#10. Trust Your Instincts | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

just-aake · 5 months ago

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A Feline Connection

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha makes a new furry little friend and becomes captivated by its owner along the way.

Warnings: light fluff, light angst

Words: 4270

Natasha shoots upright in her bed, her heart racing and cold sweat clinging to her skin. Her hand instinctively reaches for the knife tucked nearby, gripping it tight as she scans the room, her pulse thundering in her ears.

She’s met with silence. The darkened space of her room at the Compound was empty of any threat. No footsteps, no shadows lurking—just her.

Exhaling shakily, Natasha lowers the blade, pressing her free hand against her eyes, as though she could push away the remnants of the nightmare from her mind.

The memories linger, though. They always do.

A quick glance at the clock tells her it’s 4:00 A.M. Too early for anyone else to be awake.

But for Natasha, this was normal.

Sighing, she swings her legs out of bed, trying not to dwell on how long it had taken to fall asleep in the first place.

Three hours of sleep was better than nothing.

She dresses quickly, pulling on her jogging clothes in automatic, well-practiced movements, intent on escaping the restlessness that always comes with her dreams.

The sky was still dark when she went outside, the first hints of light barely on the horizon, but Natasha set off anyway, her pace swift and determined.

With every stride, the tension in her body begins to ease, her breathing falling into a steady rhythm that mirrored the pounding of her feet against the pavement.

This was her moment of relief—where she could forget, even if just for a while—pushing her body harder, faster, hoping to leave behind the lingering shadows of her past.

After a few miles, Natasha slows to a stop beside a tree, her breath coming in even pants as she stretches out her arms.

The world was still quiet, save for the distant rustling of leaves.

Then, faintly, she hears something.

A soft, distressed sound.

She freezes, tilting her head to listen.

There it is again—a tiny cry coming from somewhere nearby.

From above?

Her gaze lifts upward, and there, high up in the tree, a little black cat clings precariously to a branch, its claws struggling to maintain a grip on the rough bark.

Natasha blinks in surprise, but before she can react to the sight, the cat lets out a desperate yowl and slips.

Moving on instinct, Natasha surges forward and catches the cat just before it hits the ground. She cradles the small creature against her chest securely.

“You’re okay,” she murmurs, her fingers gently checking for any injuries. Its fur is soft and clean—not a stray, then.

Her suspicion is confirmed when she notices the sleek collar around its neck, the gold tag gleaming faintly in the early light.

Natasha tilts the tag to read the name engraved on it.

“Widow?”

An amused smirk tugs at her lips at the irony.

At the sound of its name, the cat looks up at her with wide, inquisitive yellow eyes and lets out a tiny, plaintive meow.

Natasha couldn’t help but chuckle softly, sinking down to sit against the tree with the cat still nestled in her arms.

“What were you doing up there?” she asks, her voice a soft murmur as she scratches behind its ears.

The cat responds with a long, dramatic meow as if offering some elaborate excuse for its predicament.

Natasha smiles softly in amusement before glancing at the tag again, searching for any contact information but finding none.

“Well, you obviously belong to someone,” Natasha muses, lifting the cat to meet its gaze. “They must really trust you to make it back on your own, huh?”

In response, the cat swats playfully at Natasha’s face, its soft paws barely grazing her skin.

Natasha shakes her head with a smile and tries to set the cat down to let it go on its way, but to her surprise, the cat clings to her, its claws digging into the front of her shirt.

“Hey, easy now,” Natasha grumbles, gently trying to pry the cat off, but it stubbornly clings to her, refusing to let go.

“Really? This is the thanks I get for saving you?” she deadpans, raising an eyebrow at the tiny creature.

The cat chirps, blinking up at her innocently before nuzzling against her chin.

“Alright, I surrender,” Natasha sighs, settling back against the tree in resignation, her fingers absentmindedly stroking the cat’s fur.

The warmth of the tiny creature in Natasha’s arms is unexpectedly comforting. Before she realizes it, her eyelids grow heavy, and exhaustion finally pulls her under.

It’s not until a soft movement against her arms stirs her that Natasha blinks awake, momentarily disoriented. As her vision clears, the first thing she sees is your face, watching her from a nearby bench, chin resting casually on your hand.

“You have my cat,” you say, your tone flat but not unkind.

Natasha blinks again, still shaking off the grogginess from the unexpected nap. She glances down to find Widow still nestled in her arms, staring up at her with wide, expectant eyes.

As she processes your words, Natasha loosens her hold and sits up straighter.

Widow hops onto her lap, stretching languidly and letting out a tiny yawn, completely at ease.

“Your cat was stuck in a tree,” Natasha explains, her voice still rough with sleep. “I caught her when she fell.”

You raise an eyebrow, your gaze flicking to the lazily stretching cat.

“You do know they land on their feet, right?”

Natasha opens her mouth to argue but pauses, catching the subtle teasing in your tone. She leans back with a small smirk, deciding to tease you back.

“Widow is kind of a strange name for a cat.”

At her remark, you scoff and cross your arms, leaning back on the bench with a playful glint in your eyes.

“Wow, so you’re a thief and you’re judgy. Maybe next time I won’t be so nice and let you finish your nap.”

“I didn’t steal your cat,” Natasha retorts, unable to suppress the slight curve of her lips, trying and failing to hide her amusement. “She wouldn’t let go of me. Also, you watched me sleep. Isn’t that a little weird?”

You shrug with casual ease and respond with a softened tone.

“You looked like you needed it.”

Your bluntness catches Natasha off guard, leaving her momentarily speechless. She blinks, surprised not only by your remark but by the realization that she hadn’t woken up immediately when you arrived.

The fact that she was able to rest so peacefully with a practical stranger nearby is something she never would’ve thought possible—but here she is.

As the sun rises higher for the start of the day, its gentle light softens the tension between you. It casts a warm glow over everything, including you, and Natasha finds herself at a loss for words at the sight.

After a moment, you stand, calling Widow to your side.

The cat stretches one last time before hopping down from Natasha’s lap and trotting over to you with a playful spring in its step.

As you turn to leave, you glance back at Natasha, a faint smile playing on your lips.

“Maybe find a better spot for naps next time,” you say, giving her a backward wave. “Take care, Miss Black Widow.”

Natasha watches you walk away, something unfamiliar stirring in her chest. She exhales, running a hand through her hair as she tries to shake off the lingering sensation.

“Yeah,” she murmurs softly. “You too.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

A few days later, Natasha returns to her room after another one of her early morning runs, her body drenched in exhaustion from both physical exertion and the sleepless nights filled with nightmares.

She lets out a tired sigh, closing her eyes and shaking her head as if to shake off the haunting memories of the recent dream when a soft scratching sound from her window catches her attention.

Her eyes widen in surprise as she spots the source of the noise. Hurrying over, she opens the window and carefully scoops the black cat perched on the sill into her arms.

“How did you get all the way up here?” Natasha asks curiously.

Widow meows softly in response, twisting in her arms to bat playfully at a stray strand of hair that had fallen across her face.

Natasha huffs in amusement, leaning her head back to keep the hair out of reach.

Her gaze drops to the collar around Widow’s neck, reminding her of the lack of contact information to reach you.

A small smile tugs at her lips as she recalls the memory of you accusing her of being a thief. Now, somehow, your cat has found its way to her again, staring up at her with those innocent, wide eyes.

Natasha taps the top of Widow’s nose lightly in mock scolding.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble with your owner again,” she mutters, half-playful, half-exasperated.

Unbothered by Natasha's words, Widow glances around the room with mild curiosity before letting out a pitiful meow, pawing at Natasha with an urgent expression.

Natasha raises an eyebrow, confused. "Am I supposed to know what that means?"

Her meows grow more insistent, her tiny voice taking on a more desperate tone.

“What do you want? Food?” she asks.

The cat immediately quiets at her suggestion, eyes shining with eager anticipation. Natasha chuckles softly, shaking her head.

“All right, let’s see if we can find you something to eat.”

An hour later, Natasha finds herself in the Compound’s kitchen, waiting for the coffee pot to finish brewing as she reflects on the bizarre morning.

Just as the aroma of fresh coffee begins to fill the room, the elevator doors slide open, and Tony Stark comes strolling in, waving his phone at her.

“Someone explain why the emergency communication system I created is sending messages for cat food.”

Before Natasha can respond, Peter Parker swings in through an open window, landing at the kitchen counter with a large bag of cat food under his arm. He pulls off his Spider-Man mask, flashing a wide grin.

“No worries, Mr. Stark! I saw the message and picked some up on my way,” Peter declares proudly, placing the bag triumphantly on the counter.

“Thanks, Peter,” Natasha says, taking the bag and raising an eyebrow at Tony. “At least someone’s reliable around here.”

“Anytime, Miss Romanoff,” Peter replies, rubbing the back of his neck shyly as he moves toward the sitting area.

Meanwhile, Tony scoffs at her teasing jab, muttering her words mockingly under his breath as he turns to leave. But he freezes mid-stride, pointing toward the couch.

“Uh, what is that?”

Natasha follows his gaze and sees he’s referring to where Wanda is sitting on the sofa, using her powers to create a small red ball of energy for Widow, who is happily pouncing at it.

“Her name is Widow,” Natasha explains as she pours the cat food into a bowl.

“You named a cat after yourself?” Tony snorts, shaking his head. “And people say I’m the narcissist.”

“She’s not mine,” Natasha replies, rolling her eyes as she walks past him toward the sitting area.

“So, you stole it,” Tony deadpans.

“Why is that the first thing that comes to your mind?” Natasha huffs, exasperated, as she sets the bowl on the floor.

At the sight, Widow scampers over, letting out a happy meow before digging into the food.

Natasha smiles softly, scratching the cat’s head as it eats, though her thoughts inevitably drift to you, wondering how she will return your cat to you.

Wanda, who’s been watching the scene with an amused grin, chimes in, “Natasha has a crush on the owner. She keeps thinking about her.”

“Oh, this just got interesting,” Tony says, leaning on the back of a chair with an intrigued smirk. “When did that happen?”

Natasha glares at Wanda before answering, “I met her on one of my runs. We talked. That’s it. Also, what have we said about reading people’s minds?”

Wanda raises her hands in mock surrender.

“I’m not, I swear. Your thoughts are just…really loud, and most are about her.”

Tony chuckles at the revelation, thoroughly entertained. He raises an eyebrow at Natasha, grinning.

“Nat, there are better ways to get someone’s attention than stealing their pet. I could give you some tips if you want.”

Natasha huffs, crossing her arms.

“I don’t need your help, Stark.”

Tony, unbothered by her dismissal, smirks.

“Then why haven’t you contacted her about the cat?”

“I don’t have her contact info,” Natasha admits reluctantly. “I didn’t get her number.”

Peter, who had been quietly watching the exchange, suddenly perks up.

“I have an idea!”

He pulls out his phone from his backpack, snaps a picture of Widow, and begins typing. A moment later, he shows the screen to Natasha.

The post reads: “Cat found at Avengers Compound,” with Widow’s picture attached.

“What’s this?” Tony asks, peering over Peter’s shoulder.

“It’s the ‘Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man’ app,” Peter explains animatedly. “You told me to focus on local stuff as Spider-Man, so I made this app where people can report crimes or activities happening in New York. This way, Miss Romanoff’s crush will see the post and know where to find her cat.”

At his last casual remark, Tony bursts into laughter while Wanda hides her smile behind her hand.

“All right, that’s enough,” Natasha says, scooping up Widow and grabbing the food bowl. “Come on, Widow. Let’s get you some peace and quiet.”

With that, she leaves the room, escaping the playful teasing of the others.

Later that afternoon, Natasha returns to the common room and finds Peter frantically overturning the sofas.

“What are you looking for?” she asks, arms crossed.

Startled, Peter jumps, dropping the sofa back to the ground with a loud thud.

“Please don’t tell Mr. Stark,” he pleads.

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “What did you lose?”

Peter hesitates, then slumps his shoulders in defeat.

“Mr. Stark gave me a USB with the new suit design, and I was going to show him my modifications, but now I can't find it anywhere.”

He starts pacing, clearly panicking, as he continues.

“I thought I put it in my backpack, but it’s gone. If I lost it in the city, Mr. Stark will never let me help with modifications again!”

Natasha steps forward, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, calm down. Tony will understand,” she says, nodding toward the window. “Why don’t you go check your place again? I’ll keep an eye out here.”

Peter takes a deep breath and nods.

“Okay, yeah, I’ll do that. Thanks, Miss Romanoff,” he says before pulling his mask back on and swinging out the window.

Natasha shakes her head with a small smile and resumes her original task—finding Widow, who had somehow slipped out of her room without Natasha noticing.

The little cat was proving to be surprisingly clever and stealthy. It seems you obviously trained her well.

After searching around for a bit, Natasha is about to check with Wanda when a pair of yellow eyes appear from the shadows on one of the black sofas.

Widow stares up at her, completely unbothered.

Chuckling in realization, Natasha sits beside the cat, gently scratching her head.

“You’re pretty good at hiding. I didn’t even realize you were there.”

Widow responds with a bored yawn, stretches her body, and then hops onto Natasha’s lap, curling up contentedly. As her eyes begin to flutter closed, Natasha frowns in realization.

“No, no, you can’t fall asleep on me. I’ve got things to do.”

Widow ignores her, already deep in sleep. When Natasha hears the soft sound of the cat’s snoring, she throws her head back against the sofa in disbelief.

Sighing, Natasha spots a tablet on the nearby table. She carefully reaches for it without disturbing Widow and begins doing some work.

After a moment, the rhythmic purring from the cat brings an unexpected feeling of calm and comfort to her, and before she knows it, Natasha’s eyes start to grow heavy, and she drifts off without realizing it.

She doesn’t know how long she’s been asleep when she wakes up, blinking groggily. As her eyes adjust, she notices a familiar face beside her—you.

For a brief moment, Natasha wonders if she’s still dreaming. Though, she doesn’t usually have dreams this pleasant.

But then your eyes lift from your phone at her movement, and you raise an eyebrow, amused.

“For a hero, you sure take more naps than I expected.”

Natasha blinks away the remnants of sleep, sitting up straighter, and tilts her head at you curiously.

“How did you get in here?”

You gesture casually toward the elevator.

“I came by after seeing the post, and your teammate—Wanda, I believe—she said she recognized me, so she directed me here.”

Resting your arm against the back of the sofa, you lean your head on your hand as your eyes twinkle with amusement.

“I thought I told you to find a better napping spot. This one’s just going to give you neck cramps.”

Natasha’s lips curl into a small smile as she gestures to Widow, still sound asleep on her lap.

“Wasn’t exactly my choice.”

Your gaze drifts down to the cat, and you sigh knowingly.

“Widow, stop pretending and get off her.”

Natasha frowns in confusion at your words and snaps her gaze to the seemingly asleep creature on her lap.

For a second, the cat doesn’t move, but when you call her name again, a little more sternly, the cat’s eyes snap open.

Widow lets out an indignant meow before hopping off Natasha’s lap and licking her paws casually as if nothing happened.

Natasha shakes her head in disbelief.

“What a little liar.”

Groaning softly, she stretches out her stiff muscles and catches you watching her, your gaze lingering for a second too long.

When you realize she’s noticed, your eyes flicker back to your phone.

Natasha smirks, about to tease you, but then you show her the screen of your phone—the post Peter made about Widow.

“I need you to take this down,” you say, your tone serious.

Natasha furrows her brow but nods.

“Sure, I can do that. But why? It looks like she’s a hit with everyone.”

Your smile turns faint as you stand, the lightness in your expression turning somber.

“Not all attention is good attention,” you say cryptically.

Before Natasha can ask what you mean, you grab a pen from the table and reach for her hand. She watches in surprise as you scribble something on her palm. Your touch lingers for a moment, making her feel unexpectedly flustered.

“Here,” you said, finishing. “If Widow finds her way to you again, you’ll know how to reach me. Though, hopefully, you won’t need it too often.”

Natasha glances at the number on her palm, then back at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Am I only allowed to use this for cat-related emergencies?”

You smirk, though there’s a hint of something more serious in your eyes.

“I’m not sure I’m someone you’d want to get involved with.”

Natasha holds your gaze, intrigued.

But the tension is broken when Widow hops back onto the sofa, drawing both of your attention. The cat tries to burrow into the cushions, as if searching for something or determined to get comfortable again.

You sigh, picking her up despite her annoyed yowl. Before leaving, you glance back at Natasha, tilting your head thoughtfully.

“Though… I guess a hello from the Black Widow every now and then wouldn’t be too bad.”

With that, you head to the elevator, disappearing behind its doors.

Natasha looks down at the number on her palm, a small smile playing on her lips. She finds herself hoping that Widow might "accidentally" find her way back to the Compound again soon—if only for another chance to see you.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha didn’t have to wait long for another chance to see you, after all.

Just a few hours after your departure, late at night when the Compound was quiet, Natasha—still unable to sleep—wandered into the common room.

To her surprise, there you were, dressed in dark, stealthy clothes, frozen the moment you noticed her.

Her instincts kick in immediately, and within seconds, Natasha has her weapon drawn, pointing it directly at you.

Yet, you show no sign of panic. Instead, you raise your hands slowly and tilt your head at her with a calm, almost amused expression.

“You really shouldn’t be up this late, you know,” you say lightly, as if this was a casual conversation. “Messes with your sleep schedule.”

Natasha ignores the teasing, her gaze unwavering and her senses on high alert. She didn’t feel any malice from you, but the situation is far too strange to let her guard down.

“How did you get in undetected?” she asks, her voice low, tinged with suspicion.

With deliberate slowness, you gesture with one hand toward the open window behind you.

