#Diana Prince x fem!reader

[apocalypse-shuffle]

DIANA PRINCE | WONDER WOMAN (the flashpoint paradox)

—

“The Messenger Bird Sings” (Diana Prince x Fem!Reader)

| Infiltrating Themyscira to save a resistance member is a disaster. But it leads to unexpected consequences when the Queen captures you.

| SFW, open ending, infatuated!reader, (TW: captured!reader, spoils of war, unfettered murder), -dark!wonder woman

| pics via: Justice League: The Flashpoint Paradox animated movie

| Here’s a link to the scene this is based on. The words/dialogue that are mine are mine and the words that are from the movie are not mine.

| 2k+ words

Sneaking around New Themyscira is a feat you didn’t think you’d ever experience but, lo and behold, here you were.

The island was beautiful in a way that reminded you of what used to be. It’s battle torn, but the skies are still bright blue and the air’s still unnaturally fresh and fizzling with magic.

Even if it’s not the same as you're sure it’d be on the original “Paradise Island”, the residual effect of the Amazon’s whimsy sticks to the place like it was fated to be. Like their magic lays as much claim over this part of what used to be Europe as they do.

It’s a drastic contrast to the wreckage all around you all.

“Alright crew, we meet back at the ship by dusk. This is an evidence gathering retreat and extraction mission so stay out of sight and do not engage.” Steve’s command stays quiet through coms even as he shifts to giving out individual instructions next. His voice a steady balm that you lock onto to distract you enough you don’t have to keep biting back your grin.

─────

It’s hours before anything worthwhile than ducking and hiding takes place.

Initially Steve’s group was primarily tasked with direct extraction of Lois Lane from behind enemy lines but you had run into her, and a small number of other survivors hiding in the nature reclaimed remains of what used to be London, first.

Your branch-off specifically is just meant to be gathering enough tangible evidence that the Amazon’s are taking human hostages to finally push the last remaining world leader to actually let Steve’s task force move in to save them.

Years ago you’d thought politics was hard to navigate. Now it was a literal minefield, one wrong move and someone would take off your head.

You’re hoping at the very least your wrong move doesn’t happen here.

The Amazons were brutal. What little clear footage that still remained showed their killing prowess off well. They didn’t level cities the way the Atlanteans did, but at the beginning of all this they’d conquered their way across the Mediterranean in less than a week and no one had even noticed.

The Atlanteans were too loud, even put up against the Amazons brutality and true disdain for humanity. Especially men. Atlantis had taken over the European Coast with brute force and luck that their extremely obvious assault couldn’t be stopped by any human forces.

If the human world had been anywhere near as technologically advanced and superhuman you’re sure that Atlantis would’ve fallen that day. King Arthur had put all of his forces, after the Amazon’s had near silently ran them off, into conquering Europe’s waters but he’d made a gamble in doing so.

The Amazon’s didn’t gamble.

Call it years of godly military practice coming into play or whatever but the Amazon’s were a strategic power house. They blew through everything they wanted to as if it was parchment paper in a way that the Atlanteans and their ‘throw everything at it until it sticks’ strategy could never.

The Queen didn’t take whatever she wanted, the rumored start of the war in the first place, because she was careless.

“Pilgrim to Mayflower, we’ve been caught in an ambush—”

Your radio crackles to life on your hip. You turn to your team leader but she only shakes her head. She gestures for you all to get closer together. She’s following protocol, if you have to leave team ‘Pilgrim’ behind you have to wait in silence five minutes before doing so, but if you get a response in that period you have to call in for backup.

Beside you Lois’s quiet as she stares at the radio in Boston’s hand, lip between her teeth.

The following crackle three and a half minutes in makes you all jump.

“—it’s The Queen. The Queen’s with them!”

This time it’s not Steve’s voice but a woman from his group. The air rushes from your lungs.

Queen Diana of Themyscira wasn’t careless.

Something presses down on the receiver and the sounds of screaming and gunfire reach your ears. Right behind it cheers of triumph follow.

All distinctly feminine sounding.

The Queen took what she wanted without hesitation because she was self assured in her prowess.

“Dammit to hell,” Boston curses.

Your heart feels tight all of a sudden.

The Queen.

The same one who started a whole world war because she didn’t bow down to such pitiful quirks as apologizing. The Queen who allegedly wore the crown of the woman she killed as a trophy.

When that exact crown, Atlantean in nature, crests over a row of rubble from toppled buildings towards you the sight of that golden headrest becomes an omen.

The Amazon’s are ruthless when they reach you. There’s barely a triumphant yell afterwards the fight was so close to already won once it started. In fact it’d probably be an insult to the Goddess Artemis herself to call it a fight at all.

A mild squabble maybe.

Like a kitten might give a gangly boy throwing her into a box to slowly meet its death. Or the inevitable but hopeless life of a fly when around a flytrap.

The Amazon’s had gained on you too fast for women who were supposed to be on the other side of the island right now.

As you’re thrown into the middle of a circle of stern-faced Amazon’s with your team, knocking right into Steve and his remaining crew, you start to feel a lot like a fly trapped because of its need to further inspect a predator so unequivocally greater than itself.

Your eyes prickle and your breath squeezes past your throat, but as you watch the towering few women around you your heart thuds not with fear but revelation.

In person the Amazon’s were every bit as terrifying as the stories and mission reports made them out to be, then some. Their armor was chinked and dusted with the brutal effects of war and yet they still seemed to glow brighter than the overcast sun as they set their ire upon you.

It was a lesson in skill to be present for the way they fought up close. Every strike and simple step was so clearly packed full with power and yet they moved as one graceful unit, where one woman leaned right two more would work to balance back out the open circle till closed again like feathers in the wind.

They were seamless even as they taunted Steve, held in The Queen’s lasso as he was. The center of everyone’s attention.

Something shamefully akin to envy prods at you incessantly. You do your best to ignore it.

Your fists clench and unclench at your side as you watch the warriors playing with their food. Lois looks like she can’t decide whether to throw up or throw something. For the sake of all your lives you pray she only vomits.

“You’re all Americans,” Queen Diana points out before tightening her hold on the lasso. Steve is forced to rise up on his knees at the movement, hands going to his throat in a fruitless effort to pry off the rope choking him. “But you’re going to tell me a little more about yourself. Who are you and what is your group’s goal?”

For a few seconds you all watch as Steve just…doesn’t answer. Your eyes narrow. Maybe the rumors about The Queen’s lasso were actually just rumors this time around, you’re pretty sure a gift from the gods isn’t supposed to have user defects.

The other Amazon’s seem to think the same thing as five of them huddle closer to their leader and soft murmurs travel around you from the ones that remain vigil.

“He’s resisting the lasso of truth! How is that possible Queen Diana?”

The Queen looks offended, jaw tightening.

“It’s not,” she says before wrapping more of the lasso around her hand and pulling Steve up so they’re face to face, his toes dragging in the dirt. “Who are you and what are you and your people doing in New Themyscira?”

You all gasp. Off to the side Boston starts to struggle, cursing up a storm as Steve truly goes red in the face. You can’t not watch her a bit impassioned, you know what’ll happen next. One Amazon, red haired and incredibly angry looking, kicks her in the face so hard that by the time her body falls to the dirt you can all tell she’s dead. Face crunched to all hell as her lifeless body faces you.

You shiver and look away.

“This is an outrage,” Lois murmurs.

You don’t argue in any direction with her, just turn back to The Queen.

“Thank you for shutting her up, Artemis. Now back to you, I believe I asked you a question.”

Steve can barely put up a token protest, still actively choking, before he starts to spill everything.

“My name is Colonel Steve Trevor of the United States Special Forces. Me and my team, the second of which was headed by the woman you just killed, Colonel Boston Knight, were tasked with gathering information about your base and with the retrieval of Lois Lane.”

The Queen’s brows furrow, “Who is this Lois Lane?”

You close your eyes. You can feel the very woman stiffen where she’s crouched next to you. Your next breath in feels too much like a hiccup.

“Lois Lane is a Politzer prize winning journalist who has been embedded in New Themyscira to gather intel on your Amazons for Cyborg. She’s…she’s also one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met.”

Steve struggles, doing his best to clamp down on his jaw before some invisible force pries it back open and one of his trembling hands flick out to point. “And she’s over there.”

All eyes seem to shift to the woman no less than a foot away from you.

The Queen looks over at her with a haughty air as she takes in the new information.

“‘Most beautiful’ until me, that is,” she states while lowering him.

You're mesmerized as the glow of the lasso fades while she dismisses you all once again. The Queen’s attention quickly shifts to a blonde Amazon who nods and begins speaking immediately.

“Our information was correct, then, My Queen. Cyborg is amassing the outside world’s superhumans in an attempt to interfere in our war.”

“And he will fail,” her voice echoes across their foggy battlefield with surety. Wonder Woman scowls. “Now seize the Lane woman and take her back to our sanctum.”

“Yes, My Queen,” the blonde speaks up again as all the others quickly nod their assent.

Lois puts up a huge struggle, kicking out at a woman and briefly causing her to stumble before three more are on her. It takes a couple seconds before she stops, limbs twisted every which way as she’s held before the Queen’s unforgiving gaze.

She looks distinctly unimpressed as she and Lois stare down one another. The reporter definitely lived up to her reputation at least. Unfortunately so did Queen Diana.

“Go. I will deal with her later.”

They take Lois away and all you can do is watch.

The Queen glances over all of you again as the blonde waves the women off and then turns to Queen Diana with a wave in Steve’s direction.

“May I deal with this prisoner for you?”

She takes barely a second to decide.

“No, Persephone. The Queen of the Amazons is a servant to her people,” she rises then, taking Steve up with her and letting him dangle from the ropes. His gagging makes you curl in on yourself, “nothing is beneath her,” Queen Diana finishes as Steve takes his final struggling breaths.

