#reader is a witch

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Kissed by Moonlight (Alucard x Witch! Reader) 7

A/N: I feel like an ass for posting this one, surely I am cockblocking, but this slow-burning is here for a reason! Enjoy regardless! Mentions of anatomy and some language, Y/N gets drunk and nearly blurts all.

Summary: To be loved is to be changed.

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Chapter 7

In the day, Adrian was as glorious as the sun. At night, as beautiful and haunting as the moon and its glow.

In the month you had been in the castle, you had turned the once secluded castle into a living, existing place, for you and Adrian to simply ignore the rest of the world in. It had grown not to resemble a tattered and destroyed ruin, but instead, a place Adrian could call home once again.

Adrian himself had flourished in his skin once more: where you found him to take up hobbies when you were not with him. Before was once a man, lonely beyond an age before the age of twenty, losing his parents and closest allies, now, a man you could look upon with admiration and pride. He had grown out from his enclosed shell, opening his heart to a stranger, trusting you with his life unlike those who betrayed him.

It hurt more to know that this was your final day.

You feared for Adrian’s wellbeing, whether he would grow reclused after you left him, or would he rather thrive with your farewell?

You had grown recluse yourself from the Dhampir, finding closure in the fact that you would never look upon the face of Adrian ever again. Where could you go apart from as far out from Wallachia? Nowhere was safe for a girl like me. You told yourself when you wished you could explain to Adrian—though the words would always freeze on your tongue any time you tried bringing it up.

It seemed that Adrian had almost forgotten about the promise too, and you couldn’t help but feel guilt when he spoke of promises he wanted to do for you.

“I’ll show you one day the town nearby,” he said one night, curled up by the fire as he stared into its flames. “I know you’d like it. We could buy anything you’d like: spices, dresses, jewellery.”

He spoke of a future not just with him alone, but with you co-existing beside him, and it thrilled and destroyed you to know that this promise would crumple like sand.

The day came for you to leave, silently waking with dried tears still stinging your red eyes. You had spent all that night crying before you fell to sleep, dreaming of being with Adrian, laughter shared and memories to be made. You had even kissed him, your heart fluttering as he muttered words softly in your words that gave away he did not want you to go.

'Always and forever.' His words were soft and dying in the air when you faced the morning, and your lips could still feel his against yours, a dying dream never to be lived.

You tip-toed around to not wake Adrian, gathering anything you could and folding neatly the dresses you had been given to him. They were too lovely to be ruined and deserved to be in a place that could keep its beauty.

The only things you carried on you were the same dress you came to the castle in, rags that had been sitting in the corner of the room, waiting for the day you would have to wear them. The air grew heavy with a feeling of forlorn as you walked to find the kitchen, setting yourself by the counter and waiting for the person you dreaded to upset.

It was not long until you heard familiar footsteps drawing closer, familiar honey-blond locks coming into view as the man appeared. It snapped your heart in two to see the softness in his golden eyes as if you were better than the sun itself and you were his star. That all fell apart when his smile dropped, the uncertainty washing over his face when he saw the glumness on your face.

“Has something happened?” He did not waste two seconds stepping closer towards you, giving a small gap between the two but enough that you could be up close to him. In the four weeks, it had taken some time for Adrian to grow used to touch once again, always coiling away from your closeness, before he had taken the time to build trust and reciprocate first. "Y/N?"

He was quick to reach out to you first, extending for your arm as he pulled it towards him. He was warm to the touch, and you dared not want to look upon his concerned gaze without knowing you would blubber into a mess once again.

“You remember the promise, correct?” You lamented, watching for a moment as he took in your words carefully. It was as if everything poured through just from the question, and you could just about read every emotion visible in his eyes; melancholy, regret, grief.

“Where will you go?” His voice was quiet. Don’t go, it read in his eyes.

It didn’t dawn on you, no matter how many times you came to think of it. “Some place where it is warmer, perhaps east. But that means…” your voice cracked momentarily, “Wallachia will not be a home for me.”

“But how do you know?” His calmness cracked, and beneath you could see the grief-stricken man appear, though you did not think he would be holding concern for you of all people.

You didn’t want to answer his question, despite the unknowing questions that boiled, the silence was deafening, and it hammered in your chest like the chiming of a hammer.

“I will have to leave whilst there is still light,” you squeezed Adrian’s hand before it slipped from his, “Thank you for allowing me to use your library, and… to call you a dear friend.”

You didn’t know if that pained you more to call him a friend when your feelings had bloomed for him during your time there. A friend was the only thing you could call him: why would he want anything else with you? He’s immortal, he will have lovers come and go, but none will ever be you.

“Don’t,” he called to you when he stepped out of his reach, not expecting him to call you. Your name was a whisper on his tongue, hanging in the air as if he wished to say something more to you, “I don’t want you to leave.”

“I would be overstaying here, Adrian.” You could feel tears slip from your face, but you braved not to look at him, even when you knew he was staring at you. “You said a month-”

“Please,” there it was. Pain in his voice in the way he pleaded, desperate and gentle that you didn’t think you’d see this side of him, “I don’t think… living within these walls would ever feel the same with you gone.”

He stepped out to you again.

Closer.

His hand gingerly found your chin, raising your head to meet his gaze, delicately wiping the tear collecting at the corner of your right eye. You were both silent, only staring at one another, and never did you think anyone would stare at you the way he did with you.

“You wish for me to stay?” Forever?

Your mother had told you what that feeling would be like, though she had been young and never knew the experience herself. Did Alucard’s parents experience the same when they first met?

That feeling grew within your chest, butterflies you couldn’t stop from feeling: the great emotion that one day would bless you in having. Why was it that the moment you had to leave was when it came?

‘People come and go,’ your mother told you one day when you asked about it, naïve and full of hope. ‘It hurts when it grows for those you care for.’

Yes, you understand now why it came at this moment and all the times before.

It hurt.

Love hurt when it was about to leave for the first and final time.

It was his smile, so gentle and warm, so inviting and bright – full like the sun and the beginning of spring – that you could not decline his offer.

“I would very much like that.”

-

Telling yourself you had gotten used to the castle was an understatement.

The rooms you were more familiar with were the ones you kept to, never straying that much to explore. You knew that there were many rooms even Adrian never went into, telling you that they held too many memories, either good or bad.

You were understanding, knowing how much the castle – his childhood home – could hold a lot of disturbance to what he went through. He told you one day that his childhood bedroom was off limits: it was after all, where he had killed his father. He mentioned it was a place too “dampened with gloom” that you knew something else had happened for him to keep that part of the castle off-limits.

It had only gotten the best of you when you told Adrian you were going to do some cleaning, leaving him as he cooked in the kitchen.

You sprinted with much glee and inquisitiveness: the endless hallways could lead you anywhere!

Roaming the halls, you remembered to stay away from the rooms you were not allowed to go to, including his old and current bedroom. It was quite easy to get lost, taking to the upper floors, where the light grew dimmer, more eerie.

The rooms as you found them didn’t hold much for you to be intrigued until you passed what was another room in another endless hallway, you spotted that this room had its door ajar.

This was certainly a room you had not been told of by Adrian.

Bravely, the room seemed to be more of an intrigue to you than any other room. Slowly peeling the door back, you stepped through.

The room is dimly lit, with a sense of sweet orange that lingers in the air. It’s his scent, sweet, alluring, inviting; just like what surrounds you. There are books of all assortments: astronomy, philosophy, ecology, history – to name a few. Knowledge spanning from decades to thousands of years back, of all cultures and dynasties long gone and remaining. Maps hung around the room, some of the entirety of Europe, the world and one finally above his desk of Wallachia.

It took longer to find literature, where you find poetry, prose, children’s stories and old fables. You’re shocked when you stumble across some romance novels, not expecting that to come from Adrian.

His desk is a display of many things: papers, books, and journals. You dare not look in his journals knowing his work is private, but something catches your gaze. Since when was Adrian into drawing?

You find one first that makes you pick it up, a sketch of his mother, only a fine-line sketch that is only shaded and not with much detail, but you recognise her from the portraits that decorate the castle.

Will you be needing a muse anytime soon? You think to yourself, jokingly. You knew it was rude to snoop, and knowing you had come across Adrian’s study, you knew you had the best chance to look around when he wasn’t there.

But when you find his sketchbook, all nosiness takes over.

The leather-bound book is beautifully decorated, with its pages filled to the brim from use. The beginning of the pages were those you recognised simply by objects that Adrian used for inspiration: a stag beetle shell, many plotted plants and flowers some you recognised from your mother’s herbs. You read the dates that dated back to almost a decade ago, impressed by his skill at such a young age.

The more you draw the pages further into the book, the older the dates get, and his practice grows. His inspirations change from objects to anatomy. You’re impressed by the way Adrian draws the human body so well. Some sketches of hands in different positions and poses, full body sketches of a mixture of men and women, some clothed and others nude.

You could feel your cheeks darken, and though it was surprising to see the natural state of the human body, art was still captivating in showing it, Adrian drew with a way of conveying vulnerability. His mother was a doctor after all.

Other pages were of human faces: more drawings of his mother and father. Another was of a different man and woman: the woman had short hair whilst the man had a scar over his right eye and a shadow of a wispy beard on his face. You now had a reference to Adrian’s friends and allies: Sypha and Trevor.

A Belmont, scholar and sleeping soldier, Adrian told you, all out for different clauses and paths but joined to meet on one path; to kill Dracula.

You had forgotten to make sure you were still alone and not spotted looking through his things when you reached the last few of the pages, recently used. Wait a minute. You had to do a double take, imagining you were seeing double. This isn’t… who I think it is.

Those eyes, were similar to you, not that you could remember where you had seen them last. It dawned on you quickly why they were a distant memory: they looked like your mother's eyes—but that was impossible if Adrian had never met or seen an image of her.

But, as if looking back through a mirror, a glimpse through time, those eyes weren’t just hers, but yours as well.

Oh. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you dared not drop the book to draw attention to where you were. You didn’t close it, despite feeling that this was intruding—it was too late for that now.

He had gotten your likeness in a way you didn’t think he could: as if you had been captured in a moment, ready to come back to life on the page. Another sketch of you, reclined with your nose in a book and laying in a way that could’ve been uncomfortable to anyone else. Another of you tying your hair back, the ribbon dangling in your mouth, eyes in heavy concentration. The final one took you by surprise: a moment where you were snuggled into the armchair, a blanket wrapped protectively around you to keep you warm.

Have I been so blinded this entire time? It seemed like this wasn’t right: did Alucard… fancy you? You scoffed, absolutely not, there was no way—though you the more you spiralled, the more it had you questioning everything.

You had been so preoccupied with what you had discovered, that you failed to suspect the presence behind you, someone standing just on the edge of the doorframe.

An awkward cough brought you back to your senses.

“Forgive me!” You stumbled, throwing the papers behind you to hide them behind your back, in hopes you were quick on your feet. You were clumsy, ineptly whipping back to look at the blond Dhampir standing just a few metres in the doorframe. “I did not hear you come in.”

Adrian was dressed simply in his shirt, trousers and boots as he did if the weather was not too cold. It was only a small subtle detail that his dark trousers were coated and dusted with a light cast of flour, as if he had nothing else to wipe but on them. His hair was also tied up, revealing his slender neck, wisps of blond tresses falling to frame his handsome angular features.

How long had he been waiting there for? You panicked, knowing that he could’ve used his speed to reach you, using his inhuman scent of smell or to pick up your heart rate to find you.

“Yes, well, you did seem rather… occupied.” Adrian teased, though his face was incomprehensible, his movements leisurely as he ambled into the room, inspecting if anything looked out of place.

Was he just as embarrassed as how you were feeling? Regardless if he was or not, he was very good at hiding it from you.

He stopped just to the side of his desk, eyes quickly scanning as he spotted the disarray of papers, his sketchbook ‘neatly’ placed back where it looked to have been before. He did not say anything about it, instead, resuming conversation as if nothing was out of place.

“I was asking if you were free to help me downstairs. I needed assistance in deciding which spices to add to the cakes.” He continued, watching the way you shuffled to block what you were putting back on the desk.

You were not subtle in the slightest but Adrian did not make any remark for you to be snooping, rather, he watched on in visible amusement. The refined look when he raised an eyebrow, the small smirk that made you even more flustered when you were caught.

“Okay, ready.” You gestured for him to walk in front, hanging back as you took a final glance back, wondering when Adrian started drawing you.

-

 It’s his idea when he decides the two of you should share a bottle of wine.

Though you think it’s not good to have the entire bottle, Adrian agrees upon a glass or two, sharing thoughts as the night grows dark with the creatures of the forest outside, and your worries melt for a moment on your tongue.

The wine is sweet, not though you like it, and it's hard to consume something that feels so foreign. Adrian drinks it as if it's water, and you struggle to keep up. You’re a lightweight after all, and though you’re slower, you can feel the haziness that crawls in your vision, and you swear you’re almost seeing double.

Your laughter is warmer, chatter easier, and you notice he’s closer beside you by the table when he first brings the bottle and glasses.

“This is nice,” his voice does not slur as he speaks, and you’re shocked just by how content he is in drinking glass after glass if he could. If perhaps you didn’t say anything, perhaps he would, “It’s been some time since I stopped drinking.”

“When did you stop?” You can feel a headache begin to dull your senses, and you’re feeling bolder.

Adrian seems hesitant when he looks back at you before he answers. “I stopped after a couple of days after your arrival.” He’s nervously swirling the glass in small circles on the table, a distraction. “I’m sure the smell of piss and blood wasn’t helping.”

You chortle, “No, it didn’t, but I don’t suppose I was any different. A girl smelling of chickens.”

“I did wonder why.” He says in a dry tone, but his eyes are sincere, and you find yourself staring periodically down at his lips, the glint of his sharp teeth some distraction from the wine.

“It seems funny when I say it now, but I used to have two, and they had names.”

Adrian seems surprised by this, that of all things to have named were chickens, but he coaxes you with a raised brow, intrigued, to say the least. “Tell me they had normal names.”

“Henrietta and Duchess.”

“Oh, my God,” Adrian laughs quietly, “Next you’ll say you had a pig called Duke and a horse called Lieutenant.”

“Well, the pig was called Truffle.”

“Seems almost cruel,” Adrian laughs at the idea, “I don’t think I was any different. I did have a stuffed wolf called Fluffy.”

“Hey, that’s cute though.”

You laugh at the idea, but you’re carrying a sad smile as you continue to sip slowly at your drink. “I loved those chickens. It was weird, but I treated them like humans rather than animals—livestock. They were much nicer than-” You stop yourself mid-sentence, unsure if you’re ready to continue.

Your stomach coils as if ready to lurch, for you to leap from your chair and leave to your room, but Adrian is calm and patient, running a soothing hand over yours to console you.

“Take your time,” he says with quiet empathy, and it’s enough to pull you back to reality. “I’m here.”

“After my mama’s death, I fled to the nearby town—I was on the streets for some time, hiding behind buildings and sometimes getting shelter from a sweet old lady, before I was old enough to sell myself as a servant to any passing man who needed my service.”

You felt sick to your stomach, and the wine was not helping. “I stayed in his service for almost a decade, serving his son and wife who was no older than me.” You confessed. “It all boiled down one day when I was fed up with the fucking treatment. I was beaten if I did something incorrect, slapped if I spoke when not spoken to, and something… snapped in me. I… hurt him when he hurt me.” You pushed the wine away from you, eyes welling with tears. “I wish I did more.”

“You survived,” Adrian said with a sad grimace, “You’re much braver than most I know.”

“I didn’t feel brave then,” you admitted. “I felt like a stupid little girl, not capable of anything.”

“Hey,” Adrian seems clumsy in giving close comfort, but he tried nonetheless, leaning closer to finally embrace you. He smelt of oranges and lavender, and you nearly broke down into his shoulder, “you’re the strongest person I know. The bravest witch.”

He seemed tongue-tied with his next words, eyes moving across your face as if he wished to say something that you yearned to hear. “I’m proud of you.” He finally said, but in your mind, it didn’t seem like it was what he wanted to say as if there was something he was holding back.

Was I overthinking? You thought as you pulled away from his embrace, so tempted to lean across the table and kiss him there and then, but you pulled enough restraint to not horrify the man. “Thank you, Adrian. I’m thankful I have you.” You finally said.

“I’m thankful too.” He confesses, quickly realising what he’s just said and the blush on his face is obvious as he tries to change the subject. “I will leave you to catch some sleep. I thought it would be a good idea to head into town tomorrow morning. Gather some more supplies. What do you say?”

You smile sadly, “That’s a good idea.” You’re on your feet fast enough as you say goodnight to one another before you’re speeding down the hallway to your room, wiping the tears that have not dried from your face.

When you reach your room, you slink against the inside of the door. Your head is hammering, vision is hazy. Damn for drinking so much. You groan, only listening to the crackling of the fire lit in your room, the soft luring sound of crisp pages of a book being shut as a lovely interference.

“Ah, there you are.” the voice that pulled you from your thoughts was the one thing you needed to hear, sweet as honey as the figure emerged to stand close by from where you stood. His soft locks are pulled back from his face, and he’s practically glowing in the soft ambers of your room, the fire gently burning to keep the warmth.

Your lips are pulled into a tired smile, which the Dhampir notices quickly enough to soothe you for a night of sleep. “You’re exhausted, my little witch.” He’s yanking you by your hand, directing you to your bed. “You need sleep before it comes for you first.”

“Was it so obvious?” You laugh dryly, and the lack of sleep is fast indeed; your eyes are heavy, limbs sluggish as your mind slows from the alcohol. “I can get myself to bed by myself, you know?”

“I don’t doubt you,” he scolds lightly, the way he moves you is more persistent. “Dreams help everything go away, isn’t that what your mother said?”

“Yes.” You drawl quietly, silent in watching Adrian move around you, sitting you delicately on the edge of the side of the bed. He is gentle in getting you settled for the night, removing your outer layers of clothing until you’re left in your chemise. There is nothing overtly sexual in the way he undresses you, more so there’s such a tenderness to his touches that it almost leaves you weeping.

When you’re ready, he follows, undressing until he stands in his nightgown. You watch as he goes to as he crawls onto the other side to lay there. Shutting his eyes, his light blond hair cascades around the pillow like a halo, his body silent and still as stone.

You’re staring for some time before he speaks up, aware even without having to open your eyes. “Are you going to watch me sleep or are you going to join me?” He cracks one eye open, full of mirth as he catches the exact moment your face brightens.

“Right.” You scootch over closer, lying stiffly beside him on your back, not daring to get any cosier before he stretches like a cat, catching you by surprise as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in close.

“You’re shaking like a leaf, little witch.” He jokes, humming as he rests his head into the crook of your neck. This is all so real, and you dare fear if you fall asleep, it’ll all be gone, a fading memory to die in the back of your mind. “Am I that cold?”

“No,” you finally relax in his hold, having turned to face him, a feeling you wish not to ever forget. “It feels nice.”

“I’m sure one thing could make you feel better,” his eyes are open, watching you almost hawkishly, scooting himself closer. “Though, I’d have to know what you think.”

“What is it?”

He doesn’t answer you directly, but his eyes tell you what you’ve been waiting for. It’s the way his gold eyes glance from your eyes down to your lips, way too slowly before coming back up to meet your flustered state.

Neither of you make the first move, your heart is hammering too fast that you can barely keep up with your racing thoughts. You know he can hear how fast it's pumping, thunderous and dreadful against your ribs. It feels like it could explode any second.

Should I wait for him to lean in? Or would it be better for me to meet him halfway? To see how he reacts.

With your mind racing, your body moves on its own, ignoring your many questions and moving with little patience. A hand finds his cheek, stroking his cheekbone in contemplation, soft to the touch that you gasp from just the exhilaration alone.

You’re not waiting for him when you’re leaning close to him, closer and closer until his face is inches from yours. Your noses bump as you catch the final moment where his eyes flutter shut as you’re copying, stretching over until your lips meet his.

You didn’t know how long you had been counting for this moment to happen. Drinking him in, he is the sun, and you are a secluded plant, waiting for his rays to keep you from shrivelling. His lips are soft, neither warm nor cool as your contact is chaste and quick, and all that is gone when you’re not chasing for more-

“No,” you rasp as you pull yourself from him, leaping up to sit on the edge of the bed. “This is wrong.”

“Oh?” He doesn’t seem dissatisfied or enraged, rather it seems more like a question. He is calm when he asks, voice a soft rumble. “Is it wrong because you wish to continue? Or because you wish to experience this with him?”

You slump in your spot, guilt overflowing your body like a wave, ready to drown. “It’s wrong because… I’m using him.” You hug yourself, ready to weep aloud from it all. “I’m using him for this twisted fantasy, just to feel happy.”

This fake version of Adrian is collected, reaching your side of the bed as he places a consoling hand on your shoulder. “Happy… that you want to imagine a future with him?”