“That was left unlocked. Pretty reckless for the Avengers.”

Natasha’s frown deepens as she glances at the window, already making a mental note to have Peter redo security training.

“And the alarms?” Natasha asks, her weapon still trained on you.

You shrug casually.

“Let’s just say we have a lot of experience when it comes to not being seen.”

Natasha's eyes narrow at your words. "We?"

You nod toward her feet, and Natasha briefly glances down.

Widow is there, casually walking through her legs and brushing her fur against Natasha with a soft purr, completely at ease.

When her gaze snaps back to you, you gesture toward her weapon.

“Mind putting that away? I’m unarmed. You can check if you like.”

Natasha hesitates, her eyes studying you carefully, looking for any hint of deception.

But there is none.

Reluctantly, she holsters her weapon and steps closer, reaching out to pat you down.

You stand still, hands raised, letting her search you for any hidden weapons or gadgets.

“So, what are you?” Natasha asks, her tone sharp. “A spy?”

“Reformed thief, technically,” you reply with a casual shrug. “I don’t do this sort of thing much anymore.”

You sigh lightly, casting a glance at Widow, who had settled by Natasha’s feet and is now nonchalantly licking her paw.

“She, however, is still struggling to break her old habits.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, glancing at the cat.

“You’re telling me this cat’s a thief?”

You chuckle softly, catching the disbelief in her voice.

“I’m serious. Check my pocket—it’s the reason I’m here.”

Frowning, Natasha reaches into your jacket pocket, her fingers brushing against something small and metallic. She pulls out a USB drive, her eyes widening slightly in realization when she notices the small Spider-Man logo sticker on the side.

“I didn’t realize Widow had swiped it before we left earlier,” you explain, your tone sheepish. “I came back to return it before there’s any trouble.”

“Is that why you wanted the post deleted?” Natasha asks, her suspicion now tinged with curiosity. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”

There is a brief pause as you meet her gaze. Your smile turns slightly rueful at the concern in her voice, and for a moment, something unspoken lingers between you.

“Let me worry about that,” you say softly, your tone more serious than before. Then you lift your hands slightly in surrender, a playful glint returning to your eyes. “So, are you going to arrest me, or am I free to go?”

At that moment, Widow trots over, settling in front of Natasha and meowing softly as if to plead on your behalf.

Natasha crosses her arms, her lips curling slightly in amusement at the sight, though the concern hasn’t left her eyes.

“You two sure know how to double-team a person.”

You chuckle, realizing Natasha’s letting you go, and call your cat’s name. Widow immediately jumps into your arms, curling up comfortably. You look back up at Natasha, your expression softening.

“I told you—you wouldn’t want to get involved with someone like me.”

Natasha’s gaze softens in response.

“Your cat seems to think otherwise.”

You smile at that, gently shifting Widow in your arms.

“She’s got good instincts. A good judge of character, too. So, you must be really special if she’s interested in you.”

For a moment, silence settles between you, broken only by Widow’s soft purring. The tension eases, but something still lingers beneath the surface—an unspoken understanding that there was more to your story, more to you, than you were letting on.

With a small smile, you take Widow’s paw and give Natasha a playful wave.

“You should head to bed soon, Miss Black Widow,” you tease softly, raising an eyebrow. “We wouldn’t want you napping in random spots again.”

As you move toward the window, Natasha steps closer, her voice lowering.

“You know, I don’t mind the visits from Widow. And the two of you don’t have to sneak in or anything. Just…come by whenever.”

You raise an eyebrow, surprised by her offer.

“Are you sure about that?”

Natasha holds your gaze steadily. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

You study her for a moment, then smile—a genuine, appreciative smile that softens the usual teasing banter.

“I’ll think about it,” you say with a playful tone.

With a quick nod, you adjust Widow in your arms and slip through the window with practiced ease. Natasha watches you disappear into the night, her mind spinning with questions and curiosity.

One thing’s certain: this won't be the last time she’d see you and your cat. And to her surprise, she finds herself looking forward to the next time.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: thank you for reading!

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanoff

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canihaveacalmtime · 4 months ago

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Illegitimate child, that's how people always view you, the youngest prince/princess because you didn't inherit the golden hair from the king, your father, like your other siblings.

For over 10 years of existing, dealing with the servants gossip, your family's looks and low living conditions for a royal member, you just decided that maybe it's time to make a change so that you can soon leave this place. Maybe move to a faraway land or another continent to settle down, hoping that you'd never see any of them ever again.

You begin your moves by showing the servants their places, begin treating yourself so that you don't always look dead whenever you go out of your comfort zone, you also start to dress up more good looking so other nobles won't bother you during gatherings or big parties and over all, showing them their position and how they should treat you.

Despite the fact you may be a bit over-do your moves, you treat them back and be nice, you play fair and that's how other nobles begin to reach out to you, reach out to the person they misunderstood and you did gained a few close friends over time.

Your family noticed your changings as they begin trying to open up to you more but whenever you try to reply to their reach outs, your inner self refused. Maybe it's because of those neglected traumas, because they isolated you somewhere far away from the main castle, maybe because everything is just so new to you so you didn't know how to react or because, you just can't and don't want to connect to them again.

After all, you will leave soon, with the money you gained from a few business doings, heading out for a change of life, ripping the royal title off of yourself.

One evening, you were informed by one of the servants that your father wants you in the main castle for a family meeting so you try to wipe the tiredness you're having and attended. Your family told you that you're not an illegitimate child but a blood by blood royal member as for your hair, it was the enemy kingdom doing. To the past you, hearing this would be a huge change but to you now, does that even change anything? Does their apology even worth anything anymore? No, nothing will change.

"No matter what you say, I'll still leave soon. You won't have to deal with the stain of the imperial family no more." As you leave with a light smile, your brother tries to hold you back but you just lightly shove him off and left.

1 week before your leave, your family seems to be bothering you much more than you intended. How your big brother would visit you every hour of the day, how your older sister would being you hand-made desserts and tea that used to be your favorite, how the queen and king would willingly step inside the dirty tower, your deemed home, to convince you to move back into the main palace as you refuse every offer they gave.

That late night, the night you leave, as you are packing up nearly finish, your sister burst into your room without alarming, telling you that your mother has got injured by an assassinate attempt and that the queen needs you by her side. You are debating, you want your freedom now but you may be bad but not a monster so even if inside you screams 'don't go', you gave in and follow your sister to the main palace, maybe if you trust your instincts and turn around to see how your sister smiles at you, maybe you will have a change of choice.

Maybe if you didn't doubt yourself too much, you wouldn't have gotten trapped inside your new room now in the main palace. The mages did a really good job on preventing you from escaping the room, now that you are completely in their hold, they can show you that they can be the family that you deserved.

Stop crying and hurting yourself, they can't stand seeing you in such a state. If you don't, they have no other choice but to using 'restraints' on you and I'm sure, you wouldn't want that to happen.

#calmwrites #yandere #yandere drabble #yandere scenarios #gn reader #platonic #platonic yandere #platonic yandere x reader #platonic relationships #light angst #yandere family #soft yandere

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thedensworld · 9 months ago

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I Can Fight | J.Ww

Pairing: Wonwoo x reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: Since you married Jeon Wonwoo, you always considered to not wear revealing clothes. Honestly, Wonwoo doesn't care.

Maestro is definitely Wonwoo's era. My love from him escalates from hundred to limited🤍 god, i need him in my life. However, enjoy this fluffy fluffy wonuuuu🥰

It hasn't even been a year since you tied the knot with Jeon Wonwoo, the heir to a vast conglomerate. He possesses everything one could desire: a top-tier education, a lucrative career, and a prominent place in society. Yet, despite his wealth and status, he insists that you are the center of his universe. You, a mere lecturer at a university owned by his father, never imagined you'd capture the heart of someone like Wonwoo.

Your paths crossed at an event where you represented the university as its youngest dean. Wonwoo's attention was drawn to you instantly, captivated by the calm grace you exuded. The following morning, you were taken aback to find him at the university, seeking you out.

"I have something to discuss with you," he said, his eyes filled with a mixture of determination and something else, something softer.

As he proposed an internship program to benefit the students, the conversation effortlessly shifted from professional to personal. It became evident that his true motive was to get closer to you, to unravel the layers of your being.

You couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in your heart as Wonwoo confessed his ulterior motive. How could you resist someone who pursued you with such sincerity and charm?

Wonwoo's pride in you knew no bounds. He loved to showcase you to his friends and colleagues, boasting about your intelligence and beauty at every opportunity. Being by his side at elite events was both an honor and a responsibility, one that required the perfect attire to match his prestigious status.

As you surveyed the two gowns laid out before you in the bedroom, the weight of the upcoming event pressed upon you. Your current formal attire had already made its rounds, and you couldn't bear the thought of causing Wonwoo any embarrassment by appearing in the same outfit again.

With a heavy sigh, you reached for your phone, dialing Seungkwan's number without hesitation. He was your trusted friend, the one whose fashion sense you relied on for such occasions. But as you questioned his choices, your finger instinctively pointed towards the more daring of the two gowns—a black off-shoulder number with a thigh-high slit.

"What were you thinking with these options?" you inquired, your voice laced with a mix of frustration and concern. The other gown, a deep red wine hue, was equally alluring, with its backless design and knee-high slit, presenting a different kind of challenge.

"I thought that's what rich people wear to events like that! It's straight out of the pages of those fancy books!" Seungkwan's voice came through the phone, his defense ringing with a hint of sheepishness.

You took a moment to collect yourself, inhaling deeply before responding. "Do you honestly think I usually wear something like these?" You couldn't help but chuckle, the absurdity of the situation washing over you.

Seungkwan's laughter echoed through the phone. "Of course not. Last time you wore something revealing was when you danced to '10 Minute' at Jeonghan's birthday party in college."

A wistful smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you recalled the carefree days of youth. "And I was so drunk that I slit my skirt and cut my sleeves," you added, shaking your head at the memory.

Seungkwan's tone turned more serious. "Just wear it. You won't embarrass your husband by wearing it. Trust me."

You nervously bit your lip, the weight of Seungkwan's words sinking in. "He's a respected person, Seungkwan. And I'm an academic. Last time I wore something tight, someone actually talked about him."

"No way! What did they say?" Seungkwan's curiosity piqued through the phone.

You let out a weary sigh, memories of the unpleasant encounter resurfacing. "Just that I looked too hot for a professor, and my look didn't match Wonwoo. It was awful, really. I wish I could have stood up to them at the time."

Seungkwan's voice came through with conviction, urging you not to let others dictate your choices. "Darling! Don't let them stop you. What if you are actually too hot? It's their fault they couldn't handle your fire! Stand up to them if someone talks to you like that."

A soft laugh escaped your lips at Seungkwan's fierce encouragement. "You know I can't fight," you admitted, resigned to your non-confrontational nature.

Before you could dwell further on the conversation, the sound of the bedroom door being pushed open interrupted your thoughts. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned to see your husband standing there, his presence filling the room with warmth and reassurance.

"Wonwoo just got back from work, I'll let you know my choice. Thanks for getting me these dresses, though," you informed Seungkwan.

Seungkwan hummed in acknowledgment. "Say hi to Wonwoo. I believe he'll choose the black one."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his teasing remark. "Shut up," you retorted playfully before ending the call.

As Wonwoo entered the room, his presence instantly filled the space with comfort and affection. His tie was discarded, and he loosened his blazer before casting a glance at the dresses laid out on the bed.

"Seungkwan got me these for tonight," you explained, gesturing towards the gowns. Wonwoo nodded in understanding as he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"He has great taste," he murmured softly, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

A tender smile graced your lips as he pulled you closer, his embrace providing solace and reassurance. "You'll look good in everything," he added, his words washing over you like a comforting embrace.

You gently touched his arms, leaning into his embrace. "But don't you think they'll be too revealing? I could just wear the one I've already used."

Wonwoo shook his head, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "If you want to wear these, then wear them. I think you'll look absolutely gorgeous, whether in revealing clothes or not."

A surge of warmth flooded your chest at his words, his unwavering support comforting you. "However, I would love to see you in them," he added, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, turning your head to meet his gaze. "Really?"

Wonwoo nodded, his expression earnest. "Let's show them that you're hot, just like what Seungkwan said."

Your astonishment grew as you realized he had overheard your conversation with Seungkwan. "From which part did you hear us?" you asked curiously.

"From the start. I actually wanted to surprise you, but you were talking to him," Wonwoo confessed with a sheepish smile.

A moment of silence passed between you before he spoke again. "Actually, I want to thank him for getting you these dresses. I can't wait to see you wear it," he added, his excitement evident in his voice.

He gently withdrew his arms from your waist, turning your body to face him. His hands tenderly moved from your hair to your face, cupping your cheeks and stroking them softly. "I'd love to see you in the black one tonight," he murmured, his voice filled with affection as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

A warmth spread through you at his touch and words, reassurance flooding your senses. "Your friend knows me so well," he remarked, planting another kiss on your forehead before trailing down to your shoulder.

His gestures of love and appreciation enveloped you, melting away any lingering doubts or insecurities.

***

You approached Wonwoo where he sat on the couch in the living room, a hint of uncertainty in your gaze. "Isn't it too revealing?" you asked, your voice tinged with self-doubt.

His breath caught in his throat as he took in your breathtaking appearance. The black dress hugged your curves in all the right places, accentuating your beauty in a way that left him speechless. The subtle yet alluring makeup only enhanced your features, drawing his eyes irresistibly to you. And the scent of your perfume, a familiar fragrance that never failed to captivate him, enveloped him in a heady mix of calm and desire.

As your hand moved to cover the revealed thigh, a part of you that he found utterly captivating, Wonwoo couldn't tear his gaze away from you. His heart raced with a jealous fervor, envying his own eyes for having the privilege of beholding your radiance.

"Is it not working?" you questioned, disappointment evident in your tone as he remained silent.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Wonwoo reached out to gently grasp your hand, pulling it away from your thigh. "No, it's not that," he finally managed to say, his voice filled with reverence and admiration. "You look absolutely stunning, beyond words."

Wonwoo sensed your apprehension and immediately shook his head, stepping forward to take your hand and press a tender kiss to it. "I can't believe I'm married to you. You look amazing, love," he murmured, lifting your hand and encouraging you to spin to showcase your dress.

As you twirled, a hint of uncertainty lingered in your mind, but Wonwoo's gasp of awe and promise to buy you countless dresses like the one you wore washed away your worries.

"You can wear anything you want, love. I can fight.," he declared, his words echoing your own inner resolve.

A smile graced your lips as you leaned in to peck his cheek, feeling reassured by his unwavering support. "I'll fight them with my whole life. But kiss me again, here and now," he requested, tapping his lips playfully.

You obliged, landing another gentle kiss, but before you could pull away, Wonwoo's grip on your head tightened, deepening the kiss into a passionate embrace. Lost in the moment, your hands instinctively found their way to his neck, reveling in the intimacy of the kiss that ignited a fiery passion between you.

"Should we skip the event?" he suggested with a mischievous smirk, tempting you with the idea of spending the evening wrapped up in each other's arms.

You playfully slapped his chest, chuckling at his suggestion. "Let's wipe your lips and let me fix my makeup. Seungcheol is going to kill you if we skip his birthday party," you reminded him, handing him a wet wipe.

Wonwoo chuckled as he wiped his mouth clean of your lipstick. "He loves me, he won't kill me," he mumbled before turning his gaze back to you. "So, what do you think?" he asked, anticipation dancing in his eyes as he awaited your response.

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ghostlyferrettarot · 1 month ago

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🎀Pick a Picture:✧˚.🎀༘⋆A glimpse into your near future✧˚.🎀༘⋆

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

🌸If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!🌸

🎀Masterlist🎀

🍎 Pile 1: The Chariot, 6 of Wands and 8 of Wands.

Hi pile 1! The near future is full of movement, and once you take the reins of your destiny, there will be no turning back. I see your energy coming into contact with new ones, for some reason I feel that some of you will receive a promotion or a manifestation that you have long awaited will come true, but it is not just about waiting for things to happen; it is about making decisions with confidence, about putting your energy in motion towards a goal that has been waiting for you. You may be tempted to stay where you are, to wait for one more sign, but this is the push you needed, the time is now.

However, remember balance. Don't be carried away by impulsiveness; keep your emotions in check to not fall into the temptation of acting only on instinct. The success that awaits you will be achieved only if you have control over yourself and over the circumstances. You have the inner strength to move forward, you just need to trust in your ability to guide you. The energy is in your favor, but discipline is essential!

🍎 Advice: If you have been in doubt about a project or an important decision, this is the time to move forward with your ideas. You have the power to move forward, but make sure you are clear about your goal.

🍎Song:

��Pile 2: Death, 4 of Cups and 2 of Pentacles.

Hi pile 2! The near future brings a cycle of closure, of necessary closure that will make room for something much bigger. You are likely leaving behind a phase of your life that no longer serves you, whether in relationships, work, or limiting beliefs. This change may seem painful or scary at first, but it is a necessity for your evolution.

Embrace this process without fear, "only when something dies, can it be reborn" . The changes that are to come can transform your life in ways that you cannot imagine right now. Perhaps not everything will be easy, but what is to come will be much more aligned with what your soul needs. It will take you to the place you need to be and you will meet the right people for you <3

🩷 Advice: Don't hold on to what is happening. Although the closing of this cycle may feel uncertain, remember that the future has something much brighter for you. Open your mind and heart to the new.

🩷Song:

📘Pile 3: The Sun, 9 of Cups and 10 of Pentacles.