The blood vessels on his face pop at the relentless pressure put on them as The Queen stares on impassively. The remaining Amazons cheer and the woman seems to bask in their praise.

“You must remember that this is a win for all of us!” Her exclamation is met with more cheers as she dangles Steve’s lifeless body through the air like a marionette.

“May the gods continue to look down favorably upon the daughters of Themyscira!” That cheer, from a dark skinned Amazon with snowy white hair, gets even Queen Diana calling out in excitement.

Their voices thunder around you all and in all your years both as black and as a woman you have never been made to feel so small as you do till now.

Like this, however, that feeling of absolute insignificance was damningly heady.

In the very next moment The Queen’s sharp gaze seems to snap to you and the skant air you’ve managed to gain seems to flee from your lungs in terror.

“Exactly sisters! And for that the fates of the spoils of our hunt today shall be decided by you!” She bows in mid air. “A gift from your ever faithful Queen.”

Seems the celebration won’t be stopping anytime soon then. You glance around at your teammates and see matching fear welling in their eyes.

Some of the people the Amazons choose are killed instantly and with gusto, others tossed between two of them like nothing as they’re tortured, some are even dragged away for who knows what, but you?

You’re left untouched.

Shaking you watch as everyone is picked off one by one around you and how in the rush The Queen's gaze still manages to stay locked on your form.

You’re watching her back with wide, nearly star struck eyes when she finally starts towards you. Your blood goes cold as she descends, carelessly dropping Steve in the process, before that damned lasso gets thrown around your body.

“Now you see that is a face of admiration!” She hoists you up into the air and your stomach drops. “Now tell me your truth, little human.”

“You’re…ethereal,” comes tumbling past your lips before you can hope to stop it.

The woman looks back at you in mild surprise before her laughter fills your ears.

“Of course I am.” She shifts you in her grip while motioning for the Amazons to move, hovering with you above them as they march back to their sanctuary.

You wonder if its location was one of the things Lois was going to share with you.

You were willing to bet it was too late to find out now.

─────

When you get back to the Queen’s new castle you feel like where they were hiding when they weren’t fighting should’ve been pretty obvious.

It was literally the former royal palace.

You walk in and can tell instantly that while some form of a fight must have occurred within the walls, the palace itself looked in otherwise perfect shape.

While most of the other Amazons that came with you disperse, some stay to debrief the Queen as she takes you along to the throne room.

At the entrance you’re met with a set of Amazons. Swiftly, they bow to their leader before opening the doors for her.

As you get a look inside your brows raise.

The throne that sits at the end of the velvet walkway is singular, first of all, and a lot bigger and more ornate than anything the British could’ve ever scrounged up. It makes even you impressed.

Queen Diana sits in it with all the air of a woman who knows without a moment of uncertainty that little can harm her.

In the following seconds she moves you to join her too, and you flush hard enough for a slight red hue to tint the deep brown of your cheeks.

The binding along your arms and midsection is so strong that you don’t even bother attempting to wiggle loose as you’re made to sit on the Amazon’s lap.

She’s completely self assured as she discusses her next steps with her council, and it makes you feel hopeless the way they blow off the US’s push back efforts as nothing. Easily solvable.

And all while you’re sitting on her lap like a trophy.

Eventually she dismisses everyone but the guards at the door and you're as alone as you’ll get.

You swallow thickly, glancing up at her through your lashes.

It’s a last ditch attempt but you try it anyway.

“If you kill me it’ll be all the US needs to join the war and deploy their forces.”

She looks down at you with a subtle raise of a brow.

“It’s adorable that you think you can scare me,” The Queen says. “Your government is so pathetic they jump at their own shadow. What threat could they ever possibly be to me when they can barely handle the problems within their own borders?”

She laughs, a boisterous sound that you feel just as much as you hear, and you’re unintentionally shaken in her hold. You knew it was a long shot but damn. She didn’t just shoot your idea down, she busted a fucking gut at it. You pout.

Yeah, you were screwed.

The Queen looked fucking unreal when she laughed though; you were a little winded.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!! I love dark!WW, and she was too good looking in the Flash Point animation style; fourteen year old me literally couldn’t handle it.

Also— boy, has this one been in the works for a hot ass minute, but at least now it’s finally out.

In general, though, I’m trying to get out fics with more of The Trinity as a focus that aren’t just Batman fics. So yeah.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

[scarlettjohanssons-mistress]

Are you safe with me

Warnings: Implied/referenced rape/non-con, sexual assault, angst and hurt/comfort, assault

Word count: 1.5 K

Pairing: Diana Prince (Wonder Woman) x Fem!Reader

Prompt: R has just suffered a trauma

Requests: OPEN

[Main masterlist] [DC masterlist]

Carefully, and trying to make it as unobvious as possible, I stretched out my arms, making my bones thunder, and carefully, I yawned, trying to get some oxygen to my poor, battered brain.

My boss had kept us in the conference room for what seemed like years.

More than three hours trying to find a solution to an extremely stupid problem, from which, it seemed, the magazine was hanging by a thread. It was extremely stupid.

Carefully, I looked at the watch on my wrist only to realise that it was already 11:30 PM.

"Does anyone have any solutions?" asked Jessica, the boss. Nobody answered, we were all extremely tired.

"Jessica, I don't think this is going anywhere," said Raquel, her right-hand woman, "We are extremely tired. We can sort this out tomorrow".

Jessica kept quiet, but watched us with a very unfriendly look on her face. She even stared at everyone's faces for a few seconds.

"It's OK. You can go."

Quicker than I would like to admit, I grabbed my things and left the office. I didn't even check my mobile phone or my work computer, I just turned it off, picked up my coat and went out into the streets of Paris.

Carefully, I ran down the stairs of the metro and climbed into the first carriage I came across, a few seconds before it closed its doors.

It was almost empty, only for a man and a woman with her baby. I carefully placed my bag in my arms, hugging her tightly and trying not to fall asleep.

"Hi cute" I looked up to see that the man was sitting next to me. I turned my head to notice that we were the only ones in the carriage.

"Sorry but…" I tried to get up from the seat, but his big hand stopped me. I sat back down.

"Why are you leaving, beauty?"

"Get away from me!" my right hand struck his cheek, but, apparently it only made him angrier.

"Well, princess, if you don't want to do it the easy way, you'll have to do it the hard way."

Out of nowhere, he pulled out a gun and pointed it at my head. I froze immediately and just raised my arms.

"Give me your phone and your wallet"

With a trembling hand, I took both things out of my bag and handed them to him. He quickly stuffed it into his sweatshirt pocket, but he never stopped pointing it at me.

"Good, beautiful. I like obedient girls. Now on your knees."

Without even thinking about it, I fell to my knees, feeling my stockings tearing on the scratchy floor.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see him start to undo the belt of his jeans.

"You're hungry for a fat cock, aren't you, gorgeous?" I could tell as he dropped his trousers until they covered his shoes. "Are you going to suck my cock?"

Before either of us knew it, the metro had reached the next station, so he pulled his trousers back up and forced me to stand up.

Thankfully, the station was one of the most used by tourists, so, despite it being almost 12:00 P.M. the carriage began to fill up quickly, so I took that opportunity to get off the carriage and run to the outside of the station.

With bated breath and a sense of dread, I approached a restaurant, asking a waiter if he could spare a couple of coins to call someone.

Maybe I looked really bad, because he didn't give me the coins, he just passed me to the kitchen and told me I could call whoever I wanted.

With trembling hands, I dialled the number I knew by heart.

"Hello?" Her voice was hoarse. She was asleep. Shit.

"Diana?"

"T/N, My love, is that you?"

I felt my eyes fill with tears again.

"Are you OK, why are you calling me from an unknown phone?"

Evade.

"Can you come and get me?"

"Oh, sure baby, are you at work?"

"No"

"Where are you?"

I broke away from the phone to see where I was. It was only then that

I realised where I was standing.

"Do you remember the restaurant from our first date?"

"Yes"

"Here I am"

"Okay, I'll be there in 5 minutes. Are you sure you're okay, T/N?"

I made a sound of denial.

"Can you hurry up… please?"

"Sure, baby. I'll be right there."

And she hung up.

———————————————————————————

Before I knew it, two toned arms embraced me tightly, as that sweet scent wafted into my lungs.

"I'm here".

Before she could say another word, I quickly pounced on her, hugging her torso and hiding my face in her chest.

Only then could I start to cry.

Diana like the good girlfriend she is, simply let me cry and began to rub soothing circles on my back and start a light cooing.

When I calmed down, I simply lifted my face and looked her in the eye.

Just looking into her beautiful eyes made me feel at peace.

"Can we go?"

"Sure"

With his right hand on my lower back, he guided me to the car Bruce had lent her, but not before thanking the staff.

If he had come by car and arrived in 5 minutes, that meant that he might have broken more than three traffic laws.

She opened the passenger door and made me sit down, even put my seatbelt on, closed the door and ran into the car.

She quickly began to drive,

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" she asked in her soft voice.

"Can we talk about it later?"

"We can talk about it anytime you want, baby, I just want you to be okay."

She gave me a smile as he took her right hand out of my hand and kissed the back of mine.

"Thank you. I love you."

"I love you"

———————————————————————————

I thought I would fall asleep on the way home, but no matter how sleepy and tired my body was, it was impossible for me to close my eyes for more than a few seconds.

So, I had no choice but to look out of the window and make Diana believe that I had fallen asleep. Until we reached our home.

Diana turned off the car, causing the soothing music on the radio to stop playing, leaving an uncomfortable silence.

"I know you're awake T/N"

But she didn't say anything else, she just got out of the car and opened my door, raising her hand. I took it and we both went into the house.

Once in the house, I went upstairs and into the bathroom. I quickly removed my smeared make-up and went into the bath.

I washed my hair about three times and scrubbed my arms, legs and face with enormous force. I even hurt my thighs a bit.