“Yes. Is that so wrong to have?” You sigh exasperated. “I want him to be happy, but I fear… I will never give him that happiness.”

“He’s been through so much already.” You continue. “I think of him all the time: like how the sun can’t live without the moon.”

You’re completely consumed by Adrian: mind, body and soul and it aches that this crush will continue to remain as one. His acts of kindness have completely floored you, confusing you to the point that you were left over questioning every small act he did for you.

The night is long and you’re left distraught, conjuring a version of him that you hope can give you comfort. “What do I do?”

“Tell  him the truth.”

Your head snaps almost drastically to glare at the fake version, who simply looks just as perplexed as you. “I’m just a manifested form you created of him in your head whilst inebriated. I’m the wrong person you should be talking to.”

Sighing defeatedly, you look to him for security. “I’m… confused.”

“How so?”

“Well, I know he sees me as a friend, but he’s just so thoughtful. He carries me back to bed, and we spend all day together. I mean, he drew sketches of me for fuck’s sake—that’s saying something, isn’t it?”

“He seems lonely too.” ‘Adrian’ answers, but it’s a reasonable answer that could be what you’re looking for, regardless of how you’re feeling.

“I know, I know. He’s awkward, but it can’t just be out of friendship.”

“Tell him in the morning,” he says, “you can’t see for yourself if he’s quick to reciprocate your feelings for him. Perhaps then you’ll be able to cuddle something that’s flesh and bone.”

You chortle at his words, knowing how uncanny and realistic he is sitting beside you. “Can we just- can we just cuddle for the rest of the night? Just so I don’t feel so lonely.”

Alucard gives you a sorrowful smile, pulling you into a side embrace. “You realise I won’t be there by morning?”

It’s a sad realisation, but you come to accept it. “I know. I just… want to imagine feeling something for once.”

“Of course, my little witch,” he kisses your forehead lovingly, leading you both back down to lie on the bed. The bed doesn’t feel as big when you share it with another, now in the fond embrace of the Dhampir you conjured in your mind.

“Sleep well, Y/N.” He tells you all the right things you want to hear, the lull of sleep pulls you in deeper and deeper, his voice growing quieter. “I’m still here with you, no matter what.”

“I love you,” you slur as darkness consumes you, the heaviness of your body pulling you into a sleep you need. You don’t feel upset when you don’t hear a response, just the arms of his embrace.

By the time early morning comes, the other side of the bed is cold, and the ghost of Adrian’s arms remains.

It’s not just knowing that the person on the other side of the hallway would never know how you felt, but the sense that you could never go back to seeing him just as a dear friend.

-

A/N:

This was a long one to write, but I hope you enjoyed it!

[jokeringcutio]

Ernst Toller x Reader (Witch)- Sweet Halloween (Contains smut)

AN: Follow me for more Halloween Reader Inserts. More stories will follow this month.

Fandom: First Reformed Pairing: Ernst Toller x Witch!Reader Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Mention of inner conflict, Pastor x Witch, Explicit Sexual Content, Slight Bondage: Ernst is tied down, Reader on top. The prompt:

Tags: @ethanhawkelover01 Witch’s Night

The dimly lit living room felt suffocating as Ernst Toller sat alone on Halloween evening. The candy bowl rested on his lap, a weighty reminder of the children who would come knocking. It felt wrong to open it, but how could he keep his door closed for the children he wanted to bring into his church? He needed to be seen as someone charitable, as someone kind, and trustworthy. Perhaps then he could save the dwindling numbers of people actually attending his services.

The doorbell rang, jolting him out of his miserable thoughts. How to solve the issue of the dwindling numbers of his flock? How to return his faith in God? He put on a cheerful face as he opened the door, handing out candy to the children dressed in their costumes. But as soon as the door closed, his smile faded. Memories of his own son and his failures weighed heavy on him, leaving him feeling hollow inside.

He wished that he could feel worthy. That, for once, he would feel the Lord’s light shine upon him.

The doorbell rang again, and Ernst hesitated. Should he open the door? He reminded himself that Halloween was just a heathen celebration. He thought about Samhain, the ancient pagan festival from which Halloween originated, and how far removed it was from his own beliefs. It only made him feel worse.

His hand hesitated, but ultimately, he decided to let the false smile grace his lips once more. Opening the door, he found another group of costumed children.

“Hi there,” he said, a smile on his lips. “Why, aren’t you looking wonderful.” He handed out candy and complimented the children on their costumes, kneeling down to their height so he could fill their buckets and bags with candy. As he slowly rose again, he watched them leave. And then, behind the departing kids, you appeared.

How long you stood there, he could not say. Only that when he caught sight of you, it took his breath away.

Ernst's eyes trailed down your shape as he took in your appearance. You were undeniably gorgeous. But there was something unsettling about your appearance.

You were dressed as a witch.

Halloween, he had to remind himself. Even adults dress up for Halloween nowadays. It meant nothing, he told himself.  Yet, your eyes drew him in, and he couldn't tear his gaze away from you. For a moment, he thought you were the real deal: a sinful creature sent to tempt him.

He knew he should shut the door, but decency begged him not to. He had a reputation to maintain, even if the numbers of his church had been dwindling, even if you probably didn’t know who he was and what he did for a living.

"Excuse me," you said softly, "can I quickly use your bathroom?"

So that was why you had lingered behind, he thought. Of course, the thoughts in his mind had just been silly notions. Just because you were pretty didn’t mean you were here to tempt him.

Ernst hesitated, wary of inviting a stranger into his home—especially one dressed as a witch—but ultimately, he nodded and stepped aside, allowing you inside. "Sure," he said, trying to lighten the mood with a weak joke, "just don't cast any spells in there."

It was clear, though, that he was actually feeling tense. You caught the underlying tone and saw his clothes and the little Christian relics that adorned his walls and lay exposed upon his table.

As you walked past him, the scent of your perfume filled the air, intoxicating and dangerous. Ernst couldn't help but inhale deeply, his body betraying him as he felt a stirring deep within. Impossible. His cock started to stir deep in the confines of his pants, and he gritted his teeth as he tried to deny what he felt. You were like a forbidden temptation, impossible to resist. Why had he allowed you into his house?

Running a hand through his hair, Ernst watched as you disappeared into the bathroom. His heart raced and his mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He was a pastor, a man of God. How could he find himself so drawn to a woman dressed as a witch, a symbol of heathenism and sin?

"God forgive me," he whispered, feeling the weight of his desires pressing down on him. You were beautiful, yes, but also much younger than him. He should not even think about it, should not want to crave touching you that way. But fuck, his cock hardened at the thought of having you in his hands. Of having a young thing like you moan and writhe on his cock. His own thoughts shamed him. The age gap only compounded his guilt, and yet it did little to quell the sinful thoughts beginning to invade his mind.

He tried to focus on anything else— the sound of the doorbell ringing in the distance, the wind rustling through the trees outside—but all he could think about was the way your eyes had locked onto his, the sultry curve of your lips, the seductive sway of your hips as you walked past him. And despite his best efforts, the image of your body pressed against his own relentlessly invaded his thoughts.

"Get a hold of yourself," he muttered, clenching his fists at his sides.

The doorbell rang and, swifter than before, he made his way to the door. This time, his smile was real. Handing out candy to the kids was a small reprieve from his unsolicited desires. But that distraction ended way too soon, and before he knew it, Ernst rested his head against the closed door, wishing silently that the bell would ring again.

There was a rustling sound behind him and he slowly turned to see how you emerged from the bathroom, your face flushed and your eyes sparkling with an intensity that made his knees weak.

"Thank you," you said, your voice soft and sultry, sending shivers down his spine.

Ernst tried to maintain his composure, to keep some semblance of coldness in his response. "You're welcome." But his voice cracked, betraying his inner turmoil.

He took a step aside, hand on the doorknob, a clear signal that he wanted you to go. But instead of leaving, you stepped closer to him, your gaze never leaving his. Your proximity was intoxicating, and he could feel the heat radiating off your body as you leaned in, your breath warm on his cheek.

"You seem... troubled," you murmured, your hand reaching up to brush against his arm.

The touch sent jolts of electricity coursing through him, and Ernst realized that he couldn't resist you any longer. His eyes widened as he took you in once more. He wished he could have denied it, but the witch’s outfit only added to the sinful desire he felt. As if the devil’s temptation beckoned him and he, once again failing, could not resist. The temptation was too great; the allure of your sinful beauty had ensnared him, breaking down his resolve.

"Damn you," he whispered, as you took his hand and guided him back into his chair, your fingers tracing lines of fire along his skin.

"Is that what you want?" you teased, a wicked gleam in your eyes.

And as you pressed yourself against him, offering your forbidden touch, Ernst couldn't help but surrender to the darkness threatening to consume him. A dangerous and haunting desire had taken hold, and he would no longer deny it. He wanted you, craved your touch. He’d be damned if he were to let you go now that you were offering yourself to him so willingly.

As your lips met, a rush of urgency surged through both of you. His hands were upon your back, guiding you close, not allowing you to move away. Not that you would want to. You enjoyed the sweet taste of his lips.

Your kisses deepened, tongues dancing together in a battle for dominance that you quickly won. With a skillful hand, you produced a length of rope from your witch's garb and began to tie Ernst's wrists to the arms of the chair. You could see the darkened eyes as he looked up at you, the question visible in them. But he did not ask why you did it. He merely offered a small smirk and allowed you to continue tying him down until he was completely at your mercy.

"Trust me," you whispered into his ear, your breath hot and heavy as you secured the knots. His heart pounded against his chest. Oh, he trusted you all right. You felt the hot and firm bulge poking your thigh as you squirmed upon his lap. His lips parted in a gasp and his cock throbbed beneath his pants. He couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through him at being so vulnerable to you.

Your hands roamed over his body, teasing and tantalizing, eliciting gasps and shudders from the man beneath you. He was exceptionally attractive when he moaned, and you slowly unbuttoned his blouse, revealing the toned flesh beneath, marred with the marks of his self-inflicted penance. Each button undone was like the peeling away of layers of his faith, leaving him exposed and raw.

"Such devotion," you murmured, your fingers trailing down his chest before dipping lower, unzipping his pants with deliberate slowness. His cock strained against the fabric, eager to be free, dripping the first droplets of seed and wasting it on the fabric of his waistband. When your hand finally wrapped around it, cupping his balls, he couldn't help but moan.

"Ah... yes," he breathed, his eyes clouded with lust. You straddled him, skirts bunched up high as you positioned yourself above his throbbing member, the heat of your core already causing him to shiver with anticipation.

"Ready?" you asked, a wicked smile playing across your lips. He could only nod, lost in the spell you'd cast upon him. And then, with a slow, deliberate motion, you lowered yourself onto him, enveloping him in your tight, wet heat. He slid in with ease, your juices lubricating his hardened, pulsing shaft.

"God..." he groaned, the pleasure nearly overwhelming him. The chair creaked beneath you both as you began to move, rocking your hips back and forth, grinding against him. He strained against the ropes, desperate for more of your touch, more intimacy, but you held him firmly in place.

Your hips moved expertly, creating a salacious motion that had your cunt milking his cock with each move. He groaned, teeth clenched, while his hands formed into fists. He wished he could grab you, hold you. It felt so good. So terribly good. How could this not be compared to heaven?

He desperately wanted to hold you and guide your hips with his hands. But he couldn’t. And didn’t that helplessness, that powerlessness, make it all the more delicious?

You could tell he was enjoying the power that you held over him and decided to tease him some more. Bringing your arms around him in a light embrace, you made sure to roll your hips smoothly, taking him in even deeper, hitting that delicious spot deep inside of you that made you moan and writhe on his lap.

It worked. Ernst threw his head back, eyes closed.

Then, an unpleasant mutter tumbled from his lips. “I see you now, God.”

Your hips moved against his frantically, breasts brushing against his chest while you moved a hand to grasp his cheek. He easily complied when you guided his head to look at you and opened his eyes again. The silent demand was clear. His lust-blown pupils met yours.

"Remember," you panted between thrusts, "it isn't God bringing you closer…It is me.”

Your words stoked the fire within him, and he watched as your eyes rolled back in ecstasy, your body convulsing with an orgasm that rocked you to your core.

"Please..." he begged, his own climax building, threatening to overtake him. Your walls were deliciously clamping down on his cock, begging him for his cum. His balls tightened, ready to blow his load deep inside. But just as he was about to come, you lifted yourself off of his lap, and his sperm shot forth, streaking across the skirt of your witch's dress. The sight was sinful and mesmerizing all at once.

"You've been a naughty pastor," you teased, leaning over him to untie the ropes. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Your eyes darted down to see his pulsing cock. His shaft glistened with juices. Your juices. You licked your lips at the sight and watched till the last ropes of cum, till his sack had emptied and his twitching member was slowly becoming limp.

With a gentle hand, you untied the ropes that had held him bound. Then you quickly righted your skirt, tucking yourself back into decency while Ernst did the same. The air between you was thick with lingering desire and unspoken questions.

"Wh-what have I done?" Ernst's voice trembled as he buttoned his shirt, avoiding your gaze. "As a pastor, I shouldn't have...I've lost my way. I don’t even know who you are."

You tilted your head, watching him grapple with his thoughts. For a moment it felt like you lived in some sort of twisted fairy tale, where the Prince danced with Cinderella and realized that he never even asked her name. Was Ernst willing to know more about you? It felt that way.

His hands shook as he adjusted his collar, trying to regain composure. "Ernst," you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. He flinched but didn't pull away.

"Your faith isn't gone, just...misguided." Your words hung in the air, heavy with truth.

"Maybe," he whispered, glancing up at you. His eyes were filled with longing and confusion. The doorbell rang, but at that moment, he leaned closer, his chapped lips parting, seeking solace in another kiss.

Your hand blocked his movement, his lips brushing gently past your fingertips instead. A look of confusion was upon his face when he looked up to see you smile. You stepped away from him, uncaring about the traces of cum visibly smeared upon your skirt. And then you opened the door for the eager trick-or-treaters outside. Their laughter and excitement were a stark contrast to the charged atmosphere behind you.

Ernst followed you to the door, his mind racing. Was this encounter a test? A punishment for his sins? Or perhaps a chance for redemption?

But then he saw your bright smile as you handed candy to the kids and felt a warmth blossom inside his chest. No, he thought determinedly. What he had done had been right. You had been right for him. The right medicine. The woman he’d been waiting for. A blessing turned into flesh.

“We’re running out,” he heard you say, and with a quick nod, turned around to fetch a new bag of sweets that he had lying on the table in the kitchen. He grabbed it, thinking hard about what he wanted to do next. His somber evening had lit up entirely. He could still feel the rope as it seared into his skin, not like fire but like the touch of a lover. To think of how he had enjoyed being at your mercy. He desperately hoped you would do it again to him. With the bag in his hands and a smile on his face, he returned to the door to find the candy bowl empty. Just like the doorstep. His smile fell.

Looking around, calling out for you, he had to conclude that you were gone. Like a phantom, leaving only the residue of your touch on his skin and the echo of your voice in his ears. His eyes traced the street filled with kids trick-and-treating, their laughter echoing through the night. A gentle twitch of his softening cock reminded him that you had definitely not been a dream. The feel of his empty balls and the slight buzz of the afterglow only confirmed that you had truly been there, not too long ago.

"Please," he whispered into the void left by your absence, "come back to me."

He hoped you would hear his plea. And perhaps, somewhere in the darkness of the night, a young witch sat on the porch of a house and heard that silent plea. And it made her smile, just like him, eager for more.

~ Fin ~

AN: Liked my work? :) ♡ Support me on Ko-Fi ♡ Love you all

[thegreatestsandwich]

Every night I'm dreaming I could hold you (Namor x Soulmate!witch!reader)

Masterlist

Pairing: Namor x soulmate!witch!reader

Word count: 690 words

Summary: You finally met.

Warning: You are awesome and can’t shut up

A/N: Here we go!!!

Coments, Reblogs and Asks are happily received! I love to read your lovely coments :)

You hated the beach with so much passion, being under the sun, surrounded by loud families being annoying, the smell of salt in the air, the weird feeling of sand on your feet, you just couldn’t help to hate it.

You were sitting under an umbrella completely dressed up, a pair of jeans, boots and a tank top, people were giving you weird looks and you just responded with a sarcastic smile and the middle finger. One mother even went full crazy mode and demanded you to leave because you were making her kids uncomfortable.

You just laughed on her face before putting on your sunglasses, but that didn’t end up there, the moment the lady left you alone, you made all the birds go to where she and her family were and let’s just say it was a magnific poop party.

As soon as sun started to set and everybody began going home, you got comfortable on your spot, watching your watch moving slowly. Last night you had a dream, you were finally meeting the man of your dreams (literally), after his horrible attempt of healing himself, you made a huge bag with the necessities you would need to help him correct his mistakes and scars. You sighed, terribly tired from today. Just another 3 hours more. Jesus Christ.

You couldn’t help to fall asleep, today was a tiring day, the first thing you did when you open up your eyes was to look at your watch, you smirked, four minutes and fifty-two seconds until you both met. So you waited.

He got off the waters, his tan skin beautifully wet, his eyes dark just like you saw them before, pointy ears, fun and tiny little wings on one of his feet? What?

You quickly stood up and walked to him. You didn’t have a plan. “Hey!”

The men stood still, watching you with hard eyes. His hand gripped his spear harshly.

“So,” You put your hands on your pockets. “Coming here often? Let me tell you, I don’t know how you do it but living closer to a beach? Awful. Name’s (Y/N).” You offered your hand but he stared at you like you were mad. I mean you are. “Right, not so talkative, are we? Well, meh.” You shrugged. “Well don’t worry, my therapist says I speak for everyone, like literally I never shut up.”

“Leave.” He demanded before turning away and walking to the waters.

“Rude.” You told yourself, running to catching up with him. “So, you’re from the water, right? That’s cool, I’m from Salem, you know, the land of the witches and spells.”

He ignored you.

“So, we should like talk about us, you know?” That made him stop, he looked at you like you were crazy. You shrugged. “I mean, destiny put us together, y’know? Like look at this.” You raised your left hand and a red string quickly appeared on one of your fingers, another appeared on one of his fingers. “We should talk about it…so, where do you live? You live under the water like nemo? That’s cool, don’t worry you go ahead, I’ll catch up with you, babe.” You patted his back before going to where you were sitting.

He stared at you without knowing what to say.

______

“So this is were you live, pretty cool, I like the rock collection, really aesthetic, y’know?” That was the first thing you said as you entered the cave where he lived. He was standing there startled at how you arrived. “Where should I put my bag?” You wiggled it. “It’s heavy.”

“What is this?” He whispered, taking a few steps closer to you.

“Yeah, that’s a portal, sorry for not coming sooner but you know how faith is, everything needs to happened at an exact moment, sorry for your back I mean it sucks how you fixed it but still a good attempt, want me to patch you up better? I’m really good at it.”

“Who are you?” He confusedly asked you.

You smiled, letting the bag hit the floor and offering a smile. “Well, Namor of Talokan…meet your soulmate!” You exclaimed, your arms opening in happiness.

[peachiemilkytea]

Okay imagine, Eddie Munson x a witch!reader paring

Like he hanging out in the woods after making another deal selling weed. But after the client leaves he hears stumbling and brushing in the bushes.

He feels chills go up his spine. It could be anything. A mountain lion, a wolf, a squirrel! He pulls out his

pocket knife out of his backpack. Holding it out in front of him with a strong grip.

“Who’s there?!” He yells.

There was no answer. There was a shadow of a figure running behind a tree. “I know someone’s there! Stop fucking with me!” He yells.

“No… nobody’s here.” A timid voice says knowing that they were caught either way. She runs away. Eddie chases after the voice.

A tree root that was exposed from the ground tripped him. Making him fall face first into the dirt. The mysterious person hides behind a tree again. Eddie laid on the ground beating himself up for tripping like that. He might’ve lost who he was chasing.

when he looked up from the dirt, a person stood there. She looked like a fairy. She tries to make sure that he’s okay after the tumble. But he’s so mesmerized and entranced by her.

“Woah! You look like a fairy queen!” He says boldly. It was enough to make her nervous. Not often did she get compliments. There wasn’t many people living in the woods besides hikers and campers.

“Sorry that I scared you, I thought you were a bad guy or something. I’m Eddie! What’s your name?”

“(Y/n)…” she said hesitantly. This guy just pulled out a pocket knife and chased her. But I guess that’s why you shouldn’t sneak up on people.

“You look like you come from a fairytale or fantasy novel.”

Like metalhead scary Eddie and fairytale (Y/n). He’s super balls deep into all the fantasy stuff and DND stuff then he comes across a witch!Reader. He’s mind blown that witchcraft is actually a thing that doesn’t just exist in Lord of the Rings. That would be so good omg. Their so similar but opposites of each other <3

[moonpetrichors-blog]

Palm Lector

Tags: Kazuha x Witch!Reader, Palm Reading, Divination, Reader is Just Goofy, Oneshot

Warnings: None

You’re a witch. Kazuha is curious about himself. You’re good at this divination stuff, aren’t you?