Hi pile 3! I see a future full of optimism, joy and clarity. If lately you have been feeling that things were not moving forward or that something was blocking you, the Sun is here to show that the shadows will not last forever. Something wonderful is about to arrive, and all you need to do is allow the light to enter your life. This is a time of rebirth, of starting over with a new perspective, allow yourself to welcome good changes and new starts!

To make this process faster there are past wounds, resentments or doubts that could be blocking this light from shining completely in your life. The future is waiting for you with open arms, but to welcome the new, you need to let go of the old. Only when you do, you will be able to welcome the clarity and happiness that is to come.

📘 Advice: Enjoy the small moments and stop being afraid of happiness. You are about to experience a rebirth. Believe in your power to create a new life. The light is coming.

📘Song:

✧˚.🎀༘⋆Thanks for reading and let me know if it resonated!✧˚.🎀༘⋆

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mechdyke-after-hours · 4 months ago

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HEAD MEDIC

a ficlet for @cyberrose2001 and @azu-recentbrainrot . this is for u guys. U both infected me with him. I'm gonna sue. >:(

Ratchet/Human!Reader cunnilingus

painfully soft and fluffy compared to my usual writing. mostly just him eating you out until you fall asleep. mech was HUNGRY.

word count: 1,103

Ratchet was a bit of a hardass most of the time, and most people wouldn't deny that. But good god, he was incredible in bed. You'd heard stories about his party ambulance days, even seen photo and video evidence at some point much to your (very aroused) delight. Sure he was a little older and more battle hardened now, but he retained the passion. Not to mention… the battle scars only added to the appeal.

You spent more time than not at the autobot base. The other mechs had become more than accustomed to you at this point, and you'd even consider them all some of your closest friends. But, even though you loved them to pieces, your favourite time was when they were out on missions, or patrol.

It usually took no more than 10 minutes for Ratchet to start gently running his practiced servos over your form, and no more than 15 minutes for his mouth to be on you.

Today was one of those days.

His servos wrapped around your waist, slowly sliding up to caress your chest softly, squeezing the plush flesh softly. You immediately lean into his touches with an affectionate hum.

“Touchy already? It's been less than 5 minutes, you're so impatient…” You turn around so you can glance up into his optics. His usually bright, kind eyes have darkened ever so slightly and he has what can only be described as a cocky smirk on his face.

“I've been waiting cycles to have you all to myself again…” He mumbled, gently lifting you into his arms. Despite having mass displaced, he was still around three feet taller than you. He pressed kisses to your neck as he walked you to his berth, biting your shoulder gently, his dentae leaving a small red mark. You gasp in surprise, biting your lip to hold back a more embarrassing noise. He lets out a soft laugh “Primus… you're so soft and small… and so fragging sensitive.”

The medic laid you on the lightly padded berth, his servos trailing over your body with practiced delicacy. If there was one Cybertronian to trust with your squishy human form, it was Ratchet. Digits pulled at your clothes, fabric being pulled off with surprising urgency. He wanted you, and he wanted you now.

Your underwear were pulled off quickly, the damp fabric gently held between two digits before he slipped it into his subspace with a grin. You couldn't help but blush, and you felt yourself get wetter.

Ratchet's servos gently pushed your thighs apart, a digit trailing up your slick folds to gently ghost over your clit. He used two digits to spread you open, examining the glistening threads with a hum. “Dirty thing… you're absolutely soaked…” He held up his digits, spreading them apart. Strings of fluids practically dripped down his fingers onto the berth below. “and here you were calling me impatient?” He tutted disapprovingly, reaching up to slide his digits between your lips and into your mouth. You let out a shocked gasp, the slightly sweet, bitter and salty taste of your own fluids mixing with the sharp metallic taste of his plating on your tongue.

Ratchet's digits slipped out from your mouth, reaching back between your legs to rub your own saliva against you, before he leaned down to drag his glossa up your folds. Your back arched, one of your hands clasping over your mouth instinctively. His servos wrapped around your thighs, pulling you as close as possible. He moved his glossa against you like your slick was the finest energon.

Your legs clamp around his helm, and he growls. “That's it sweetspark… you taste so good…” His optics flicker as you meet his gaze, and you can feel him smiling against you. His glossa flicks against your clit, and you yelp. He chuckles again, one servo gently kneading your thigh as the other slides up higher. One large metal digit gently teases your opening, slowly inching its way inside. His glossa lapping against your clit the whole time.

His fingers are massive. Even in his mass displaced frame, his servos easily cover your entire abdomen. One of his digits feels like it could easily be the size of two of your own. The stretch isn't painful, but by god is it a stretch. His digit pumps slowly, but skillfully. He hits every spot inside of you with a surgical and practiced precision. You wouldn't be surprised if he mapped out all your sweet spots and kept a guide in his memory bank for times just like this. Which, to be honest, is a very Ratchet thing to do. He was a master of bringing you to your peak almost embarrassingly quickly. The way he looked up at you with that fucking look in his optics was not helping.

Your lower stomach twists, your thigh muscles clenching and twitching. You squeeze your legs around his helm tighter, and you can feel yourself clenching around his digit. You're so close. So painfully close. “H-hah… Ratchet…” You can barely recognise your own voice with how desperate you sound, and he chuckles softly.

“There, there sweet thing… you're taking my digit so well…” He mumbles, curling his finger up just right. His thrusts increase in speed, hitting your g-spot with each movement. His free servo moves up to your abdomen, pressing down slightly in a way that makes your eyes roll back. His engine purrs. “That's right… overload on my glossa for me sweetspark…”

You do just that.

With an embarrassingly loud cry of his name, your thighs wrap around his helm even tighter, to the point you're almost definitely bruised. You grind against his intake entirely unconsciously. He groans as he works you through your orgasm, relishing in the taste of your orgasm against his glossa. Your breathing slowly returns to normal as you relax your legs, trembling slightly. “F-fucking hell…” You curse, pushing the hair out of your face.

He chuckled again, pressing a quick kiss to your slightly overstimulated clit before he pulled away. His derma glistened with a mix of oral lubricants and your own fluids. “Good job, sweetspark. You're always so good for me.” He moved up to lay next to you, pulling you close to his chassis. His engine rumbled softly as he gently petted your hair, rather affectionately.

You were half asleep by the time he slowly stood up from the berth. He planted a gentle kiss on your forehead, mumbling something that you couldn't quite hear, before he headed off back to the main room, leaving you to nap peacefully.

#tulip's writing #valveplug #transformers #transformers prime #tfp #ratchet #ratchet x reader #transformers x reader #valveplug x reader

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jasminumdew · 4 months ago

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Sylus (werewolf)

Notes: I loveee primal play, it was so fun writing this. I actually finished this about 10 days ago, but a big typhoon went through my place and cut out all power, water, and Internet for a few days, I decided to wait until there was Wi-Fi connection, didn’t think it would be this long. But everything’s fine now, hope you guys enjoy this ^^

Warnings: MDNI, he says “kitten” 3-4 times, pure smut, primal play, chasing through the wood, squirting x2, oral (fem received), piv, knotting, overstimulated

Wc: 1,7k

Event host: @nanamiscocksleeve

Summary: Being in a relationship with a werewolf comes with indulging in his instinct to hunt, and you’re more than happy to being his prey. With this being your first time in this scene, you and Sylus have planned out everything beforehand, he insisted on making sure you’re comfortable and won’t get hurt. It’s simple. You run and he chases after, then when he catches you, you need to act as if you don’t know him, and just unfortunately bump into a werewolf and fight back when that monster tries to mate with you. Sounds hot and easy enough. Ready? Run!

You’re out of breath. Barely a few minutes in this cat and mouse game and you’re already exhausted. You curse under your breath how you should’ve exercised more often for this. But how common it is to be chased in the wood by a werewolf? Your legs were screaming for a break for 10 minutes now. Or was it more? You don’t have any concept of time now, being alone in the dark cold wood, surrounded by darkness and relying solely on the faint light from the moon.

You can hear hardly hear anything besides the sounds of your heavy breath, your legs thumping on the dry grass, and the occasional howl of the beast chasing after you. You don’t know if he is still watching you in the shadow or that you’ve successfully cut your track. But the chances are thin, werewolf are famous for their extraordinary hearing and smelling ability. There’s no way you’ll be able to escape this wood without his canine mark deep into your flesh. Running away from him seems like a really bad idea now that you’re realizing it. Making yourself a small and easy prey to the mighty predator, who gets off on the high adrenaline of this little chasing game. It’s not like you can go back and make a different choice. So you run fast, completely oblivious to where you’re heading to, playing the dangerous game with no way out.

No matter how carefully you planned things out, it still didn’t prepare you for how intense it actually is, deep in the wood with no flashlight in hand, eyes hardly adjusted when everywhere looks just the same. Sylus knows this place in the back of his hand, you know he won’t let anything bad happen and you can trust him with your life, but your heart still beating like a drum, loud and clear in your ears.

Your whole body was burning, demanding for a rest. You hide yourself low, under the thick bush near an old white oak tree. You press your hands on the chest, forcing yourself to keep your breathing and heartbeat to quiet down. You heard an echo caw of a crow nearby, other than those, it’s all too quiet. Strangely so. You peak your head to watch out for any sign that he’s approach closer. Then you hear it, the sounds of a huge beast searching for its sweet prey, too big to hide his presence. You know for a fact that you can only hear him if he chooses to let you, you’re completely in his control. He doesn’t rush, just slowly goes through the surrounding, playing a little mind game with his prey, making her always on guard and overstimulated by fear.

The sudden grunting from behind your neck sends chill down your spine. Your body’s complete frozen, as if you think if you don’t move and keep your breathing even, you’ll disappear from his vision. But you understand it’s the only chance you get before being his meal tonight. Your legs quickly move but to no avail, you couldn’t even run away a few steps before being pushed to the ground on your back, making you yelp from pain. Under the moonlight, a massive wolf lays itself on top of you, heavy weight knocks the remaining air out of your lungs.

His red eyes staring deep into yours, it reminds you of the fresh color of blood, and you, being the center of those, will soon be swallowed whole by it. What looks like a huge wolf shifts into a more human-like one, returning to a hairless body, still bigger than any man you’ve encountered, with his hair the same shade as the pale moon that’s now shining down on his silhouette. Your cheeks and ears turn bright red, observing his naked body, prominent abs and full muscles. Focus focus focus. You chant in your head like casting some kind of spell. You try your best to fight back, pushing his jaw away from your face, biting his hand, kicking him, only to get laugh at. “Come on, struggle a little more for me, kitten”. His deep voice sends a wave of arousal deep to your core, scratches an itch deep down inside you that you tried to hide. “Shut up” you snap, your legs pull to your chest, kicking his belly with your whole strength. His hands grab your ankles with ease, letting your thighs rest on his broad shoulders. Then before you have the time to react, he pushes up your top to your wrists, tying your poor shirt like a bow to keep you from squirming. “There, all nice and pretty. Wrapped like a present for me huh?”, he smirks, kissing your inner thighs through your leggings.

“Let me go you disgusting pervert!”

He doesn’t faze by your words, but instead, his hands find their way to your waistband, pulling it down to your ankles. He hums in amusement with a clear view of your core soaking wet, your pretty clit clenching as if begging for some friction. “Are you sure I’m the pervert here, sweetheart?” he teases, before kissing his way down from your belly, to your inner thighs, then he dives right in, devouring you without mercy. He’s such a messy eater, slurping and sucking on your bundle of nerves so eagerly like he’s gone for days without anything in his stomach. You cry out the sweetest moans, can’t move away from his tongue abusing your sensitive bud, his hands have your thighs in a dead grip, refusing to let go even when you’re twitching and sniffling. You cum hard in his mouth, squirting like a small fountain and he slurps it all in with a satisfying hum.

You let out a shaky breath when his mouth finally left your pussy, drenching in the mixture of your shared fluids. But the relief doesn’t stay for long when you notice his rock-hard cock in his hand, the tip has an angry red shade and his knot swells uncomfortably, waiting to be buried deep inside your wall. He pushes through your first ring with a throaty grunt. You’re always tighter after your first orgasm. Sucking on your neck right on top of his mating bite mark, his cock touches all sweet spots of yours, making you squeeze down on him unconsciously. His red eyes never leave yours, capturing your every expression, every gasp and moan, how your soul seems to be sucked out of your body every time his tip brushes through her cervix.

Your wetness makes it all too easy for his knot to slip in than usual, but he still feeds his knot to you slowly to let you adjust to his size. Your cunt’s so overstimulated with his knot keeps pushing in and out, brushing through your small beans. “Please...” you cry out, wishing your hands were untied so you can reach down and rub it until you reach your peak.

“Hmm? What’s that?” he asks, not even bothering to mask the smugness in his voice.

“Touch me” you plead, gasping for air when he grinds on it more. He turns his head, looking clueless, “But I am touching you, darling? Be more specific and I might give it to you”

Ughh you want to slap his face so badly. He knows what you want and chooses to be mean about it when you crave him so much. His touch feels so good, the only thing you need now is to cum on his thick, veiny cock and squeezing his knot until he burst inside you.

“I need you to rub my clit, I want to cum so bad, please please please I beg you” you whine, clenching down on him oh so sweetly to make him pleased. “Good girl” he chuckles, massaging your sweet spot with his thumb, you whine in pleasure, arching your back. Taking all of his knot, he bites down on your neck, grinding into your G-spot so hard you can see stars. His grinding turns sloppy, he kisses you when you cum together, and that to you was the most heavenly feeling ever.

When you can catch your breath, his thumb moves again, drawing tight circles around your poor clit. “No, please, I can’t anymore” you cry out. He coos, “Yes you can, give me one more, kitten”. His tongue swirls around your nipple before sucking it in, playing with the other with his free hand. A tight knot unravels too fast, you didn’t get to warn him before squirting again, making a mess on his abdomen and thighs. You can feel him twitching inside, the warm fluid paints your wall white again.

He rolls over, careful not to hurt you with his knot, and lets you lie on top of him. He frees your hands from your now creasy shirt and strokes your cheek. “How was it?”. You rest your head on his shoulder, answer sleepily. “I really enjoyed it. Though my legs probably won’t be able to move tomorrow after all those running…and banging” you giggle, breathing in your mate’s scent. Then, suddenly remember something, your head jerks up. “Did you use Mephisto to cheat, Sy? I heard a crow with a very annoying voice, guess you’re not that good at hunting”.

He pinches your cheek, “Are you underestimating my ability? I don’t need assistance when your sweet scent leads me straight to your hiding place”. You yelp, holding your sore cheek and glaring at him. “That’s not fair. I’ll rub all kinds of smells on me next time so you’ll be distracted and I can win for once”. His answer makes your body tingle. “That won’t work because I can recognize my mate’s scent no matter what. Besides, you love it when I win, don’t you kitten?”

You huff in annoyance, hiding your grin in his chest. It won’t be long until his cock starts twitching again, better rest while you can, you have a long long night ahead.

#ncs monster mash #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanfiction #lnds sylus #lnds fanfic #lnds smut #sylus smut #sylus x reader #lads sylus

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mistytarot0919 · 6 months ago

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⏰⏳🕒How to predict timing with tarot cards?

Please REBLOG if you find this information useful! ༄˖°🪐.ೃ࿔*

While Tarot cards can provide insights and guidance on a situation, predicting precise timing can be difficult as the Tarot operates on a more intuitive and spiritual level rather than a literal timeframe.

It's important to remember that Tarot readings are meant to provide guidance, not concrete predictions. Trust in the process and allow the messages from the cards to unfold in their own time.

If timing is a crucial aspect of your question, consider seeking additional clarification from the cards or a professional Tarot reader.

Traditional tarot timing correspondences

WANDS - rapid action(hours to days), noon and spring

SWORDS - quick but not as fast as wands(days to weeks), morning and spring

CUPS - somehow slow( weeks to months), evening and autumn

PENTACLES - the slowest of all(months to years), midnight and winter

Note: If you want me to create a deck regarding timing feel free to send me an ask!

you can do it in a calendar spread and look for the first card that is the most representative(THE LOVERS, 2 OF CUPS, 9 OF CUPS - wish card, any of THE KNIGHTS, ACE OF CUPS) - in case if you wonder if a relationship will appear in future

the first card will represent the current month when is possible for the relationship to start/appear

if 2 of Cups is the 5th card - a relationship will appear in 5 months from now

you can also look at what sign the card represents and the relationship can start in that sign period

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Answer to “When?’’ Question According to Major Arcana Tarot Cards

The Fool - When you make a leap of faith, spontaneously

The Magician - When you are ready to manifest it, quickly

High Priestess - You already know when, trust your instinct, night, a new moon; Unrevealed

The Empress - When factors align, 9 months

The Lovers - When you make a decision

The Chariot - Fast moving card / When you are determined

Strength - When you believe in yourself

The Hermit - Slow moving card/ After a period of self reflection/solitude

Wheel of fortune - When the divine timing is ready, anytime & without notice, soon

Hanged Man - Stagnant, this situation will require your patience. When you change your perspective or surrender and accept, undetermined

Temperance - Things may happen slowly. Patience and moderation

The Tower - Suddenly, unexpectedly, abruptly, immediately

The Sun - Summer, a year

The Star - When you believe

The Moon - A month

Judgement - Winter, stormy weather

The World - When the divine timing is ready, slowly

Lots of lower numbers - long time

8, 9, 10 cards - rapid conclusion

Using the numbers of the minor arcana it can be an indicator of when an approaching event may be likely to happen. By using a simple mathematical formula, we can arrive at a projection.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟnumber + suit = timing

For example, if the outcome card is the 2 of Wands, we could deduce the following: 2 + days = 2 days

This may suggest the event may happen in two days, or that it will last for two days.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Asking the right question & Reading the cards first:

By focusing on more specific questions and considering the potential story or sequence of events, you can gain deeper insights into the situation.