I left the bathroom to put on some panties and one of Diana's few casual T-shirts.

I put a towel over my head and lay down.

Minutes later, Diana arrived and lay down next to me, hugging me from behind, pressing little kisses on the back of my neck.

"I was assaulted"

The kissing stopped abruptly and I felt her get up.

"What?"

"I was mugged in the underground. The man had a gun" I began to sob "and he almost raped me, Diana".

The brunette didn't hesitate for two seconds to hug me tightly, letting me cry as much as I wanted, but when I pulled away from her chest, I noticed that she was crying too.

"Why are you crying?"

"This wouldn't have happened if I had been with you."

I took her face in my hands and forced her to look at me.

"No, my love. Neither of us is to blame for this."

We both hugged each other for a long time. Trying to soothe each other with Diana's body heat. It was a great advantage of dating a goddess.

"I'm going to kill him"

She tried to get up quickly, but my arms prevented her from doing so.

"No, not today. Now I just want you to hold me" I hugged her burying my face in her neck. "Please, I just need my girlfriend."

"Here I am, sweet girl. I'll always be here for you" I constantly kiss my head "You'll always be safe with me"

"I know, I always feel safe with you."

"What did they steal from you?"

"My mobile phone and my wallet"

"The one you just bought?" I just nodded, feeling the tears of anger start to roll down my cheeks. "Oh baby, I'm so sorry."

After another moment of silence, of her hand trying to reassure me and her lips kissing my temple and my hands playing with the zip of her sweatshirt.

"I love you, and believe me, I'll be sure to cut off his testicles."

"I know, I know your word is fact."

"Just like my love"

"Just like mine" I kissed her nose.

Note:

The only good thing about having my own cell phone stolen is that… I'm more active writing

I hope you enjoy it

I appreciate the reblogs, the likes and the comments

taglist: @littlebitchsposts // @xxsekhmet

message me or send an ask to be added to my taglist!

[smalls-words]

Fulfil Your Oath Masterlist

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

𖦹 ࣪˖ ◂ To The Future⊹ ˖ ࣪✦

WHAT IF!! | Diana Prince, The Wonder Woman, and her wife had a baby? But the problem is...how?

Synopsis; Diana loved you, and in her love, there was everything you needed: an infinite calm in her arms, a refuge in her words, and a future full of promises they didn’t yet know how to write. Together, without haste, without fear, only with the whisper of a love that grew day by day, building a home that needed no words, just shared glances and fleeting smiles.

Pairing ── Diana Prince x Wife! Reader.

Content. MDNI ── Fluff, Mentions of pregnancy, babys, elements of experimentation, mild angst, themes of family, and emotional vulnerability.

A/N ── English is not my first language—Spanish— A flood of posts is coming. Honestly, I've always wanted to write about Wonder Woman x reader (my inner lesbian speaking U.U) — she's my true "Hear me out" moment.

There always comes that inevitable point in relationships when the conversation turns to family. But in your case, we’re not talking about just any relationship. No, you’ve been happily married for three years to none other than Wonder Woman herself. The impossible dream of any average mortal, and here you are, sharing your morning coffee with the Amazon princess while debating whether the coffee should have sugar or not.

Then, one day, you notice it. At first, it’s small, subtle gestures. Maybe she takes you to the park on any random Saturday, and suddenly her eyes shine a little too brightly when a couple with a stroller walks by. “Isn’t it adorable?” she says, pointing to the baby who’s sleeping like it’s dreaming of cotton clouds. Or maybe, while shopping at some store, she stops in front of a mannequin wearing a tiny Wonder Woman costume, complete with a miniature tiara. “Look at this,” she says, holding it up with a smile. “Don’t you think someone in our family would look perfect in this someday?”

And then there’s the direct talk, as only Diana could do it. Straightforward, but with that sweetness that disarms you. “I’ve been thinking,” she says one night while you both watch the stars from the terrace, her hair gently waving in the breeze. “You and I… we could be wonderful parents.” And even though she says it seriously, there’s a playful gleam in her eyes.

But of course, this is Diana, Wonder Woman. For every serious conversation, there’s an avalanche of charmingly chaotic moments. Like that time she taught you how to hold a baby using a sack of rice because, according to her, “a warrior must be prepared for any situation.” Or that other time, during dinner with Clark and Lois, she launched into a philosophical debate about whether their baby should have an Amazonian, human, or Kryptonian name “just in case”—leaving you with your face completely red.

The problem came later, when you both looked at each other one afternoon in the Batcave, in front of a whiteboard full of equations, diagrams, and something that looked like a drawing of a baby with a cape, made by you in a burst of nerves. Yes, that was the tricky part: how.

The conversation with Batman was, in short, awkward.

“Let me see if I understand,” Bruce said, massaging the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “You want me to use my resources, technology, and—oh, I don’t know—my few hours of sleep, to figure out how an Amazonian and a human can have a biological child.”

“Exactly,” Diana replied, crossing her arms with the naturalness of someone who had already defeated gods. “Why are you making that face? You’ve done more complicated things.”

“Not with babies involved.”

Meanwhile, you tried not to make eye contact. After all, how do you explain to a man who spent his life as a dark knight that you now needed him for something so… personal?

Despite his reluctance, Bruce agreed to help. But not without conditions. “This doesn’t leave the circle. Not a word to Clark or Barry. Ever.” His look was so severe that even Diana raised an eyebrow, amused.

J’onn J’onzz, on the other hand, was a little more kind when consulted. “It’s a fascinating topic from a scientific perspective,” he said with that alien calm that seemed to come from centuries of Martian patience. “Though I must warn you, interdimensional hybrids aren’t a widely explored field.”

“Thanks for the optimism, J’onn,” you replied, glancing sideways at how Bruce and Diana argued about whether Amazonian genes could overpower normal humans.

The following weeks were a whirlwind of experiments, consultations, and technology that seemed straight out of a science fiction movie. J’onn led the genetic analysis, while Bruce applied his methodical obsession to create a viable procedure. Every night, Diana came home with a detailed report and summarized it for you with a mix of enthusiasm and seriousness.

“Bruce says we might need a Kryptonian catalyst,” she said one day, as if she were talking about what to have for dinner. “Do you think Clark will mind if we ask him for a hair sample?”

By the time everything was ready, you were already used to the strangest conversations of your life. But when the time came, when Diana held your hand while J’onn and Bruce confirmed that their plan would work, you couldn’t help but smile. They had achieved the impossible.

And so, with the help of a grumpy dark knight and a Martian with infinite patience, your dream of starting a family with Diana began to take shape. Because, in the end, if there’s one thing that heroes understand better than anyone, it’s that no challenge is too great when it comes to love.

The months flew by, and with each one, the Batcave became a second home for you and Diana. Every week, you would enter the dark, cold sanctuary of Gotham, where Batman, or more specifically Bruce, waited with an air of seriousness and a look that made you feel like you were participating in a high-risk operation. And in a way, you were.

Diana, although more than capable of facing the universe’s greatest threats, couldn’t help but show a completely human vulnerability when it came to her baby. At first, she tried to hide it, but every time Bruce, J'onn, or worse, Tim, began to review the baby’s growth with that scientific look, her face would tense. Tim, the Robin at that time, was so meticulous that he seemed to enjoy measuring every aspect of the baby’s development more than anyone else, as if he were calculating the exact moment a future superhero might crawl out of the crib and start kicking butt.

“Everything seems to be in order,” Tim said, again and again, checking the monitors as if it were a game. Diana smiled, but you could see her fingers interlacing with Bruce’s, looking for some sign of support. Bruce, meanwhile, kept observing in silence, calculating every possible scenario with a sharp mind, but also a little bit of affection hidden between his words.

“If Tim tells you it’s fine, it probably is,” he said with his voice tone that left no room for doubt, but that, to you, sounded strangely reassuring. He wasn’t used to showing many emotions, but when Diana couldn’t help but bite her lip, he noticed.

Every time Bruce and Tim gathered to review the baby’s growth, she would remain still, as if waiting for a verdict. “Is everything okay? Is this all we hoped for?” she would ask from time to time, even though the answers were already quite clear.

And then, the day came.

It all happened in the blink of an eye: a quick trip to the Batcave, followed by a torrent of emotions that no one could have anticipated. Diana, calmer than you expected, held the baby with a softness that only she could have. And there it was, the little being that had been the center of so many scientific consultations, now wrapped in the warmth of the woman who had carried it in her womb.

“It’s a girl,” Bruce murmured, his deep voice but with a rare warmth. “Welcome to the world.”

Diana’s smile was as bright as the sun. Her eyes, always so firm, were now filled with infinite sweetness as she looked at her daughter, who slept peacefully in her arms.

If it was a girl, things were simple. She could grow up on Themyscira, surrounded by the peace of the island, with the ancient warriors and her grandmother, Hippolyta, to guide her. The aunts would also be there, and they could teach her the secrets of her lineage, as well as her mother’s story. Diana could freely take her to the island and watch her grow in an environment of love and power.

But if it was a boy… the rules were different. Although Diana’s love, yours, and her grandmother’s would be endless, they couldn’t take the little one to Themyscira for now. The island, a place of ancient traditions and mystical protections, wasn’t the best place for a human child at the moment. There were too many dangers and secrets still to be understood, and Diana knew the boy would need a larger, more complicated world before he could be part of that sacred refuge.

When J'onn confirmed the gender, Diana's relief was palpable, and although the joy of holding her daughter was absolute, there was also a slight shadow of concern at the thought of what might have been if it had been a boy.

But as the hours passed and the little being with bright eyes and a peaceful smile woke up, Diana leaned over her, whispering with unconditional love, “Everything will be fine. The world will be ours to give her.”

And as the little girl snuggled against her mother, both knew that no matter what the future held, their family had already begun to take shape. With Diana’s love, yours, and the support of all the heroes around them, the little being would grow up in a world full of protection, love, and adventures that would undoubtedly surpass any challenge.