* ˚ ✦ 524 Words • Read below the cut

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [06/12/22] ❞

Kazuha observed you rummaging in the bushes in search of herbs.

He initially assumed you were an apothecary or a herbalist, both of which were completely wrong. He was taken aback when he discovered what you truly do, the first time he asked.

You were a witch.

You expected him to be terrified or laugh when you told him about your practice, but instead he seemed intrigued. He followed you the first few times you went on, uh... woodland errands. Since then, he has become accustomed to accompanying you. He can hear and smell everything around him with absolute clarity, so why not use it to your advantage?

So there you were, dragging Kazuha along as you searched for whatever plant you were seeking for, in preparation for a new moon ritual. That's all Kazuha could make out of your ramblings as he strolled through the forest, daydreaming.

You had come to a standstill when you came across the bluebells you were looking for. You laugh at the fact that Kazuha found them with his nose.

“You know, Kazuha, you might be psychic too.”

“Hey, I do have a pretty good sense of smell.”

Kazuha sat on a rock and watched you as you dropped to your knees to gingerly take some, his mind drifting to all sorts of things about your practice. You were interrupted in the middle of gathering the plants.

“Hey, can you read fortunes?”

You set down your basket and looked at him, thinking for a moment.

“I mean, yeah. Depends what kind you’re asking for though. Like, cards?”

He hummed. “I was thinking more of palms.”

You laughed. “Okay, well what would you like me to read, my dear client?”

You sat on the rock besides Kazuha, holding his palm in yours. Your touch was light, even delicate; his eyes lingered on the movement for a second before flitting up to meet yours.

“What kind of person am I?”

You flashed a sly grin. You flipped his hand, and traced the indentation grooves in his skin with your fingers. You motioned to a line at the top of his palm.

“This is your heart line. I can see that you have a gentle personality and carefree demeanor, but you hide many burdens.”

You brush your thumb across his palm, sending shivers up his spine.

“You’re very outspoken and honorable. I can see that you do not let your pride get in the way of what you value.”

You've started massaging his forearm at this point, his voice trembling in his throat. You snicker to yourself.

“You’re not destined for riches, but you don’t care about the material. You’re a good person like that.” Now, you’re staring into his scarlet eyes.

“...Anything else?” He seems antsy now.

“Hmm. You’re going to live a fairly long life.” You caress his skin, smiling.

Kazuha sits up abruptly, fanning himself. He clears his throat. “Maybe we should keep looking for those plants you need. You know, for your ritual.”

You brush yourself off and stand up to follow him. You were amused by how flustered he grew as a result of a simple palm reading, and you were pleased with how much you were able to touch him. But here's the catch;

You don’t know how to read palms.

[frankie-mercury]

A little blurb from Chapter 1 of my Chilling Adventures of Sabrina x Stranger Things Crossover

Eddie Munson/Reader definitely (possible Eddie Munson/Reader/Steve Harrington) smut, angst, sight gore, descriptions of the occult and witchcraft.

Chapter one will be a bumpy ride - setting the scene and establishing what has already happened. Season 4 of Stranger Things with some events pulled from Seasons 1-3. Reader is a Spellman who moved to Hawkins after becoming the queen of hell. Reader is mixed and afab.

Without giving away too much the upside down will be connected to the Dark Lord and more specifically Father Blackwood. If you have seen or caught up on Sabrina or Stranger Things I highly recommend not reading because for obvious reasons spoilers.

Hasn’t been edited yet as I’m still working through chapter 1 so I apologize for errors.

To say your life was hellish was a severe understatement. So much so that your two aunts Hilda and Zelda and cousin Ambrose quickly relocated you to Hawkins, Indiana your senior year of High School. So many things had changed leading up to this move. You had lost friends, lost family connection, fought the “devil” himself and became the Queen of hell at the age of 20. A part of you, buried deep in your soul, longed for normalcy, or what you perceived as normalcy. You loved the gifts of being a witch, you truly did, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Moving to Hawkins was exactly what you needed - even though leaving your family was one of the hardest decisions you had to make. It was what was best for you - and them.

•

Being the new kid is a feeling you despised - especially when you were the different new kid. The black clothing, crystal, sigil and pentacle jewelry also didn’t help with the wondering eyes. You decided your best course of action was to lay low and blend in, as much as a witch could amongst mortals. But per usual, people had other plans.

You had brought a book to read, not minding sitting alone at lunch. Sitting down with your poor excuse of a lunch you pulled your book from your backpack, opening to the last page you had read.

“Hey newbie!”

You jumped at the voice, turning to see a kid wearing a ballcap and a graphic tee with a patterned button up. He motioned for you to come sit at his table, the other boys looking at you. You sighed, shaking your head before putting your book back in your bag and walking over to their table, avoiding the wandering eyes as you sat down.

“How can I help you?”

“Dustin Henderson,” the boy said holding out a hand for you to shake.

“Y/n Spellman,” you said, shaking his hand.

“Eddie Munson,” you turned to put a face to the voice, finding him to be wearing the same shirt under a leather jacket and jean vest, long unruly hair brushing past his shoulders. “Ms. Spellman, it’s an honor,” he said, jokingly bowing to you. You lips unturned in a slight smirk, finding it funny that he knew nothing about you. “You don’t look like the other students here,” he said, gesturing to the necklaces that hung from your neck, all of the bearing pagan and occult symbols. “I like your style,” he added, his brown eyes meeting your sharply lined ones. “We would like to bestow you the privilege to join our group.”

“And what makes you think I’d even want to join your…group?” The boys laughed, egging Eddie on.

“Us freaks have to stick together,” he said, not breaking eye contact with you.

“Freaks? Does that have anything to do with the t-shirts all of you are wearing?”

“These? These have to do with DnD,” Dustin said excitedly. “We could teach you how to play! It’s a b-” The boy beside Dustin hit him upside the back of his head, shaking his own.

“Mike what was that for?” Dustin asked at the same time as you said,

“I know how to play DnD Dustin,”

“Only I can offer an invitation to someone into Hellfire Wheeler, you know that.” Eddie said, turning to look to you. “What do you say sweetheart?” Eddie asked, cocking his head to the side, seemingly interested that you played DnD.

“What’s the harm?” You asked with a shrug, sitting down next to Dustin. You looked at everyone at the table, eyes finding Eddie’s and looking at the magazine in his hands. “What’s the news?”

“The devil has come to Hawkins.” You smile broke for a second, rasing a brow.

“Elaborate?”

“Apparently,” Eddie began, putting on a voice representing a newscaster, “the game has been connected to ritual sacrifice, sodomy, suicide, and even-” he took a dramatic pause, “murder”

“Exciting,” you chuckled under your breath, sighing in slight relief. You had already been at the end of one witch hunt you didn’t want to be at the end of another.

“What are you doing in Hawkins?” Mike asked. You chuckled softly, shaking your head.

“If I told you the truth you wouldn’t believe me,” you said, fingers unintentionally moving to your pentagram necklace.

“You’d be surprised,” Dustin breathed. You opened your mouth to say something, the bell signaling the end of lunch interrupted you. Dustin and Mike both said their goodbyes, as well as the other boys except for Eddie.

“I really like you,” Eddie said softly. “Meet me out in the woods after school.”

“Gonna kill me?”

“Oh no, you’re too hot to kill,” he said with a soft smirk.

“Smooth Munson,” you said with a smile. “You don’t mind being seen with a mixed girl?” You asked softly, your eyes sad as you met his. His brows furrowed in confusion, a faint look of pity meeting yours.

“Look at me, do you think I really care about appearances?” Eddie asked softly.

“No but…”

“No buts sweetheart. I’m not gonna hurt you. I might look scary but I’d never hurt someone.” He said shaking his head. The second bell rang, signalling your time was nearing an end. “Let me walk you to class.”

[jmbringitonworld]

Good Girl Needs Kiss

AO3 link for those who prefer to read fics there.

I'm supposed to be taking a break from writing. I was just going to post the Dream&Nightmare brotherly bonding oneshot I had just finished (which will now have to wait until I've finished this nonsense), and take a break. But this post by @a-snowpoff popped up on my dash, and the tags immediately gave me this ridiculous idea for a fic, which demanded to be written. So here we are, with my latest mistake.

UPDATE: There will be minor Frans (Frisk x Sans) later, so if that's not your cup of tea, DON'T bother reading this and complaining to me later (seriously, I'm sick of it).

________________________________________________

Chapter 1 : A Doggone Disaster

This entire mess started with a simple, innocent wish, as do most of my bad ideas. I just wanted to be able to communicate with animals, so that I could finally have a proper conversation with my black cat familiar, Midnight. Now don’t get me wrong, I could understand Middy about as well as any cat owner could understand their pet, but my little furball and I had a special connection, as a witch and her familiar! We should be closer than your average pet and their owner! I wanted to be able to ask him why he kept leaving dead mice in my slippers, or why he sometimes stared unblinkingly at the ceiling, when there was nothing there besides cobwebs, or why he’d suddenly start yowling in the middle of the night. And, you know, actually receive a proper answer for once. Did he think my slippers were tiny cauldrons he could use? Were the spiders gossiping about me behind my back? Was he chatting up the local ghosts? I had to know!

So, I did the natural thing, and brewed a potion for understanding animals. Simple. But then I wondered about the potency of the spell. How strong was this ability it would grant me? Would I be able to understand all animals, or only some? It would be awful if it was the former. I didn’t want to be able to hear every single creature that creeped and crawled in my lovely little witch’s cottage, after all. And I definitely didn’t want to listen to the animals getting it on in my backyard, especially not those horny foxes, I heard them enough as it was. So then, how to narrow the effect down? And then it hit me. A love-based enchantment! With that, I would be able to tailor the effects of the spell, to only work on those whom I had especially strong feelings for. Genius. What could possibly go wrong?

What I had failed to take into account, however, was one tiny, crucial detail: I was an utter dumbass , who’d never gotten a single spell right on the first try, and whose magical endeavours were more miss than hit. In my defence, most of my screw-ups were entirely fixable, with the consequences being, at worst, a tad... explodey. Nothing I couldn’t work around or reverse. I would be fine , I told myself, surely .

And so, it was with all the confidence of someone who really should know better, that I downed my smoking, puce-coloured concoction, choking down the thick, goopy mixture, while reflexively supressing the urge to gag, and waited, eagerly, for the magic to kick in. It took a couple of seconds, but then, with a * poof* , my world erupted into smoke. It took a while for my coughing to die down, as the smoke cleared away, but eventually I opened my eyes.

Why was everything so big?

Looking around, I noticed how gigantic my home appeared, as if it’d grown a dozen sizes. Wait a minute . A dreadful thought hit me. What if everything around me hadn’t grown , but instead, I’ d shrunk . Fuck. I looked down at myself. Double fuck. What I saw were two fluffy paws. Not hands. Not feet. Paws . Trying to turn around, I stumbled, losing my balance, and fell over, landing in a mass of soft fabric. It took me a little while to realise that those were my official witch robes. I’d become so small, that my clothes no longer fit me. I was completely naked, on top of being much shorter and fluffier than normal. Lovely.

It took a lot of stumbling, shuffling and tripping, but I eventually managed to coordinate all of my limbs enough to make my way over to my floor-length mirror. My jaw dropped at the image which greeted me.

I was a dog.

And not just any dog. A chihuahua . Well, fuck me .

It’s not that I hated dogs, per se, but being a self-respecting witch, I obviously preferred cats. I did get on quite well with my local wolf pack, but that was about it. And now I’d managed to turn myself into a dog. No, a chihuahua . Those nasty, yappy little blighters some weird women liked to carry around in their purses and dress up in ridiculous outfits. Why couldn’t I have been a husky, or a German Shepherd, or something a little more dignified, and a little less... this ? Urgh...

A dark shadow fell over me. Startled, I looked up and realised that Midnight had managed to sneak up on me, without my notice.

“You stealthy bugger, this is all your fault!” I told him.

Or at least, I tried to. But all that came out of my mouth were several high-pitched barks. Oh right, I’m a dog now. Midnight tilted his head at me, studying me with the same intense look of curiosity he wore when examining some new toy I’d gotten for him. He sniffed me, his long whiskers tickling my face and making my nose twitch, then meowed at me. I stared at him. No. No, it couldn’t be. I couldn’t have screwed up this badly! He meowed again. Oh. My. Stars .

I howled (literally) in rage, as I realised that, not only had I been transformed into a dog, not only was I a fucking chihuahua of all things, but I still could not understand a single damn thing my cat was saying! All that work, all those ingredients, all this humiliation and inconvenience I was currently suffering! It was all for nothing ! Could this debacle get any worse?!

As if to answer my hypothetical question, and add salt to my proverbial wounds, Midnight turned his back to me and sauntered away, his long, black tail waving in the air, as if to bid me goodbye. Traitor! Don’t abandon me when I’m at my lowest! We’re supposed to be partners! Come back heeeeere! But my heartless bastard of a cat merely leapt through an open window, with all the grace and agility my clumsy, canine body could only dream of, and disappeared from view. I was officially alone.

Well, fine. Fine , then. I didn’t need anyone. I could fix this, on my own. I was a big girl and a competent witch, right? Wrong , my mind whispered, but I promptly shoved that unhelpful thought aside, and focused on trying to find a solution to my current predicament. First things first, what went wrong? As I pondered that question, I thought back to the lessons my mother, a famed sorceress in her own right, had taught me as a child. All spells were inherently tricky, she would say, no matter how simple they seemed, and it was best to never overcomplicate them, as any number of things could affect a spell’s outcome.

So, perhaps some of the ingredients hadn’t reacted the way I’d expected? Was it the eye of newt that was the problem? Or did I put in too much bat saliva? Maybe I should’ve added some extra frogspawn, to stabilise the mixture a bit more? Hmmm... Oh! I suddenly remembered how my mother had advised me to avoid combining different magical mediums, as it was always difficult to predict how they’d interact with each other, even if their normal effects seemed very straightforward. I guess I shouldn’t have added that enchantment to my potion. Oops. To be fair, my mother did it all the time, but then again, she was an experienced witch and master spellcaster, while I was... not. Yet , at least. But someday, I would be! If I ever managed to return to human form, that is.

I sighed, feeling my ears droop and my tail lower to the floor. But I didn’t allow myself to wallow in self-pity for too long, as I soon pulled myself together and shook my head, my entire body following suit. Okay, think . How do I undo the spell? Well, enchantments were generally easier to break than trying to reverse a potion’s effects, every witch knew that, so I should try to figure out how to do that . The enchantment I’d placed on the potion was based on feelings of love. So perhaps it was those same feelings of love which would break the spell? An idea started to form in my mind.

What about true love’s kiss?

That broke most curses, after all, and what was a curse if not a malicious enchantment? And love was the most powerful magic in the world, with a kiss from one’s true love being the single most effective cure to most unwanted spells. I nodded my head decisively, my overlarge ears flapping with the motion. Love got me into this mess, so love would get me out of it! There was only one problem. I didn’t have a true love.

Being a witch was a full-time job, after all, and a mysterious and often dangerous one at that, with many unforeseen consequences. Case in point: me. A dog. The point was, I hadn’t had the chance to get out much and socialise with the general populace, and hadn’t been on many (read: any) dates. So, I would need to find someone to fall in love with me and give me a kiss. I looked down at my very fluffy paws. While being a dog, I mentally added. How the hell was I supposed to get someone to fall for me as a chihuahua?

I bit my lip, or rather, I tried to, and just ended up baring my teeth in a growl. Well... Maybe it didn’t have to be romantic love? I did specify my platonic love for my cat, when creating the enchantment, so maybe that same, warm, fuzzy adoration for one’s pet would be enough to break the spell? I dearly hoped so. It was either that, or find a zoophile, and I really wasn’t too keen on the latter. So, I needed to find a shmuck- uh, I meant, a kind soul who loved dogs, and who would take one look at my, erm, cute , tiny, fluffy self, and love me enough to kiss me. And then, poof! I’d be back to normal! Easy peasy.