When encountering multiple reversed or negative cards, it could indicate obstacles or challenges that need to be addressed before progress can be made. It's all about understanding the nuances and layers within each reading to uncover the underlying messages and guidance.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Minor Arcana Timing Methods - Season Method

Each suit in Tarot is indeed associated with one of the four elements, which in turn correlates to one of the four seasons:

Wands (Fire): Associated with the element of Fire, symbolizing passion, energy, and creativity. This suit corresponds to the season of Spring, where growth and new beginnings are prevalent.

Cups (Water): Representing the element of Water, Cups signify emotions, intuition, and relationships. This suit is connected to the season of Summer, reflecting nurturing and deeper emotional connections.

Swords (Air): Aligned with the element of Air, Swords signify intellect, communication, and mental clarity. This suit is linked to the season of Autumn, where critical thinking and decision-making are emphasized.

Pentacles (Earth): Tied to the element of Earth, Pentacles represent material aspects, stability, and abundance. This suit correlates with the season of Winter, symbolizing practicality, grounding, and financial matters.

The number method in tarot can provide additional insights into timing within a reading.

By considering the numbers on the cards drawn, you can make predictions about when an event may occur.

For instance, if you draw the Six of Wands and the Six of Cups in response to a question like "When will I find love?" the presence of the number six in both cards could indicate a time frame ranging from 6 days up to 6 months for the event to unfold.

This method adds a layer of specificity and helps in understanding the potential timing of future events based on the cards drawn.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Major Arcana Timing Methods: Zodiac Sign Method

Astrological correspondences can also be used to predict timing in tarot readings, particularly with Major Arcana cards. Each Major Arcana card is associated with a specific astrological sign or planet, providing insights into timing and potential events.

By understanding the astrological correspondences of the Major Arcana cards drawn in a reading, you can gain insights into the timing and potential influences of celestial energies on the situation at hand.

The Fool: Aquarius (January 20-February 18)

The Magician: Gemini (May 21- June 20)

The High Priestess: Cancer (June 21-July 20)

The Empress: Taurus (April 21-May 20)

The Emperor: Aries (March 21-April 20)

The Hierophant: Taurus (April 21-May 20)

The Lovers: Gemini (May 21-June 20)

The Chariot: Cancer (June 21-July 20)

The Strength: Leo (July 21- August 20)

The Hermit: Virgo (August 21- September 20)

The Wheel of Fortune: Four fixed signs (Taurus, Leo, Scorpio, Aquarius)

The Justice: Libra (September 21-October 20)

The Hanged Man: Pisces (February 21-March 20)

The Death: Scorpio (October 21-November 20)

The Temperance: Sagittarius (November 21-December 20)

The Devil: Capricorn (December 21-January 20)

The Tower: Scorpio and Aries (October 21-November 20) (March 21-April 20)

The Star: Aquarius (January 21-February 20)

The Moon: Pisces (February 21-March 20)

The Sun: Leo (July 21- August 20)

The Judgement: Scorpio (October 21-November 20)

The World: Capricorn (December 21-January 20)

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡ ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ��♡oopsie you already reached the end ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡

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vonlycsnn · 5 months ago

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Hello, author! Can I request Wise/ Licaon with reader-Vidyadhara (from honkai start real)? Reader shows love in an unusual way. Their dragon tail wags happily when Wise /Lycaon is around. Reader protects them even if reader are weaker. They give out ancient jewels and can also purr softly. Dragons are hard to trust, but the reader lets them touch their tail. The reader's actions scream "I LOVE YOU. I AM DEVOTED TO YOU FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE."

If you don't like the idea, then feel free to skip it. Anyway, I wish you all the best~

❈ — A DRAGON'S WAY OF AFFECTION

~ WISE AND VON LYCAON WITH (GN) VIDYADHARA! READER.

SUMMARY: AU - You're a Vidyadhara from the Xianzhou Loufu, travelling across the galaxy and visiting numerous planets just for the fun of it. One planet in particular is your absolute favorite to visit: Eridu-47. | You narrowly escape Thanatos with Wise (in Eous' body). Lycaon is surprised to see you at midnight.

cw/tw: mentions of (minor) injuries on Wise's part, other than that it's all fluff.

A/N: Crossover prompt! How exciting!! We need more playable Vidyadhara characters on hsr...they're such an interesting species. :0 Very sorry for taking so long with your request, and very sorry for not putting some of the actions you've said. :') Thank you for your request and for the kind words! Hope you enjoy reading this.

Breathing. All you could hear was your intense breathing.

You didn't know how long you were running for, but that didn't matter. What matters is getting out of this hollow ASAP. The only problem being that you were being chased by a highly dangerous ethereal.

You recall the moment Wise warned you about the beast. A very fast ethereal capable of slashing its prey in seconds—putting your guard down even for a single second could lead to your demise.

The two of you were terrified, but compared to the small bangboo tightly locked in your arms, deep down—you were the most terrified.

Never have you dealt with this kind of situation before. Sure, Yaoshi's abominations are tough to deal with, but they were more annoying than anything.

This? This was out of your league. You've only fought Ethereals once or twice since you've been here, so you basically had little experience on how to fight them.

But as you were overthinking about the situation, you heard Wise talking from Eous' little body.

"There it is! It's the exit!" It's a small hand/arm pointed forward.

You looked towards the direction it was pointing at; sure enough, the exit of the hollow was in front of you.

You picked up the pace, hoping that Thanatos would give up chasing you. Out of pure instinct, you threw the poor bangboo towards the exit before you could make it there yourself. Unbeknownst to you, Thanatos had created a scar on the back of your neck the second you got out of the hollow.

You trip and fall to the ground beneath you; your body slides against the pavement, creating some minor scratches on your body. But it was nothing you couldn't handle.

You tightly closed your eyes, now feeling the scar that the Ethereal created on the back of your neck.

You heard someone rushing towards you; soon after, you felt as if two people were looming over you.

"Belle, take them to the staff room. I'll recharge Eous in my room."

You heard a familiar voice, and you smiled gently when you realized who it was. You felt your tail wagging, sweeping dirt from the ground.

It was embarrassing to show this type of behavior in public, but you were too tired to care.

You sat up to see Belle in front of you, trying her best to help you. She took your arm and wrapped it around her shoulder, lifting you up to help you stand. But as you tried to listen to what she was saying, your vision became blurry, and then you passed out.

—

Your fingers played with your horns as you stared at the television in front of you. A blanket was moved aside to give you some space on the couch you were sitting on.

You've woken up 10 minutes prior, confused about what happened. Fortunately, Belle was here when you woke up and explained everything to you. She was always nice to talk to; she's optimistic and cheerful no matter the situation—its great.

But after a few minutes, she stood up from the couch and told you that she's going on a girls night out with Nicole and Anby. As she approached the door to leave the room, she looked at you and winked.

"Wise's making you some tea upstairs. Good luck with him, you hear?~" You heard her whisper.

And here you are now, sitting nervously as you overthink about Belle's words. Other than the bangboos inhabiting the store, it was only you and wise. You and wise. Your heart started to beat rapidly, and you looked to your side to see that your tail was wagging ever so slightly.

You tried to calm down, inhaling and exhaling slowly. Just as you were calming down though, you heard footsteps from upstairs...then they walked down the stairs.

Calm down, calm down. You can't let wise see you like this. It'll be embarr—

"Oh, hey, you're awake."

You jumped and snapped your head towards the door to see wisely at the doorway. He became concerned as he saw you breathing heavily, putting the two glass cups on the table behind the couch, and rushed to you.

"Sorry...did I scare you? Here. I made you tea."

He carefully picked up the cup and gave it to you. Still stunned by his presence, you shakingly accepted it. The cup felt warm; it wasn't too hot to the point where it could burn you. You smiled, and your tail wagged once more.

"It's nothing fancy. I don't know if the tea they serve on the Loufu is any different, but I hope you like it." Wise said.

You nodded, taking a sip of the tea he made. Your eyes closed as your taste buds danced with how good it was. Wise giggled at your reaction.

"I'm guessing that you enjoy it?"

"Mhm. It tastes slightly different than the ones from the Loufu...but still as delicious as any tea I've tried so far."

You held the cup up, inspecting it as if it were some piece of treasure. Wise laughed, but his attention was quickly stolen by your tail wagging constantly beside you. He smiled.

"Are you that happy to see me? Every time we meet in person, your tail always wags."

You paused your drinking, suddenly feeling embarrassed at your own behavior. You avert your gaze, trying to hide your red face from wise. He moved closer to you upon seeing your reaction.

"Hey, it's okay! I'm happy to see you as well; you shouldn't be risking your life in that hollow though..." He reminded you. You looked at him straight in the eyes, opening and closing your mouth as you struggled to get a word out.

"I-i just wanted to keep you safe...and Eous. Yeah." You awkwardly explained to him. Wise sighed, grabbing the blanket behind him and throwing it over your shoulders.

"Get some rest before you leave. You deserve it." Wise said. His voice was so comforting to you; it was soft and pleasant to your ears. You quietly purred.

"Oh right. Forgot to ask; did you bring back the videotape you rented a while back?" Wise asked. You froze in place.

You've completely forgotten that you rented a videotape from here a few weeks ago. And today was the deadline.

"I...may have forgotten it back in the Loufu. Haha."

You paced back and forth. Completely deep in your thoughts. You looked absolutely ridiculous in public, but people were too busy minding their own business to look at you weird.

In your hands was a box that looked like nothing from this world.

Of course it wasn't; it's a box containing the finest souvenirs from the Xianzhou Loufu. You held it close to your chest, preventing anyone from potentially stealing it. Or even worse, breaking the precious and fragile souvenirs inside. That would be a disaster. You'd have to pay a good amount of money to the seller you bought these from.

Sitting on the bench behind you, you quickly pulled out your phone. Looking at your contacts to find a specific person, he was the reason you came here in the first place.

A smile formed on your face when you saw his name; your scaled tail wagged simultaneously. But as you hovered your finger on the screen to click on his profile, you hesitated.

It was already late at night by the time you were here, so contacting him now wouldn't be ideal. You sighed, putting your phone back in your pocket, and stood up. Simply accepting that tomorrow morning would be a more appropriate time to give him the box.

You turned around to pick up the box, only to realize that it was gone. Your eyes widen at the sight, and your heart beats fast as you panic. You frantically looked around to see if anyone had taken it purposely or mistakenly.

That's when you heard it. From your pointy ears, you heard the echoes of rapid footsteps coming from your left. You snapped your head in the direction of the sound; sure enough, you saw a figure running towards the gross alleyways of lumina square.

"STOP. STOP IT. YOU THIEF."

You quickly chased him down as confused bystanders backed away in fear. The hooded man with your box created all sorts of obstacles to slow you down, from kicking down stacks of empty boxes to straight up pushing down a dumpster.

Unfortunately for him, this was nothing to you. Like any of the other Vidyadhara from the Loufu, you were athletic. Easily dodging the obstacles the man created.

He looked over his shoulder to see that you were almost caught up to him. He whimpered in fear, but just as he was about to pick up the pace to lose you, he tripped on something heavy and metallic. The impact nearly broke his foot in the process.

The box flung upwards, but thankfully someone effortlessly caught it with one hand. As you ran closer to the scene, you frozen. Tail wagging once more as you saw a tall, well-dressed wolf thiren standing in front of you. One of his prosthetic legs was stepping on the thief's back as a way to restrain him.

"Oh?" The man said. It was a familiar voice—the voice that makes you fall to your knees mentally every time you hear it.

"L-lycaon! I didn't expect you to be here at this hour." You expressed your shock to him.

"The same would apply to you. I wouldn't have expected to see you here in Eridu-47."

As Lycaon said that, he felt the man below him wiggling himself to try and escape. The thiren's eye glowed as a warning, and the hooded man squealed in fear as he finally pleaded guilty for his actions.

"I-i-im sorry! It won't happen again! I promise! I swear! I-i—"

The hooded man begged. Lycaon crouched and leaned towards the side of the man's face, whispering something directly to his ear.

You couldn't hear it, but you know Lycaon said something terrible when the man screamed in fear and quickly ran away the second Lycaon removed his leg from his back.

You were kind of scared, of course, but it was Lycaon. You trusted him dearly, and he has proved his sincerity many times before. So, you didn't question anything. Lycaon looked at you in relief, now holding the box full of goods with both of his hands.

"Apologies for my unbefitting behavior just now. I believe this belongs to you."

He handed you the box; he looked at you so softly that you couldn't help but stare at his face for a few seconds.

But you snapped out of your thoughts and declined. Lightly pushing the box back towards him. Of course, he was confused. Then you explained to him.

"It's for you, silly! No need to give it back to me." You giggled; you could see his one eye widen in surprise.

"My...you're too kind. I don't deserve such treatment from the likes of you." He said. You saw his ears twitching and his tail ever so slightly wagging from this; you smiled. Holding back a laugh.

He looked down at the box, now noticing that it's tightly sealed. Preventing anything from falling out.

"And what awaits me inside this box, may I ask?" He asked you.

One hand was gently placed on top of the box while the other held the bottom part so as not to let it fall to the break.

You walked closer to him, looking upwards to his face as you smiled widely.

"Inside are exclusive items from the Xianzhou Loufu. How about you open it and see for yourself? W-well, maybe not in this dirty alleyway at least." You awkwardly laughed. The thiren merely chuckled, gently taking your hand.

"Then I know just the place. If I may?" Your eyes widen when he offers you this; your horns glowed brightly as you felt your tail wagging. You smiled, nodding at his offer.

"Lead the way, dear attendant." You playful said. He laughed.

"Please. Just call me Lycaon."

Then the two of you walked out of the alleyway, admiring the nightly scenes of lumina square as Lycaon guided you to the rooftop of a building.

You smiled widely; tonight turned out better than you expected it to be. You couldn't wait to see his reaction to the items inside the box, and quite frankly, you were just very happy to be by his side.

Oh, what a happy little dragon you are right now.

#n-writes #zenless zone zero #zzz #zzzero #zenless zone zero x reader #zzz x reader #von lycaon #zzz wise #von lycaon x reader #zzz lycaon #wise x reader #zzz wise x reader #not very proud of this but i still you all enjoy this!#honkai star rail #vidyadhara

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im-gonna-sing-the-doom-song-blog · 7 months ago

Text

Dating Jason Todd

Just some thoughts…

1. Protective Instincts: Jason is fiercely protective, sometimes overly so. He often worries about your safety, given his own traumatic past and the dangerous life he leads as Red Hood. This means you'll often find him shadowing you or setting up precautionary measures to ensure you're safe.

2. Intellectual Conversations: Despite his rough exterior, Jason is well-read and enjoys deep conversations about literature, philosophy, and current events. He loves debating ideas with you, especially when you challenge his views.

3. Acts of Service: Jason shows his love through actions rather than words. Whether it’s fixing things around your home, cooking a surprise dinner, or taking care of things you're stressed about, he’s always looking for ways to make your life easier and show he cares.

4.Emotional Vulnerability: It takes time for Jason to open up about his past and his feelings. When he does, it’s a significant sign of trust and love. He appreciates your patience and understanding, and he values the emotional support you provide.

5. Adventure Together: Jason loves taking you on thrilling escapades, from motorcycle rides through Gotham at night to impromptu trips out of the city. He enjoys sharing the adrenaline rush with you and creating exciting memories.

6. Physical Affection: While not always verbally expressive, Jason is physically affectionate. He often holds your hand, hugs you from behind, or brushes his fingers against your cheek. His touch is reassuring and protective.

7. Shared Silence: Sometimes, Jason just needs quiet moments with you. Whether you're reading side by side or sitting together in comfortable silence, he cherishes these peaceful interludes as much as the more intense moments.

8. Supportive Partner: Jason is incredibly supportive of your goals and dreams. He pushes you to pursue your passions and stands by you through challenges, always offering encouragement and practical help when needed.

9. Sense of Humor: Despite his brooding demeanor, Jason has a sharp wit and enjoys making you laugh. His humor often has a dark, sarcastic edge, but it lightens the mood and strengthens your bond.

10. Protective Gear: Knowing the risks he faces, Jason sometimes insists on teaching you self-defense or provides you with gadgets to ensure your safety. He wants you to be able to protect yourself if he's not around.

11. Shared Burdens: Jason sometimes struggles with his sense of guilt and responsibility. You help him by sharing his burdens, reminding him that he’s not alone and that it’s okay to rely on others for support.

12. Memorable Gifts: Jason is thoughtful with his gifts, often choosing ones with deep personal significance or practical utility. Whether it’s a rare book you mentioned once or a custom piece of equipment, his gifts reflect how much he listens and cares.

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #red hood #jason todd headcanon

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just-aake · 3 months ago

Text

A Feline Connection Part 4

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha works together with you to help Widow and learns a bit more about just the kind of person you are.

Warnings: light angst, violence, hurt/comfort, fluff

Words: 4329

Natasha steps onto the rooftop of a building, her footsteps barely making a sound as she surveys the city sprawled out beneath her. The low hum of night traffic mixed with the distant murmur of voices, creating the familiar backdrop of New York City after dark.

She approaches the edge of the building, her gaze sweeping across the streets below, her mind preoccupied with the message you had sent her.

A quick glance at her phone confirmed the location and time. She was exactly where she needed to be, but there was no sign of you or your little companion yet.

Natasha lets out a quiet breath, pocketing her phone as her thoughts drift to you.

Despite the doubts her training pressed upon her, her instincts tell her you weren’t a bad person—that she could trust you.