A/N ── Since I was little, when I lived in a messed-up country, Wonder Woman has always been one of my favorite heroes. I have other heroes I love too, but with Diana, I kneel and pray, no kidding! She’s so gorgeous, especially in those fanarts of Buff! Wonder Woman… God, she drives me crazy, I adore her to the core. It’s like my heart is a suit of armor about to crumble because of her!

[animasola86]

F o r g e t f u l 🎀 1 / 4

Your roommate has a dirty secret - you. The only problem is: you can't remember anything about that. And there might be even more problems when you realize just what kind of relationship you have with her.

a dominant woman X a submissive girl with a memory problem

WARNINGS: F!Reader-insert! NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Mistress/pet. Domme/sub. Memory loss. Manipulation. Gaslighting. Praise kink. Dubcon elements. Fingering. Sex toys. Object insertion. Bondage. (More tags on AO3.) WORDS: 5.5k

A/N: Remember: if these tags are not for you, you better turn back now! If you know my other stories, you may be used to my very explicit writing style, but this is still some of the darker stuff, somewhat. It's rough, but there is an actual wlw story buried beneath the depravity, I swear! And: THIS IS FICTION! Nobody got hurt in the making of this series. (By the way, the header is just for aesthetics, it's up to you to decide how Mistress looks like and obviously Reader looks however you want to insert her. I tried my best to keep her neutral.) Another note on the fandom tags: I write characters who could be anyone, so I thought about some kick-ass ladies who may fit the role here. I'm sorry this is not about your favorite character, but maybe it can still somewhat fit? Give it a try :)

1 🎀 2 🎀 3 🎀 4

You're staring at the pictures with your lips parted and trembling, your cheeks warm, a strange tingle in your nape. Your hands are shaking as you file through the prints. They look weirdly professional, good lighting, even better angles, the background is blurry while the focus lies directly on...

You.

It's you in those photographs, you in various positions, you in different outfits... or with nothing at all hiding your curves. Some pictures are just showing certain body parts, some angles you've never seen of yourself, some more flattering than others.

But whatever you see, you can't hide the fact that it arouses you. It's not the subject, you're usually quite self-conscious about taking nudes of yourself (even though you gotta admit that these look quite well made, so surreal that you feel almost proud of yourself), it's actually two things that make your core throb:

One: you are in clearly compromising positions, bent over with your legs spread wide, on your back, bound to the bed with cuffs around your wrists and ankles, or tied up with soft-looking rope in intricate patterns, your body composed in ways you haven't thought possible (or comfortable).

And two: you are always stuffed. There are various objects sticking out of both your cunt and your ass, sometimes there's even something in your mouth that's held open by a spider gag. It varies too, not all holes are occupied all the time, all at once, in some pictures it's just one and it's particularly stuffed and stretched (is that an eggplant?).

Your body reacts more and more as you flip through the thick printed paper. The worst thing about it all:

You can't remember a goddamn thing!

Shame and arousal course through you as you stare at yourself. But you can't put them down, can't stop. In this photo, you're wearing a black leather harness that accentuates your breasts. You're standing, with wide legs, a spreader bar attached to your ankles. You're blindfolded, your arms tied behind your back. It's a series of pictures, you realize.

First from the front, then from the back (your ass cheeks look great with how they're pushed up by the leather straps). You notice something shiny between them: a butt plug with a sparkly diamond base. It's glowing, or blinking as you see in the next picture where the light is gone.

Your insides convulse a little, your muscles clenching around nothing. It's like looking at porn, but you can't ignore the familiarity about the body portrayed. It is undoubtedly yours.

But then again: you've never had anything up your ass, not in your conscious state at least. But here (and in those other pics) you have, and the next print even shows a close-up of the plug in your ass. It's a strangely aesthetic photo considering the unflattering motif and angle, but it certainly does things to you. Though you can't be sure if the tension in your stomach comes from embarrassment, excitement or sheer terror at the revelation that somebody took these pictures of you – and you can't even remember it.

Swallowing hard, you pry your eyes from the prints, your hands still shaking, as you look around the room. Somebody can only be one person. Your gaze scrapes over the shelves around you, full of camera equipment, old-fashioned film containers next to a plastic box full of SD-cards, various lenses and other extras, and then the cameras themselves, three at least, behind glass doors, kept away, like the pictures you found in a large brown envelope hiding in a drawer.

You've been looking for some hair ties, an innocent search, knowing your roommate wouldn't mind, but now you feel as if you've stepped into a different world, uncovering secrets you should have never known about. Even if they are about you.

Taking a shuddering breath, you look back at the pictures in your hands, your cheeks positively aflame now as you trace the blurry lines of your body before the focus shifts to a close-up of your cunt, shiny and reddened, your clit swollen, with black clamps attached to your pussy lips, thin metal chains disappearing off to the sides, holding your folds open while something black and girthy vanishes into your body.

The next pictures show a white-gloved hand gripping the base of the dildo, and you flip quicker through the sheets to create the motion, seeing the toy going in and out of your cunt, guided by the anonymous hand, spreading your core, diving in to retreat with an extra layer of shine before disappearing again, and as you stare at the prints, you can almost feel it moving inside you, a faint memory as your muscles clench and unclench, your arousal building up before it drips into your underwear.

You are torn between being very horny upon seeing these pictures and utterly disturbed. If you could only remember these scenes, then it wouldn't be as bad. But you can't. There's nothing, only fog that slips through your mind's imaginary fingers as you try to catch it, as you try to make sense of this. You feel your heart beating faster while your eyes tear up from staring unblinkingly at the prints in your hands.

This can't be real. Confusion merges with betrayal, your belly feels tense, your heart clenches in rhythm with your walls, your throat closes up as the first tear spills from your lashes.

You let go of the pictures, watching them scatter over the desk and down to the floor, every angle of your body on display, every inch captured in embarrassing detail, your holes filled or gaping, your mouth gagged or stuffed or open, there's drool, there are tears, there's wetness glistening on your skin in almost every shot. Your eyes may be the scariest part staring up at you. They're either glazed over, unfocused, or rolled back and hooded, some bloodshot, some watery, and some look almost defiant, a moment captured in time where you seemingly fought back?

The ones where you're blindfolded are the least terrifying, those are the ones where you can dissociate, where you can imagine somebody else being tied to whatever surfaces there are, tables, benches, beds, chairs, artfully presented, where it's just a body, clad in sexy lingerie and high heels, or adorned with ropes, or in the moments after where the skin is dented by the intricate patterns left behind by the ties.

The close-ups are also getting to you. You've never seen your own cunt or ass up close like this, so again, it could be anyone's holes filled and spread and used by various objects. The sheer amount and variety of them is quite concerning. But it's the unconventional ones that make you shiver, that create that tension in your stomach. The cucumber pushed deep into your ass so only its thinner stalk or whatever its called pokes out. The wide eggplant parting your labia in an obscene fashion, its entire body stuffed into your cunt, creating a slight bulge in your lower stomach.

There's another stack of photos atop a large envelope (the whole drawer seems to be dedicated to just you), and your curiosity gets the better of you after all. It's a series of pictures showing different round objects pushed into your holes. From marbles to ping pong balls to actual tennis balls, they're all shown vanishing into either your ass or your cunt, pushed by a delicate finger clad in a white glove, one after the other, and you can only assume how many would actually fit. It's not a video, you can't be sure, but you can imagine whoever did this to you didn't stop at just one.

Indeed they didn't, as the next photo shows. Another set of hands, also wearing white gloves, is grabbing your ass cheeks and pulling them apart, making your sphincter wink at the camera, before, in the next shot, your hole is gaping, allowing a strange view inside, rosy flesh stuffed with white little balls (you can see at least three, but more are hinted at behind them). You feel a little sick looking at the rest of the series of pictures, where they come back out as your hole puckers, pushing and pushing.

Your body reacts in earnest, your muscles clenching around nothing, deep shivers crashing down your spine. You flip past more of these kinds of photos, until you stop when you see white-gloved fingers poking at your cunt, spreading your lips, gathering your slick that glistens on the surface of the latex gloves, and you let out an audible gasp when the next picture doesn't show them push in, but shows only a wrist (attached to a slender arm) poking out of your stretched hole, gripped by tight skin, suggesting the entire hand is stuck inside you.

Your stomach gives a nervous growl at the sight, your breath hitching in your throat. You swallow thickly, your nostrils flaring as you force yourself to breathe through your nose to calm yourself. The stack of pictures shakes in your hands as you flip through more extreme insertions, more vegetables, some fruits, an entire apple made it up your cunt apparently, while they went from using one cucumber in your ass to at least three, stretching your rim impossibly wide. The sight alone makes your asshole clench violently, and you wonder why you never felt sore after being stuffed so full and spread so wide.

But your body seemingly adjusted, returned to its former state, unharmed, giving no hints at what actually happened to you. Strange. It's almost as if this happened to somebody else after all. But it didn't. It is your body. You may not know your cunt or ass up close, but you recognize the rest, your boobs, your arms, your belly, your legs, your feet, the birthmarks that make you you. It is you in these pictures, in every single one.

Only you.

A strangled sob escapes you as you look over the desk, seeing more and more envelopes, hiding in plain sight, more prints, some smaller, some bigger, all filled with motifs of your body being used in various fashions, one more degrading than the next. Shame settles low in your stomach, like a heavy weight that makes it hard to breathe. Your head is spinning, blood rushing in your ears so loudly you are startled back into reality as you suddenly hear the creaking of the door.

Footsteps follow, before someone clears their throat.

You whip around, dropping the last pictures you were holding, more shots of your stuffed cunt, wet and glistening as it's assaulted by more household items. Your eyes widen when you see your roommate in the door frame, a smug smile on her beautiful face as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Oh hi,” she says in a nonchalant tone, tilting her head. “What are you doing here, pet?” she adds, and you frown at the nickname, a strange sensation crashing through your nerves.