I grinned as best as my doggy mouth would allow me (which probably still just looked like a grimace). What a foolproof plan! All I needed to do was to put it into action. And the best place to find a dog lover, was the dog park. With my tail automatically starting to wag, and consequently shaking my entire body, given how tiny I was, I got to my feet, uh, paws, and made the long, arduous trek to the nearest dog park.

~~~

It took me the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon, as I slowly got used to walking on all fours, but eventually I arrived at my destination. The change in my body was more apparent than ever, as a tidal wave of intense and unfamiliar scents assailed my now incredibly sensitive nose. I stood, frozen in place, as my brain went into overdrive trying to process all these new smells. I hadn’t been this overwhelmed since the first time I entered my mother’s study as a child, and discovered all of her mysterious and mystifying arcane instruments, and all of her ancient tomes filled with esoteric knowledge.

As I stared out at the wide expanse of grass in front of me, and all of the people walking and running around, playing with their pooches, I realised that I could still see the same variety of colour as I could as a human. It seemed that I hadn’t acquired dogs’ dichromatic vision along with their keen sense of smell. Thank my guardian stars for small mercies...

Just then, a flash of white bone crossed my field of vision and something in my doggy brain pinged . Before I realised what was happening, I was already running at full speed towards it and, once I was near enough, I launched myself into the air, jaws wide open and closed them around the hard, white osseous matter.

“YOWCH!!!”

I barely had time to process that almost earsplittingly loud exclamation of pain, before gigantic hands came around my body and firmly yanked me off of the bone I’d just bitten into. Those hands then carried me up, up, up into the air and came to a stop in front of a skull. Said skull proceeded to glare at me, in a way human skulls definitely couldn’t , and started talking.

“YOU MALEVOLENT MUTT! I KNOW THAT I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM IRRESISTIBLE. HOWEVER! MY BONES ARE NOT FOR EATING!! SO IN FUTURE, PLEASE DEVOUR ME WITH YOUR EYES! AND NOT WITH YOUR MOUTH!!”

As his abnormally loud voice washed over me, the realisation dawned on me, then, that I’d just bitten a skeleton monster. Like some rabid animal . How utterly mortifying... Without conscious thought, my ears drooped down, flattening themselves against my head, and my tail tucked itself between my legs. I could feel my eyes widening and my body trembling, as the most pathetic, high-pitched whimpers I’d ever heard, escaped my mouth.

The monster’s expression visibly softened, against all laws of skeletal anatomy, and he sighed heavily, despite being a literal skeleton. Monsters were honestly fascinating , maybe I could persuade this one to let me examine him in the future. Once I’d returned to normal, of course. Ignorant of my inner thoughts, the monster lowered me back to the ground, and gently pet my head.

“OH, NEVER MIND, LITTLE ONE,” he smiled brightly at me, the sunshine glinting off of his pearly white teeth. “I FORGIVE YOU! I AM AN UNDERSTANDING SKELETON, AFTER ALL. I’M SURE THAT YOU DIDN’T MEAN TO HURT ME. YOU OBVIOUSLY COULDN’T CONTROL YOUR URGE TO HAVE A TASTE, WHEN PRESENTED WITH SUCH FINE BONES! I UNDERSTAND! BUT PLEASE!! BE A BIT MORE CAREFUL IN THE FUTURE, OKIE DOKIE?”

And with that, he gave me another few gentle pats to my head, causing my tail to instinctually start wagging wildly, shaking my whole body with the force of the motion, and he stood up. As he walked away, I felt compelled to chase after him. Some primal part of me recognised a kind heart when it saw it, and wanted more of this nice stranger’s wonderful head pats. If the skeleton monster, Papyrus as he’d called himself, noticed me, he gave no indication, continuing his march through the park at a brisk pace, and swivelling his skull around as if searching for something or someone.

After what I estimated was about ten minutes of trailing along behind him, I started to slow down, my limbs growing unbearably heavy and my muscles aching, as my exhaustion from the day’s events finally caught up with me. Coming to a halt, I collapsed onto the grass, panting heavily, and watched Papyrus’s form get further and further away from me. Distress gripped my heart. No! Please don’t go! Don’t leave me! I cried out to his retreating back, and sharp, keening wails filled the air in place of words.

Papyrus froze, before swiftly turning around and marching right back to me. Stopping in front of my prone, tired body, he crouched down to caress my fur with long, gentle strokes.

“WHAT’S THE MATTER, FRIEND?” my ears perked up at the name, and at the warm tone of his voice. My tail began to wag, though much more sluggishly than before, and Papyrus smiled down at me. “YOU’VE BEEN FOLLOWING ME FOR A WHILE NOW. DO YOU WISH TO JOIN ME AND HELP ME SEARCH FOR MY OWN, LOST DOG? HE’S RUN OFF, AGAIN , THAT PERNICIOUS PUP! AND I’M LOOKING FOR HIM. I WOULD APPRECIATE THE COMPANY.”

Yes! I very much would like to join you! I wanted to tell him, but my delighted barks and yips conveyed my meaning well enough. Papyrus seemed to take them for the affirmation that they were, and stood up, looking down at me with a warmth that made my tail wag.

“GOOD GIRL, YOU’RE JUST LOST AREN’T YOU?” he asked me, tone soft and pitying.

He wasn’t wrong, though not in the way he meant it. I weakly tried to stand up, to walk with him once more, but my tired legs could no longer support my body, and I slumped back to the ground. Papyrus frowned down at me, his expression worried.

“OH NO! ARE YOU TIRED, GIRL?”

Without waiting for a response, not that I could really offer one in my state, the tall skeleton picked me up again and tucked me into the crook of the arm not holding a leash. Immediately, I was surrounded by the smell of snow and... spaghetti? It was oddly pleasant, and so comforting, soothing my soul like the greatest calming draught in the world. I snuggled closer into his hold, woofing softly in relief. Satisfied that I was secure and comfortable, Papyrus resumed his search.

From such a high vantage point (goodness, he really was tall, wasn’t he?), I could see far into the distance, though I tried my best not to look down. The height really was dizzying. Being this close to Papyrus, I could hear him grumble to himself.

“I BET THAT MEDDLING CANINE FOUND A STASH OF DOG SLIME TO ROLL AROUND IN!! THIS WOULD BE THE THIRD TIME THIS WEEK! JUST HOW MANY BATHS DO I NEED TO GIVE ONE DOG IN A WEEK…”

He then peered down at me, giving me a considering look. I yipped in his arms, my tongue sticking out as my tail wagged at the attention. Ah crap, these doggy instincts were getting stronger...

“CERTAINLY YOU’D KEEP CLEAN IF I BATHED YOU,” he continued to think aloud.

Well of course I would! Dog slime is not for rolling around in! It’s for adding to witchy brews, to curse someone with the compulsion to chase squirrels and bark at strangers! I huffed at him, offended at the very idea of doing such a thing, and something about my expression or my demeanour must have tickled his funny bone, because he tilted his skull back and laughed.

“NYEH HEH HEH! OF COURSE YOU WOULD! YOU’RE A GOOD GIRL, AREN’T YOU?”

I am! I barked out, feeling proud of myself, inexplicably. Blessed stars, I really have turned into a dog, haven’t I? Hopefully these canine thoughts don’t get any worse. I prayed that the effects of my botched spell were entirely reversible...

After almost an hour of fruitless searching, Papyrus came to a stop, sighing loudly and slumping his shoulders.

“NYOO HOO HOO... DESPITE MY VERY BEST EFFORTS, I HAVE FAILED TO FIND MY DOG... AND IT IS GETTING LATE. I NEED TO RETURN HOME AND PREPARE DINNER. I CANNOT LET MY BROTHER STARVE, BECAUSE OF MY TARDINESS!! I SHALL RETURN HOME, COOK DINNER, AND THEN RETURN TO CONTINUE MY SEARCH! AND I WON’T STOP LOOKING UNTIL I’VE FOUND THAT DOG! EVEN IF IT TAKES ME ALL NIGHT!!”

Papyrus looked really fired up, sparks of light shining in his dark eye sockets, as he clenched the fist not holding me. Then, he glanced down at me, his brows furrowing fretfully.

“AND WHAT ABOUT YOU, LITTLE LADY?” he asked, as if I could answer him. “DO YOU HAVE A HOME TO RETURN TO? A KIND AND LOVING FAMILY THAT IS MISSING YOU RIGHT NOW?”

At that, I thought back to Midnight, and how he’d left me, all on my own, without so much as a backward glance. I complained aloud. I should’ve gotten a toad, instead, or an owl! Those would be more loyal. Less cuddly, though... I miss my kitty ...

Papyrus must’ve taken my shrill, puppy whines as an admission of loneliness, for he quickly cuddled my body closer to his, running one phalange through my fur and scratching me under my chin. Oh. That felt rather nice, actually. Yes, more of that please .

“IT’S ALRIGHT, TINY MISS! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS ,  SHALL BE YOUR FRIEND!! YOU MAY STAY WITH MY BROTHER AND I FOR AS LONG AS YOU LIKE! I PROMISE TO CARE FOR YOU JUST AS WELL AS I DO WITH MY OTHER DOG! AND MAYBE YOU COULD TEACH HIM A FEW MANNERS ALONG THE WAY...”

I most certainly could! I’m very polite, I’ll have you know, and am very well-mannered! Just ask the bats living in my roof.

Papyrus beamed at my excited barking, taking in my wagging tail with delight, his eye sockets lighting up once more.

“WOWIE!! I HAVE MADE ANOTHER CANINE FRIEND! AND HOPEFULLY ONE WHO WON’T STEAL MY SPECIAL ATTACKS!”

I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but I gave him another happy bark anyway. He beamed even harder, letting out another loud “nyeh heh heh”, and took off again, with long, decisive steps, towards the car park. When we arrived, Papyrus came to an abrupt halt in front of a sleek, bright red convertible, where a small, white dog was sitting in the passenger’s seat.

“YOU!! HAVE BEEN HERE!! ALL THIS TIME?!?!”

Papyrus stamped his foot angrily, while the white dog only wagged his tail and gave a few high-pitched yips. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the dog looked almost smug. The dog seemed to take notice of me and leaned forwards eagerly, barking excitedly and wagging his tail harder. Papyrus stopped fuming, then, and held me out towards the other dog, who proceeded to start sniffing me curiously.

“LOOK!! I HAVE FOUND US ANOTHER FRIEND! SHE’LL BE LIVING WITH US FROM NOW ON, SO BE GOOD, OKAY?”

The little white dog barked again, which Papyrus seemed to take as agreement, if his pleased “nyeh heh heh” was anything to go by. He carefully placed me next to the white dog, and rounded the car to take the driver’s seat. As Papyrus started up the car and drove us out of the dog park, my canine companion had clearly decided that I was sufficiently friend-shaped, as he then did his level best to completely cover me in dog slobber. It reminded me of that time a client had asked me to commune with the spirit of her recently deceased wife, who’d then gone on to nearly drown me in ghostly ectoplasm, because I’d misread the incantation, and caused the spirit to believe I was trying to flirt with her, in front of her widow. Ah, good times...

~~~

By the time Papyrus parked his car in front of a large, two-story house, the sun had well and truly set. Exiting his car, the skeleton monster reached over and plucked me out of my seat, cradling me in his arms once more, while the white dog chose to make his escape, leaping out of his seat and dashing through the small dog flap installed in the front door. Papyrus paid him no mind, and made his way into his home, kicking open the door with one foot and loudly announcing his arrival.

“SANS!!! I’M HOME!! AND I’VE BROUGHT A NEW FRIEND!!”

A skull, rounder than Papyrus’s, peaked out from the couch, grinning widely at us.

“oh really? heh, good for you, bro,” his voice was lower and deeper than the taller skeleton’s, and his eyelights looked around for a second, before zeroing in on me when Papyrus held me out in front of him.

“I FOUND THIS SWEET, LITTLE LADY AT THE DOG PARK. SHE WAS NICE ENOUGH TO HELP ME LOOK FOR THAT MISCHIEVOUS PUP WHEN HE RAN OFF, SO I’VE OFFERED TO LET HER STAY WITH US, SINCE SHE HAS NOWHERE TO GO.”

I gave a little woof, putting on my best innocent little angel face, but I wasn’t sure how well that translated on my new chihuahua face. I hoped I wasn’t grimacing like some demented gremlin. But Sans’s grin widened and his eye sockets crinkled at the edges, as he stared at Papyrus’s proud smile.

“that sure was kind of ya, pap. you’re so cool,” his tone was sincere and there was genuine affection in both his expression and his voice. It was clear to me that these two (brothers, right?) were very close. Papyrus did his “nyeh heh heh” laugh again, which I had to admit was really starting to grow on me, before lowering me to the floor, giving me one last head pat, then striding off to an adjacent room. Not wanting to be left alone with a stranger, I ran after him, following him into what I could only assume was the kitchen.

What proceeded was the most intense cooking session I’d ever borne witness to. Papyrus was a very passionate individual, that much was abundantly clear, and he seemed to put his all into everything he did, at least when it pertained to cooking. Ingredients were tossed around like he was launching attacks, and he never stayed in one spot for too long, hopping from one place to another, as if he was dancing to a tune only he could hear.

He was definitely enjoying himself, if his loud laughing and gleeful grin were anything to go by, and his enthusiasm was infectious. I couldn’t help cheering him on, in my own doggy way, and he seemed to take it positively, his movements becoming more frenzied as I barked and howled. He even started to add dramatic flourishes whenever possible, and shot me the occasional wink, as I wagged my tail like never before. When I started spinning around, barking madly, no longer able to contain my energy, Papyrus laughed even harder, the sound filling the room and probably the entire house.

The sound of deep, rumbling laughter caught my attention, and I spun around towards it. Sans was leaning against the door frame, bright eyelights taking in the scene with obvious delight.

“you guys seem to be havin’ a lotta fun in here,” his voice was full of amusement at our antics, fondness clear in his expression as he gazed at the two of us. Papyrus turned to face his brother, striking a pose with his hands on his hipbones and his long, red scarf fluttering behind him, despite the lack of a breeze.

“NYEH HEH HEH HEH!! INDEED WE ARE!! I’M GLAD TO HAVE FOUND A FELLOW COOKING ENTHUSIAST!! IT IS SO WONDERFUL TO HAVE SUCH AN APPRECIATIVE AUDIENCE FOR ONCE!!”

A beep went off, and Papyrus beamed.

“AND YOU ARE RIGHT ON TIME, BROTHER! DINNER IS READY!”

And in a flurry of movement, Papyrus plated up two heaping helpings of mouthwatering spaghetti. That would explain why both he and his entire house smelled so strongly of the pasta dish. It was plainly obvious that it was a favourite of his. He then set both plates on the table in the nearby dining room, before filling up two small bowls with dog food. When he placed the bowls on the floor, the fluffy white dog seemed to materialise out of thin air, given how suddenly he appeared, and launched himself at the nearest bowl, tucking into the dog food with gusto. Meanwhile, I could only eye the dog food with distaste. That was another thing that hadn’t transferred over to my new form: I didn’t have the same tastes as a real dog.

With only one option left, I pattered over to Papyrus and started pawing at his leg, whimpering as sadly as I could manage. When he looked down at me, I willed my eyes to widen into irresistibly adorable puppy dog eyes (much easier in my current body). Feed me , I tried to convey to him, I’m naught but a poor, hungry little pupper, begging for some scraps . He seemed to get the message, his skull taking on a look of pity.

“HAS THE DELECTABLE SMELL OF MY SPAGHETTI ROBBED YOU OF YOUR APPETITE FOR LESSER FOODS?” at my answering * bork! *, he nodded his skull gravely. “IT’S UNDERSTANDABLE. I SHOULD HAVE PREDICTED THIS! I’M SORRY, MY LITTLE LADY, FOR NOT NOTICING SOONER! HERE!! TAKE MY PLATE! THERE’S PLENTY LEFT, SO EAT ALL YOU LIKE! AND DON’T WORRY ABOUT ME. I SHALL GET MYSELF ANOTHER PLATE!”

He deposited his plate in front of me, and I wasted no time in digging in. Despite the show he’d made of cooking it, and all of his exaggerated actions, the spaghetti was surprisingly delicious. Papyrus clearly knew what he was doing in the kitchen and was a more masterful chef than he initially seemed. I resolved to have more faith in him in the future, he definitely deserved it.

When we’d all finished eating (my portion of dog food having been devoured by the other dog, much to Papyrus’s dismay), Sans retired to his bedroom, bidding his brother goodnight and yawning widely, while the white dog curled up in his basket in the living room. Papyrus made me a little nest of blankets and pillows, promising to get me my own dog bed in the morning. With one last, full body pet and a few extra ear scritches, he too retreated to his bedroom on the upper floor, turning off all the lights as he went.

With the room now plunged into total darkness, I tried to make myself as comfortable as possible within my temporary bed, and closed my eyes. Today had taken many, very unexpected turns, but for every dark cloud, there was a silver lining, and mine was meeting Papyrus. I’d known him less than a day, but he’d already found his way into my heart and had built himself a permanent home there, I was sure of it. He was so kind to me, despite the less-than-ideal way I’d introduced myself, and had a high-spirited magnetism that I couldn’t take my eyes off. Something about him drew me inexorably to him, and being a witch, I knew not to ignore fate when she showed her hand so clearly. This skeleton monster was the one who would break my spell and return me to my true form, I was certain of that.

As sleep was beginning to claim me, a sudden sound snapped me right back to full consciousness. Now fully alert, I scanned my surroundings for the source of the noise, and spied two yellow, luminescent eyes by the open window, glowing like floating lanterns in the darkness. I almost yelped in alarm, before I realised that I recognised those eyes. Midnight! You’ve come back to me!

I shot up and ran towards him, as he silently alighted on the floor. The black cat gave me a few sniffs, before bumping his nose against mine in greeting, blinking slowly at me. If my eyes could tear up, they would’ve, given how relieved I was at being reunited with my beloved familiar. Things really were looking up, after all!

But then the white dog apparently noticed our new visitor, and trotted over. The two animals seemed to take an instant liking to each other, sniffing each other thoroughly and circling each other like two excited children playing together. The two then pranced off, beginning an impromptu game of tag and proceeding to completely ignore my presence.

I stared in disbelief at my traitorous familiar, who had once again abandoned me, to go play with a stupid dog . I growled at him. You asshole! How dare you forsake me! Again! See if I give you any more catnip from now on! I swore that, as soon as I returned to human form, the first thing I would do was use a laser pointer to make that jerk run head-first into a wall...

Eventually, the racket from the animals’ playtime, and my aggrieved wails, woke up Papyrus, who stomped down the stairs, turning the lights on, and glaring at us with his arms crossed.

“COME NOW, I KNOW WE’VE ALL HAD AN EXCITING DAY, BUT-” he cut himself off as he spotted the black cat amongst us. Blinking, he approached the intruder and knelt down beside him. “OH HELLO THERE! WELCOME TO SCENIC OUR HOUSE! I’M NOT USED TO HAVING VISITORS OVER AT THIS TIME OF NIGHT, BUT YOU SEEM TO BE A FRIEND OF MY ANNOYING DOG, SO YOU’RE VERY WELCOME HERE, OF COURSE!”

I whined my complaint at the fact that Midnight was supposed to be my friend, not the dog’s. Papyrus reached out towards my cat and picked him up, scrutinising him carefully. He peered closely at Midnight’s collar and squinted his eye sockets at the tag.

“OH! SO YOUR NAME IS MIDNIGHT! WELL THEN, MR. MIDNIGHT, YOU’RE MORE THAN WELCOME TO STAY HERE FOR AS LONG AS YOU LIKE! ANY FRIEND OF MY PET’S IS A FRIEND OF MINE!”

I grumbled to myself, as Papyrus put my cat back down, and barked angrily when Middy once more ignored me in favour of pouncing on that white dog, tackling him to the floor and proceeding to wrestle with him. Papyrus beamed at their playful tussle, but I turned away, padding over to the corner of the room, facing the wall, and started howling my misery for all the world to hear. I was distraught , and godamitall I was gonna express that!

I abruptly stopped crying when I was lifted unceremoniously into the air, and pressed into hard bones. It took me a moment to realise what had happened, but once I’d processed the fact that Papyrus was hugging me, I calmed down against my will. The tall skeleton’s embrace was tight enough that I could feel his attempt to comfort me, but he didn’t squeeze me so tightly that it hurt. Papyrus had always made sure to never hurt me, no matter what.

“AWWW... POOR GIRL... YOU MUST HAVE FELT SO LONELY, SEEING THE OTHER TWO PLAYING TOGETHER, WITHOUT YOU,” his voice was softer than I thought it capable of, and it helped soothe the sting I felt at my familiar preferring another’s company over mine. “BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU THREE CAN’T STILL ALL BE FRIENDS! IT’S ALWAYS MORE FUN TO HAVE MORE FRIENDS!”

But something in my expression must have clued him in to how little his words appeased me. He sighed, then offered me a gentle, reassuring smile.

“IF YOU DON’T WANT TO BE FRIENDS WITH THEM, THEN THAT’S OKAY TOO!! NOT EVERYONE CAN OR SHOULD BE FRIENDS, AND YOU SHOULD NEVER FORCE YOURSELF TO LIKE SOMEONE IF YOU DON’T WANT TO!!” then his expression brightened. “AND NO MATTER WHAT, I’LL ALWAYS BE YOUR GOOD FRIEND!! YOU CAN ALWAYS COUNT ON THE GREAT PAPYRUS TO BE THE VERY BESTEST OF BEST FRIENDS!! AND THE VERY COOLEST OF COOL DUDES!! NYEH HEH HEH!!”

I couldn’t have stopped my tail from wagging if my life depended on it. This guy never failed to lift my spirits. At my joyful yipping and yapping, Papyrus pet my head, and then, instead of putting me back down, he carried me in his arms up the stairs, flicking off the lights, and entered the first room we came across.

My eyes could barely make anything out in the darkness, but as we came closer, I could see that his bed was shaped like a racing car. It felt incredibly fitting. Papyrus lied down on his bed, placing me on his sternum, and lifted his blanket up to cover us up to my neck. With both of us tucked into his bed, the monster rested one large, skeletal hand on my back, and I relaxed under its comforting weight.

“MY MISCHIEVOUS DOG SOMETIMES SNEAKS INTO MY BED WHILE I’M RESTING, NO MATTER HOW OFTEN I SHOO HIM OUT. HIS PAWS ARE SO COLD! IT’S AWFUL!!” his frown softened into a smile as the hand on my back started stroking me, up and down, very gently. “BUT NOT YOU. YOU’RE VERY WARM, AREN’T YOU? SOFT AND WARM AND CUDDLY. MY GOOD GIRL.”

As his sweet words of praise drifted into my ears, I closed my tired eyes and snuggled closer to Papyrus. Below me, I could feel a gentle thrumming, soft pulses of warmth and magic, which made something in my chest, something my witch training had taught me was my soul, answer back with its own light humming. It was these tender feelings which followed me into my dreams that night.

____________________________________________

This was supposed to be a oneshot, but it expanded without my consent, and I've had to concede to making it a twoshot. I pray it doesn't grow any more than that, because I really don't want to make this any longer than it needs to be. It's just supposed to be a short, silly, occasionally sweet, fic. Not some massive project I don't have the energy for. Next (and hopefully last) chapter should be out within a week, unless real life screws me over (again), and then I'm going to hibernate for a while and not even think about writing for the next few centuries. I can't wait （；´д｀）ゞ

Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

[amildartist]

Drabbles of a Witch and Their Weird Baby Creature | Chapter Three

Drown an Adam, Save a Life

You grabbed onto the wall and peered past the corner. Concentration made your eyes untypically wide. Adam was somewhere in your apartment; he snuck off as soon as you made the comment like he knew exactly what would happen. "Adam," you cooed, "Come on. Don't make this shit harder than it needs to be, you little bitch." You twisted around, your head tilting at a small creak behind you, and you grinned. Two large eyes glowed from under your couch. Your head tilted to the other side and you slowly strolled closer. If you made a dive for him now, you knew the goblin would bite you again. So slowly. You needed to stalk that little shit. 

"It's been a week, Adam. You stink more than you did when I found you in literal trash," you said, carefully sneaking across the room like the floor was full of landmines. Your couch quivered in response. 

A blur of brown, white, and yellow streaked past you. The tell-tale squeak of your loose kitchen cabinet told you exactly where he ran. A different squeak—boarding on chattering—followed it. "Oh, come on! I'm pretty sure you're actually growing mold at this point! Let's just get this over with." Another series of high-pitched chattering answered you and, from a week with the creature, you could safely guess he was chanting curses at you.

Your eyebrow twitched and you had to force yourself not to rush the process. Even when everything inside of you wanted to just fill the kitchen sink and scrub him like dirty laundry. Honey, you reminded yourself, just have to use honey. "I got you one of those baby bath seats."

Adam glared at you from between a slight crack before shoving a small hand out and flipping you off. Just as quickly, it was back inside in the safety of the darkness. Your eyes narrowed.

"I spent a lot of money to get it."

He blew a raspberry and another quick middle finger.

"Now you're just being rude," you muttered and crossed your arms. Your hip popped to one side, your head in the other, as you tried to think of a way to get Adam into the bathtub. You were not lying when you thought he was growing mold; he stank like something rotten. It was...disgusting. Horrible. It made your nose burn when you were around him too much, the smell far too similar to an unwashed jockstrap or a sock that had never seen the inside of a washer. You couldn't stop the gag as the scent wafted in your direction. 