But she couldn’t let her personal feelings interfere, not when so much was still uncertain.

Your situation was complicated, tangled in a web of dangerous choices, which meant Natasha had to remain cautious and vigilant.

That’s when she feels a subtle shift in the air, a sudden presence behind her.

Instinctively, Natasha whirls around, her hand snapping out to catch a wrist mid-motion.

Her eyes meet yours, and in the instant of realization, she halts the throw she was about to execute. Instead, the force just pulls you closer in the process, until your chest is pressed against hers.

You stumble slightly, your hand instinctively landing on her shoulder for balance and support.

Natasha freezes, her breath catching at the sudden proximity.

Neither of you move, the air between you charged with tension. The heat of your body pressed intimately against hers sends a jolt through her system, and for a split second, she forgets to breathe.

A low chuckle escapes you, the sound reverberating against her chest. You look up, amusement dancing in your eyes.

“You’re getting better,” you murmur, a teasing smile curving your lips. “This makes it four to one.”

Natasha blinks, still processing just how close you are.

“Four to one?” she echoes, her brow furrowing slightly.

“How many times I’ve successfully sneaked up on you,” you clarify, your smirk widening. “You’ve only caught me once now.”

Natasha huffs, a faint smirk of her own tugging at her lips.

“Two of those times, I was asleep,” she counters.

You shake your head, clicking your tongue playfully.

“That’s no excuse for the Black Widow,” you tease. “What would your fans think?”

Before Natasha realizes what she is doing, she finds herself leaning slightly closer to you.

“I don’t know,” she whispers, her voice lower than usual, “you tell me.”

Your grin widens, clearly enjoying the usual banter between the two of you.

“I’m sure they’ll still be impressed by your other charming qualities,” you respond softly.

But beneath the amusement, there was a flicker of something else in your eyes—something deeper, almost as if you were daring her to close the distance between you.

Natasha’s pulse quickens, the warmth of your body drawing her in like a magnet, the faint glow of the city lights behind you only adding to the moment.

But just as quickly, she reminds herself of the situation. Of where you both stand.

She swallows, clearing her throat as she quickly releases your wrist and takes a step back, pushing away the feeling that had crept up on her.

“So,” Natasha begins, her voice slightly more controlled, “where’s our little friend?”

Before you can respond, something small and quick leaps onto Natasha’s back, clinging briefly before hopping onto her shoulder.

Startled for a moment, Natasha relaxes as she turns to see Widow perched there, letting out a happy meow in greeting.

Natasha chuckles softly, reaching up to scratch under Widow’s chin.

“There you are.”

You step around her, moving toward the ledge with a teasing glance.

“I’m pretty sure Widow’s score against you is much higher though,” you remark over your shoulder, brushing past her as you approach the edge of the rooftop.

Natasha’s eyes follow you, her attention drawn in once more, mesmerized as you gaze out over the cityscape, your features softened in the dim light.

That familiar warm feeling stirs within her as she takes in the sight of you.

Her focus is only broken when a soft paw taps at her cheek.

Natasha turns her gaze to the feline, who gives her an almost teasing meow before leaping gracefully from her shoulder to yours.

You smile fondly at the cat, gently stroking her fur before turning your focus back to the building across the street.

It’s an exclusive club—one of those high-end places with multiple floors reserved for private, discreet business dealings, both professional and personal, and most of the time, not law-abiding.

“What are we doing here?” Natasha asks, joining you by the ledge.

“This is where the control system for the device inside of Widow is being kept,” you explain, your tone shifting into something more serious.

“How do you know?”

You glance at her, raising an eyebrow in return.

Natasha nods slightly in understanding.

“You already tried to steal it,” she guesses, her eyes scanning the building across from you both. “But something went wrong.”

A small smile tugs at your lips, a hint of amusement flashing in your eyes.

“The system can’t leave this location,” you explain, giving Widow a gentle scratch on the head before setting her down on the ledge. “And Widow has to stay close enough to maintain the connection, which means the bomb has to be deactivated on-site.”

Natasha hums in acknowledgment, her fingers resting lightly against the cool stone of the building as she considers the situation. Deactivating a bomb with specific limitations–that’s something she can definitely help you with.

After a moment of silence, you speak again.

“How’s your mission going?” you ask casually, glancing sideways at her.

Natasha shoots you a look, one that clearly conveys her wariness of sharing too much. You had interfered with her mission before, after all, and trust was still a fragile thing between the two of you.

“Let’s just focus on deactivating the bomb first,” she says, pivoting away from your question.

You smile knowingly, understanding and respecting her decision to keep things close to the chest.

“Fair enough.”

Standing beside Widow, you pull out a small pen-like device from your pocket.

Natasha watches curiously as you aim it at one of the windows across the street.

A thin red laser flickers from the pen, bouncing off the glass as you click it a few times.

Widow’s attention snaps to the laser instantly, her tail twitching in anticipation. She lets out a soft meow before, without hesitation, leaping gracefully from the ledge.

Natasha’s heart skipped a beat as she watched the cat jump, and she leaned over the edge, only to see the feline's agile body landing on a nearby balcony below before disappearing into the shadows.

“You sure she’ll be okay?” Natasha asks, unable to keep the concern out of her voice.

You shoot her a playful glance.

“I told you—they always land on their feet.”

Natasha rolls her eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. Standing a bit straighter, she turns back to you.

“So, what’s next?”

“Now…” you trail off, stepping closer to her, brushing your fingers lightly against her shoulder.

Your smirk deepens as you lean in, the space between you narrowing again.

“Now we see if the Black Widow can keep up.”

Before Natasha can respond, you shoot a grappling line across the street, the device pulling you swiftly into the shadows of the opposing building’s alleyway.

Natasha’s heart races as she watches you disappear, your movements smooth and precise.

Without hesitation, she grabs her own grappling hook, launching herself into the air with practiced ease. As her feet hit the ground, adrenaline surges through her veins, heightening her senses.

She stays close behind, catching glimpses of you darting through alleyways, your figure slipping in and out of view.

Almost closing the distance, Natasha rounds a final corner, only to find herself alone, standing at the back entrance of the building.

She scans the area, brow furrowing when she doesn’t see any sign of you.

Stepping up to the back door, Natasha tugs at the handle—locked.

That means you didn’t go in this way, but discovering that doesn’t mean it’s not something she can’t use.

With a determined sigh, Natasha knocks loudly, stepping back as the door clicks open.

A confused guard peers out, and Natasha gives him a small wave.

"Hey," Natasha greets with a disarming smile.

Before the guard can react, she flips him over her shoulder with a quick, fluid motion, knocking him out cold. Catching the door before it closes, she slips inside.

Moving swiftly through the dark back room, Natasha reaches the main doors leading into the club’s crowded interior. She cracks the door open, scanning the room for any sign of you but finding none.

Wondering about your whereabouts, Natasha suddenly feels a light touch on her shoulder and turns her head quickly, startled to find you standing there with a teasing smile.

“That’s another point for me,” you say, your tone playful.

Natasha huffs in disbelief but can’t deny you’ve managed to sneak up on her yet again.

Before she can respond, you grab her hand and pull her into the chaotic crowd of the club.

“Come on, Widow’s probably already waiting for us,” you say over your shoulder.

The music is loud, bodies moving in rhythm all around you as you guide her toward the bar. You signal the bartender for drinks before leaning back casually against the counter.

Without missing a beat, you slide Natasha’s hand to rest on your waist, your arm casually wrapping around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

Natasha’s breath catches, her body brushing against yours as her other hand rests on the bar counter for support.

The close proximity between you stirs something within her, her pulse quickening at the way your warmth seeps into her skin.

Leaning in, you make it look like you’re whispering something intimate, but your words are purely business, focused on the mission.

“The only way to the elevator for the exclusive floors is through that door,” you murmur, nodding toward a guarded entrance. “We’ll need a valid room key to get in.”

Natasha swallows, the sensation of your breath against her ear momentarily distracting her.

“You have one?” she asks, her voice slightly breathless.

"Not yet," you reply, leaning back, your eyes gleaming with mischief. "But I’ll have one in a second. How’s your acting?"

Before Natasha can respond, the bartender sets two drinks beside you.

Turning, you grab them quickly before spinning on your heel and colliding with a nearby patron.

The impact sends the drinks spilling all over the man’s expensive suit. He lets out a shout of surprise, his face contorting in outrage.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” you exclaim, your tone perfectly apologetic as you frantically pat his soaked jacket with a napkin.

The man scowls, waving off your apology and shoving you back roughly.

“This suit is worth more than your life!” he snaps angrily.

Before he can say anything else, Natasha steps in, her arm wrapping protectively around your waist as she pulls you against her.

Her gaze sharpens, daring the man to make a scene.

“It was an accident, and she already apologized,” Natasha says, her tone firm. “Now, I suggest you go clean yourself up before you say anything else you’ll regret.”

The man hesitates, his mouth opening as if to argue, but when his eyes meet Natasha’s steely glare, he rethinks his decision.

With a disgruntled huff, he storms off toward the restroom.

Turning in her arms, you flash her a playful grin.

"My hero," you tease, placing a dramatic hand on her shoulder.

Natasha rolls her eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile on her lips.

“The key card?” she prompts.

With a smirk, you hold up the card you deftly swiped from the man’s jacket.

“Got it.”

“Show-off,” Natasha mutters, though her voice is tinged with warmth.

With the key card in hand, you lead her toward the guarded entrance, your hand finding hers again.

The guards barely glance at you as you approach, their attention more focused on the crowd behind you.

With a quick swipe of the card, the door unlocks, and the two of you slip past the guards, making your way toward the private elevator.

Once inside, the doors close with a soft hiss, and the noise from the club fades into silence.

The enclosed space feels intimate, and Natasha is acutely aware of your proximity, your hand still lightly clasped around hers.

“So, what’s next after we finish this?” Natasha asks, her voice softer.

You lean casually against the wall, tilting your head at her with a teasing smile.

“Already thinking about the future? We haven’t even finished the mission yet.”

Natasha huffs a soft laugh, but there’s an underlying seriousness to her question.

“Will you leave the city?” she asks, her voice softening in understanding how that would be the safest option for the two of you once their leverage on you is gone.

Your playful demeanor falters slightly, replaced by a more thoughtful expression.

“I don’t know. Widow’s grown pretty fond of you,” you say before giving her a soft smile.

“She’ll miss you…” you swing your clasped hand lightly before adding in a whisper. “…and I might too."

Natasha’s heart skips a beat, her eyes locking with yours. The space between you seems smaller, the air around you charged with something unspoken.

Before either of you can say anything more, the elevator dings, signaling your arrival.

Natasha glances away, the moment interrupted as the doors slide open to reveal a sleek, quiet hallway.

You let go of her hand as you step out of the elevator with Natasha following soon after.

You find the door you need to enter at the end of the hall.

There is only one problem—a complex lock is in place, far more sophisticated than expected.

You kneel before it, pulling out a small set of tools from your jacket.

Natasha stands beside you, her eyes scanning the hallway as you start working on the lock.

You can feel her close, her presence like a shadow hovering protectively over you.

A few moments in, the sound of approaching footsteps reaches Natasha’s ears, her posture tensing.

She knows that just standing by the door is too suspicious, especially if someone spots them like this.

She’s about to warn you and prepare for a confrontation when, without missing a beat, you stand abruptly and grab Natasha by the arm, pulling her close.

Natasha’s eyes widen for a split second, but you’re quicker—your lips press against hers, soft and urgent.

It takes her only a heartbeat to respond, melting into the kiss, her hand sliding up to cup your neck, pulling you closer.

Your back bumps against the door as Natasha steps forward, closing any distance between your bodies. You gasp in surprise at the action, the soft and low sound escaping from you as Natasha deepens the kiss.

Her lips move against yours with a heat and intensity that catches both of you off guard while your fingers find and clench at her jacket, pulling her impossibly closer to you.

Natasha’s body molds perfectly against yours as the sound of the footsteps draws nearer.

Whoever was coming stops briefly at the end of the hall, but the sight of two people lost in a passionate embrace seems to deter them, and soon the footsteps retreat quickly.

As soon as the danger passes, you pull back slightly, your breath warm against her lips, your dilated eyes still locked with hers as a flush graces your cheeks.

Natasha feels a rush of heat in her chest at the sight and finds herself wanting to linger in the moment.

“Was that part of the plan?” Natasha whispers, her voice rough and breathless.

You smirk, your thumb brushing lightly against her waist.

“Improvised. But effective,” you tilt your head slightly, causing your nose to brush lightly against hers, your voice lowering. “I’m sure that’s not the first time you’ve had to pretend to kiss someone.”

Natasha smirks, though her voice is tinged with something more.

“Sure…pretend.”

For a moment, the two of you don’t move any further away from each other, the heat still remaining.

Natasha exhales softly as her eyes linger on you a moment longer, and she finds herself leaning in again, slow enough for you to move away if you want.

But you don’t.

Just as she’s about to close the distance again, a sharp click echoes through the hallway—the lock disengaging.

The sound pulls both of you back to the mission at hand, interrupting the moment, and the two of you hear a distinct familiar meow from behind the door.

Clearing your throat lightly, you give her a small smile before turning the door handle and stepping back to push the door open.

“After you,” you say softly, holding the door open for her.

Releasing a steadying breath, Natasha steps past you, her heart still racing from the kiss, but her focus returns to the task ahead.

Inside the room, the dim light casts shadows on the furniture.

Widow steps out from the darkness, meowing softly as she moves toward Natasha.

However, the cat stops in the space between the two of you and turns her sharp gaze from you to her curiously as if she senses the shift of the tension in the air.

Natasha scratches the cat’s head gently in greeting before glancing at you.

“Where’s the system?” she asks, her mind shifting back to the mission.

You move to the large desk, pressing a hidden panel. The surface slides open, revealing a sleek terminal.

“Right here. Couldn’t exactly carry this out the window,” you joke.

Natasha moves to the screen, her fingers quickly accessing the system.

Widow hops onto the desk, curiously observing Natasha before attempting to reach for the keys on the keyboard, but you pull her back before she can.

“No,” you reprimand gently.

The cat lets out a small, disgruntled cry, displeased at not being allowed to assist Natasha in her hacking.

Natasha’s lips quirk up fondly at the cat’s antics before returning to her task.

As she works, you stand nearby, watching her closely, your presence a comforting weight beside her.

For a moment, the mission fades, and Natasha finds herself thinking about your words in the elevator and what happened earlier, wondering if this—whatever this is—could be something more.

But there’s still so much she doesn’t know about you—of the things you’re still hiding.

Wanting to learn more, Natasha breaks the silence, her voice soft.

“What happened between you and them? To make them go this far?”

You lean against the desk, your teasing tone light.

“Trying to dig into my past, Miss Black Widow? Feels like something we’d discuss on a first date.”

Natasha smirks, her fingers still moving over the keys.

“This would definitely be one of the more interesting dates I’ve had.”

You chuckle, running a hand through Widow’s fur as she curls beside you.

Just when Natasha thinks you’re not going to tell her, you speak up.

“We worked together for years. Started off small—simple jobs, easy money. But then, things got darker. Shadier deals, dangerous clients.” Your voice lowers, growing more serious. “I didn’t know people were getting hurt. But when I found out…I couldn’t stay. So, Widow and I ran.”

Natasha nods, her heart softening at your story.

“And now they want you to pay for that.”

“Pretty much,” you say before hesitating slightly and deciding to add under your breath. “That and when I left, I stole almost all of their money at the time and gave it away anonymously to multiple charities across the world.”

Natasha pauses, her brows raising at you in disbelief.

You give her a serious nod in response, no signs of joking or teasing in your expression. Widow meows as if confirming your statement.

Natasha exhales an impressed huff, shaking her head slightly.

“That’s bold,” she states, her fingers moving deftly over the keyboard as she resumes her work. “But strangely, not surprising of you.”

You let out a light laugh, pushing off the edge of the desk where you’d been leaning. There’s a casual ease in your posture, but your gaze lingers on her as if considering something deeper.

“What about your past, Miss Black Widow?”

Natasha’s lip twists slightly, a flicker of sadness crossing her face before she looks up at you.

“Everything I’ve done was revealed to the public when SHIELD fell,” she says, her voice carrying a heavy note of resignation. “So, you know my past isn’t all that much better than yours. Neither am I.”

A quiet settles over the room, the only sound being the soft clicking of the keys as Natasha continues her work.

You watch her in that silence, your mind running over her words and the weight they carry.

Finally, you break the stillness, your tone thoughtful.

“I disagree.”

Natasha glances at you with an amused smirk on her lips.

“And what do you think you know about me?”

You meet her gaze steadily, the playful edge in your smile softening as you speak.

“I know you have trouble sleeping because you’re haunted by what you’ve done.”

Natasha freezes, her fingers going still as her eyes snap up to meet yours, surprise flickering in her gaze.

You hold that connection, offering a small, genuine smile as you continue.

“I know that’s why you spend your life dedicated to helping others. Why you keep trying to fix things, why you’re helping me and Widow.”

As if on cue, the cat meows from her perch on the desk, casting a curious look between the two of you. You chuckle lightly at Widow’s timing before turning back to Natasha.

“I know that you don’t judge people based on past mistakes, no matter how bad they were.”

There’s a pause, the air thick with the weight of the moment.

Your voice softens, and the sincerity in your words is palpable as you add, “And I know you’re a good person. You’ve already proven that to me. More than once.”

Natasha’s throat tightens, and she swallows lightly, clearly moved by your words though she tries to hide it.

Her gaze lingers on you a second longer, searching your expression for any trace of doubt or insincerity.