“I... uh... I was looking for...” you stammer, taking a step away from the desk and the mess you made by dropping all those prints. “A hair tie,” you whisper breathlessly, curling your shaking hands into fists as you stare at her. “What... what are these? Did you take them?” you then ask, your voice trembling as much as your shoulders while you look from her back to the discriminating evidence you found by accident.

Your roommate sighs, unfolding her arms as she walks towards you. She's taller than you, slender and still curvy in the right places, her long hair falling over her slim shoulders. You force yourself to look into her eyes and not get distracted by the cleavage her tight dress creates or how close she is. She stops right in front of you, looking down, a softer looking smile curling her full lips.

“You know I did,” she says quietly, reaching up a hand to caress your cheek with the back of her finger. You shiver under the touch, but don't flinch away. “You agreed to this, remember?”

“No,” you breathe out, blinking quickly as you feel tears welling up in your eyes.

She clicks her tongue, shaking her head. “Shh, it's okay, pet, don't worry. You did. I would never do anything to harm you,” she whispers, leaning closer until you feel her hot breath on your lips. “You wanted to be my muse, you begged me for it,” she adds, biting her lip sensually before leaning in to press her warm mouth to the corner of yours.

You stiffen, eyes widening, your heart nearly exploding in your chest. You can't remember any of this. Why is she saying that? She is just your roommate!

You moved in only a few months ago, replying to an ad you saw on the bulletin board of your college dorm. A cheap room in a good neighborhood, your own room, away from the distractions of having to live with people you don't like or know that well, it sounded too good to be true. But it was true, and the woman looking for roommates was so nice, so enticing. You met her at a neutral place, to get to know her (fall for her charm), before she showed you the apartment, and you moved in later that week.

It was perfect. Until it wasn't. Not that you noticed it right away. You just never saw her. Now that you thought about it, you can only (barely) remember going to your classes (you are still going to your classes, right?), while the rest of the day is somewhat of a blur. You can't, however, remember going to your job at the coffee shop (do you still have a job? How are you paying for this place?), and the more you try to remember, the more holes come up, black and all-consuming.

You frown as you stare at her. She leans back slowly, watching you. Her hand is on your face, the pointy nail of her thump scraping over your bottom lip as her long fingers caress the shell of your ear.

“No need to worry, pet,” she says quietly, her voice a low soft thrum, rich like honey, that tickles something inside you that you've fought all your life. Why does she keep calling you 'pet'? And why does it affect you so much? “Everything is just fine. And I'm not even mad that you just went into my room like this. I told you you shouldn't, didn't I?”

You swallow as she lowers her hand and closes it around your throat, giving it a gentle squeeze. You feel your pulse throbbing against her palm. “I'm sorry,” you gasp out.

She smiles at you, moving her hand even lower, teasing her fingertips along the neckline of your shirt. “It's okay. You know the consequences. It'll be fine.” You furrow your eyebrows, breathing harder, not understanding anything. “Not the first time, hm?” she adds, giving you a wink. Her words make no sense, your head is hurting with how tight you pull your eyebrows together, and with all the thoughts and questions whirling about in a wild dance of confusion.

“I... I don't –”

“Shh,” she shushes you, her hand gripping your chin. You freeze. “Be a good pet and go back to your room. I'll clean this up. Put on the clothes I chose for you. Wait for me when you're done. Do you understand?”

You stare at her, your body tensing up, your cunt clenching hard around nothing. Her words, the cadence of her voice, the dominant tone, it all brings you to do one thing, your mind emptying as words spill from your trembling lips. “Yes, Mistress.”

You don't even know where these came from. Mistress? Pet? What is going on? But your body moves on auto-pilot, your mind swirling, still fighting the confusion, but also easing into a strange void, triggered by words you've heard before, or so it feels, commands you've answered many times in the past.

She lets go of your chin, giving you a warm smile, even though her eyes are dark and somewhat cold, and you nod, bow your head and shuffle out of the room, your legs trembling as you make your way back into your bedroom across the hall.

For a moment you're wondering how you got here, why you're here, but then your gaze falls onto a pile of clothes on your bed. You walk closer, picking up item after item. A short black skirt, pleated, barely long enough to not be considered a belt. A tight tank top, white and almost see-through. A set of fancy black underwear, a lace bra with an intricate flower pattern, a thong of similar design. There's also a pair of sheer black stockings, a garter belt and straps to attach each piece together.

Your stomach tenses at the sight. You've seen these pieces before, in the photos you shouldn't have seen. It's a blur how you put them on, your head spinning, your hands shaking, but you still somehow manage to dress in time before you hear footsteps on the floorboards outside your room. Your heart beats faster, your chest heaving, tight in the bra and top, straining, something cold crashing down your spine before it gathers hot and pulsing right between your legs.

Before the creaking of the door announces your roommate, you suddenly fall to your knees, your feet tucked under your rear, your hands automatically finding purchase in your lap, folded neatly as you stretch your back and square your shoulders, breathing deep as you train your eyes straight ahead, waiting for the door to open. You have no idea what made you assume this position, why it feels so familiar, so safe in a way.

Your roommate (your Mistress) enters your bedroom, her high heels thudding over the carpet as she walks up to you, tilting her head as she watches you closely. “Stand,” she says, and you do, your legs moving seemingly on their own. Once you stand, stiff with your arms pressed to your sides, chest pushed out, your neck straight, eyes wandering over the tall frame in front of you, she nods. “See? You haven't forgotten. Good girl,” she says, and the praise shoots through you like a pistol shot, straight into your clit, making it throb and ache, your heart beating in the same hurried rhythm.

She walks around you then, her long fingers brushing over your bare arms, around your shoulders, down your spine, until she gives your ass a soft slap, making you gasp quietly. She repeats the motion, but this time, she leaves her hand on your cheek for a moment, squeezing it, her fingernails digging into your soft skin. You stiffen, breathing a little harder.

“You're so beautiful,” she whispers as she leans into you, looming behind you, her breath ghosting your jaw. “My perfect little muse.”

You feel her lips brushing against the soft spot behind your ear, a hot kiss that makes you shiver, while her hand gropes your ass, fingertips teasing at the thin fabric of your thong tucked between your cheeks.

Suddenly she leans back, lets go of you, and you hear her walking a few steps before she stops, a deep sigh echoing through the room. You turn around slowly, unsure if you should, but when you do, you freeze as you watch her pick up the glass of water on your bedside table.

“Baby, I told you to drink more,” she says with a tilt of her head. “You always forget, hm? So busy, head always in the clouds...” She walks back to you, holding the glass in front of you, her eyes boring into yours as she waits for you to grab it. You do, your hands shaking. “Drink up, pretty girl. You know you need it.”

She's so caring, you think as you bring the water to your lips, holding her gaze, but as soon as you feel the cold liquid running down your tight throat, an image flickers before your eyes. Your roommate (Mistress) sitting on your bed, moving a clear glass straw in a stirring motion, swirling the water, making a faint sheen of powder disappear. You feel as if you've watched her do that many times. What is that? What did she put in here? Vitamins? Or something else?

But you can't even question it further, can't find the courage to ask, when you realize you've drank the whole thing, every drop of water (and whatever else was in there) now in your stomach. “Good girl,” she praises and smiles at you, before she takes the glass from your clammy fingers and puts it back on your bedside table. “Now let's get you ready for our big night out, yeah?”

You frown, another faint memory peeking through the fog in your head. It seems to be getting thicker now. Strange. But this image, you still see somewhat clearly before you. You had plans tonight, you remember now, you wanted to go out. Where? No idea. But you needed a hair tie. Yeah. That's why you went into your roommate's room in the first place. Some details are blurry (were you supposed to go out with her? Have you done that before? Why would you? You barely know the woman...), but somehow they don't matter anymore.

She steps back in front of you, her fingers vanishing in the cleavage of her dress before she pulls something from between her breasts. You blink in confusion as you recognize the shape. It's a metal butt plug. And she stored it between her boobs? Interesting.

“Open wide, pet,” she tells you, and without even questioning it, you part your lips and let your tongue roll out. She looks pleased as she puts the rounded object into your mouth. It's warm, and the taste triggers something else in you. Another familiar sensation. It's her, you know without knowing, her taste, sweet and a bit salty, exploding on your tongue, sinking deep, causing soft shivers to crash down your spine, something hot gathering low in your gut.

You've had your face on her chest before, huh? Must be. Your cheeks burn up badly, your breaths loud through your nose as you suckle on the butt plug between your lips, your eyes scanning the pretty face looking down at you. She keeps her fingers on the base, pushing the object in and out, and you find yourself licking around it, coating it in your saliva. Like you've done before. You think.

She watches you before she lets go of the plug and puts her palm over your mouth. “Keep it nice and warm for me, okay?” she says, leaning closer until her nose brushes against yours. You give a jerking nod, tightening your lips around the narrowest part of the plug while its body rests hard and heavy on your tongue. “Good.”

You feel saliva pooling in your mouth, and the urge to swallow becomes stronger. But you focus on the woman in front of you as she straightens up again, her hands on her hips. Her whole presence, her aura, has you in its grip, you feel, it's impossible to fight it, to protest, to do anything except the things she demands of you. All it takes is a look, a word, her voice driving through you like an electric current that controls your every limb.

And so you move when she tells you to turn around and bend over, and as you rest on your forearms on the edge of your bed, she nudges your legs apart and steps between them, her hands sliding under your skirt and pushing it up. You stiffen slightly, breathing harder, your heart thundering inside your chest, but you can't object, you don't want to. You just endure.

And a tiny part of you, through the fog in your head, lights up, a growing heat that creeps down your spine, tenses in your stomach, seeps lower until it gathers in your core, scorching, wet, and it's all you feel when she pushes your thong aside and moves her fingers along your slit, dipping gently between your puffy lips and into your slick, the loud squelching noise making your ears burn.