Think, think, think. You chanted internally. Maybe some manifestation would help. As you began the simple, one-word mantra, you allowed the energy collecting in your apartment and from the street to gather. You were desperate enough to use the untapped energy—invisible, swirling—but not desperate enough to tap into anything gathering in your neighbors' apartments like a thief. It caressed your skin with your careful prompting and your mind slowly cleared from all distractions. Through the self-imposed daze, you vaguely heard the cabinet door crack open on its rusty hinges. You ignored it and let yourself fade deeper, your eyes slipping closed as you focused. 

You needed an answer. You needed to get Adam to bathe. 

Something was worming its way through the open door inside. You let it through, a faint emotion of surprise fluttering in your chest. It was an unexpected visitor. A guide that rarely interacted with you. They coaxed themself around your mind, pulling at your thoughts like strings. Haltingly, they turned you in a possible right direction, plucking at your brain for those already formed thoughts: use Adam's pride against him. You send your thanks through the dwindling link. An amused feeling of welcome replied before they swiftly left you alone.

The sudden, sharp intake of breath was a mistake. Adam, as you had thought, had opened the cabinet door to stare at you. With it came the smell. Strong and potent without the—admittedly—flimsy wood as a barrier. You choke on air, sputtering and flailing like a fish out of water, collapsing against a countertop hard enough for the sharp edge to stab into your side. "Motherfucker!" you wheezed. With strength you certainly hadn't felt at the moment, you turned to look over your shoulder. Adam's face was blank except for the twitching of a thick brow. Then he was chattering at a high speed, sharp teeth bared and nose furrowed like a rabbit's. Small arms waved wildly around him in a half-circle.

It was time.

Adam cut himself off with a shrill squeak, eyes narrowing.

Your mouth pulled into an unsightly grin, his body tensed, and you slowly turned back around. "You know," you began, "It's not really shining you in the right light." At his furrowed lip, you continued with the flush of pure unadulterated spite fueling you, "I mean, just imagine! First Man Adam, the forefather of all dicks everywhere, being able to clear entire rooms...no...clearing buildings just because of his rank, disgusting, foul body odor." You paused for dramatic effect, your eyes shining with maliciousness. "Why, one might even call it a demonic ability." You fell into a half-crouch, elbows bent and hands spread on either side of your face with wild eyes and an unhinged grin. Even without a mirror, you knew you likely looked highly unstable. But you couldn't find it in yourself to give a shit; Adam + Bath = No stinky smells was far too important an equation that you desired to solve.

Check. Bingo. You had won the battle.

His mouth fell open and his squinted eyes flung open. He ran himself to your bathroom. You followed with a cackle worthy of the witch you were.

So...you might have celebrated too early.

Once in the bath, the little Adam creature wasn't willing to let you have the win so easily. He splashed, slashed the child bath seat's plastic covering to hell (you silently mourned the cute ducklings and the loss of your money), and shook his junk in your face while maintaining direct eye contact. At one point, he had managed to get behind you while you tried to unclog your bathtub—he had shredded a bar of soap and jammed it into your drain—and he had headbutted the back of your knee hard. You fell head-first into the dirty water.

All in all, you left that bathroom completely traumatized. After you showered, of course, washing yourself no less than three times and slathering your tub in bleach.

Now, Adam was peacefully cleaning his ears with a soft baby ear cleaner—the only baby item you had bought that he hadn't destroyed immediately—a large, fluffy pink towel drowning his body with a powder blue hand towel wrapped in his now correct colored hair. You hadn't noticed until the water in the tub had turned brown how dirty his hair had been. He sat on the couch on a pillow, preening. You had changed into a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a graphic T-shirt, your towel hanging limply around your neck while you stared unseeingly at the Disney Plus home screen; you mindlessly selected The Little Mermaid, your remote falling out of your hands to land on the floor. You glanced at it before deciding it was too much effort to bend down and pick it back up. Its new home was your floor for the unforeseeable future.

That was terrible. It was horrible. But your apartment was no longer being assaulted so it was a necessary evil. You told yourself it was necessary repeatedly. If you told yourself that enough times, you would start to believe it. Fuck, you felt like you had lost your very soul. Maybe it went down the drain side-by-side with your disfigured soap? They had both been mutilated, after all. Just as you were relaxing into a half-doze in your armchair your cell phone rang. Startled, you jumped straight up in your chair and fumbled through your sweatpants' pockets. 

You answered without looking. "Hello?"

"Oh, wow, my baby actually answered my call? What's goin' on? You're not dyin' on me are ya, sweet pea?" 

And this wasn't a conversation you should be having with Adam in the room. You snuck a glance at him and did a doubletake. He was watching the movie with uncharacteristic enrapturement, his face slack and for once not mournful, angry, or smug. The creature actually almost looked adorable. Almost. On light, practiced feet, you snuck around the back of the couch and into your kitchen area. You kept him firmly in the range of your sight and whispered, "Hey, mama. What did you find out?"

There was a scoff on the other end. "Being used by my very own child! And they're not even gonna ask me how I'm doin'. Which I'm doin' just fine by the way, thank you askin'. You know you could stand to be just a bit more respectful to your mama. After all, I'm not always gonna be here for ya and that can be so frightenin'. Why, I remember when I lost my—" 

You pulled your cell phone away from your ear, looked up at your ceiling, and groaned. "Ma," you interrupted her tangent that you knew from experience would quickly have you both off-topic, "How are you doing?"

"Eh, could be better honestly. Work hasn't been doin' well and I think your pa might have prostate cancer or somethin' 'cause that man's bladder has been actin' up somethin' awful. And, of course, he's as stubborn as a fuckin' mule and he won't go to the doctor." 

"Well, yeah, he can be as stubborn as a fuc—"

"Watch your language! Honestly, did I raise ya in a barn?" 

Your eye twitched and you reached out to your guides for aid in keeping patience in this trying time. Two of them wrapped you with positive energy, another—the one who helped you earlier with figuring out how to get Adam in the bath—was amused and you felt they were content in watching you struggle; the two actually helpful guides felt disgruntled and disapproving.

"Anyhow, how have you been sugarplum?"

"Besides the First Man and apparently the first 'mortal' angel crashing at my apartment? Pretty good. I just got a raise." And a well-fucking-deserved raise it was. You worked your whole ass off for it, sucked up to your managers with coffee and muffin bribes, and worked overtime for two weeks straight.

Your mother squealed, her end of the call suddenly muffling with rapid movements that you assume were her doing one of the dances she saved for when you accomplished something. "You get ya money, honey! Drain those corporate fuckers dry!" There was a brief moment while she caught her breath. "Alright, so I did find somethin' out about why that man is there instead of Heaven. My guides have been helpin' somethin' great and it's big news, baby, very big news."

"What news?" you asked hesitantly, stealing a glance at Adam. He was still invested in The Little Mermaid and he was now lying down on his stomach, chewing mindlessly at his thumb as Ariel's father destroyed her human trinkets. If you didn't know any better, you could have sworn you saw tears gathering in those large eyes of his as they flickered across the screen in an attempt to capture everything he could. Your brow furrowed briefly. 

"Hon," your mother started, exhaling sharply and making your speaker crackle, "Adam died. I mean, died died. I don't know the full story since I'm still among the living and the afterlife is kept on a tight leash from us, but somethin' happened and he died for good."

Turning slightly to the side, you cupped your mouth around your cell phone. "What? What the hell does that mean, ma? He's right here. Obviously, he didn't 'die for good.'"

"Yeah, that's somethin' I was able to get a clear answer on. Buckle up, buttercup, because this is some shit, I swear." There was a muffled shuffle and then a distant 'don't touch the cookies.' "Sorry, your pa is actin' up and tryin' to snack. Yes, I'm fuckin' telling on ya! You actually listen to our kiddo! Why wouldn't I use that against ya? Anywho, pineapple, Adam messed up at some point. He wasn't supposed to return to Earth in any fashion or Heaven for that matter."

Your stomach rolled and tightened. "What does that mean? What are you saying?"

She hesitated. Your mother never hesitated much to your own childhood and adulthood embarrassment.

"He's supposed to be Hell." 

FIRST | BACK | NEXT (not released yet)

[witchthewriter]

Gaz: I sleep with a knife under my pillow.

Soap: Weak. I sleep with a gun.

Y/N: You’re both pathetic

Soap: What do YOU sleep with?

Y/N: Simon.

[themidnightcrimson]

good morning ࿏ wm

summary: in which you decide to get what you want first thing in the morning.

words: 3.9k

warnings: top!wanda, power bottom!reader, dubcon/noncon, breeding kink, cumstrap (r receiving), somno (r giving), blowjob on cumstrap (r giving), enhanced strap, brief choking, just imagining slutting top!wanda out like this woeidbsibfwioe its the power bottom in me

this fic is for 18+ only. minors dni. read with discretion.

masterlist.

The room was cool and the bed warm by the time you woke up. Legs shifting smoothly under the crisp sheets, you could hear the faint chirp of a lone bird outside the window along with what sounded like a gentle spring morning rain shower.

Plat plat plat plat the rain softly tapped against the window and quietly onto the roof above you. It was a sleepy rain, an early morning rain whose clouds blocked the sun from glaring through your window. It made waking a little easier, a little more soft.

The other thing that made waking a peaceful experience was the warm body you were tangled up with. The soft, curled ends of light brown hair tickled your bare shoulder, and it was the first thing you saw in the dim room as you opened your eyes. Your head rose and fell slowly with Wanda’s steady breath. It was resting on her bare chest, the skin there hot against your ear. She always slept so hot.

Your legs were tangled with hers, your arm thrown across her torso. As you blinked your eyes awake, you tilted your head upwards to get an angle of her from below. The stretch of her jawbone, the mountain of her cheekbones just beyond it. Heavy eyelashes fluttered closed, deep pink lips pursed in her sleep. The crinkle between her eyebrows that was always there when she slept. She was starting to get a permanent wrinkle from it, and while she was embarrassed of it, you told her it was just the imprint of all the dreams she’d ever had right there in one wrinkle between her brows so she would never forget them. Wanda was always a deep dreamer, for better or worse.

The puffy comforter you shared rested right below her breasts, likely pushed down during her overheated sleep. Her hair was splayed over her chest, barely covering the peaks of her soft pink nipples. Her skin looked pale and soft under the dim gloomy morning light. You let your hand glide over the soft expanse of her tummy, fingers pressing into her flesh as you shift, waking up a little more. Letting out a silent yawn, you casually let your hand stroll further down beneath the blanket, being thrown off guard a little when your hand touches cool silicone between her legs.

It was Wanda’s new creation still left strapped around her hips via harness from last night’s endeavors. It took a lot of research and magical effort for Wanda to create her enchanted strap that functions like a biological part of her body. Using her magic, she enchanted the strap so that she can feel through it and cum through it. Let’s just say the first few tries once she perfected it could be described as very quick, hot, and wet on her end. It was the most mind-blowing feeling she had ever felt, being able to feel you inside. Even now, a few weeks later, she still warns you how sensitive it still is, which you could tell from the beginning because of how fast she came with you.

Wanda’s magic was very powerful—spontaneous creation. For that reason, she insisted on wearing a condom the first several times using the enchanted strap out of fear of accidental pregnancy, though you knew she secretly had a breeding kink. Finally, she stopped using condoms, but she still pulled out of you every time. It was hot, seeing her get so close to just doing it, to just letting go and planting her cum deep inside you. You could see it on her face every time. But every time, milliseconds before release, she pulls out and chooses to spill all over your tummy or back instead. Of course, that was also hot in its own right. But you desperately wanted her to cum inside. You weren’t sure if it was the risk or the ownership aspect of it, but you fucking needed it.

And you knew she wanted it too. She had a tendency to hold you down when she’s about to cum, almost as if she is about to force you to take her cum, which you willingly would take every single drop. You even told her in a heated moment of passion to cum inside you once, and she almost did accidentally. Hearing you say that made her orgasm immediately, and she had to frantically pull out right as she spurted all over your mound, making sounds you’d never heard her make.

And now, in the dim morning light with cozy rain coming from outside, and Wanda’s soft, warm sleeping body with her cock in your hand as you thought over all these times with the new magical piece, you wanted it.

But she was so pretty and peaceful in her sleep with her crinkled brow of dreams and her slowly rising and falling chest. You wouldn’t wake her.

Licking your lips, you shifted your body so that you hovered over her, taking great care in slinking down her body without moving the blankets or the bed too much. With the hem of the blanket resting at the back of your neck, you rested your elbows over her plush thighs, eyeing the strap that now sat right in front of your face.

Humming, you trail your fingers to the harness straps, fiddling with the fabric on her hips for a moment before you carefully let them trail to the base of her cock, taking it in your fist gently. Glancing back up to her, you saw the same image—her head resting on the pillow, turned to the side, sleeping peacefully like an angel. The warmth between your legs grew as you formulated the plan of your desires, licking your lips and coming closer to her strap.

You placed Wanda’s length in your mouth. It surprised you every time how big she was—an advantage she smugly gave herself when crafting her piece. Suctioning your lips, you began to swirl your tongue around the tip of the strap with a gentle but purposeful pressure.

It didn’t take long before your mouth ignited the spell within the strap, and her magic peered through the silicone in cracks that looked like molten lava in a crimson hue. That’s how you knew she was aroused now, and as you looked up at her again, she was still sleeping as peacefully as ever.

It took some practice for you to understand how to give your girlfriend a blowjob since it was your first time, but Wanda was patient and could get off with basically any touch you gave her with how sensitive the strap felt when she wore it anyways.

So you lowered your mouth further down on her strap that was warming up between your lips, keeping your hand on the base to keep it steady. Letting your other hand gently squeeze her thigh, you sucked her gently, wanting to make her feel good but not wanting to wake her up. It startled you when, as you took her entirety in your mouth so that the tip of her cock poked the back of your throat, Wanda’s legs twitched under you. It was only once and, looking up as you deepthroated her, you saw that the sleeping look on her face remained unchanged.

The depth with which you took her in your throat prompted tears to form in your eyes and saliva in your mouth. Sniffling, you kept taking her all the way in and then suctioning as you lifted your mouth from her, letting your tongue flick around her tip before deepthroating her again. You were slow and gentle, but she was hot and throbbing with magical arousal. You could even smell it on her now and, reaching down under the base where her slit was, you found that she was wet there, too.

Getting excited, you bobbed your head perhaps a little too hard, and she twitched again, this time letting her head sway to the other side. You paused, waiting for any sign of further movement or signs of being awake, but she was still deep asleep, the crease in her brow deeper now. You went back to sucking her off dutifully, and as wet sounds filled the air, Wanda moved again, this time arching her back. The movement sent her hips bucking up, which shoved her cock into your throat unexpectedly, causing you to choke on her girth.

Recovering, you continued carefully and watched as she twitched and squirmed in her sleep, somehow still staying deep asleep even as you could feel her throb faster. Her lips fell open at one point, soft gasps of air filling the quiet, dim room along with your wet sucking sounds. Her body heated up even more under your hands, and she started to buck her hips more.

Picking up your speed, you deepthroated her more and more, choking yourself on her strap while she grew even more restless. You knew she was seconds away from cumming, so you grabbed the base of her strap and sucked harder and faster. Finally, with a whispery, sleepy moan, and a more violent twitch of her hips, Wanda came in your mouth. You kept your mouth around her, feeling her warm cum gush at the back of your throat and ooze down it. You waited, letting her twitch and gasp and push out every last drop of cum before you finally swallowed it and took her out of your mouth. She was sweet to the taste with just a hint of metal, an interesting mix of her magic that reminded you of the taste of her real arousal.

There were many benefits to this magical creation of Wanda’s, one of many being that there was an unlimited supply.

Her cock now wet and shiny and slightly glowing, you carefully crawled back up her body and straddled her. She had almost immediately fallen back into utter stillness as soon as she came, except for her chest that was rising and falling much faster now. Biting your lip, you reached down and took her breasts into your hands, squeezing and letting your thumb roll over her nipples that were already rock hard for you. You could feel her cock, resting below your thigh, twitch and throb, basically vibrating with magic. All you could taste was her cum that coated the inside of your mouth, the taste still soaked into your tongue.

She just looked so pretty, even more relaxed now, having just helplessly cum in your mouth without even knowing it. Leaning down, you pressed a chaste kiss to her still lips before moving your mouth to her neck and pressing soft, wet kisses there. You let your hand grope her breasts for a moment before sliding it down and rubbing her tummy, lowering it further and further until you reached below yourself and took her strap in your hand again.

Still kissing her neck, and feeling her twitch once below you, you adjusted yourself over her cock and rubbed your throbbing, wet slit down her length, not letting it go inside. You remember the first time you did that, before she ever went inside you with the new strap, and she had prematurely came. She had been so embarrassed, taking off the cum-filled condom and tearing the strap off of her and getting up, but you’d found it so hot. You loved having this control over her. You loved knowing that you held this power over her, that you could make her cum so easily, that she desired you so much that she found it hard to even have any control. You wanted to tease her constantly, to degrade her and embarrass her by using her desire for you against her.

Wanda’s sleepy breaths hitched as you rubbed your warm, wet folds up and down her length, leaving a wet, sticky trail on the strap. She shifted under you, turning her head back to the other side. Her eyebrows creased deeper, her face contorting into a look of neediness as she subconsciously bucked her hips, pushing herself harder onto you. Chuckling, you gave her one last kiss on her neck before sitting up fully, unable to control yourself anymore. You wanted to get what you truly wanted out of her before she woke up.

Your breathing growing heavier, along with the rain pattering much harder on the window outside, you lined Wanda’s cock up with your entrance, letting it sit there pressed against it for a moment. You took a deep breath—her size still surprised you, and you still needed to relax and prepare yourself before taking her in. Thanks to the blowjob and how wet you were, there was enough lubrication for you to lower yourself down on her cock, feeling her slide right in and stretch your walls around her.

“Fuck,” you whispered as you stopped halfway, feeling a tinge of pain. Wanda shifted beneath you, which didn’t help, so you just took another deep breath and basically slammed yourself down on her, Wanda’s entire cock ramming deep inside you.

As if on cue, right as you let out a louder shriek than you meant to because of the way her cock hit your cervix, Wanda also let out a sleepy form of a moan, her head swaying to the side as her legs shifted under the blankets below you.

Placing your hands on her shoulders, you stayed still and felt her throb inside you as she squirmed, watching her eyes scroll side to side behind her eyelids. Biting your lip, you slowly lifted yourself off halfway before coming back down again, nearly seeing stars when she hit your deepest point again.

It was obvious that doing this wasn’t going to keep her asleep for much longer. She was still moving, eyelids fluttering, lips twitching as if trying to speak between her growing breaths. She was breathing faster now, redness blooming on her cheeks.

There was no point in being careful now. Grinding your teeth together, you rolled your hips, throwing your head back as she hit your sweet spot in your lower tummy. She was so big that her cock was basically all you could feel as you rode her, feeling pure pleasure bloom inside you as you anticipated the ending you were dreaming about.

“Mmmm-nnnn” Wanda murmured as she squirmed more beneath you, kicking at the sheets covering her feet and arching her back. “Ahhh…” She was starting to come to, being lured by your actions into an in-between state between sleeping and waking. She was arching her back off the bed and bucking her hips up into you, natural instinct to have more friction and be as close to you as possible coming through.

Power filled you as you stared down at the helpless witch, her cock lodged deep inside you, throbbing as you bounced on it. You bit the tip of your tongue and squeezed her shoulders, digging your nails into her skin as you rode her cock.

The feeling of your nails in Wanda’s skin was the one thing that brought her into awareness. Her eyelashes fluttered, mouth dropping open. Finally, her eyes opened fully, exposing those pretty irises that were usually green but were now a deep, sleepy crimson red from the magic she was subconsciously using.

A grin slashed across your own face, your tummy filled with excitement as you watched the look of confusion on Wanda’s once peaceful face. This was the second moment you were anticipating the most. Her eyebrows contorted in confusion as she stared up at you, her eyes blank with dumb sleepiness at first as her mouth let out heavy breaths. Then she blinked a few times, her eyes falling down over your body and to her own. She saw her cock, glistening with wet, appear halfway with every other bounce you made. She watched it appear as you lifted up, and then disappear again as you slapped yourself down on her lap.

Then she felt it. The tight, wet warmth. The squeezing of your walls around her. The more textured parts around your cervix, how much warmer and tighter you felt the deeper she was. Your lips smushed against the base of her cock when you had her fully inside. The ridges of your cunt massaging her length as you jerked up and down on her, the friction feeling like a white hot flame of pleasure with each stroke.

Her mouth fell open wider with a loud, startled moan, her hands immediately slapping onto your hips and holding them. “Baby!” she exclaimed in surprise, trying to blink the bleariness out of her eyes as you continued fucking yourself on her.

You giggled at her reaction, how she was confused but so turned on and so obviously overwhelmed by the feeling of you milking her cock as soon as she woke up, this being the very first thing her consciousness experienced this rainy morning. You felt her cock swell a little inside you, now that she was awake with her magic.