“Careful,” she finally says, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth, her voice teasing but softer now. “You’re starting to sound like a fan.”

You roll your eyes, though your chuckle is warm, the tension between you lightening for just a moment.

“I think I might see the appeal,” you tease back, flashing her a smile.

Natasha’s lips quirk upward, her eyes softening briefly before she returns her attention to the computer. Her fingers fly over the keys, a determined focus settling back over her as she works.

After a few more moments, she inhales sharply.

“I’ve got it,” she says, looking up at you with a triumphant glint in her eyes. “I can deactivate the device.”

You step closer, leaning over her shoulder to peer at the screen. The proximity makes the air between you feel charged, your breath warm against her neck.

"Great. Let’s finish this."

Natasha presses a few final keys, initiating the deactivation sequence.

Widow, who had been lounging nearby, suddenly stiffens and stands. The cat lets out a disgruntled meow, glaring at both of you with wide, accusing eyes before biting at the side of her body in irritation.

“So…it’s done?” you ask, your voice laced with relief but still tentative as you straighten and take a step back.

Natasha nods, glancing at the system.

“The bomb’s deactivated,” she confirms. “But we should still take her back to the Compound, just to make sure everything’s clear.”

Before Natasha can say more, a sudden alert flashes on the screen.

Furrowing her brows, she analyzes the information, her heart sinking as she realizes the deactivation triggered something else—another similar device has been activated.

Her fingers flies across the keys as she searches for more information.

The location of the system for this other device appears to be hidden somewhere else instead of here, so there nothing she can do to deactivate it.

But she does end up finding some details and specifications about the device.

Her eyes scan the screen before widening in alarm once she sees who the device is implanted in.

Your name is listed at the bottom of the screen.

Before she can react, Natasha feels a sharp prick on the side of her neck. She recoils away and turns around, her hand flying to the spot.

Her eyes meet yours in confusion before drifting to the tranquilizer in your hand.

You flinch guiltily at her accusing stare.

“That makes it six,” you say softly with a sad sigh.

Natasha frowns in realization as her body becomes almost instantly numb, and she stumbles back against the desk, trying to support herself up.

Widow runs toward her, meowing in concern, her paw raising to grip Natasha’s arm.

But Natasha doesn’t pay attention to the small creature, her focus entirely on you.

“Why?” Natasha grits out.

“I told you—one more job,” you say, your voice filled with remorse. “And I can’t have you interfering.”

You give her a regretful expression.

“Unfortunately, I do need to use you one last time.”

Natasha feels the last of her energy escaping as her legs collapse from under her, and she falls to the ground, her eyelids feeling heavier to keep open.

You crouch down beside her, brushing a strand of hair from her face with a tenderness that cuts deeper than any wound.

Widow hops down from the desk and lands in space between the two of you, her cries growing louder in panic as she looks between you and Natasha in confusion.

Natasha feels the soft paws pushing insistently against her as her vision darkens, her body going limp as the last of her strength fades.

Widow’s concerned cries grow distant as the world around her slips away. The last thing she hears before she loses consciousness is your voice, soft and filled with regret.

“I’m sorry.”

And then, there’s only darkness.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: thanks for reading!

If you asked to be tagged and I missed it, please let me know again.

Taglist : @cd-4848, @carifletchersgirl, @skittlebum, @queen-of-chaotic-surprises, @ima-gi--na-tion, @rainix13, @gay4hotmilfs, @imaginexred, @caramelcat123, @2silverchain, @nowthisisliving27

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanoff

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expensiveity · 1 year ago

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jealousy can hide in compliments, envy can be disguised as support, and hate can hide in love. just because they're giving it to you, doesn't necessarily mean they have it for you and that the intentions behind it are pure. idc how well it’s dressed up. discernment will tell you every time if you would just listen attentively. if you ever get a ickling about anyone. trust your instincts + go with your gut. cause 9/10 chances are it is what it looks like. pay close attention to the energy and not the words and/or actions they potray.

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boohorns1136439 · 24 days ago

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Learning to belong ~ poly!MHA x fem!Reader (09)

Alright, merry Christmas everyone ! A bit late but still. I don’t have anything to offer to you guys. I can activate my anonymous ask if you guys want to ask me questions about the fic, I won’t say anything that’ll spoil the story but if any of you have a question. Why not ?

Warning: cursing (?)

Tags: Pack! Izuku Midoriya X Bakugo Katsuki X Shoto Todoroki X Kirishima Eijirou ; Pack! X fem!Reader ; Omega!Izuku Midoriya ; Omega!Bakugo Katsuki ; Omega!Shoto Todoroki ; Omega!Kirishima Eijirou ; technically Beta!Reader ; modern Au ; post-UA ; Reader has a quirk ; non hero!Reader ; smut eventually ; fem!Reader ; afab!Reader

08 <- 09 -> 10

Masterlist

Taglist

Izuku left his appartement troubled the day Todoroki’s "confessed" to them what really happened at the hospital. He’d spent the morning buried in his work at the agency he shared with Katsuki, hoping patrols and incident reports would quiet the uneasiness settling inside him. But it lingered, clouding his thoughts.

It wasn’t anger, not exactly. Or at least, not just anger. Frustration, maybe. A weight of uncertainty pressing on his chest, mixed with a bitter taste of jealousy he wasn’t proud to admit. He understood. He did. He knew how overwhelming a bad heat could be for an omega, how it could strip away all logic, leaving them at the mercy of your instincts. He’d been there himself, and he’d rather break every bones in his body than revisiting some of those awkward, clumsy high school’s memories. Though that knowledge didn’t make it easier to imagine Todoroki in that vulnerable, desperate state, reaching out for a stranger. The thought twisted in his chest. It wasn’t that Izuku doubted Todoroki’s love or loyalty. Absolutely not, years of shared struggles, laughters, near-death battles, and quiet mornings filled with kisses and affection had since long dispelled his old fears of being abandoned and not being enough for his pack. But imagining Todoroki like that, with someone else, left him haunted by the question: What if Kirishima hadn’t come in time? It had clung to him all morning, feeding his uneasiness. Again, It wasn’t about mistrust, he trusted Todoroki with his own life, it was about the helplessness of it all. He hated that his mate had gone through something so overwhelming and difficult, and he hadn’t been there to help.

By the time lunch rolled around, the weight of his thoughts was too much to bear. Izuku found Katsuki in the breakroom, halfway through his usual homemade lunch.

“Kacchan,” Izuku began hesitantly, sliding into the seat across from him and opening his own lunch box.

Katsuki paused mid-chew, his sharp crimson eyes narrowing recognizing the worried look in his mate green eyes . “What?”

Izuku poked at his food, his appetite nowhere to be found. “It’s about Shoto.”

That got Katsuki’s attention. He set his chopsticks down with a deliberate clink, leaning back in his chair with a sigh.

“What about him? You still hung up on the hospital thing?”

“I’m not ‘hung up,’” Izuku said quickly, though the defensiveness in his voice betrayed him. “I just… I don’t know how to feel about it. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“You’re overthinking. As usual.”

“Kacchan, I’m serious. Please.”

Katsuki studied him for a moment, his sharp gaze softening just slightly. “Are you mad at him? You know he wouldn’t have done that if his brain wasn’t heat-fried, right?”

“No, I’m not mad at him. Maybe a little,” Izuku admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I’m more mad at myself. This whole thing is just so… weird. And maybe if I’d noticed he was going into an early heat, none of this would’ve happened.”

Katsuki clicked his tongue, leaning forward. “You’re not a damn mind reader. The half-and-half bastard didn’t even know what was going on with himself. Yeah, it sucks, and I don’t like it too, but you can’t stop every little thing from going wrong before it happens.”

Izuku frowned, concern flickering across his face. “I know, but I’m still really worried about him. Didn’t he still look… off this morning? I can’t shake the feeling that he’s not okay.”

“Of course, he’s not okay,” Katsuki snapped, though there was no real bite in his voice. “But that’s why we, you’ve gotta talk to him instead of sitting here stewing in your own damn head like a dumbass. You wanna fix this? Go home and deal with it. No point in worrying all day about it, focus on what you can do now and do it.”

Izuku nodded in response.

“You’re right. I just—thank you, Kacchan. Really.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes but didn’t pull his hand away when Izuku reached out to give it a quick squeeze. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get all sappy on me.”

He held Izuku’s hand for a moment before pulling free, grabbing his chopsticks again.

“Now shut up and eat,” Katsuki added. “I didn’t bust my ass making lunch just for you to waste it.”

Izuku smiled, the tension in his chest easing just a little.

By the time Izuku got home that evening, the weight in his chest had eased, thanks to Katsuki’s words lingering in his mind. Tonight, it would just be him and Todoroki—Kirishima and Bakugo were out on night patrol so they wouldn’t be back before later in the night.

The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the heater. As Izuku stepped into the living room, he spotted Todoroki on the couch, sitting cross-legged with a bowl of peach slices perched on the armrest beside him. He looked up briefly when Izuku entered, his lips twitching into a faint smile. But it didn’t reach his eyes—just polite, and anything but genuine.

“Hey,” Izuku greeted gently, as he studied Todoroki’s face. The jealousy and frustration that had gnawed at him earlier felt distant now, the only thing left from his emotional turmoil was concern for his mate.

“Long day?” he asked, moving closer.

Todoroki shrugged, picking up a peach slice from the bowl.

“Not really. Just tired.”

“Tired how?” Izuku pressed, sitting beside him. “Post-heat tired, or… something else?”

There was a pause, just long enough for Izuku to notice the way Todoroki’s fingers tightened around the edge of the bowl.

“Post-heat tired,” he replied, but his voice was clipped and dismissive.

“You went to the hospital to apologize, right? Did you see her?”

Todoroki stilled at the mention of the hospital. His whole body froze, and his gaze dropped to the floor. The air between them grew heavy, and the silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable, making Izuku regret his words almost instantly.

“I went,” Todoroki murmured eventually, his voice so low Izuku almost didn’t catch it. “But she wasn’t there.”

“Well… that’s okay,” Izuku said carefully. “You can try another time. Or maybe write her a letter to the director’s hospital directly so he can arrange a meeting?”

Todoroki didn’t respond, his posture unusually stiff. Normally, Todoroki’s silences were comfortable, but this one made Izuku worry even more as his green eyes flicked to the bowl of peaches, then back to his mate.

“Peaches ?” he said, trying poorly to lighten the mood.

“I bought them after going to the hospital,” Todoroki replied flatly, popping another slice into his mouth without meeting Izuku’s gaze.

Everything felt off. Even Todoroki’s scent was wrong. The usual freshness and sweetness of frozen berries and honey was tainted with something sharp and sour, a bitterness that made his nose itchy and worried his omega. His omega instincts screamed at him to do something, to reach out, to comfort his mate.

“Shoto,” Izuku said softly. “If something’s bothering you, you can tell me. You don’t have to deal with it alone.”

Todoroki’s gaze flickered toward the window, his expression unreadable.

“I’m fine,” he said, but the words lacked conviction.

“You’re not fine,” Izuku said, his voice steady but gentle. He gave Todoroki’s knee a light squeeze. “But I’m here, we are all here so whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”

Todoroki’s breath hitched, his shoulders stiffening. But for the first time tonight, his blue and grey eyes met Izuku’s.

“I just… what I did was wrong. It wasn’t just the heat. I couldn’t think straight and someone got hurt because of me.”

“Shoto…” Izuku’s chest tightened.

“It doesn’t matter if I wasn’t myself,” Todoroki said bitterly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I still did it. I should’ve been stronger. I don’t even understand how I could just lose control like that. It’s never happened before.”

“You’re not immune to your instincts, no matter how much control over them you think you have.”

Todoroki’s jaw tightened, his gaze shifting to the floor.

”I hurt someone, Izuku. That’s not something I can just excuse because I was in heat.”

As he faced Todoroki, Izuku remembered Katsuki’s words from earlier that day, and found himself offering a similar piece of advice to his mate. The green and orange pair unknowingly working together to support their mate.

“I’m not saying it excuses anything. What you did was wrong, and you know that. But beating yourself up over it won’t fix anything. What will make a difference is taking action—doing what you're already trying to do: owning up to it and making it right. ”

Slowly, Todoroki leaned forward, letting his forehead rest against Izuku’s shoulder, as if the weight of it all had finally pushed him down. Izuku didn’t hesitate, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him even closer. Todoroki felt tense under his touch, and something told Izuku there was more than just guilt. Something deeper, but for now, he didn’t push. He held him tighter, letting his mate feel the steady warmth of his presence.

“Can I have some peaches?” Izuku murmured after a moment, his second attempt at lightening the mood that night, but, as always, he never gave up.

Todoroki huffed softly, the sound almost like a laugh. “No.”

Izuku smiled at the sound and tried to grab a slice of peach anyway, but Todoroki moved the bowl out of reach.

“Wait, seriously?”

“I’m eating them all,” he said matter-of-factly, though the corners of his lips twitched upward, hinting at a playful smile.

“I didn’t know you liked it so much.”

Todoroki shrugged. “I never cared for peach, but I’ve been craving them lately.”

Hey guys, I didn’t update on Sunday like I planned, and I don’t think I’ll manage a second update today either (sorry about that 😭). In my defense, I did try, but I can be lazy sometimes and I didn’t like the first version of this chapter. This chapter ended up shorter than I wanted, and I struggled writing it. I’d love your thoughts on it, in fact I need it for this chapter (Izuku, the dialogue, characterization...). I am not happy about it but I don’t think I can improve it anymore. I won’t make any promises I can’t keep, but let’s hope the next chapter is longer. After the holidays, I should be free, so Chapter 10 will be out next week!

As always, criticisms are welcomed

Big thank you to @cafekitsune who made the beautiful dividers

08 <- 09 -> 10

Taglist: @too-much-gacha ; @electronicexpertshark ; @poopopp ; @cjdjfhfhfufjfdj ; @kimi01985 ; @icycoldbeanieweanies ; @ghostlyworld ; @marsbars09 ; @queenondeezmatatas ; @imnotherw ; @bedheadloser ; @chrisbiniesluvrr ; @fsocs-blog ; @jadeddangel ; @qardasngan ; @omgeyeless-blog ; @goldenglow149 ; @andysteve1311 ; @pinkmelodies ; @hopefulb1ue ; @redkarmakai ; @zukusluvr ; @navezepol221 ; @candiiee ; @aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaq ; @mniya ; @randomhuman112 ; @mintvender r ; @deadendgrim ; @captainswanarcher ; @figbaby ; @midnight-nightmare ; @bluepatrolbear ; @talilosha ; @bawlangya ; @optimisticprime3 ; @purplescorpi0 ; @astrolovedy ; @desiree-lee ; @okaysxx ; @the-faceless-bride ; @thelameone101 ; @gethexxed ; @lowkeyhottho ; @bvirrious ; @heespretty ; @roxy776699 ; @kamy-thee-egg ; @talia-the-gemini ; @pikachuzhc ; @itsnotjustmyself-blog ; @roxy776699 ; @mystic60 ; @reallysparklychaos ; @sixxze ; @blurryperrtymoonlight ; @1poison-cat1 ; @allyfoxglove ; @mindsbloody ; @jkvolgs ; @haruaikawa ; @k3nmakyan ; @my-anime-garden ; @fto6 ; @hanniesroom ; @readeryn68 ; @queenofsimps001 ; @mai1em ; @demonzgutzz ; @sleepy-x-snake ; @xxang3|zz ; @decadentcrusadefun ; @shhhstar ; @n3ptOnee ; @nxcx|Ixsevens

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4vanaa · 16 days ago

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FROM THE SIDELINES! | 08

| A RAFE CAMERON SMAU

PAIRING: basketball player!rafe cameron x podcaster!reader

SUMMARY: you’re a cohost for your college’s sports podcast, where your playful commentary about star basketball player rafe cameron gains attention. under pressure from your strict father, the university president, you agree to fake date rafe, who also needs to clean up his image in time for his draft.

Masterlist

PREVIOUS | NEXT

CW: mature themes, it ftb but still mdni, y/n sleeps with someone other than rafe!!!

a/n: saddle up, this is long for no reason, but i guess everything’s bigger/longer in texas 🤠🤠

You’re perched at the bar, half-listening to Cleo and Kie as your phone vibrates. You glance at the screen and see a DM from none other than, Harris Fuller. You debate on ignoring it, but curiosity wins.

11:59 PM

Fuller: That dress is dangerous, Y/N. You’re either trying to kill me or you’re just cruel.

You: Dangerous? That’s rich coming from the guy who couldn’t even keep up on the court.

12:01 AM

Fuller: You’re cute when you’re cocky. Wonder what other sounds I could get out of you if I got my hands on you.

Your heart skips a beat, heat creeping up your neck. You glance across the room, and there he is—leaning against a high-top table, his eyes shamelessly dragging down your figure. Your phone buzzes again before you can respond.

Fuller: Come on, sweetheart. You’ve been teasing me all night. Let me give you something to really smirk about.

You bite your lip, tapping out a response.

12:03 AM

You: You sure you can handle me? Didn’t look like you could handle much earlier.

12:04 AM

Fuller: Trust me, I can handle you just fine. The real question is whether you can handle me.

Your breath catches, your body heating at the boldness of his words. You’re about to lock your phone when another message pops up.

12:05 AM

Fuller: I’ve been thinking about how you’d look under me all night. Care to make it a reality?

Your stomach flips, your thighs pressing together involuntarily. You glance at Cleo and Kie, who are deep in conversation, before typing back.

12:07 AM

You: Big words for a sore loser. What makes you think you’re worth my time?