She prods at your entrance, teases your clit, but then she moves up again, and without warning or command or reassuring words pokes right against your puckered hole, and as you gasp around the plug in your mouth, flinching slightly, she stretches your rim and pushes into your ass, a slim finger, a pointy fingernail, digging against your tense muscles. In and out it goes until there are two fingers, then three, and it burns, the friction too much, like little daggers poking at your nerves.

“Come on, pet, relax,” she says from behind you, moving her fingers deeper, curling them, pushing and prodding against protesting muscles. “You've done this before. You're a pro at this, remember?”

Her words bring up the hazy memories of the pictures you saw, of the various items wedged into your tight ass, and some just don't make sense. Three cucumbers? Really? While it already feels like too much when she 'only' has three slim fingers inside you? How did you manage that? Your stomach gives a distant growl as drool slips past your tight lips and onto your bed.

“Fine, I'll lube you up this time,” she sighs and removes her fingers with a strangely wet pop. This time? She doesn't usually? It's almost as if you can remember the pain of the dry friction, but then why can you never remember any soreness afterwards? Confusion lingers on your mind as you hear her footsteps leaving the room.

You remain in your bent-over position, your hands clawing at the sheets as you suckle mindlessly on the metal plug in your mouth, trying to make sense of it all. You come to no conclusion whatsoever when she eventually returns, and you hear the squirt of some liquid before you can feel it. Large dollops of something cold pressing against your tight hole. You groan against the object between your lips as she pushes deeper, her fingers, slick and cold, sliding in and out again.

This time she stretches your hole by scissoring her fingers, knuckles digging into your tense muscles, and you hear another squirt and something cold lands on your hot skin, slipping right into you. You shiver, goosebumps breaking out on your exposed skin. She keeps doing that, filling you up with more and more lube, you assume, her fingers pushing it deep, coating your insides. It's a strange sensation, but again, this feels somewhat familiar, and triggers more memories you seem to have suppressed before, or forgotten.

You see yourself strapped to a reclining chair, your legs raised up in some sort of stirrups, ankles tied and wrists bound to the armrests. You're naked, and she is kneeling between your wide open legs in front of a large plastic bucket or something like it, and there's a tube inside your ass, something cold (water?) pressing through it and into you, and you see and feel it filling you up, your stomach bulging, and you feel sick, your insides cramping, but you can't say anything, there's a gag in your mouth, so all you can do is squirm in your restraints, until you feel a different sort of pain as she slaps your mound with a force that makes you cry out, makes you flinch remembering it, and she keeps at it, hitting your clit with precise blows until it's all puffy and throbbing badly, and you throw your head back and whine helplessly, your belly still bulging, filling up, while her voice coos into your ear:

“You want to be clean, pet, don't you? So we gotta clean you up properly. You don't want to be dirty for our guests, now do you?”

You frown deeply as those words echo in your cloudy head. Guests? But the question vanishes slowly, replaced by the sensation of her fingers digging deep into your ass, spreading more lube, and in the back of your mind you're just glad she isn't giving you another enema. A strange thought to have, but it makes sense in the dizziness that holds you hostage. Breathing harder, you press your forehead into the bed, swallowing hard around the plug in your mouth.

As she works on (in) your ass, you start to feel a tingle in your neglected pussy, a spasm deep within, a little clench, a needy little urge, and instead of holding still, you find yourself grinding your rear into her hand. She stops immediately, a deep sigh escaping her as she pulls her fingers out of your ass and grips your nape with her wet hand. You shiver and stiffen, holding your breath as she pulls you into a standing position.

Her free hand grabs the base of the plug and pulls it out of your mouth where it clangs against your teeth, causing you to flinch. You swallow the excess spit and take a shuddering breath as you feel the warm metal pressing between your ass cheeks. With how she worked you open, it slips in easily enough, and your muscles clench slightly around its narrow neck, but it's only after she smacks your soft cheek a few times in rapid succession, making you whine and shudder as your skin tightens, that you're tensing up enough to hold it in place.

She lets go of you and spins you around, then holds out her hand to you, her fingers glistening in lube and your own wetness. “Clean,” she says, and even though your stomach makes a loud grumble of protest, you find yourself leaning in and closing your lips around her slim fingers. A strange taste of artificial strawberry and something else, something tangy and your own, floods your senses, but you close your eyes and flick your tongue around her digits, focusing on the task and not on the taste and the origin of it.

Eventually she pulls her hand away and pats your cheek, leaving a trail of saliva on your warm skin. Your eyes flutter open as she leans around you and adjusts your thong, pulling it back in place, then pushes your skirt down again. Her eyes meet yours, the gaze intense, creating another soothing wave of heat that rolls over you gently, that makes you clench around the plug in your butt. A smile grazes her full lips, and you find yourself smiling back.

“Alright, now put your hair up, get your shoes and your coat, and wait by the front door,” she tells you as she steps away, holding your gaze until you nod obediently. Your mind is reeling at this point, confusion and arousal warring inside of you. What is happening?

You don't know, and you don't seem to care too much either as you start moving, following her orders. You end up on your knees again, right by the door, waiting like a dog, and the image couldn't have been more fitting when you see her approaching with a strange leather band in her hands. You blink when she crouches down before you and fixes what you can only assume is a collar around your neck. It sits tight enough to notice it, but you can still breathe freely and swallow against it without it restricting you in any way.

You're still confused why you need this (and why you accept it so easily). Your roommate (Mistress) cups your face and looks at you with a warm gaze that makes you bite your lip, her hands rubbing over your cheeks before she tugs her thumbs under your chin and lifts it so she can lean in and press her lips to yours. Your eyes flutter shut as you part your lips and meet her tongue, the kiss deep and soft, gentle gliding of tongues and lips, a warm gesture, sending sparks through your nerves that make you throb with a need that feels both familiar and eerily unknown, frightening.

A single thought ricochets through your empty head: You would do anything for this woman.

“My beautiful pet,” she whispers against your tingling lips, the tip of her tongue tracing the corner of your mouth. “Are you ready?”

Without thinking, without wondering what for, you nod eagerly, a breathless “Yes, Mistress.” leaving your swollen lips. She gives you another peck and stands up then, snapping her fingers in a way that leaves no room for interpretation. You stand immediately, swaying slightly on the high heels you were told to wear. You're still smaller than her, but having to look up only amplifies the sensation coursing through you. Your devotion for her.

She grabs a large bag and shoves it into your hands, and you know by the weight and feel of it, that it holds camera equipment. A distant memory shimmers behind your glassy eyes, of stumbling into her room, finding those envelopes in the drawer of her desk, of flipping through countless pictures of your naked body, of your holes being stuffed and stretched, of being tied down, of letting her do with you whatever she wants. What has disturbed you earlier is barely worth a flinch now.

It's what you do. It's what you are. Her muse. Her pet. She chose you and you obey. It's what you do, it's what she does. She's your Mistress, after all.

1 🎀 2 🎀 3 🎀 4

End notes: Yes, our dominant lady here is indeed inspired by a character from my other (m/f) Dom/sub story: Infatuated: Mistress.

By the way, a little disclaimer at the end here as we go to the next (heavier) chapters: I am not a BDSM professional or expert, I am a writer with a dirty mind and access to the Internet. This is fiction, gaslighting people is bad, consent is very important, but when a hot lady tells you to do something, you gotta do it, that's the law (jk). Please see this as what it is: a fantasy and nothing more.

Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Saturday!

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

[arkhamslvts]

Would you let Diana (ww) put you through a mattress? Yes or yes? Would you try to make her jealous to get fucked harder and then feel really bad bc she was genuinely upset but clearly trying to hide it, and then give an heartfelt apology and promise not to play with her feelings again? And then try to make it up to her by letting her fuck you like she wanted to?

YES.

jesus fucking christ i know in my spirit that she's good with her fingers too, sits you on her lap with her lips pressed to your neck, two of her fingers stuffed into you "i dont like when you act like that darling, isn't it much better when i treat you like this?" her fingers speed up, but she doesnt want you to cum, she's still upset.. you'll have to work for that later

[a-fandom-reimagined]

< PREVIOUS PART

"Diana, you have exhausted valuable resources and the skills of our healers for one woman. To what end? She will die anyway. Maybe not today or tomorrow. Maybe not a year from now or ten but she will die. You're just delaying the inevitable."

Diana had few moments in her life where she could truthfully say she was angry with her mother. But in that moment she almost hated her. The Amazons were supposed to be messengers of peace and truth and justice. What happened to her mother while she was away? What happened to the fearsome woman who raised and taught her to stand for what was right? This wasn't the first time they'd had this argument and as your life hung in the balance, Diana doubted it would be the last.

You hadn't uttered more than a few sentences since arriving on the sandy shores of Themyscira and that was two weeks ago. You'd been in and out of consciousness every since. Never awake longer than a second or two and no one could tell Diana why. The healers had done all they could. The rest was up to you.

Diana gritted her teeth and rose from your bedside. "You and I are not having this conversation again, mama. Y/N is staying here until she wakes up. The healers will attend her for as long as she requires their attention and that is final. You gave me your word and you will stand by it."

"Perhaps I gave it too hastily."

Fire and hatred burned in Diana's eyes but the Queen of the Amazons did not--would not--falter. "I know you've formed something of an…attachment…to this girl--"

Diana laughed, tearfully. Attachment. What a paltry word to describe what she felt for you. This all-consuming yearning and devotion that kept her up nights and drove her to kneel at your bedside for hours with no regard to her own hunger and comfort. "Attachment," Diana repeated, laughing again.

"She is not like us, my daughter" the queen continued. "She is not like you--"

"She doesn't have to be! I don't need her to be like me. I don't need her to do anything but live, mama!"

"I do not mean to be cruel but if this is what her ailing has done to you…I don't want to know what would become of you if she perished."