Her breathing turned into gasps, her eyes squeezing shut as she hissed through her teeth, her hips trembling as you slammed down onto them. “Fuck, baby, fuck, fuck,” she croaked, her voice sleepy and husky and burning hot in your ear.

“I always wanted to wake you up like this,” you whispered, scratching down her chest and over her nipples, causing her to let out the cutest little high-pitched whimper.

“Fuck,” was all she could whisper, holding your hips as they bounced up and down on her length.

You could see the sweat breaking on her forehead, the flush in her cheeks, the way her tummy tightened under your palm. She was getting close.

“D-Did you use prot-protection?” Wanda stammered, her brown hair starting to stick to her temples. She knew the answer. She could feel it, but she needed to ask anyway.

Chuckling, you let out a pornographic moan just to make her shudder and then said, “Nope.”

Wanda’s eyes widened a little in panic. She could already feel herself leaking a little, or maybe it was just your wetness, which was also dripping down her shaft and onto her thighs. Through the slight panic in your eye you could see the desperation, the idea she always dreams about sitting right there in her brain.

You purposefully clenched, and she bit her lip and threw her head back, her body lifting off the bed as she pushed herself into you. You gasped at the depth but used your strength to pin her hips back down to the bed.

“Baby,” she breathed, her eyes barely open. “Baby, get up.” Her voice grew breathy with quickness. “I’m gonna cum. Get up.” She slapped your hip a few times to make you get up, but you kept riding her.

“No,” you purred, leaning down closer to her face and smirking. “You can easily push me off if you want to.” You watched her, struggling to keep her eyes open, her body moving with your bouncing, look up at you with such a strong mix of horror and desire on her face. You waited, but she only continued to struggle beneath you, not making any effort to use her magic or strength to push you off. “So why don’t you?”

Wanda whined, throwing her head back and closing her eyes as if just looking at you was going to make her bust. Her nails dug into your hips as she trembled, looking like the pleasure was turning into pain as you continued to ride her. There was no way she would actively deny you. She could stop herself all she wanted when it was her in control, but if you were going to take it from her, she couldn’t not acquiesce.

“Baby, please,” she murmured through gritted teeth, tears forming in the corners of her eyes from the struggle to keep herself from cumming. You knew she could stop it if she wanted to—you didn’t have her physically wrangled, and even if you did, her magic could put an end to it immediately. “Please, get up, I can’t hold it.”

Grinning, you slam your hand over her throat, and she gasps, choking slightly as you squeeze her throat. “You’re so cute like this,” you whisper, “Begging me to stop. You’re the one who can’t control yourself.”

Tears were falling down her cheeks now. “Please, please,” she begged, her eyes squeezed shut. “Please, baby, I can’t—I can’t hold it—I’m gonna cum, fuck, please…”

“Do it. Give me all your cum,” you hiss, riding her harder to the point where the bedframe slams against the wall. Wanda, choking on the pressure of your hand around her throat, trembled and violently twitched below and inside you as she tried her hardest to hold it. But she was hot to the touch, and so were you, and your cunt felt so good squeezing around her cock, and you were taking complete advantage of her which she found to be so hot, and she hadn’t been able to stop dreaming about breeding you for weeks now, and it was all too much for her to even stop it.

“Fuck, baby, fuck, get off, I’m gonna… fuck, fuck fuck!”

Wanda’s nails dug into your hips as her words turned into incoherent babbles, her mouth falling wide open and her body lifting completely off the bed as she finally lost all control. You tried to watch her as long as you could, but your eyes fluttered closed when finally you felt her cock give one last hard twitch before loads of her burning hot cum went gushing deep inside you, splashing the wall of your cervix and filling your tummy all up.

The feeling made you cum, shivering on top of her and squeezing around her which only prolonged her orgasm even more. Wanda saw flashing images of you pregnant, which had been fueling what she thought was fear for weeks now, but she was learning just now that that fear was pure fetish. She tugged your hips down onto her and pushed herself as deep inside you as possible as she loaded you with her cum, surprising you with her strength as she kept you in a complete hold.

After a few moments, when she had filled you with all she had to give, which was a shocking amount this time because of how long she had held it, and you were limp against her chest, recovering from your own orgasm, Wanda finally relaxed, letting go of your hips and closing her eyes.

“Fuck,” she breathed, panting as sweat rolled down her tear-streaked face. You were quiet for a minute, relishing the feeling of a full tummy of Wanda’s cum, her cock throbbing gently in your cunt. You were so glad she’d enchanted that strap.

Finally, you hummed, looking up at her. She looked dazed and fuzzy-minded, her eyes hooded and cheeks blushing red from embarrassment. She sighed and grinned sheepishly, placing her hands over her face. You smirked. “That was a lot better than cumming on my tits, right?”

Wanda breathed. “Well, good morning to you, too.”

[marvelfilth]

Need (18+)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader x Wanda Maximoff

Warnings: g!p Natasha Romanoff, g!p Wanda Maximoff, implied influence of sex pollen, PWP, threesome, unprotected sex, blow job

Summary: absolutely zero plot, straight up PWP

Masterlist

You finally let yourself relax for the first time in the past two days, closing your eyes and throwing yourself on the couch.

You hate stealth missions. You are more of an explosion type of girl, coming in with a bang, kicking some ass and leaving as soon as possible, but this - staying hidden, moving in shadows, and sneaking behind people's backs - this is more of a Natasha thing, which is why she is the one in charge.

You sigh, turning your head to look at the redhead. She is bent over some documents, her brows furrowed in deep thought. Wanda appears by her side a moment later, drops of sweat rolling down her temples.

You sit up, and focus on the women in front of you. Hours ago something went wrong when you split up, they came back looking as guilty as ever, reassuring you that everything was alright, and you believed them then. Now you're not so sure.

"Is everything okay?" You ask, pinning them down with your eyes.

Wanda jumps in surprise and moves to stand behind the table, slightly bending over. Your eyes narrow at the sight.

"Everything is alright. You should go to the store, we don't have anything to eat," Natasha says through gritted teeth, not meeting your eyes.

Your mouth opens in shock, eyes straying to Wanda's in search of support, but you find her in a similar state - eyes dark and jaw clenched tight.

"You two go to the store. Maybe some fresh air will help you get your shit together." You huff, choosing to walk away from the women and hole up in your room, but when you pass by Wanda, your hand accidentally grazing hers, she lets out an actual growl, the wood of the table squeaking in her hold. Her eyes burn bright red, her mouth open as she pants heavily.

"What's wrong?" You hurry to her side, cupping her jaw to inspect her face, and her hips thrust forward, her eyes closing as she whines.

"You need to go." Natasha's low voice reaches your ears, making you look at the redhead. "Leave, before it's too late."

You blink and take a step back, concern swirling in your chest. "What is going on? Let me help."

Wanda takes a deep breath, her hands trembling as she reaches for your hand.

"Wanda," Natasha warns, her tone steel-like, but Wanda pays her no mind, her fingers hot on your arm as she pulls you flush against her front, burrowing her nose in the back of your neck and grinding her hips against your backside, her rock hard cock straining in the confines of her pants.

You gasp, unconsciously arching your back to meet her messy humps, her hands curling around your waist, her mouth hot on your neck. "W-wanda."

Natasha walks around the table and you finally see her fully, see the bulge in her pants, see the veins in her tense forearms. "Leave," she croaks, "before we completely lose control."

You let an involuntary whimper, the sound making Natasha pounce on you with animalistic need. Her lips are on yours, enveloping you in their warmth, her hands are rough on your hips, squeezing and tugging you away from the other woman, but Wanda doesn't budge, growling against your neck and holding on to your waist.

Natasha stumbles back, breathless, and closes her eyes tightly, her fists clenched tight. "This is your last chance. If you don't leave now, we'll take it as your permission to do whatever we want to you."

Wanda hums against the slope of your neck, nipping and sucking on the tender skin, her hot tongue soothing the sting. You gulp, head falling back against her shoulder.

"Use me," you whisper, "do whatever you want."

Natasha's eyes flash, and then she's pushing you down to your knees. Your mouth falls open as her pants and underwear slide down her legs. Her fat cock stands proudly against her stomach, precum leaking down the tip. You barely have enough time to wet your lips before she pushes it down your throat, holding your face between her hands and fucking your mouth like her life depends on it. She throws her head back, strands of her fiery red hair framing her face as she loses herself in her desire.

Wanda mewls beside you, and you glance at her, eyes widening when you see her straining cock in her fist. She pumps it fast, her eyes on you, and you reach out, your fingers wrapping around the length. She closes her eyes, her hands settle on your shoulders as you slowly jerk her off, your throat burning from Natasha's cock. She pulls away to let you take a breath, but you don't have enough time for that - Wanda immediately takes her place, shoving herself into your mouth, her balls slapping against your chin.

You blink back tears, trying to relax your throat, but still gagging on her length.

"M'sorry, detka," she murmurs, "you'll have to take it all."

Natasha taps her tip on your cheek, her fingers tangling in your hair. You pull away, finally allowed to breathe properly, and clench your thighs at the sight of their cocks in front of your face, your wetness staining your sleep shorts as you subtly grind on your heel.

Natasha growls, and then you're pulled off the floor and thrown over the spy's shoulder. She carries you to her bedroom with ease, and throws you on the bed. Wanda hurriedly tugs off your clothes, almost ripping your underwear in haste to get you naked. Natasha is on you the second you're laid bare, ready to claim your most vulnerable part. You spread your legs, bending them at your knees, your thighs wet with your arousal. Natasha tugs you closer, and forces you on your hands and knees.

"Better," she husks, the tip of her cock pushing between your folds and into your tight heat, your walls clenching tightly around her shaft. She moans, thrusting balls deep, "Such a good pussy, taking me like a good slut."

You cry out, mouth falling wide open, and see Wanda settle in front of you, her cock still wet with your spit. She takes hold of your jaw and pushes your head down, simultaneously thrusting her cock deep inside your throat. "Fuck, Nat, we should've done this sooner."

They fuck you like you're a common whore, using your holes to their liking, Wanda's balls slapping against your chin, Natasha's palms placed possessively on your ass. You gag on the witch's shaft, tears streaming down your face, but she's too far gone in her pleasure to notice, hips snapping faster with each thrust. Natasha's length spreads your cunt almost painfully, the tip of her thick cock pushing against your cervix with each rough thrust.

Your moans send vibrations through Wanda's length, making the young witch cry out, her abs taut with tension, fingers pulling at your hair harshly. She comes down your throat with a loud moan, making you gag on her cum. You pull away, struggling to swallow the load that leaks all over your face and chest.

Natasha's thrusts become erratic as she gets closer to her own release, her fat cock sloshing in your wetness.

"Tasha- ah, please," you gasp, and she flips you on your back, changing the angle.

"Louder, baby," she pants, snapping her hips faster, her fingers leaving bruises on your hips. "I want everyone to know what a cock slut you are." Her dirty words make your head spin, your walls clenching around her thickness, trying to swallow her in.

Wanda throws one led over your stomach, now hovering over you, and pushes your breasts together before thrusting her cock between them. You eagerly open your mouth, welcoming the reddened tip. She whines and mewls as she plays with your breasts, her thumbs stroking your nipples, ready to come again just from the sight below her.

Your legs are spread wider before they're thrown over Nat's shoulders. She presses her palm against the bulge in your belly, making you scream, "Yes! Ah- Nat… Yes, yes, yes- deeper, I need you deeper."

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as she thrusts one last time, releasing a load of cum into your clenching heat. The pressure inside you releases as you're hit by the most powerful orgasm you've ever had. A few seconds later Wanda follows, forcing your jaw open and thrusting the tip of her cock inside. This time you swallow it all.

She falls on the bed beside you, her body glistening with sweat as you both catch your breath. Natasha slowly pulls out, gently massaging your thighs before taking place on your other side.

"We're not done," she whispers against your ear, her palm cupping your pussy. "We're not done until we've used every single one of your holes. And after that we'll go back to the compound, and we'll do it again and again and again."

Wanda nods, grinning wolfishly, and settles over you, her cock on your lower stomach, ready to fulfill Natasha's promise.

You gulp and spread your legs wider, ready to give them everything.

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Kissed by Moonlight (Alucard x Witch! Reader) 2

A/N: Thank you for your patience! I've been very busy with Monstober and have taken time to focus more on this story. Hope you enjoy it!

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Chapter 2

In your dreams, you’re whole again, and the happiest you’ve ever been.

You jolt in a familiar bed, one cold and worn from the years melting away: a bed too small. Yet, it’s not the bed you had when you were under Bogdan’s roof, and it brought forth fond memories.

Your mother was situated by her workbench, humming a soft tune you remembered from your childhood. Standing behind her, you could only watch, observing how she had not aged since that day, and she looked as you remembered.

“You are very hard to communicate with, sweet girl,” your mother spoke, her dark dress swayed in the deadness of the air, keeping her back to you. “Your mind has been elsewhere.”

“I don’t understand how I’m speaking to you,” you wavered, holding a hand hesitantly but pulling away, afraid of touching her again, “you are not here anymore, mama.”

“I and my sisters are in the ancestral plane, my girl,” she continued. “I have always been with you, in mind and spirit.”

You could only choke on a laugh, bitterly replying, tears threatening to spill. “Then I must have failed myself for losing all my powers. I’m not the prophecy you spoke of.”

Your mother turned so you could see her face finally, and a veil covered her face, darkness shrouding her appearance. Despite not being able to see her face, you knew she was smiling.

“Why do you think that?”

 “I cannot do anything,” you held your hands out in front of you, trying to concentrate on anything, flames or cold to reach your fingertips, yet nothing came, “I am hopeless.”

“You are speaking to me through a veil of limbo, are you not?” She questioned and there was sadness in her tone, as if you had disappointed her.

It made you question her words, thoughtfully reflecting on them. “You did not teach me about astral projection—or how to reach the veil of the ancestral plane. I… did not know it existed.”

“It belongs to us,” she sang sweetly, “it has always belonged to us, my Y/N.” She reached towards you and placed a hand on your shoulders, her grasp as cold as death.

“There is one thing that has always made me proud of you, what has made the sisters believe in you,” she spoke, and you felt the chill spread like wildfire through your chest. “You were everything they needed in a witch.”

-

The comfort of dreams and darkness spat you out until you felt exhausted, shuddering back life into you.

Your mind felt as if it was in the middle of a fog, slowly clearing up as your heavy eyes opened and shut with the contrasting brightness. The burning sensation seemed to dwindle from your chest, and you were replaced with the cold that came harshly.

You shivered, groggily taking in the sight of flames that brightened the already dark room. You seemed to be in a reception or lounge, the Corinthia you were laid on was a deep crimson colour, and gold leaf trim took part most of its decoration.

“I see you’re awake.” The same voice cut through the sharpness of the air, startling you to stare at the entrance. Oh, right, your saviour—if you could call him that. You could still remember the blade, as cold as ice, pressed against your neck before you passed out, and you were suddenly very aware that you were alone with this stranger; a stranger with a habit of murder.

“Where am I?” You groaned, clutching your head as you found beside you a glass of water already by the table, gingerly picking it up and debating whether to drink from it. If he wanted you dead, he would’ve killed you by now, and the liquid was already being chugged, cooling and crisp down your throat.

“I’m surprised you didn’t even think twice before you stepped a foot inside these halls,” the dulcet voice sounded both bored and irritated by your mere presence. His silhouette moved like a black cat, sticking closely to the doorway. You heard his voice closer to you this time. “I can’t tell if you’re brave or a fool for coming here.”

It dawned on you finally and slowly that you were still inside Dracula’s castle—that the Vampire king himself owned it. It brought a shudder down your spine, but the curiosity in wanting to know why he was there.

“You don’t seem afraid to be here.” You questioned vigilantly.

“No, I would be if this had not been my home.” The figure finally emerged from the shadows, and you almost squinted at his appearance. The first thing you noticed was his wavy long pale blond hair, reaching past his waist, skin pale as moonglow. It was his eyes that were the most beautiful and eerie: golden as honey or the same colour of leaves that fell in the autumntime.

There was something unnatural about him: not exactly human that you could place, a sombreness that hung over him. You did not know what he had seen in his lifetime, but you could see it in his eyes.   

The handsome stranger was dressed in black leather trousers and boots, a simple shirt that showed some of his chest, and a long drawn scar was visible, grotesquely large and haunting.

It was only when you saw what was floating beside him, a long, thin sword, glinting brightly with silver and ornate beauty as it stood vigilantly by his side.

He seemed to notice quickly your eyes darting between him and the weapon beside him. “Will you put that thing away?”

He did not answer you but the sword pulled back from him to stand by the door as he inched closer towards you, watching you with suspicion. “Who are you?”

The stark contrast of his words was not as soft as they had been before, and with the sword standing in the background, you chose to answer him honestly rather than risk being another body staked outside. “My name is Y/N. I come from a village not far from here—”

“You do not speak the truth.” He snarls, and something glints as he opens his mouth wide enough, but is gone within seconds. The blond’s nose scrunches in almost disgust as if the most revolting stench fell over him “It reeks of sorcery,” there’s something feral in his demeanour and the way the sword flickers to move closer to his side, “witch.”

“Yes, I am a witch,” you reply honestly, eyes darting between the sword and him again, your life dangling on the edge. “Please, I don’t have anywhere else to go—I wouldn’t be here for long if you—”

“I do not have anything for you. Leave at once.” He interrupted tersely, circling you, posture tense as if he was either ready to lunge at you or flee. “I do not welcome strangers.”

No, if the bodies were not a warning already. You gulped. “I have no choice but to leave there. I had to for—” Your words stilled on your tongue, nervously tracing your fingers along your wrist in feeble comfort. “I cannot go back there. They… I fled for my life.”

The blond man doesn’t speak for a moment, instead, he watches in hawkish contemplation, studying you, examining if you are telling the truth. It felt as if you could be set on fire by his gaze alone, and finally, he looked away, eyes taking to the hearth.

“Very well,” he says after some time, “you have one month to stay here. One month, and then you can find your way somewhere new.”

Your heart leapt from your chest, ready to almost jump into his arms with gratitude. You watch as he turns, before saying over his shoulder. “There is a bathroom on the second floor, the last room to the left. You stink.”

There is no time to speak your thanks to him, as he’s gone in a hurry, away from the room you occupy. You don’t go looking for him, following up the winding hallways as you follow his instructions, finding the room after looking for some time.

The bathroom is as splendid as the rest of Dracula’s castle: all marble and gleaming white stones and a bath! You take your time to make sure you’re alone, before finding the way to get water through. It’s utterly incredible to witness true science, how hot water comes through without ever needing to gather it from a source. You laugh to yourself, believing how undeniably insane you look in front of his man, and how you too, would be wary of your presence.

It was obvious by your state when you looked in the mirror: your hair was tangled and difficult to even run your fingers through, with the odd chicken feather poking out. Your skin was riddled in mud and bruises covered your thighs and arms. Your cheek is still sore from when Bogdan smacked you, though it is not as red when you see splatters of red across your clothing.

My God, I look mad. You pluck the feathers as you try detangling your hair with your fingers, before stripping off your clothes as the water grows to a level that is good enough for you to get in. The water almost stings from how hot it is, your skin grows pinkish from the heat as you sigh in relief, submerging your body as the water grows clear to a greyish-brown hue.

Grimacing, you occupy yourself with the shelf of many bottles by your side, picking out shampoos and conditioners as you begin the long process of washing your hair. Your curls hid many secrets, as well as the knots that take forever to untangle until they’re smooth and soft to the touch. You dip your head to lean the suds, scrubbing your entire body with the bar of soap until it's red raw.

Not wishing to get out, the water grows cooler, and you grab a towel for your body and head, wrapping your hair up securely as you gather your dirty clothes. You debate on putting them back on or awkwardly trying to find the man of the castle, opening the door to feel something wedged in front.

You inspect the neatly folded clothes, a dress as seaweed green and looking a decade or two out of fashion, a clean chemise and stockings. You dress quickly in the bathroom, finding the kirtle fits you nicely, and you can feel that the material is good quality – as if it’s not been worn before.

Questions dance in your mind – why does he have dresses? Did they belong to a previous wife?

You kept them to the back of your mind as you let your hair air dry, keeping everything as neat as possible as you wandered back to where you could hope of finding the oddly handsome man.

You checked rooms on the second and ground floor: to no avail, was he around, until you found the kitchen on the ground floor, empty, except for the beautiful smells that wafted through the room. You didn’t realise how hungry you had been, not when the food smelt as amazing as it looked.

“You found the kitchen fine then.” A voice interrupted you.

You turned to find the culprit, the blond man was carrying a basket of apples, passing you as he placed them in the middle of the table. The apples were so large they didn’t look real!

He noticed you staring, looking at you for a moment up and down. “The dress you found I see?”

“Yes,” you gathered the material, feeling its softness, “it is very beautiful. Was it your wife’s?”