Fuller: Because I’d have you screaming my name before you could even think about stopping me. And I’d make damn sure you didn’t want to.

Your pulse races as you read the message, and when you look up, his dark gaze is locked on you from across the room. He smirks, raising his glass in a silent dare. You exhale slowly, typing back.

12:10 AM

You: Prove it.

12:11 AM

Fuller: Outside. Five minutes. Don’t make me wait, Y/N. I’ve got a lot to show you.

The night air hits your skin as soon as you step outside, your breath hitching in anticipation. The hum of the bar fades behind you, replaced by the sound of boots on pavement. You turn to find Fuller already there, his lips tugging into a cocky grin as he saunters closer.

"Didn’t think you’d actually show." He says his voice low and teasing.

Crossing your arms, your tone sharp,"You’re the one who begged me to."

"Oh, sweetheart, I don’t beg. I take."

You rolled her eyes, but it did little to mask the warmth pooling low in your stomach. “You’re so full of yourself, Fuller.”

He stepped closer, the space between you disappearing, his cologne wrapping around you like a second skin. “You say that like you don’t love it,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your back straightened instinctively, your arms tightening over her chest as you tried to maintain your composure. “Maybe I just wanted to see if you’re as good at backing up all that talk as you think you are.”

His laugh was quiet, deep, and far too knowing. He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm before sliding down to your waist. The touch was casual, but the heat of it lingered, spreading through her like wildfire.

“Baby,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “I’m better.”

You hated how easily he got under your skin, how his confidence wasn’t just arrogant but seductive, pulling you into his orbit without you even realizing it. Your breath caught as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmured, his voice like gravel, low and commanding. “And I’ll walk away right now.”

Your chest heaves as you stare into his eyes, the heat in his gaze almost overwhelming. You don’t say anything, your silence all the permission he needs. His lips crash into yours, firm and demanding, his hands gripping your hips as he presses you back against the brick wall. You gasp into his mouth, your fingers curling into his shirt as the kiss deepens.

He pulls back just enough to speak, his voice rough, "Knew you’d taste this sweet."

You don’t respond, too caught up in the way his hands roam your body, his touch unapologetically confident. His lips trail down your neck, nipping at your skin as you arch against him, a soft sound escaping your lips.

Breathlessly, your voice shaky you ask, “Still all talk?"

He chuckles darkly, his teeth grazing your jaw, "You haven’t seen anything yet."

He grips your thigh, lifting it to hook around his waist as his mouth claims yours again, your bodies pressed so tightly together you can feel every inch of him. The world fades away, leaving only the electric heat between you as his hands explore your curves, each touch igniting a fire that threatens to consume you.

Your back aches against the rough brick wall, but the sensation barely registers over the heat of Fuller’s lips moving against yours. His hands are everywhere—on your hips, sliding down to grip your thighs, pulling you closer like he can’t get enough. The cool night air does little to temper the heat radiating between them, your breaths coming faster with every calculated touch.

His lips trail to your ear, his voice rough and low, "You gonna keep pretending you don’t want me, or are you ready to admit I’m exactly what you need tonight?"

Your nails dig into his shoulders as you try to catch your breath, your lips tingling from the intensity of his kiss. You hate how easily he’s gotten under your skin, but the fire in your veins tells you there’s no walking away now.

"I don’t need you for anything, Fuller." You say breathless, your voice challenging.

He grins against your skin, his teeth grazing against your jawline, "That so? Then why are you letting me touch you like this?"

His hand slides higher, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate patterns along the hem of your dress, teasing the bare skin of your thigh. Your breath hitches, your legs instinctively tightening around him as he presses his body firmly against yours.

Your voice falters, “Maybe I’m just curious if you’re worth the hype."

He chuckles darkly, his fingers dipping just beneath the fabric, "Guess I’ll have to show you, then."

He captures your lips again, this time slower, more deliberate, his tongue sweeping against yours in a way that makes your knees weak. His hand moves higher, his touch firm and confident as his fingers brush against your most sensitive spot. You gasp into his mouth, your head falling back against the wall as his name slips from your lips before you can stop it.

"Harris…" you say softly, almost in a whisper.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as he watches your face, his smirk nowhere to be found now—only raw intensity.

His voice a husky growl, "That’s it, sweetheart. Say it again."

Your hands grip his shirt, your head spinning as his touch sends a shiver through your entire body. You’ve never felt this way before—completely out of control, consumed by him and the way he’s unraveling you with every calculated move. He leans in again, his lips brushing your ear.

"I told you… everything’s bigger in Texas."

Your laugh is breathless, shaky, but it turns into a moan as he presses his hips into yours, letting you feel exactly what he means. The heat between you is suffocating now, and you know you should stop this—shouldn’t let him get to you like this—but the way he’s touching you makes rational thought impossible.

"Big talk. You better live up to it," you say half-teasing, your voice trembling..

He grins as his hands grip your waist firmly, "Oh, I will. Just don’t forget who made you feel this way."

And with that, he lifts you easily, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you toward the shadows, the world around them fading completely as the night becomes yours alone.

a/n: honestly i didn’t mean to write out the full scene between her and fuller, i was just going to mention it in a later chapter, but i watched baby girl the other day so…. also he’s just serving as a plot device. and this is a hit and dip scenario, no feelings are shared between y/n and fuller!!! i want to learn write full on explicit, descriptive scenes but this is the best i could give you. 😔 i apologize if this completely sucks and you don’t wanna read this series anymore, i understand 🙂‍↔️🙂‍↔️

🏷️ : @fruitcakerafe @akobx @lilithblackkk @ultraviollett @drewsephrry @sereneera @ethanthequeefqueen @marleymarleymarleymarley @dylsdaily @inthelibrarybtw @redstappen @orangerafe

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donutz · 1 year ago

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Yandere Catnap x female smiling critter cat reader

Request from Wattpad—! Here you go Shaymi999☆

You weren’t the only cat out of the smiling critters.

There was another one, Catnap. Though, you were very much like him.

You were barely any different from him! The only difference is that you were a girl(and maybe the color, it depends on what color you want to be).

You were quiet, sneaky, hid in the dark, interacted with others, but not so happily. Even if it looked like you hated being at Playtime co, it wasn’t that bad here.

Other than the abusive workers.

And Catnap stalking you.

You didn’t find it that creepy, but it did annoy you a little bit. Why couldn’t he just interact with you? Yet you caught him looking at you every time.

Cat instincts, that’s all. Y’know, maybe he wanted you gone because he wants to be the only cat critter.

You’ll just have to wait.

There would be times where you tried to talk to him, but he’d just walk away.

You don’t know why, he could at least just listen to you. Makes you feel a little sad.

Of course, somebody noticed. That was Dogday.

“Mew, you’ve been seeming kind of down these days, are you alright?”

“... Yea, it’s just that. Catnap’s been ignoring me. I try to talk to him, but he just walks away.”

Dogday furrowed his eyebrows a little, pretty disappointed in Catnap’s actions.

“Oh alright, I’ll try to talk about it with him..”

“Oh, thanks Dogday.”

After that, you caught Catnap right behind you staring at you. It happened quite often.

… At least he wasn’t hiding in the shadows.

But now, 10 years later, he’s always in the shadows.

And 10 years later, you’re here, roaming the halls just like Catnap. You wish you could check up on Dogday, but you can’t Catnap’s too possessive.

If you even tried to sneak around to talk to him, Dogday would be dead the next hour. Not from Catnap’s hands, but from the smaller critters' mouths.

You wish you could just see your best friend one last time.

But you can, just this one time. Why? So you could alert Dogday that his body will be taken over by the smaller critters.

The tinies were listening in of course, excited to finally get their fill.

Why does the only time you get to talk to him the time where you tell him how he dies? Sometimes you wished Catnap wasn’t so possessive. You feel as if he would trust Dogday but— apparently you were wrong.

“Oh.. I guess I’ll have to prepare for the future.”

You wish you could rub your head against his and tell him it’s okay. You wish you didn’t have to tell him the way he dies. You wish you could’ve just passed like the other critters.

What made you so special?

“...” You would’ve told him you’re sorry, but you know Catnap was watching. He would’ve told the smaller critters to make Dogday’s death more painful and slow.

You just want him to be put out of his misery. He could’ve just agreed with serving the prototype and he would’ve lived.

But that’s not the Dogday you know.

And apparently, the player arrived so you have to go.

Even if they were already dealing with the smaller demonic version of the Smiling Critters, Catnap was determined to kill them. Or, to hunt he says.

Catnap wants to kill the player, but wouldn’t mind you doing it instead.

Unfortunately, there were hiding spots in the play area. The place where there’s different colored blocks and random holes that the small ones come from.

You were looking for the player, and since you saw the hiding spots, you looked in them. After some time you finally spotted them.

You grabbed them and threw them on the ground. They used their grab pack and grabbed at your eye. You tried to stop them by grabbing their face, but the hand took your eye out of its place.

And for some reason that singular eye was heavily connected to the organs in your system.

The player scurried towards a possible exit in the place, and ran, leaving you to die by yourself.

Catnap thought you could handle it yourself. But you didn’t.

Not only did you being dead anger him even more. But he didn’t want to hunt anymore, he wanted to torture and kill that stupid player.

He loved you so much that he didn’t even give up your body to the Prototype. You weren’t just some toy, you were his love.

Thankfully, the Prototype accepted the fact Catnap wanted to keep you.

After that, every way Catnap planned just to spook the player, wasn’t just giving them a little scare anymore. It was supposed to terrify them. To make them feel threatened.

To make them scream whenever he came near them.

He even released his red gas to make them have horrific hallucinations.

He nearly killed them, but didn’t, he wanted them to go through the pain he experienced.

But no matter how much torture they went through, it will never make up for the death they caused.

It will never replace your death.

It will never make him as happy as he was when you made him happy.

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schemmentigfs · 21 days ago

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Sweetening The Deal. (part 11.)

Summary: your first time with Melissa Schemmenti is the equivalent of paradise on its purest form.

tags: @lifeismomentsyoucannotunderstand @lisaannwaltersbra @italianaidiota @kukikatt @dopenightmaretyphoon @schmentisgf @pitstopsapphic @jeridandridge @aliensuperst4rr

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10.

Good girl. Those words easily made your heart stop.

When Melissa Schemmenti calls you her good girl, your heart stirs, like a soft breeze brushing over still water. It’s not just a phrase; it’s a tender thread that weaves through the fabric of your very soul, a gentle, sweet ache that dances between your ribs and settles deep in your chest. It’s an affirmation, one that feels like a secret, only between you and her, a promise in her voice that wraps around you like a warm embrace.

The words slip from the redheaded woman’s lips with such ease, but for you, they carry weight, like a whispered prayer, as if you are hearing it for the first time, yet it's a song you have known all your life. It’s not the words themselves but the way they make you feel—a delicate, almost fragile thing, cherished in its own raw vulnerability. The simplicity of it makes you feel seen, in a way that nothing else can. Like the world outside has quieted, leaving only the space between their hearts, where you are both held and adored, soft but strong.

You have always been wary of your own worth, but in that moment, when she speaks those two words, it feels as though the air around you is charged, thick with the warmth of unconditional acceptance. It’s a balm to the wounds you hide so carefully, a kind of softness that pierces through you, unraveling the pieces of yourself that were once too guarded. It’s not submission but a gentle surrender—one that she offers freely, knowing it is not demanded but given, as a gift, as a love so complete it makes her tremble.

As red lips and flat tongue trail down your folds, every inch of your skin ignites with sensation, a heat that spreads like wildfire. The feeling is intimate, consuming, every touch of this mouth marking you as hers. It’s not just physical; it’s a slow unraveling, a delicate surrender to the pleasure that only Melissa knows how to give.

There’s a rawness in it, an intensity that draws every part of her attention to the present moment, to the way she moves with such purpose, with such reverence. Every breath you take is sharp, caught somewhere between longing and release, as her warmth spreads over your most sensitive and delicate parts.

Your body arches instinctively, seeking more, chasing the heady mixture of tenderness and heat. The contrast between the green eyed woman’s pure softness and the firm press of her tongue causes your mind to scatter, every thought becoming a blur, except for the overwhelming sensation of being loved in this way. It’s not just physical pleasure, but something deeper—a melding of their souls, a raw and beautiful intimacy that goes beyond skin. The rhythm of her mouth is rhythmic, almost hypnotic, drawing her deeper into the abyss of pleasure and trust.

Your hands clutch the sheets, the cool fabric grounding you as every nerve in your body sings with want. The feeling of Melissa’s pink tongue, so deliberate and skilled, makes you pulse with a kind of desperate need, one that only this moment, only this connection can fill. This is where you belong—here, in those strong arms, in the softness of her touch and the strength of her love. The world outside of this room, outside of this bond, no longer exists. There is only this, only the deep trust you feel in the way she takes her time, in the way she listens to your body and answers with devotion.

As Melissa continues, each movement, each kiss on your most sensitive parts, feels like a prayer, a reverent act of worship, and you can’t help but surrender completely, allowing yourself to be consumed, to be adored in this way. Your heart races in tandem with the rhythm of their intimacy, the pressure building inside, a delicious tension that tightens in your chest and lower belly. The pleasure swells inside you, and with every stroke, every subtle shift of her mouth, you are definitely overwhelmed with the sensation of being both cherished and owned. Good girl is still in your ears, and it hums within you like a constant echo, reminding you of the love that laces every action, every touch.

Her tongue finds its destination with deliberate precision, the warm, wet pressure against your harden clit drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. It’s not gentle, not tentative—Schemmenti knows exactly what she’s doing, and the confidence in her movements sends a jolt of electricity through your body. Your thighs tremble, but the redhead’s manicured hands are there, firm and steady, gripping your hips and thighs to hold you in place, as if grounding you to this moment. Her grip is possessive, her nails pressing just enough to leave a hint of sensation that only adds to the overwhelming pleasure.

A sweet sound of Melissa’s needy moan vibrates against your pussy, and the sensation sends your head spinning, back arching off the mattress as a raw curse spills from you. “Fuck, baby. That tounge feels so good.”

The words come out breathless, broken, and you can barely recognize your own voice. The heat pooling in your belly intensifies as your possible girlfriend’s tongue moves in perfect rhythm, flicking and circling your clit, each motion calculated to pull you closer and closer to the edge.

The older woman doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter. Instead, she hums softly, almost smugly, against you, the vibrations shooting sparks of pleasure up your damn spine. Moans mix with the wet, sinful sounds of her mouth working tirelessly, and the combination is enough to drive you wild. Your palms clutch at the sheets again, twisting them as your body writhes, caught between trying to pull away from the intensity and pressing closer to ride Melissa’s sinful mouth.

“Goddamn, Lis, please—” your voice is ragged, laced with desperation, the words slipping out between sharp breaths. Your figure is alight, every nerve ending focused on the way Melissa’s tongue lavishes attention on your clit, alternating between firm, slow strokes and quick, teasing flicks. Hands tighten on your shaky thighs, pulling them even wider apart as if she needs more of you, all of you. The possessiveness in her grip, the raw hunger in her moans, sends shivers down your soul spine, teetering on the brink.

Her relentless tongue doesn’t falter for a second, but soon, you feel the unmistakable press of her fingers, teasing at your dripping entrance. It’s slow at first, deliberate, as though Melissa is savoring every moment of your unraveling. The sensation of her sucking and circling your pebble paired with the gentle, probing touch of her digits pulls a broken moan from your throat, her body convulsing as you gasp for air.

Green eyes look at you while she takes her time, sliding one finger in, curling it perfectly to find that spot that makes more curses spill out uncontrollably. “Fuck, Melissa, oh my—”

Your tone is trembling, desperate, every word dragged out by the pleasure coursing through you. She grunts against your tight cunt in response, the vibrations sparking another jolt of electricity through your core. The thing is she knows exactly what she’s doing, knows how to pull you apart with maddening precision.

“Such a good girl for me,” Melissa murmurs against you, her tone husky and dripping with affection, even as she adds a second finger, stretching just enough to make you whine sharply. Her praise, her touch—it’s too much and not enough all at once, and your hips buck against her, seeking more, chasing the fire that’s building higher and higher inside you.

The redhead’s grip on your thighs tightens, keeping you steady as her fingers pump in and out in perfect rhythm, her mouth leaving your clit to lick and plug your entrance. The combination is dizzying, every thrust pushing you closer to the edge, every flick sending you spiraling further into bliss. She moans again, the sound satisfying and deep, vibrating through you in a way that makes your whole vision blur.

“Babe,” you grab her auburn curls as tightly as you can. “I need to cum, please.”

You pant and break, words dissolving into a sharp cry as fingers curl just right, hitting that spot with an intensity that leaves you shaking. It feels like everything it’s on fire, every nerve alight with sexual tension, your mind lost in the sensation of Melissa Ann Catarina Schemmenti consuming you completely. The pure wet, obscene sounds of fingers moving inside you combined with the strong scent of sex filling the bedroom, soft hum of her tongue on your pussy it’s overwhelming, intoxicating.

Melissa looks up briefly, her olive eyes blazing with hunger, the sight alone enough to make you tremble. “C’mon, pretty girl,” she commands. “Let me feel you. Cum for me.”

This is the final push, and with one last nurse of her tongue, one perfect thrust of her fingers, you fall apart completely, your figure shuddering violently as the climax of the orgasm rips through you. Curses melt into incoherent cries and screams, your hips trembling as the forty-five year old holds you through it, her mouth and fingers working her through every wave of pleasure until you’re left trembling and begging for rest.