Diana for the first time since coming home was inclined to agree with her mother. She opened her mouth to speak, some of her earlier anger dissipating, when a sharp breath stole away her words.

Diana whirled.

You rubbed sleep from your eyes, wincing as you struggled to get comfortable in the narrow cot on which you lay.

Diana stumbled to your bedside and fell to her knees.

You gave her a weak smile, bleary-eyed smile. Your hair was a bird's nest atop your head and yet to Diana, you'd never looked more beautiful.

You hit the ground hard not for the first time today.

"Dammit," you hissed.

Diana leaned into your line of sight with an apologetic smile. "Are you alright?"

"No I'm not alright!" you snapped. "A toddler could have blocked that kick and I just…I just," you screwed your eyes shut and breathed through the pain, the embarrassment, and frustration. "I'm not the same, D. My body…it's not the same."

She dropped to her knees and gently straddled your waist. Taking your face in her hands, she kissed your lids again and again until you opened them. "It's only been a week, my love. It could take months even years to remind your body of what your mind never forgot. Give it time."

It had been four months since you woke up in Themyscira's infirmary. Four long grueling months spent trying to remember how to walk and care for yourself. Fighting off pain and infection with strange herbs and medicinal techniques you'd never heard of and you were tired. So, so tired of being weak and fragile on an island surrounded by women who were the very definition of everything you used to be.

"But I don't want it to take months or years!" tears of frustration filled your eyes.

"I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice." Diana carefully rolled off of you and into the grass.

"Someone did this to me, Diana. I could have died."

"I know… And when you are well my love, we will find them and you will have your justice. But whether you like it or not it will take time. And if you will have me, I will be here with you. For every step of the way. And every step after that."

REQUESTED! | REQUESTS: OPEN | REBLOG DON’T REPOST | GIF?

[thebigbadbatswife]

Wonderstruck

Pairing(s): Diana of Themyscira x F!Reader

Summary - Bruce introduces you, his oldest friend, to the one superhero friend of his that you haven’t met yet.

Warnings - First meetings. Reader has social anxiety. Fluff. Humour. Bisexual!Reader.

Word Count - 1.5k

“Are you sure about this, Bruce?” you ask, looking yourself over in the mirror, frowning. You’re still unsure about the outfit you have picked out for the party tonight. “It’s been forever since I’ve been to one of these things.”

Bruce chuckles and gently pulls you away from the mirror, turning you to face him. “You look great and keep in mind this isn’t a fancy party filled with upper class dickheads. Just friends and family.” 

You know that he’s right. This is supposed to be a more laid back type of party. Even his outfit is laidback. A black shirt and slacks instead of the usually suit and tie. It hasn’t stopped you from working yourself up though. Your palms are sweaty and your heart is thumping hard against your ribcage. Already your mind has conjured up and played out a bunch of scenarios. Each one going worse than the last one. It’s more than enough to make you feel like running back to the safety of your room.

Being one of your oldest friends, and therefore knowing you the best, Bruce can see every little sign of your anxiety building up and threatening to consume you. The rough feeling of his calloused thumb against your cheek helps with grounding you. 

“Breathe,” he reminds you. “Everything will be fine. You do know most of them.”

“Except for the one you seem most excited for me to meet,” you reply. 

“I just think that the two of you will hit if off,” he shrugs. 

“So you’re playing matchmaker now? What, did you get bored of your cowl?”

“Everyone needs a hobby.” He links his arm with yours and begins to lead you toward the manor’s garden, where everyone else is. “Besides, if you really do start to panic you know that either I or Selina will step in and whisk you away to a quiet room.”

“I know and I’m so grateful to the both of you for that.”

Since your diagnosis, the both of them have gone above and beyond to make sure that you feel safe and supported whilst you seek help and figure out how to manage it. Even being miles away from them, you haven’t been left to feel like you’re all alone. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to repay them for all everything they’ve done for you.

Before you know it, you and Bruce have reached the doors to the garden. They’re wide open, letting the summer air into the manor and you could easily hear the conversations going on. Taking a deep breath, you let him lead you outside. 

He’s right. You do recognise almost everyone and they recognize you, despite the fact that it’s been a few years since you last saw any of them. Barry gives you a toothy grin and waves while the rest take a more reserved approach. A smile here or a small gesture of their hand or head there. Doing their best to not overwhelm you. 

“I’m glad you decided to come,” Selina says as she pulls you away from Bruce and into a hug. You hug her back. Thankful to see your other old friend after so long.

“It’s good to see you, Selina.” 

She smiles at you as she pulls away. “Diana’s over there.”

“Thank you,” Bruce tells her. He leans in close and presses a kiss to her lips. You’re glad that the two of them finally stopped dancing around their feelings and actually got together. They deserve to be happy. Though that very thing is probably why Bruce is playing matchmaker with you right now. He wants you to be happy as well. Like he is.

While you have never met Diana, you have seen her on the tv and the web. Various news reports and footage that spreads across the internet every time that the Justice League stops some alien invasion or super villain attempting to take control of the world, again. In truth, you’ve always had a bit of a crush on her. Thing is you never thought anything would ever come of it until Bruce decided to start introducing you to aspects of his superhero life. Though, now that you think about it, you probably should have suspected something a month ago when he kept bringing her up. 

“Diana. This is…” Bruce introduces you to her. You feel your mouth go dry. She’s even more stunning in real life. Long black hair, the ends dip dyed blue, a red tank, blue jeans and her silver bracelets.

“Hi,” you just about manage, hating how pathetic you must sound. All you want is for the ground to open up and swallow you whole. At the same time, you know now that running away from everything constantly isn’t a way to live.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” she says. “Bruce has told me a lot about you.” 

“Same here,” you reply. 

You both side eye Bruce, who’s doing his best to act completely innocent, like he hasn’t been planning this meeting for ages, but his act is completely transparent. Before either you or Diana can say something, there’s a loud crash. You all turn to where his two eldest sons are suppose to be helping Alfred with setting up the grill, but only seem to be making an absolute mess of it. A long, drawn out and tired sounding sigh leaves Bruce as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“If you’ll excuse me.” 

You and Diana both chuckle as he walks away and both of his sons scatter when they seem him approaching. 

“So, Bruce is playing matchmaker now,” she says, drawing your attention back to her.

“Apparently. He’s happy so everyone else has to be as well. Which is better then him making everyone else miserable.” 

She nods in agreement. 

With the ice now broken, the conversation between the two of you flows easily. Bit by bit your anxiety slowly starts to dissipate and you are not over analysing every last thing that you say. Diana is completely intrigued by your job as a wildlife photographer and the various situations you have managed to get yourself into during your job. From close encounters with the very animals you’re photographing to poachers and trophy hunters. The mention of the latter two visibly angers her and you share her sentiment. They had not been fun encounters at all.

“And you got out of those situations unscathed?” she asks. 

“Mostly. Selina taught me how to defend myself while we were growing up on the streets,” you reply.

“And the men who attacked you? What happened to them?”

“Most of them are behind bars–” you gesture toward where Bruce and Selina are–“Their handiwork as soon as they found out what happened. They’re now trying to forbid me from travelling to the Amazon Rainforest because of it.”

“What if I was to come with you?”

Her offer takes you completely by surprise. You have only just met each other and she’s already offering to travel to a rainforest with you. A trip that’s bound to last a few weeks. 

“I’m sure that it would soothe any fears they have and it would be an opportunity for us to get to know each other without so many other people around,” she continues. “If you want me to join, of course. I don’t want to pressure you.”

“I mean, I’ve only ever gone with colleagues on these trips, but I think it could be a lot of fun if you came along. It would also stop Bruce from constantly blocking me from charting a flight.”

She nods. “It’s agreed then. We’ll go together.”

Afternoon quickly turns into evening and one by one the rest of the leaguers say their goodbyes and leave until it’s just you, Diana, Bruce and Selina. The four of you have long since come inside and have settled in one of the lounges. 

You decide that now is the perfect time to mention what you and her talked about earlier. As soon as you mention the rainforest you can see Bruce visible tense until you say that Diana has offered to come with you. He relaxes at that and even looks a little smug. Sometimes you could really deck him, but you would really rather not break your hand on his face again. 

“It was an absolutely pleasure to meet you,” Diana says. The two of you are standing outside of the manor to say your goodbyes. It’s got quite late and your social battery is so drained you’re ready to curl up in bed and never leave it ever again.

“Same here. I’m glad that Bruce managed to talk me into coming today.” 

“As am I. You’ll text me the details?”

“Yeah. ‘Course.”

You wave goodbye to her and watch until she reaches the end of the drive, then you’re turning away and heading back inside. Bruce is waiting for you, leaning against the bannister of the grand staircase, grinning.

“I told you the two of you would hit it off.” He sounds as smug as he looks.

“Oh, shut up.”

[reaper2187]

Wonder woman x villian female reader

The city of Themyscira was bathed in the soft, golden light of the setting sun. Diana Prince, also known as Wonder Woman, watched as the shadows lengthened across the pristine landscape. She felt a strange sense of calm that evening, a serenity that belied the turmoil of her double life. As a hero, she was committed to fighting evil and protecting the innocent. Yet, she harbored a secret that could shatter everything she stood for.

Diana’s secret was Y/N, known to the world as The Reaper. Y/N was a formidable villain, a master of stealth and strategy, whose plans often brought her into direct conflict with Wonder Woman. Despite their opposing roles, an undeniable connection had blossomed between them, one that neither could ignore.

It had started months ago, during one of their many confrontations. They had been battling in the heart of Metropolis, their powers clashing in a symphony of destruction. Wonder Woman had cornered The Reaper in an abandoned warehouse, prepared to deliver the final blow.

“Give it up, Reaper!” Diana had shouted, her lasso of truth gleaming in her hand.

Y/N had smirked, her eyes flashing with a mix of defiance and something else—something that made Diana’s heart skip a beat. “You know I won’t,” she had replied, her voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down Diana’s spine.