You see it for yourself, his pale cheeks erupt into a brightness you’ve never seen before, and he averts his gaze from you. “No, the dress is actually my mother’s.”

“Oh.” You say, awkwardness filling the room as he continues sorting out a meal. “Is fish okay for you?” He asks to break the ice.

You nod, watching as he preps two plates, filled with vegetables you’ve never seen before, as bright as anything that could be harvested. The two of you gather your plates as you go to sit at the table, and you fill your stomach with food before it reaches your eyes. The food is rich in flavour and you almost cry from having something so filling in your life.

Neither of you speak as you eat, and though you wish to keep asking him questions, he is quick to speak. “My name is Alucard.”

You choke almost on your fish, staring wide-eyed at him. “Like The Alucard? The one who defeated Dracula?”

“I do rather not like being used that title, but yes, I defeated Vlad Dracula… my father.”

It suddenly dawns on you: his pale skin and unnatural eye colour, how he moves on a whim and as fast as the wind. There was an ethereal beauty to him that you could not place at first, and you were now certain you weren’t losing your mind when you thought you saw fangs in his mouth.

“Oh.” That is all you can say, and Alucard is quick to scrunch his eyebrows at you incredulously, with a look that reads ‘Oh? Is that all you can say?’

“I’m sorry for your loss.” You finally manage to say, and you think you’ve said the wrong thing, but the look that flashes across Alucard’s face is one that you think he’s not felt before.

“No one has ever said that to me, that they were sorry,” his words are soft, tired from a life of grief. You can understand him, yet you wish for him to warm up to you. You notice his sword is still in the room, floating in the corner like a sleeping soldier, idly waiting for orders to strike. “It feels quite relieving.” It takes you a moment to realise that he’s trying to joke from the solemness of his tone.

The tension is still there, and quickly you notice that his softness is replaced by the cold exterior once again, as he stands from his spot, cleaning the dishes. “If you’re to be staying here as a temporary guest, you should find the bedroom on the first floor to the right is free to use.”

Watching him pass from the room and disappear is enough to make your heart sink, from the loneliness of the castle, and from the pain of having to share it with a living,  broken ghost.

[nestypewriter]

[Yandere! Witch]: My dear! Would you be a doll and fetch me the saliva of a werewolf?

[Familiar Darling]: Of course, sir! (You rush out the door)

5 minutes later

[Familiar Darling]:I'm back! (Holding out a bottle of saliva while IN covered in saliva)

[Yandere! Witch]: Ugh, dear, what happened to you?

[Familiar Darling]: I played with the werewolf( handing out the bottle).

[Yandere! Witch]: Umm..thank you dear (waved his hand, and the saliva covering you disappeared).

[Yandere! Witch]: But still take a bath; the dirty mutt could still track you.

[Familiar darling]: Yes, sir! (Running upstairs)

[Yandere! Witch]: Ahh, yes, it's almost done (starring the boiling pot).

[Yandere! Witch]: Thanks to my darling familiar! , I have now finished making my soul blinding potion (pouring the bottle of werewolf's saliva into the pot)

[Yandere! Witch]: Now I can be with my darling forever! Nothing will tear us apart, even death! HAHAHAHHAH!

With [familiar darling]

HAHAAHAHAHAHA

[Familiar darling]: There he goes again, laughing to himself.

[Familiar darling]: silly master~(shaking their head)

[imaginedanvrs]

atonement

masterlist

camp counselor!wanda x reader

word count: 6k

warnings: homophobia and homophobic slurs, conversion therapy, manipulation, gaslighting, references to drug use, unhealthy power dynamics (so rape), noncon to dubcon, cunnilingus, degrading, fingering, nipple play, size kink, general mean Wanda

a/n: me? posting blasphemous content on Easter Sunday? I would never

It looked harmless enough. You weren’t sure what you had been anticipating, mostly because you had been trying to keep your mind off of the unavoidable destination, but it certainly wasn’t the depressing place you had expected. No, they were smart enough to keep that reality away from the parents that dropped their ‘troubled’ children off. If anything, it looked like the kind of summer camp that a lot of your friends would be enjoying about that time. 

  There wasn’t a church for one thing. In its place was what appeared to be a ranch style house that had kept its traditional family features such as the pair of rocking chairs on the porch and the maintained flowerbed around the borders. On either side of the building, closing in the driveway, were several other intimate buildings that created the impression of a community style living. They were all decorated with various posters about god’s love and acceptance that you guessed you were going to be hearing a lot about during your stay. 

  Your mother got out of the car first as a man who looked like he was still being dressed by his own mum jogged over from the main house to greet you both. You clenched your grip on your bag strap before deciding to face the music and follow her lead, still examining the area sceptically as your mother and the man introduced themselves. Your mother failed to deliver the same excitement the blonde did, but she attempted to force it nonetheless while your hosts laughed easily at something she had said.

  You weren’t listening to either of them as you retrieved your other bag from the boot of the car, not expecting the man to walk around the other side to greet you. “Y/n!” He said like you were an old friend. “I’m Reverend Vision but you can call me Rev Vis.” You most certainly weren’t going to be doing that. “We’re so happy to have you here, let me give you the grand tour of our home,” he beckoned. You trailed behind them.

  “Do you live on site?” Your mother asked.

  “Oh yes, me and the Mrs. We love our work,” he drowned on and began guiding you through the various rooms of the two buildings either side of his house. The more you learnt about the place, the more you began to dread your stay. There were ‘entertainment’ rooms that were filled with musical instruments and religious books and music. A canteen area fueled by the kitchen in which all of the students were to prepare every meal. A prayer room that was deserted at that time. Finally, the dorms. 

  Vision wasted no time in searching through your bags for anything that could “interfere with your journey” and came up empty handed, much to his well hidden disappointment. Your mother didn’t seem to notice it, too focused on the contents that came out of your bag, but you saw the flicker of his brow when he declared you were all good and began explaining the long lists of rules that you had no intention of memorising. 

  “And we do not allow any kind of sexual acts, with yourself or others,” he said lightly. Your mother shifted uncomfortably and you nodded. You had no intention of being caught by him with your hands down your pants when he did his checks during the night. You didn’t anticipate being there long because you were fully prepared to fake your conversion to heterosexuality. How hard could it be? Besides, you dreaded to think how much your parents were paying the capm under the illusion that they could somehow change you. You had to find it humorous, otherwise it would really fucking hurt. 

  It still did when you watched your family car disappear past the camp gates and into the dense tree line. You sighed, resting your head gently against the cool glass of your window and took in the camp in its entirety. It was a waste of beautiful land, you concluded as you examined where the large field met the changing trees. There were a couple guys in the camp uniform playing football on the grass while a cluster of girls sat to the side cheering them on. Apparently you had caught the end of the game, because Vision appeared on the edge of the grass and called them back inside, most likely to prepare for dinner. 

  “Y/n,” a voice behind you called. You spun around at the unexpected caller just as she opened her arms and enveloped you in a tight hug that took you wholly by surprise. 

 “Hi?” You greeted as a question, making the older woman chuckle as she held you before pulling away and keeping her soft hands on your arms as she took you in and allowed you to do the same. Holy fuck she was beautiful. Her striking emerald eyes bore straight through your own and somehow had the ability to make you feel entirely exposed, as though it would be futile to ever conceal anything from her, including your undeniable attraction to her. In contrast, her smile was soft and polite as she gazed at you in a friendly fondness you would with someone you haven't seen in a long time. There was something noticeably comforting in it and the way she carried an entirely put together personar that you wanted a peek beneath. Metaphorically of course… but also literally. 

  “I’m Wanda, Vision’s wife.” Rev Vis was punching way above his weight. This woman’s voice was even hot. Maybe pretending to be straight would be harder than you thought. 

  “Nice to meet you,” you smiled and glanced away awkwardly, finding her impossible to maintain eye contact with. She didn’t seem to care as she hooked her finger under your chin and turned your head to keep your attention on her. 

  “I have every faith you’re going to do so well here, sweetheart,” she told you fondly then dropped her hand and took a respectful step back. Right, gotta leave room for jesus. “Your roommate will be back soon then you too should head down for supper,” she instructed as she headed for the door.

  “Okay,” you nodded and pretended to unpack your bags. 

  “See you later, honey,” she said before disappearing. You exhaled a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding and collapsed onto your bed. 

*

Your first day dragged by painstakingly slowly. Between meals, you attended bible study taught by Vision who gave you his extra attention as it was your first time there. He asked you to compare your own relationship with god to that which he was teaching, expecting an answer in front of all the other students who had been through the same ordeal and spotted your lies as well as Vision did. Apparently everyone did the same when they started at the camp. 

  You had kitchen duty in the morning and garden duty in the afternoon (which was probably the least crap one) before you had to sit down for what felt like hours to listen to Vision sing about god on a guitar he didn’t know how to tune properly. During every interaction you had with him, all you could think about was how he had ended up with a woman like Wanda. Had they been high school sweethearts? Had their parents pushed them together? Did he have some kind of twisted blackmail over her? They were the only three explanations that made any sense to you but you weren’t about to ask any of the other students for their input. 

  As it turned out, your daily routine was also going to include a one on one session with the older woman which should have been something to act as a silver lining in your stay, but it was the most challenging aspect of all. 

  “When did your desire for women begin?” She asked after some small talk.

  “I’m not sure,” you lied in an effort to buy yourself some time to think of a good response. She smiled at you softly.

  “You can lie to me, but you can’t lie to god,” she informed lightly. 

  “A couple years ago,” you replied honestly. This seemed to please her. 

  “And how did it manifest?” She sounded genuinely curious to know, lulling you into being unexpectedly open with her. It wasn’t as though you had anyone else to talk about that stuff with. 

  “There was a girl in my class that I thought was pretty,” you told her as you recalled your first real crush. “I felt more when she smiled at me than I did when I kissed a boy.” Wanda smiled as though she could see the purity of your memory as well as you could. Except to her, it wasn’t so innocent. 

  “The devil likes to work his way into places we could never expect,” she told you and your smile dropped. “Especially when we’re naive,” she added. It sounded as though she didn’t hold anything against you and she wholly believed you had been seduced by the devil himself and that it was impossible for there to be any other explanation. 

  “I was seventeen,” you reasoned. “I wasn’t naive.” Wanda liked the challenge you gave her. That whisper of a promised defiance gave her a thrill she knew to keep a cap unless she was required to use it. She would do anything for her beloved students to guide them back on the right path, especially one that wore the face of morality so well. 

  “And what do you mean by that?” Wanda enquired. 

  “I knew- I know what desire and attraction feel like,” you told her without looking her in those expectant eyes that unknowingly glimmered at your revelation. 

  “Lust,” Wanda said simply. “One of the hardest sins to resist when it affects one so physically.” 

  “Surely it can’t be bad if it’s natural,” you pointed out. That was not the response the brunette wanted to hear.

  “It is not natural,” Wanda said so quickly that she had to take a moment to recollect herself as you looked at her with shock as you took in that momentary crack in her exterior. It was interesting to watch and you wondered why it had hit a nerve. Surely you weren’t the only one to come into her office and state the fact. 

  “Y/n,” she called slowly. “If lust comes to you while you are here, you must come and tell me,” she told you seriously. Yeah, you definitely wouldn’t be doing that. You agreed obediently anyway. 

  “Good,” she smiled again. “Now, is there anyone you currently feel ungodly towards?” 

  “The same girl,” you admitted sheepishly. Yes, you had had a variety of other minor crushes in the past couple years, but she always managed to fill you with that teasing anxiety that never fully manifested when she said hi to you. 

  Wanda raised her brows indiscreetly. “I hope you will soon be able to give that same loyalty to god,” she said. You didn’t give her a response, unsure of what to say when you had no intention of doing such a thing. “In time,” she added when she saw your hesitation. 

  “Maybe,” you muttered, meeting her half way. “Won’t he love me regardless?” You painted the question with an air of innocence that anyone else would have fallen for. But Wanda saw beyond that and knew you used the faux front purely to challenge her again. She was impressed. 

  “Of course,” she told you gently. “Always.”

*

You thought you were being subtle with the way you kept glancing over at the couple. It was breakfast time so there was a general murmur of conversation that you didn’t feel particularly pressed to join in with. All it did was teach you to avoid sitting with the group you had found yourself with again because they seemed to be the only students there who were actively participating in the conversion with the belief it would ‘fix them’. You pitied them in a way, but not enough to interfere with their ramblings about their opposite sex celebrity crushes. 

  Wanda caught your eye on one of the many times you had peered over. Vision was talking to her but apparently she was as distracted from her company as you were, more fixed on returning your gaze. The corner of her lip twitched when you realised you’d been caught and you swiftly looked away to stare down at your cereal, actively keeping your wandering gaze on the other side of the room for the rest of the meal. 

*

“So what did you do to end up here?” A curly haired boy asked as he strolled into the kitchen you occupied alone. He was swinging a tea towel in his hands as he joined you and started on drying the washing up you had started. 

  “Got caught making out with the pastor’s daughter,” you said stoically.

  “You’re fucking with me,” he grinned and your composure cracked. 

  “Yeah, but it’s much cooler than the truth,” you told him honestly as he jumped up onto the counter. 

  “I’m sure it’s not that bad. My grandma walked in on me with my dick down my best friend’s ass,” he told you and you couldn’t stop the laugh that rose promptly. You grinned at the boy next to you in disbelief, thankful that your own luck wasn’t that bad. “Your turn,” he prompted. 

  “I told my best friend that I like girls. She told my parents,” you said humorously, as though it didn’t hurt like a bitch just to remember. 

  “I think I have better mates than you,” he concluded. You didn’t argue with that. “I’m James.”

  “Y/n,” you replied. “How long have you been here?”

  “Four months.”

  “What?” You splashed some water over the floor when your hand slipped in shock and James yelped when some drops hit him then started chuckling at the look you were giving him. 

  “What? Did you think it was only going to last a couple weeks?”

  “Kinda, yeah,” you muttered as you returned your attention to your chore. “Do you think you’ll be out soon?”

  “Nah, they know I’m bullshitting them. We all are, of course, but some of them can trick themselves into believing it, which is good enough for Vision.” 

  “Yeah, I know Wanda sees right through me,” you told him. “Which by the way, that makes no sense right?”

  “I reckon he’s holding her family captive,” James stated simply. You laughed with him easily, glad you had found someone like minded to you. “Hey, do you wanna get high?”

*

The nimble threads at the bottom of your uniformed cardigan were multiplying as your stay at the camp went by. Your fingers frequently found their way to them when you were uncomfortable, which was more often than not, and pulled at the finer threads until you unintentionally collected a small bundle in the palm of your hands that you had to hide. Vision never commented on it, but Wanda did, telling you that it represented your impulse to repress your femininity or some bullshit like that. 

  You left the threads alone and laced your hands together in your lap when she gave you a pointed look from her office chair and you muttered an apology. 

  “I’ve noticed you and James have become quite close,” she commented. “I must admit I was hoping you would find better company in some of the other students here. James doesn’t provide the best example to follow,” she told you. 

  “We’re just friends,” you shrugged, slightly irked that the older woman had a problem with the one refuge you had been able to find in the camp. 

  “Are you friends with anyone else here?” She questioned, not yet providing you the warm smile she offered every time you stepped into her office or saw her in general. She didn’t look happy that day. She looked troubled but you didn’t believe that was solely down to your decision to spend time with James. 

  “Not yet,” you told her even though you weren’t planning on expanding your social circle. Though if it was only two people it must be more of a line. Still, adding that unfulfilled optimism was meant to appease Wanda. You should have expected her to see it for what it really was. 

  “What do you and James talk about?” She wasn’t going to let it go.

  “Our lives, I guess,” you shrugged. 

  “Your experiences,” Wanda said for you. You knew there was no point in denying that when your glance towards her told her all she needed to know. 

  “Sometimes.” 

  “You should only discuss those topics with myself or Vision, otherwise you may end up having those experiences affirmed and encouraged,” she explained pointedly. You nodded uncomfortably as your fingers found their ways to your threads again only to snap back in place when you felt Wanda’s eyes momentarily burn into you. Something was very different with her. “So tell me what you discussed,” she pushed. 

  “I told him how much I dislike kissing boys,” you told her matter of factly as you tried to suppress your rising irritation. Maybe it was her job, but you hated her need to know everything you and James did. 

  “And you want to kiss girls instead?”

  “I want to do a lot of things with them,” you laid on the innocence thick, playing your role as the good christian who was simply admitting to how she had been led astray and just wanted to atone for her sins. As always, Wanda saw through your facade though that time it made her tick. You knew exactly what you were doing, you just had no idea the effect it was having on the older woman. You had no idea that your insistence on pretending to be good while knowing you were bad stirred something in her that she wasn’t supposed to feel. You were pushing those sinful desires that had infiltrated your mind right into her own and she wouldn’t allow it. 

  “That’s all for today,” she declared without giving a response to your statement. It hadn’t even been your full session time, maybe more like half of it. 

  “Okay,” you said slowly as you stood up. 

  “I suggest you spend the rest of your evening with your roommate today,” she told you as you lingered in the doorway. 

  “Right, bye,” you bid awkwardly, frowning to yourself as you walked away.

  The moment the door closed Wanda sighed heavily and leant back in her chair, catching sight of the framed photo of herself and Vision when they went on a hiking holiday in Colorado. The both beamed at the camera as they held each other close, though Wanda’s love for her husband had been as dim as it was in the present. But it was what god wanted. What god certainly didn’t want was for Wanda to allow her mind to wander to you in the way it had during that session when you had been taunting her with that faux naivety that everyone else seemed to fall for. 

  She had such hope for you when she first met you. But the images you had put in her head of her hand disappearing beneath your skirt as her lips clashed with yours, pinning you down to that very couch you perched on, that was something that could not be allowed to flourish, no matter how it made her throb between her legs. Wanda forced herself to stare at her husband’s image and remember when he used to make her feel that way, but those memories of his breathless features beneath her were replaced with your own and suddenly she couldn’t help but ponder what your sweet moans would sound like next to her ear as her fingers dipped inside-

  “Lord help me,” Wanda called, but he never came. 

*

You and Wanda both faced your own new challenges as the weeks went by. For you, your only refuge was gone. James had been sent back home randomly one night after an incident that no one would discuss with you. You had written your numbers on pieces of paper before that night, but it had disappeared as mysteriously as James had and gave you an equally chilling feeling. You had no idea what was going to happen to him when he arrived home without the results he had been sent away to achieve. Would they send him somewhere else? Somewhere worse? The only thing you could do was try not to end up like him. 

  Unfortunately, Wanda knew that nothing had changed within you. You continued to try and fool her with your illusion of innocence, reciting what Vision had taught you, socialising with the committed students and answering her questions in the way she wanted to hear rather than the truth. Little did you know that your efforts to quicken your release from the camp were futile, because Wanda simply didn’t want you gone yet. You were fighting a losing battle, just as she was. 

  As much as she despised to acknowledge it, the brunette fought her own desires as much as you did. It made her hate how much she was drawn to you. It made her ashamed of the acts she envisaged herself performing with you and how she just knew in her heart that you would so willingly part your legs for her. She wasn’t blind to your attraction to her, she had encountered it enough in her career to see it a mile away, no matter how discreet you thought you were being. 

  “I think I’m getting better,” you lied as you peered at Wanda cautiously. 

  “And what makes you say that?” The older woman inquired, humouring your plain fib. 

  “I don’t think about girls,” you said as you willed yourself not to look at Wanda’s long legs that were crossed eloquently. 

  “What do you think about?” You hadn’t been prepared for that. 

  “God?” Wrong. Obviously wrong. Wanda hummed and you knew that meant she didn’t buy it. 

  “Y/n, I want you to start being more honest with me.” You froze and didn’t dare look her in the eye. “I’m aware that you’re not progressing, so I think we should try something new. Just you and me.” You frowned and risked looking up to the confident woman, not having a clue of the excitement that manifested so secretly. “Are you familiar with penance?” You were, yet you had no idea where Wanda was going with it. 

  “There are many different forms. Some fast, some pray, some confess, but as we practise most of that here anyway, I want to try something else,” Wanda explained as she stood up from her chair and sauntered over to the desk in the corner of her office. You heard her rummaging around in the draws as a feeling of unease began to emerge in your chest. Rightfully so, because when Wanda turned back around, she held a riding crop firmly in her grasp. 

  “Stand up,” she instructed and you quickly did so as you eyed the tool in her hands. “Usually you would do this yourself, but I don’t believe you’re capable,” she explained lightly. “Hold out your hand.”

  “Wanda,” you said as you kept your hand glued to your side. “I don’t want to.” Her features were deceivingly gentle as she listened to you. 

  “I don’t want to do this to you either, sweetheart. It’s just the only solution. So hold out your hand,” she repeated, gripping the crop so tight you could hear the leather stretch in her grasp. It unsettled you greatly. 

