite humorous, watching you struggle, but she took pity on you knowing you were on a schedule.

“You’re weak,” she grumbled as she snatched the duffel bag from your hand, slung it over her shoulder, and stepped around you to open the door.

You followed closely behind, flashing her a grateful, slightly sheepish grin while closing the door behind you. “Thanks, Wends.”

She said nothing, just kept walking, finding amusement in the sound of you fumbling to catch up. When you found your footing, you took your usual place at her side, shoulders brushing while you easily fell into step with her.

The whole way down, you chattered on and on about what you were excited to do on the trip, but Wednesday wasn’t tuned in. Her attention was on the way her stomach fell further with every step closer to the waiting car outside and the pit she could feel forming for seemingly no reason at all.

She despised it, this ever-growing weakness you unwillingly made her develop.

Walking out, you found the car parked right by the curb outside, Principal Weems already leisurely resting against it while she waited for you to arrive.

The tall woman greeted the two of you with a smile, to which you offered a wave in return while Wednesday just stared. She came to collect your luggage and went to put it in the back of her car, leaving the two of you to say your goodbyes.

You turned to her, rocking back on your heels, clearly unsure of what to say. Wednesday, though she’d never admit it, was in a similar predicament, without the slightest clue of what to do now.

She didn’t know why, but she was tempted to pull you back into the school and drag her back to her dorm. The urge was utterly ridiculous, yet grew more powerful by the second, nagging at her as she watched your agonizingly slow internal debate.

“I guess I’ll see you in a week,” you finally said, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. “It’ll be over in a flash, and I’ll be back to talking your ear off before you know it.”

Wednesday gave you a firm nod in lieu of a verbal response. You sent a sideways glance to the principal’s car, clearly remembering you had a flight to catch.

“Bye, Wends,” you said, then added, “Please don’t kill anyone while I’m gone.”

“No promises,” she deadpanned, earning a laugh from you.

After another moment of indecision, you pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, feather-light and entirely too quick for her tastes. But she didn’t voice that embarrassing thought, just watched you walk off and enter the vehicle with her arms crossed.

As the car pulled off, you turned and waved to her out the back window, and she lifted her fingers from her forearm slightly in response. The smile you gave her got smaller and smaller with distance.

Wednesday stayed standing there until the car was out of sight, the unidentified pit in her stomach never abating.

—

The week that followed was…weird.

It was the same as any other week at Nevermore, yet entirely different.

She was indeed able to get much more writing done, but it wasn’t as triumphant as Wednesday imagined. The silence in her room was refreshing for all of twenty minutes before the tone of it shifted, and the quiet felt empty. It didn’t impede her workflow—if anything, it increased it—but it just felt wrong.

There were a number of notable happenings throughout the week as well.

Bianca suffered her 47th defeat at the hands of Wednesday during their weekly fencing practice (she was very excited to get to 50), Eugene somehow got six bees stuck in his hair and, in a show of true incompetence, Xavier managed to spill an entire can of paint on himself. Something he would never, ever live down as far as Wednesday was concerned.

In all of those instances, she found herself looking to her right to see if you were smiling or laughing. Until she was met with the empty space you would’ve occupied, and she remembered. You weren’t here. It made a certain hollowness settle in her chest, making her mood drop ever so slightly.

It was pathetic, honestly. It made her want to self-lobotomize herself to attempt to determine just how much damage you’d done, to see if it was reverible.

Still, she mentally cataloged the events to recount for you upon your arrival. Only so she wouldn’t have to deal with your whining about her not telling you anything once you inevitably heard it from Enid.

Throughout each day, your ring accompanied Wednesday everywhere she went. Slipping it on right before leaving her dorm and taking it off just before bed quickly became her new routine.

She had never fully understood the obsession that people had with rings as the only hand jewelry she ever enjoyed wearing was brass knuckles, but she was beginning to get it now. The light weight on her hand was somewhat soothing, especially in moments when your absence was particularly potent.

She hoped that no one would notice it. Most wouldn’t have even known it belonged to you, but your shared group of friends (acquaintances on Wednesday’s end) would likely recognize it since you wore it so frequently.

Knowing this, Wednesday did her best to take it off in group settings, slipping it into her blazer pocket to put back on after, but it was harder to remember during classes. This oversight ended up being her undoing.

It wound up taking three days for someone to notice the ring. And, of course, that someone was Enid.

They were in Botany, listening to Miss Thornhill drone on about some rare carnivorous plant. Enid was in the seat next to her to “fill in the void” you left behind in your absence with her peppy, prismatic presence.

Entirely unnecessary, but so were most things Enid did. Wednesday had long since learned not to question her anymore.

Wednesday, having already known everything there was to know about the plant, had finished taking her notes five minutes after class started, but Enid wasn’t even trying to take notes. She was instead doing seemingly everything in her power to irritate Wednesday. Incessantly doodling, clicking her pen, constantly fidgeting and shifting, drumming her fingers against the desk.