Minutes pass and she pulls away just long enough to hover over you, her breath heavy and ragged as her hands grip your hips, positioning you just right. She spreads your legs wide, guiding you into position so that your bodies can press together, your clits brushing softly at first, then harder, the friction sending a rush of heat through both of you. It’s new, unfamiliar—raw and intimate—and every touch, every shift makes it feel like the world is unraveling around you and her.

Your heart stops at the first contact, the electric spark between you making your stomach tighten. Melissa moans loud, her eyes fluttering closed as the sensation builds, as your pussies slide against each other in a maddening rhythm. The sound is guttural, needy, like a prayer escaping her lips. Her hands grip your thighs, her fingers digging in as if she’s trying to hold on to this moment, but nothing feels like it’s enough. Nothing is slow enough, soft enough.

“God, fuck, you feel so good,” the older woman gasps, shaky and raw, her tone breathless and frantic as she rolls her hips against yours, feeling your buds rub together in an agonizingly slow, steady motion. Olive eyes flutter open, locking with yours, and she watches your face, her mouth parted with each breathless whimper that escapes.

“Melly,” you try to speak but she interrupts quickly.

“You like this? Yeah, I know you do. So fuckin’ perfect,” Melissa groans, her pupils blow with desire. “Jesus, you’re making me lose my mind.”

Your own breath is ragged, your nails scratching her curves as both bodies grind together. The friction is intense, and yet the two of you seem to hold back, not letting the release come too soon. You are caught in the building pressure, each movement pushing further toward the edge without quite letting you fall.

“Ohh shit, yes, yes, yes!” your body shudders as you try to hold on, but Melissa doesn’t let you escape. She keeps pushing, keeps rolling her hips harder against yours— almost bouncing—every moment an invitation to something more.

She breaks, her moan deep and drawn out, almost a growl. “Don’t you dare cum yet, baby,” she whispers desperately. “I need to give you permission first.”

The redheaded woman forces herself to slow down, to keep the pressure building, her green eyes rolling back in her head as she tries to hold onto the feeling without giving in. The heat builds and builds, your bodies slick with sweat, and each brush against each other sends both of you spiraling closer to the orgasm without releasing.

“Please...” you beg while trembling with need, hips rising to meet each press of hers, desperate for more. The tension is unbearable, both of you are teetering on the brink, lost in the feeling of each other’s bodies so close, so intertwined.

Melissa can hardly breathe, her movements becoming frantic as she chases the same release that you do, but neither gives in. “Holy fuck, honey, I can’t—” she gasps, her voice a broken plea, as her hips grind harder, faster, chasing the feeling, losing herself in your warmth. “You are so sweet, so warm. So delicious.”

The sexual tension is obvious, like a coil tightening, but then, a small shift in the way you move catches her off guard—your hand slides down, palm flat, and then wraps around the curve of her pale ass, squeezing it firmly. The sudden touch sends a jolt of heat through the sicilian, a wave of arousal that makes her entire body tighten with want.

She whimpers, louder now, her lashes fluttering as the sensation of your hand on her ass forces her to slow down just for a moment, savoring the feeling of being held, of being claimed in such an intimate way after a long time. The pressure of your palm is possessive, urgent, and it stirs something deep within Melissa. She can feel your fingertips digging into the flesh of her ass, the way it moves in a slow, teasing circle, feeling the curve and muscle beneath her skin. It’s like a spark, igniting the very core of her desire.

Your grip on her ass tightens, squeezing again, pulling her closer, and Melissa’s breath catches in her throat. The touch is everything—dominant, possessive, and incredibly tender all at once—and it sends shivers down her spine. It makes her feel raw, vulnerable, as if this connection is something far more than just sex. It’s an unspoken claim, a promise, a shared understanding.

“For fuck’s sake. Keep touching me like that," the redhead gasps, her breath hitching as she moves against you. ”I need you, amore. I need you... so bad.”

The connection deepens with every touch, every movement. It’s like you’re both desperately holding on to each other, not wanting to break the spell, not yet ready to give in completely. The heat between you grows unbearable, as the beautiful Melissa Schemmenti continues to feel the steady pressure of your hand, the way you hold her, owns her in this moment. Every stroke, every grind, pulls you both closer and closer to the release you can’t hold off much longer.

And just like that a single word escapes from your deep throat, breathy and trembling, a word that sends an electric shock through her entire body. “Mommy.”

The title hits Melissa like a punch to the gut, a shock of raw desire shooting through her veins. She freezes for a second. She stops. She swears she can feel her heart skip a beat, her mind barely able to process how right it sounds coming from your lips.

The way you say it, soft but desperate, the word laced with something possessive and needy, ignites something deep inside of her. A wave of heat floods her body, her core tightening with an almost primal lust. Mommy—green eyes flash with something else, something raw and untamed as the word reverberates in her head, making her head spin. She’s been called Mommy before by other women and men, but never like this—not with such unrestrained need, such will. It’s as if you poured your entire soul into that single word, and it wraps around Melissa like a vice, pulling her deeper into this moment. Her breathing fails, her manicured hands trembling slightly before they grip you tighter, her hips grinding down harder as the sensation threatens to undo her completely.

The green eyed woman groans, before she’s leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, her mouth hot and demanding. The kiss is intense, filled with heat and Melissa can’t stop herself from pulling you closer, deepening the kiss as her fingers dig into your flushed skin.

“Fuck, don’t say that,” she growls against your mouth. “You’re gonna make me insane.” The plea come out between hungry kisses, her lips hot against yours, as she starts to kiss you more fiercely, more urgently. Each time your lips meet, she can feel the tension rising, her body on the edge of giving in completely. She bites down on your lower lip, tugging it gently, as her hands slide to your hips, guiding her into a rhythm that makes both shudder.

“Mommy, please fuck me,” you whine, seeking for more.

“Mommy....goddamn,” Melissa curses, the satisfaction in her voice unmistakable. She can’t control the way her body reacts to the word, the way it pulls her deeper into the moment, closer to the madness of this connection. It feels like a dangerous secret, a boundary crossed, and she can’t help but kiss you harder, more desperately.

Bodies move against each other, the friction making the world blur around you, your kisses messy and frantic as the two of you chase that dizzying height. Your hand grips auburn curls, tugging her closer, urging her to continue, and with every touch, every kiss, the Schemmenti woman feels herself unraveling more, her control slipping.

“You like that, don’t you?” she prompts between kisses. “You like calling me Mommy.”

“I-I do,” you agree as the intensity of the moment overwhelms you. The way Melissa is kissing you, everything about this feels urgent, almost desperate. It’s as though you are both clinging to something, unwilling to let go, pushing forward without hesitation.

The redheaded woman sees the nod, the silent agreement, and her body takes over, moving faster, harder, the rhythm building into something electric. She lets out a breathy moan, feeling your body press into hers, the friction becoming a steady wave of pleasure that floods through her. Each thrust, each roll of her hips, makes feel like her control is slipping, losing its grip as she pushes harder, her figure desperate for cumming.

“Holy fuck, this is the best thing I ever felt in all my life,” Melissa grunts.

She moves faster, her movements becoming more frantic, more intense. She feels your hands clutching at her back, pulling her closer, encouraging her to go deeper, to give you more. The pace quickens, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the air as her sharp nails dig in, guiding your movements as you become almost frantic in their need for each other.

“Say it again,” the older woman breathes, her words a desperate plea, her mouth hovering just over your ear. “Call me mommy again, and I’ll make you feel so good.”

“Mommy,” you smile softly and the word along with the grin has the power to send Melissa into a frenzy.

“That’s it,” she mutters. “Fuck, you’re mine. All mine.”

The speed escalates as the pressure mounts, Melissa’s movements become more urgent. Her breath hitches, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she feels herself on the edge, just a moment away from falling into the intensity of your shared climax.

Her face twists, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through her usually composed exterior. It’s a moment of rawness, of surrender, and it’s impossible for her to hide it. The muscles in her jaw tighten as she moans softly, her lips parting as she gasps for air. Her olive eyes, usually so full of control, now glimmer with something desperate, something wild. Her brows furrow in pleasure, her mouth opening as she chokes out a low, broken curse.

“Fuck,” she gasps barely more than a breath. “I’m going to cum. Please babygirl, make Mommy come.” The look on her face, that unmistakable sign of the climax building inside her, makes her pant harder. She presses her forehead against yours, lips barely brushing as she moves faster, harder, chasing the moment she knows is about to explode.

You see it—see the raw expression on her symmetrical face, the way her muscles strain, the way she’s losing herself in the intensity of their connection. It’s a moment of pure vulnerability, one that strips away any walls, any barriers. And it only drives you to meet her with equal fervor, pushing both to the edge, to the precipice of everything you have been building.

Melissa’s grip tightens, her breathing becoming ragged as she lets out a strangled cry. It’s clear now—she’s right there, on the edge, and everything inside her is unraveling in waves of heat. Her glistening lips part, her green eyes half-closed, and for a moment, she’s lost to the intensity of it, no longer able to hold back, no longer caring if she shows how close she is.

In that moment, it’s impossible to ignore the raw, unfiltered truth in her expression. She’s coming undone, and it’s the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.

As you and her reach the edge, the tension in the air snaps, and everything comes crashing down in waves. Melissa’s curvy body tenses as her breath catches in her throat, the rush of pleasure flooding through her. She gasps, a low, guttural moan escaping her lips as she finally gives in, her body shuddering uncontrollably on top of you. Her grip loosens slightly, her hand falling to the bed as she breathes out a string of curses, the overwhelming sensation of release pulling her further into the moment.

You follow close behind, the feeling of your souls and bodies connecting, sending you spiraling into your own climax. It’s like an explosion, a wave of warmth and satisfaction that fills you completely.

When it’s over, when the tremors slowly fade, Melissa pulls away, her body slumping back onto the bed. She rolls onto her back, her arm coming over her eyes to shield herself from the harsh light. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, each breath coming in quick, shallow gasps as the aftermath of everything lingers in her body. She feels exhausted, her muscles sore, but it’s a good kind of ache.

“Jesus Mary and Joseph…” the redhead giggles on a hushed rasp. She doesn’t even move at first, letting herself bask in the quiet aftermath, feeling the soft sheets beneath her. The world feels like it’s slowed down, like time has stopped for just a moment, and she can finally catch her breath.

Her arm remains across her eyes, a shield from the vulnerability she feels in the aftermath. It’s not shame, not exactly—just the rawness of the moment, of everything she just shared. She’s always been one to keep her composure, to stay in control, but now, in this quiet afterglow, she lets herself be a little exposed.

“Fuck..” she says again, quieter this time, as she tries to steady her breathing, still feeling the thrum of their connection coursing through her. “That was...” She doesn’t finish the sentence. Words feel unnecessary now, and instead, she just exhales deeply, her arm slowly lowering as she lets herself relax into the bed, her chest rising and falling slowly with each breath.

Slowly, you reach out, her fingers gentle as you brush it against Melissa’s arm, sliding it away from her face.

The forty-five year old doesn’t resist. She lets you uncover her, her arm falling limply to the side, revealing flushed cheeks and strands of auburn hair sticking to her damp forehead. Her skin glistens with sweat, and her lips are parted slightly, still swollen from the kisses. Olive eyes flutter open, hazy and dazed, and for a moment, she just stares back at you, her breathing still uneven.

You cup her face delicately, thumbs brushing over the soft, warm skin of her cheeks. The sight of her like this—vulnerable, flushed, and utterly spent—sends a wave of affection through you. Melissa Schemmenti, who’s always so composed and in control, now looks completely undone, her green eyes soft and filled with something unspoken

“You’re so beautiful,” you sigh quitely.

Red lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smile. “You're staring,” though there’s no real protest behind the words. If anything, there’s a softness there, a quiet vulnerability she rarely shows.

“I can’t help it. You’re... breathtaking like this.”

The woman chuckles weakly, the sound more like a breathless exhale. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” Her hand comes up to rest over yours, holding it gently against her cheek. She leans into the touch, letting herself relax completely for the first time, her walls completely down.

Hours later, the night casted shadows that danced on the walls. Melissa and you lay tangled together in the aftermath of everything, your bodies entwined in a warm cocoon of sheets and limbs. She was resting her head on your chest, her body draped over yours, her soft breaths creating a gentle rhythm as she pressed her lips to your skin in the quiet moments between kisses.

“You're my beautiful girl,” your lover whispered, the praise full of meaning, more intimate than anything she had said before. She lifted her head just enough to look into your eyes, her expression tender, her auburn hair tousled from the night. Her fingers brushed against your cheek, tracing the curve of your jaw as if memorizing the feel of you.

“Yeah?” you prompted nervously but still gently.

“Actually…my girlfriend,” the redheaded woman added, her voice a little more tentative, but no less genuine.

A soft giggle bubbled up from your chest as you shifted, bringing her closer as you rolled onto your side, your arms wrapped around her waist. You kissed her again, slow and sweet, not rushed but languid, the kind of kiss that carried everything you couldn’t quite put into words.

The weight of the moment was heavy in the best way possible, and you found yourself smiling as your fingers tangled in her hair. “I love you.”

For a split second, the world seemed to stop. Melissa gulped, her eyes widening, searching yours as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. Her lips parted, and for a moment, she looked lost in thought, her gaze flickering between your eyes, her hands trembling where they rested on your body.

Then, without warning, tears welled up in her olive eyes, the dam breaking as she blinked rapidly. “Oh my god,” she breathed. She buried her face against your chest, her sobs quiet but intense, as though she were overwhelmed by the weight of your confession.

You held her tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as she shook with the force of her emotions. “It’s okay,” you whispered, your voice soothing, comforting, as she clung to you, her breath hitching with each sob.

“I—” Melissa gasped, her words caught in her throat as she lifted her head to look at you again, her face streaked with tears but glowing with something else—something radiant. “I love you, too. I love you so much, my beautiful angel.”

You smiled, the weight of everything—of the love, the joy, the uncertainty that had once been there—feeling lighter than air now. With her in your arms, everything finally made sense.

After a long deserved rest, the morning light of dawn crept into the bedroom, painting it in muted shades of gold and pink and casting a glow over the rumpled sheets and tangled limbs on the bed. Melissa stirred first, letting out a groan as her body reminded her of the intensity of the night before. Every muscle seemed to ache in the most delicious way, and she stretched out slowly, wincing slightly. Her hair was a wild mess, a lion’s mane of auburn curls sticking out in every direction, and her eyes were barely open as she sat up, scratching the back of her head.

She looked over at you, still fast asleep, your face serene and buried in the pillows. A faint smile tugged at her lips as she took in the sight of you—her beautiful girl, her girlfriend. The title still felt new and thrilling in her mind, making her chest tighten with warmth.

The redheaded woman swung her legs over the side of the bed, groaning softly again as she stood up, wrapping her silk robe around her sore body. She padded barefoot into the kitchen, craving the comfort of a cigarette and something sweet. Spotting a bowl of fresh strawberries on the counter, she plucked a few, popping one into her mouth as she slid the glass door open and stepped onto the villa’s terrace.

The cool air hit her freckled skin, waking her up slightly as she lit her cigarette with practiced ease. The first drag calmed her, and she exhaled a long stream of smoke, leaning against the railing. The view of the lake below was breathtaking, but her thoughts were far from the scenery.

She reached for her phone on the patio table, scrolling through her contacts until she found the name she was looking for. With a quick tap, the call began ringing, and soon, the familiar, warm voice of Pearl came through the line.

“Missy? What’re you doin’ calling me this early? Did somethin’ happen?” The housekeeper’s voice carried its usual mix of care and mild irritation, like a mother fussing over a grown child.

“Well,” Melissa began, her voice still raspy from sleep, “you won’t believe what happened last night.” She sounded like a teenager sharing a secret, the awe and excitement in her tone undeniable.

“Oh, this I gotta hear. Lemme guess—your girl finally made you stop actin’ like a fool?”

The youngest laughed, taking another drag of her cigarette before blowing the smoke out slowly. “Yeah. She’s my girl now, officially. God, Pearl, she’s... she’s somethin’ else.” Her free hand gestured vaguely, as if trying to articulate something too big for words. “We stayed up talkin’, kissin’, touchin’—you know. And I swear, I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before.”

A low hum of approval camethrough the phone. “About time, Mel. You’ve been floatin’ around, scared of commitment, for too long. This one’s different, huh?”

Melissa nodded, even though Pearl couldn’t see her. “Yeah. She’s different. She makes me feel... alive. Like I’ve been waitin’ for her my whole damn life.” She paused, her voice growing softer. “She called me her angel. Can you believe that? Me? An angel.”

“Well, you better treat her right, then. No runnin’, no hidin’. Just love her, Melissa.”

“I will,” the green eyed woman promised, popping another strawberry into her mouth and savoring the sweetness. “I’m all in, P. No more games.”

They chatted a little longer before Melissa ended the call, feeling lighter and more certain than ever. She flicked her cigarette into the ashtray, wiped her hands on her robe, and padded back inside, her bare feet making soft sounds against the tiled floor.

When she entered the bedroom, the sight of you still curled up in bed made her heart skip a beat. She slipped off her robe, letting it pool on the floor, and quietly locked the door behind her. The breeze was warm against her naked self as she slid back under the covers, her body naturally gravitating toward yours.

You stirred slightly, your face instinctively nuzzling against her stomach, hiding there like it was the safest place in the world. Your girlfriend chuckled softly, running her fingers through your hair as she sighed, feeling a wave of tenderness wash over her.

“You’re so precious to me, you know that?” she pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You hummed sleepily, your arms wrapping around her waist as you pulled her closer, and Melissa couldn’t help but smile, her heart swelling with a love that felt almost too big for her chest.

This was home. This was everything.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x y/n #lisa ann walter #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #sorry if this looks off #it's been a while since my soft smut era

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