  “But it will hurt,” you objected, eyes wide. Wanda could have laughed at how oblivious you were to her intentions.

  “It’s meant to,” she said simply and grabbed your wrist with a force that completely paralleled the softness of her tone. 

  “Wanda-” you tried to yank your hand back but you weren’t as strong as the brunette who only had to hold you with one hand while the other brought the crop down hard. 

  You cried out but Wanda used her grip on you to pull you flush against her chest, her features having turned ice cold. Her lips formed a straight line and her eyes pierced through your own with a sharpness that was usually dulled. The next words she uttered were void of that nurturing faith she used with everyone else and were replaced with something much darker. “If you keep struggling I’ll bend you over that desk and whip your ass instead.” You trembled against her, trying to decipher what your best bet was. When you took too long to decide, Wanda reached around and groped your ass, digging the crop in as she did so as though to make sure you knew she was serious. Your breath hitched as you found yourself completely trapped against the woman that squeezed you through your skirt. You whimpered, riling her up more until you nodded. 

  “Good,” Wanda exhaled, calming the heat she was struck with at the sight of your fearful eyes. “With every strike, you’re going to confess something you’ve lied about to me.” There were so many lies to choose from that when the first strike came, you struggled to pick one out. “Confess,” Wanda demanded, all of her patience suddenly absent. 

  “I don’t like boys, I like girls,” you admitted in a rush, refusing to look at Wanda or your burning hand that she struck again. “I’m not doing the work,” you continued. Wanda remained dissatisfied, striking your raw palm again and again as you admitted to your lies, none of which being what Wanda wanted to hear. 

  “I touch myself!” That was what she was looking for. 

  “Look at me,” Wanda instructed, examining the tear streaks down your cheeks as you whimpered. It was clear you were trying to appear strong and indifferent, but it was quickly becoming too much. The older woman cooed at you as dropped the crop to the couch behind you and took a hold of your inflamed hand, rubbing the abused hand with a tenderness that only made it burn more. 

  “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Her smile had grown sinister and you realised you were nowhere near done. “What thoughts do you touch yourself to?” Wanda questioned further, rubbing the most tender areas of your palm. 

  “Lying with a woman,” you hiccuped, hoping the harmless phrasing could somehow ease your next punishment. 

  “Who?” She pushed, gripping your chin roughly and forcing you to look straight ahead at her as you confessed what she already knew. 

  “You,” you whispered. Arousal rushed to the forefront of Wanda’s mind, and with it came anger. You weren't allowed to make her feel the way you did. She had a husband and she was a faithful Christian wife until you showed up and infected her mind with your own illness. You had to be put in your place. 

  In a blur, you were laying flat on the sofa you had lied continuously to Wanda on. You were barely given the chance to react before Wanda hiked her leg over your chest and straddled you with a purely feral look upon her face. You felt a strike of fear hit you, however you also weren’t blind to how attractive Wanda looked in her state of desperation. It may have been a desperation to reclaim control and to punish you for her own feelings, but it was hot nonetheless. 

  “You’ve been tempting me ever since you got here,” she hissed, feeling under her conservative skirt for a moment before she lifted it up around her waist. “This is your fault,” Wanda told you as you soaked in the view of her exposed pussy just inches from your face. You could smell her arousal and when she moved to lower herself onto your awaiting mouth, you eagerly grabbed at the back of her thighs until she slapped you away. “You don’t get to touch me with those filthy fingers, just let me use you.” Although you knew it was terribly wrong, you felt your own cunt heat up at her instructions. You knew that it was fucked up that the married woman wanted to get off on riding your mouth, but you wanted it so bad. 

  “Just like that,” Wanda sighed as you ran your tongue through her wet folds and sucked on them lightly, aiming to savour every drop and inch of her. “Put your tongue out,” she continued to demand. As soon as you did, Wanda began to vigorously grind her clit against your muscle, allowing your tastebuds to become ablaze with her as she cursed above you. You had never heard her swear before and knew she would scold anyone who muttered anything close, so knowing you could elicit such a reaction from her made your insides twist with pride. 

  She didn’t argue when you switched to sucking on her pulsing clit and felt it throb in your mouth. You moaned against her as her movements continued and her thighs locked around her head. It felt as though she really was using you for her own pleasure, not caring about your own or any comfort. You were the shameful bliss she was forbidden to engage with, but it felt incredible to ignore her god and use you as she wished. But she was really disobeying him, she was just teaching you a lesson. It wasn’t really sinning. 

  “Fuck, don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop, you slut!” Wanda cried out as she became engulfed with the sensations you gave her. You had no intention of stopping as you shifted to pushing your tongue inside her. You were met by the tight squeeze of her walls and felt your own clench at the discovery she hadn’t had sex in a while. That explained why she was so sensitive too. Besides yourself, you smirked into the older woman and doubled your efforts. 

  It didn’t take long for Wanda to get close to the bliss she had become stranger to and you weren’t about to let her lose that. She knew her body, even after some time of depriving herself, and told you exactly what to do to get her there. “That’s it, that’s it,” she panted, head swimming as she erratically thrust herself onto her mouth and came with a sharp cry. You moaned against her, adamant on tasting your reward as Wanda trembled on top of you and eventually forced herself off when you didn’t stop. She wasn’t about to let greed overcome her. 

  You looked up at her with a hesitant smile that was apparently the last thing Wanda wanted to see. She glared at you and immediately lifted you up and spun you around so that you were leaning over the armrest on the sofa, not allowing you a second to object. “What-” you tried but she didn’t want to hear it. 

  “We’re not done,” she said without care as she lifted your own skirt over your back and yanked down your soaked underwear. She bit her lip at the sight of the wetness that stained them and threw them over to her desk for safe keeping, definitely not to sniff and use to get off later. 

  “Desperate whore,” she muttered to herself as she ran two fingers through your drenched lips. “You want to get fucked so bad? I’ll show you what it’s like to get fucked.” She let the threat loom over you as dipped her digits into you lightly, barely enough to stimulate you but enough for her to decipher how tight you were. Wanda groaned when she felt you clench in anticipation, desperate for any touch you would give her. At that, she let the remains of her self control slip away and thrust her fingers in at once. “So tight,” she commented as you clung onto the sofa, moaning at the feeling of her filling you up in the way you had dreamed ever since you first met the older woman. 

  “Wanda,” you whined when she spread her fingers out within you to push your walls. 

  “Shut up,” she hissed, refusing to listen to your pathetic pleas on the tip of your tongue. “Take it.” And you did. You bit into the couch to mute yourself as Wanda curled and thrust her fingers inside your wet cunt, mapping out every inch of you and pushing your body’s limits. She added a third finger without any consideration to your stifled whines. 

  Wanda, as she told herself, was only doing it to hurt you and punish you. You deserved it for sinning so openly in her home and for attempting to corrupt her. It wouldn’t work, she convinced herself, she wouldn’t succumb to your lust but she had to show you the right path. She had to make you ache. With that in mind, she added a fourth finger and pumped her fingers in wildly. 

  You cried out into the material you sunk your teeth into, feeling your pussy sting at the stretch Wanda was causing. Still, you continued to soak down to her palm. It just hurt so good. Too good for Wanda to allow, so she snuck her hand under your shirt and bra to take your nipples between her fingers and twist them cruelly. You whimpered at the unnecessary act, making Wanda grin triumphantly. 

  Despite the pain, it did little to distract you from the heat between your legs that was quickly growing out of control. Having stretched you out as much as she pleased, Wanda was able to thrust her fingers inside you without mercy, attacking every sensitive nerve until you became a mess on the sofa she was meant to therapise you on. “You going to cum for me, whore?” Wanda asked when she felt you twitch around her. You mumbled a yes you were lucky she heard. “You’re so pathetic like this, so weak to temptation,” she scolded you with a wicked smile you couldn’t see. “Cum for me.” That was all it took for your muscles to clench tightly around her and let go. You moaned like the whore she saw you as as you came, gripping onto the sofa for dear life as Wanda continued to ruthlessly pump her digits into your cunt. 

  “Too much,” you whined when she failed to stop. She didn’t listen. You came down from one orgasm and soon went tumbling into another when Wadna kept up her actions, making sure to drive her point home. You squirmed under her as your body became overstimulated but there was no room or strength for you to move away. “Please!” You begged as you bucked into her palm, unable to stop the contradicting action that served to amuse Wanda. 

  “So sensitive,” Wanda mused, coaxing you through another orgasm until she deemed that the message had gone through enough. You collapsed in a defeated heap as she stood up from the sofa and corrected her uniform as though you weren’t even there. You missed her taking her tainted digits into her mouth to appease her curiosity. Lord, she thought as she tasted your sweetness. She swiftly pushed away the impulse to keep you down and taste your sweetness directly from the source. She had to keep things professional after all. 

  “See me first thing in the morning,” she instructed, features still flushed with lingering lust. She had given into temptation and whether she liked it or not, she would indulge in you again. You weren’t going home anytime soon.

[romanoffshouse]

Wanda: Name something you believed in as a child that you no longer do as an adult.

Y/N: myself

Wanda:

Natasha:

Natasha: detka, are you okay?

[wandasfavreal]

Getting Closer

Wanda x Fem!Reader

Summary: After finally indulging in a relationship with your stepmom, you found yourself in more situations involving Wanda’s careless behavior such as her secretly fucking you as your father’s in the same room.

Part 1(Make You Mine)

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Stepmom!Wanda x fem!reader, slight non/con, strap on(r receiving), strapwarming, fingers in mouth, RISKYYY sex, angry sex??, daddy issues, and mommy kink bc she’s just sooo, also kinda angsty/fluffy at the end

It’s been a couple weeks since your first time with Wanda. And ever since then, she had become a bit more clingy than expected. Actually more than clingy, just completely obsessed with you.

Almost every night Wanda came to your room, fucking you to relieve herself of both the sexual frustration from you and just the frustration from your father. The two haven’t been getting along at all, only having arguments every day even if they were over little things. Wanda couldn’t even bear sleeping with him, and just used the couch downstairs in the living room as a cover up of where she actually slept, your bed.

Not that you mind though. It was actually one of the best things that happened to you as you didn’t think your father was ever worthy of having such an endearing and beautiful wife like Wanda. She was the only person who actually cared for your well being, truth be told. Unlike your dad, she didn’t dismiss your feelings, always looking out for when you acted unusual and making sure there was something she could do to fix it. Her whole world and worries were about you, only you. Her sweet nature only got to the point where you questioned yourself, if you’d possibly fallen in love with her.

———————-

Around 5pm Wanda called you out to the living room, seemingly planned something. She was sat in the armchair, one of those sofas that would only fit for one. You walked towards her curiously, asking “You called?”

“Yeah, you wanna watch a movie with me?” She replied quickly with a charming smile, the one you grew even weaker for. Glancing at the tv screen, it displayed a familiar movie from the collection of DvDs you grew up watching. You figured it’d be fine to spend some time with her, noticing the need to be close to you she showed too. Though strangely, she had a blanket covering her lap despite the hotter conditioning within the house.

“Um, sure,” You said, moving to sit on her lap as she patted and gestured you to sit there, something that was considered normal as you’ve done it many times before now. However, as you sat down you felt something hard poking your thighs. Your head turned to look back at her questionably, your eyebrows furrowed. “Wanda..?”

In response, she only smirked and moved her hands to your waist, pulling you back to push her front against your body. You let out a small gasp upon feeling her breasts pressed up on your back and as the lead-up happened all so quickly. “I need you really bad today, sweetie.” She said, her voice low in your ear. She moved one hand down to roughly tug down the blanket out and from under you, revealing the toy she hid. It was a large strap on that she had used on you before, though you’ve never taken the whole thing before. The deep red of it was an appealing color to Wanda’s character, and you thoroughly found it arousing to see her with it.

The toy was then in between your thighs, slightly pressed up against your clothed center. “Could you be a dear and help mommy out?” She asked you as her hand squeezed your side, her control already leaving her like always.

You shyly nodded as her soft tone made your head feel cloudy, reaching for the waistband of your shorts and underwear to pull them down once you stood up a bit. Wanda assisted you in doing so, and quickly pulled them down because she just desperately wanted to get straight to the point. She positioned the strap to align with your entrance, already finding you wet. Once the tip was in, she got ahold of your waist again, carefully lowering you down on the big shaft.

“I’ll go slow, don’t worry,” Wanda reassured you. There was small whine that left your mouth as it barely fit and got halfway. She shushed you, rubbing your sides in the hopes that you’d relax more. Still, as she kept pushing you down, tears quickly built up and your hands found their way to Wanda’s thighs under you, squeezing tightly. A loud whimper came out as your breathing also quickened. “I know, I know baby, it’s big. Just breathe in and out.”

You knew Wanda always made sure you were okay before doing something, but she was at times an impatient woman. Ergo, leading to her unexpectedly force you down fully. You yelped and had a tighter grip on her, though not strong enough to hurt her. Your legs kicked a bit helplessly as you were stuck with her inside and buried in you to the brim. Another whine left your throat, “Mommy…”

“It’s okay, I won’t move. I just want you to sit on mommy’s cock for a little while, okay? Just focus on the tv, sweetie,” Wanda responded, her voice sounding sickly sweet. She lifted her hand to your cheek, turning your head to face forward instead of her. Her eyes trailed your body, noticing the hardening nipples showing through the shirt you were wearing. One hand went under the fabric, creeping up to aggressively grope your chest, only making you moan as you began to focus on that instead of the bruising feeling within your cunt.

She kept this up for about half an hour, teasing your body and making you drenched around her cock. As time passed, you grew needier and eager for her to move, but she showed no signs of wanting to. You shifted bit in her lap, biting your inner cheek as the toy hit a spot that made you quietly moan. Wanda of course witnessed the entire thing, not paying a single ounce of her attention on the screen in front of her, only her favorite girl. She smirked at your desperation beginning to show, and only stopped you as her hands tightly held you still. “What did I say? Focus on the movie.”

“But I-“

The sound of the front door alerted you two and stopped you from continuing. Both you and Wanda turned to the direction of it, only to hear the familiar noise of your father barging in. Panicking, you tried to lift yourself up. However, Wanda had other plans as she kept her hold on you, giving you a look of authority to keep you from moving. Despite his unexpected return, Wanda was awfully calm, like she didn’t even care if you’d get caught getting fucked by his wife.

The footsteps were getting closer, making you sweat nervously as you stared between Wanda and where the hallway met the living room.

“Hey, is Wanda here?” Your father asked, seeing your head positioned slightly above the headrest of the armchair once he came into view. Considering the size of the chair and the way it was positioned, you guessed that Wanda wasn’t visible in his perspective. You turned your body a bit and moved your head to where the back of the chair didn’t block your eyes, resting an elbow on the armrest as you looked behind at him.

“I-“ you felt a small yet effective upward movement of Wanda’s hips that caused you to bite your lip hard, causing it to slowly bleed out. Any feeling of her moving inside your sensitive walls made you see stars. Your father looked at you, confused at the sudden pause. Wanda held a smug look on her face as her hands were on your waist, and noticing how you weren’t responding quick enough, she dug her nails into your skin. The action made you surprised and stutter out an answer to him, trying your best to ignore the pain and pleasure that came from the woman underneath you. “S-She’s probably out buying groceries.”

He only responded with a silent nod, no longer looking at you and focusing on searching for something from his pocket. Confused on why he was even home at this time, you asked “What are you doing here anyway? S-Shouldn’t you be at work..?”

Your father still wasn’t looking at you as he patted down his jacket. “Uh yeah I got off work early… but I think I have to go back. I forgot my wallet,”he said, sighing loudly as he didn’t find it anywhere.

“You should probably go then…” you said, a noticeable quiver in your voice. Wanda still kept thrusting gently into you, the entire thing going in and out. You looked down at her face for second which showed a pleasured and teasing look as her eyes zeroed in on how you were taking it. Your lip was also still trapped between your teeth, and you tasted metal off the tip of your tongue.

“Alright, I’ll be back later then. Make sure Wanda starts dinner, I’m starving.”

That last comment made Wanda thrust inside your cunt brutally. A whimper escaped as you immediately put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it hard enough to make her stop. Her face then showed irritation and annoyance, staring off to the side. Luckily your father’s ears seemed to lack hearing, something you noticed as he hadn’t questioned the screaming coming from your room every night at all. He quickly left the house, leaving you stuck on top of his wife who he aggravated.

Out of nowhere, she brought her hands down to your ass, lifting you up from her strap. As you shakily stood, it allowed Wanda to drag you to the longer couch, pushing you down on it so you laid and faced upward. She took the hem of your shirt before pulling it off you in a careless manner.

“God, I’m so fucking sick of him…” she said, her voice deep and raspy as her eyes happened to have darken. Her hand took the toy and positioned it back to your pussy, only this time pushing in swiftly and roughly. You cried out and winced at the feeling of being stretched again, gripping onto the soft cushions underneath you. Wanda set off a fast pace and slammed into you without any remorse.

“W-Wanda slow down- please,” you begged, tears beginning to form once again. Wanda only ignored the plea, holding up your thighs from underneath and pushing them up against your chest to get better access. Your mouth fell open, moans spilling as the pain quickly faded into something pleasurable. You shut your eyes, letting Wanda take all her frustrations out on you now. Your orgasm was soon just seconds away, already built up from warming her cock earlier.

“There you go, cum for mommy,” she said, panting heavily as she continued the forceful thrusts and felt your walls tightening around the strap. Once her words registered, you came and let out noises you didn’t even know were possible out of your mouth. Wanda fucked you through it, letting you ride out your orgasm, but not letting up and making you build up to a second. You cried out again for her to stop, reaching out with one hand to push against her pelvis in attempt.

“Shh… you can take it,” she spoke, smiling sadistically down at you as tears kept falling. You shook your head no repeatedly and vigorously. Your noises and crying didn’t stop either, so to silence it, Wanda took two fingers and shoved them into your already gaping mouth, shutting you up. “Uh huh… so much better when you’re quiet and letting me have my way.”

You whined around her fingers, causing her to only push them deeper and making you gag. Finding it hot, she kept pushing her fingers back in and out, loving the way you choked on her thin yet long digits. It followed a similar pace as her hips, and this time she was pounding you into the couch. “Fuck, you love it when I stuff your holes like this huh? Filled up with all of me?”

Lost in your mind, you now nodded desperately feeling her beginning to hit your g spot over and over again. Drool leaked around Wanda’s fingers and your mouth, following the tears that layered your cheeks. She was feral at the sight of that and it only pushed her to fuck into you deeper and harder. Now coming closer to another orgasm, you whimpered aloud and gripped the wrist of Wanda’s hand that was near your mouth.

Your body shook tremendously once your climax hits you hard, more than the first. Wanda’s fingers left your mouth, a string of saliva following. And her movements continued, but a lot slower thankfully. Still, the overstimulation was overwhelming. “M-Mommy too much, I can’t…” you helplessly said as your voice was shriveled and weak. She had a small upward curve of her lips due to your adorableness from the aftershocks of an orgasm, then soon coming to a halt. She slowly pulled out, watching your pussy leave a mess as it leaked onto the couch.

Fighting the urge to just put her cock back in and fuck you stupid again, she breathed out heavily and took the strap off. Wanda leaned down to give you a kiss, a meaningful one as it lasted longer than most. “You’re so perfect baby… did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.” She whispered against your ear once you sat up slowly and against her chest with her help. It was already sore in different parts of your body, but especially your abused center and bruised thigh. Wanda wiped off the wet spots on your face, softly cradling the back of your head. “You okay?”

“Mhm…” you hummed in response, nodding slowly. She smiled cutely at you, now no longer thinking of anything else. She placed light feather kisses all around your face, causing you to also smile at her adoring aftercare.

“Good,” she said softly as her fingers ran through your hair. Her other arm wrapped around your body, pulling you into her more once she leaned back on the couch. Your head laid peacefully against her within this moment of silence. You then looked up from her neck to see her already looking down at you with a blush on her face along with her eyebrows knitted together forming small wrinkles between. It was like she wanted to tell you something, and knowing her, it was, because she always looked at you with that same expression when she felt vulnerable around you.

“I love you.”

The words that came from her mouth weren’t exactly unanticipated but you were still surprised. Butterflies erupted in your stomach and your face became a darker shade as well, matching the warm cheeks that Wanda had. She looked at you nervously as you took time to respond, not sure if it was too soon after the session.

“I love you too,” you replied, gazing up at her lovingly. She raised her eyebrows in surprise at your response, the overthinking and insecurities preventing her from expecting the answer she wished for. A grin grew on her face once she saw your cute expression. She cupped your face, pulling you into another deep kiss.

“I wish I met you sooner,” she whispered between kisses, thinking about how different it could’ve been without your father in the picture. You smiled, yet inwardly frowned at her words, finding them true as they proved the reality you created in your head false. That maybe you weren’t able to keep whatever this relationship was up in spite of the love you shared.