It was positively maddening. And not in a good way.

In an effort not to snap at her, Wednesday occupied herself with your ring. Tracing the engravings and twisting it around her finger. It was soothing. Enid, nosy as she was, glanced over at the movement and paused her pen clicking.

“Hey…” she started, and Wednesday immediately knew she would hate where this was going. Enid leaned over, making Wednesday lean back in turn. Her eyes narrowed then widened moments later with a soft gasp. “That ring, isn’t that—"

“None of your business? Absolutely,” she gritted out, sending her a scathing glare. “Now, perhaps you should actually pay attention. Maybe then you’ll have a chance of finally getting something higher than a 70 on the next test.”

Her roommate looked like she wanted to say more but eventually conceded with a disgustingly wide smile and a mumble that sounded awfully like that’s so cute of you, roomie.

Wednesday swore that if it were anybody else, she would’ve finally completed her bucket list that day.

—

After what seemed like an eternity and many more tests to Wednesday’s patience (almost exclusively from Enid), seven days passed and the time for you to return to Nevermore arrived.

It had actually been longer than seven days—170 hours and 17 minutes, to be exact—but who was counting? Certainly not Wednesday.

The principal’s car pulled in just as the sun began to set, and Wednesday was there, standing off to the side of the school’s entrance. Not because she was waiting for you, she simply had matters to attend to in the courtyard around that time.

You stepped out the car moments later and your eyes found hers instantly, expression brightening. Bags in hand, you ran over to her but stopped just short of her, excitement fading into uncertainty.

Wednesday stared at you, then, with an audible sigh, stepped forward. Your smile returned, increasing tenfold as you dropped your bags and wrapped your arms around her, careful not to squeeze her too hard. If you questioned the way she barely leaned into your embrace and turned her face just slightly into your neck, she would say it was entirely in your head.

“Did you miss me?” you asked once you pulled back, hands coming to rest on her shoulders.

“Not for a second,” she answered. “I was able to get twice as much writing done without your constant prattling and distractions.”

“Uh-huh.” The sly smile on your face told her that you definitely weren’t buying it, but you plowed on before she could confront you. “Y’know, you could have texted me if you had a phone,” you persuaded, fixing her with a look she’d become intimately familiar with since you’d started dating. “I could always get you one.”

Wednesday blinked, shot you a dubious look. “You’re broke.”

Your shoulders fell dramatically, but your tone remained light. “Damn, Wends, you didn’t have to say it like that.”

She didn’t dignify you with another response. Knowing you would need time to unpack before dinner, she slung one of your bags over your shoulder and took off in the direction of your dorm, leaving you to catch up.

It wasn’t long before you were by her side, matching her pace easily. And, of course, you had more to say.

“Do you wanna hear about my trip?”

“No,” she said. A beat. Then, “But you may tell me while you unpack. I know you like to run your mouth while completing tasks anyway. I have things to tell you as well.”

“Really? Thanks, Wends,” you grinned brightly. Wednesday shot you a glare, and if you noticed that it was softer than usual, you didn’t comment.

Unable to keep your mouth shut, you started ranting about the traffic you hit on the way back to the airport, or something related to that. Wednesday wasn’t quite listening. She was instead taking in the unfocused drawl of your voice in her ear, the strides perfectly matching hers, the light brush of your shoulder against hers—just appreciating the familiar presence at her side once more.

It had only been a week, yet it felt like a lifetime since she had last experienced this.

Without thinking, her hand drifted to fiddle with your ring, and your eyes caught the movement. You stopped suddenly, prompting Wednesday to come to a halt as well with a questioning look.

Gently, you grabbed her hand and brought it closer to your face to inspect the band around her finger.

“This is mine, isn’t it?” you asked, brows knitting together. “I’ve been wondering where it went, I swore I packed it...”

Wednesday snatched her hand away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about but grab my hand like that again and yours will be swiftly removed.”

“But—” you started to protest but stopped abruptly. She watched, curious, as your expression smoothed over into something even she couldn’t quite read. You nodded, smiled. “Yeah, I must be confused, sorry.”

Wednesday narrowed her eyes but accepted the apology with a nod.

The rest of the walk was spent in silence. It was odd. Wednesday stole a few glances to see if you were upset, but you seem to be. If anything, the opposite.

Still, the silence stretched on even when you both arrived at your destination, and you were pulling the door to your dorm open for her. She strode inside, trying to find a way to broach the subject without sounding too concerned.

But there was no need.

Just after the door closed, you put a hand on her shoulder and leaned over into her space. She gave you a startled glare but didn’t move away, ignoring the way her ears burned at the sight of your soft smile and the equally soft whisper that followed.

“I missed you too, Wednesday.”

—

everyone @ wednesday while reading this:

anyways happy pride to my fellow loser gays 🥳🏳️‍🌈

#wednesday 'i'm not like other girls' addams is canon btw #wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams imagine #jenna ortega #she's a loser<3

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