In that moment, something shifted. Instead of striking, Diana had hesitated, allowing The Reaper to escape. Their encounters after that were charged with an intensity that went beyond their roles as hero and villain. It wasn’t long before they found themselves drawn to each other, meeting in secret, away from prying eyes.

Tonight, they had arranged to meet in an isolated glen, hidden deep within the forests surrounding Themyscira. Diana arrived first, her heart pounding with anticipation. She paced nervously, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts. What if someone found out? What if Y/N was playing her?

Before she could dwell too long on her fears, she heard a soft rustle in the bushes. Turning, she saw Y/N step into the clearing, her dark costume blending seamlessly with the shadows. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them ceased to exist.

“Diana,” Y/N said, her voice soft and filled with affection.

Diana closed the distance between them in a few strides, pulling Y/N into a tight embrace. “Y/N,” she whispered, burying her face in the crook of her lover’s neck. “I’ve missed you.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around Diana, holding her close. “I’ve missed you too,” she murmured. They stood like that for a long time, savoring the warmth and comfort of each other’s presence.

Eventually, they pulled apart, though their hands remained entwined. They sat down on the soft grass, leaning against each other. The forest around them was alive with the sounds of nature, a gentle symphony that provided the perfect backdrop for their stolen moments.

“How have you been?” Diana asked, her thumb brushing over Y/N’s knuckles.

“Busy,” Y/N replied with a wry smile. “Trying to stay one step ahead of you is no easy feat.”

Diana chuckled, a warm, melodious sound that made Y/N’s heart flutter. “I suppose it isn’t. But you seem to manage it quite well.”

Y/N’s smile faded slightly, and she turned to look at Diana, her expression serious. “Diana, we need to talk about us.”

Diana’s heart clenched with fear. “What do you mean?”

“This,” Y/N gestured between them. “It’s dangerous. If anyone found out, it could destroy us both.”

Diana sighed, knowing Y/N was right. Their relationship was a precarious balancing act, one that could tip into disaster at any moment. “I know,” she said quietly. “But I can’t give you up, Y/N. I love you.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, and she cupped Diana’s cheek, her thumb brushing gently over her skin. “I love you too, Diana. More than you know. But we have to be careful.”

Diana leaned into Y/N’s touch, her eyes closing briefly as she savored the sensation. “I don’t want to be careful,” she admitted. “I want to be with you. Completely.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. The vulnerability in Diana’s voice was both heartbreaking and beautiful. “I want that too,” she whispered. “But we have to find a way to make it work. Without risking everything.”

Diana opened her eyes, meeting Y/N’s gaze. “We will,” she said with determination. “We’ll find a way.”

Over the next few weeks, Diana and Y/N continued to meet in secret, their love for each other growing stronger with each stolen moment. They devised intricate plans to ensure their meetings went unnoticed, using their skills and resources to cover their tracks. Despite the constant danger, they found solace in each other’s arms, a refuge from the chaos of their lives.

One evening, as they lay together under the stars, Diana turned to Y/N, a thoughtful expression on her face. “What if we didn’t have to hide?” she asked.

Y/N frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“What if we found a way to work together?” Diana suggested. “To use our skills for good, instead of fighting each other?”

Y/N considered this, a spark of hope igniting in her chest. “You think we could?”

“I know we could,” Diana said with conviction. “We’re stronger together, Y/N. We could make a real difference.”

Y/N smiled, the idea filling her with a sense of possibility. “You’re right. We could be unstoppable.”

From that night on, they began to plot a new course. By day, they maintained their roles as hero and villain, playing their parts to perfection. But in the shadows, they worked together, using their combined strength and intelligence to tackle threats that neither could face alone.

Months passed, and their secret alliance bore fruit. Crime rates dropped, and a new, mysterious force began to be whispered about in the criminal underworld. The world saw the results, but no one knew the true source of this new power.

One night, after a particularly challenging mission, Diana and Y/N returned to their secluded glen. Exhausted but elated, they collapsed onto the grass, their laughter echoing through the trees.

“We did it,” Y/N said, her eyes shining with pride.

Diana turned to her, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Yes, we did.”

Y/N reached out, her fingers intertwining with Diana’s. “I don’t know what the future holds,” she said softly. “But I know that as long as we’re together, we can face anything.”

Diana squeezed her hand, her heart swelling with love. “I feel the same way,” she replied. “Together, we’re unstoppable.”

As the moon rose high above them, casting its silver light over the glen, Diana and Y/N lay side by side, their hands still clasped. In that moment, they knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, their love would see them through.

The world continued to turn, filled with its endless battles and conflicts. But in the quiet moments, in the hidden corners of the world, Diana and Y/N found peace. They were heroes and villains, lovers and fighters, bound together by a love that defied the very forces that sought to tear them apart.

And in the end, that love was their greatest strength.

[tigerlillyruiz]

Please send me some prompts

- can be female reader inserts, or lady characters loving lady characters, can be platonic, siblings, or even poly, ill even do crossovers 😁

Fandoms ill write for:

Steven universe

the gems

Uncharted the lost legacy

Chloe

Nadine

The 100

Lexa

Anya

Clarke

Octavia

Raven

Once upon a time

Regina

Emma

Ruby

Mulan

Twilight

Leah

Rose

Kate

Wonder woman

Diana

Supergirl

Kara

Alex

Lena

Marvel

Natasha

Wanda

Val

Carol

She-ra and the princesses of power

Adora

Catra

Glimmer

Scorpia

Mermista

If I'm missing someone ask and ill let you know if I do them.

Its been a very hard year and I'm trying to get back to writing so this will help

[oracle610]

WONDER WOMAN/DIANA PRINCE X FEM READER ❤️💛

NSFW!!!!

She cheats on you with five men 😭

[smalls-words]

Wounds of the Skin Often Reflect the Heart

no major new writing but I can at least type properly now! I do however have a little blurb for you all :)

Working at the Hall of Justice was more of a fun time than others thought. Your family, Kara and Kal-El, were there, with their large ‘S’ suits adorned on their bodies whilst you were a… helper of sorts. Sometimes you helped Alfred and Bruce with tech, other times you helped test something for Barry or make notes as he ran tests. You’d even talked to the Green Lanterns, who behind your back, thought you were incredibly worthy of a ring. 

However, the person who you least talked to was Diana. 

That very Amazon knocked on your office door as you worked through a report for Barry, coming up to lean against your desk. “Hey, Y/N.” 

“Hello.” You replied, writing steadily.

“How are you?” She asked.

“Good. You?” 

“I’m… good…” She said awkwardly. “Listen, I was hoping to get to know you better. What interests do you have?” 

“I enjoy music, sports, video games, and hanging with my family, amongst other things.” You answered easily. 

“That’s quite a variety.” She commented, following you after you stood up from your position and started to walk to Barry’s lab. 

“I quite enjoy music and sports too. What is your favourite of both?” 

As you answered, she seemed to notice how off you were acting. You seemed robotic, almost lifeless. She stopped flying above and landed in front of you, concerned. “Are you okay?” 

“Just fine.” You replied before you walked around her. 

Diana was not happy with that answer. She caught up, trying to stop you again. “Y/N, seriously. You don’t seem alright. It’s like you have this… aura coming off of you.” 

“Oh. Sorry.” You said shortly, and just like that, Diana felt the aura disappear. 

“How…?” She muttered to herself as she watched you walk around her again, though she didn’t chase this time.

[verstarppen]

Hello beautiful human!!! So - I’m in love with the smau’s you make, and I had a thought for one… what about a Logan Sargeant x youngest royal reader (ya know, like a younger sister of Prince Harry and Prince William), and she is completely distanced from her brothers and is in love with/engaged to Logan? I just love the idea 🥰

Hope you have a wonderful day!!!

summary; not to flex, but how many f1 drivers can say they're dating a princess?

pairing; logan sargeant x fem! princess! reader [ no faceclaim ]

a/n; for legal reasons im afraid of the british royal family and i don't want to get diana-ed so i've made her the princess of a land that may or may not be named after sims medieval please don't kill me; this is my send off to logan, thank you for your service king we love you <3

liked by eagle_hunter_2, ls2bathrug and 2,507,888 others

monarchofslayington Greetings! My butler proposed that it would be delightful to host a Q&A session, given the multitude of inquiries, both digital and handwritten, expressing a keen interest in the culture of Yacothia. Please leave your questions in the comment section.

— Princess Y/N of Yacothia

view all 980,082 comments

benjamin_long_2000 what's it like living in a castle?

monarchofslayington In truth, it is rather tedious and profoundly tranquil—occasionally reaching an ambiance reminiscent of a horror film.

abhijeetdeppiesse DOES THE QUEEN REPLY

monarchofslayington No, it is the princess who does.

jantellerman81 Do you have lots of free time or are you busy all day?

monarchofslayington I lend my support to charitable endeavors, visit events as an esteemed representative of my family, and intermittently travel to bolster diplomatic relations with foreign nations. Nevertheless, I reserve Sundays for respite.

eagle_hunter_2 Are you looking for a prince?

monarchofslayington Perchance eagle_hunter_2 You can't just say perchance

liked by ls2bathrug, oscarpiastri, yacothiaracing and 672,361 others

logansargeant Big fan of Yachothia's unemployed driver support group

view all 51,451 comments

danielricciardo Aren't we all

yacothiaracing hey king

francolapinto i'm also seatless for next year so if you'd be so kind to help me slide into their dms

logansargeant I've got you, brother danielricciardo Mate francolapinto @ yacothiaracing are you my iron deficiency because i'm falling for you yacothiaracing sold dannielricciardo You can't be serious francolapinto ;)

liked by monarchofslayington, logansargeant, yacothiaracing and 988,984 others

fernandoalo_oficial Perfect night 🎉😀👏🏻

view all 320,842 comments

maxverstappen1 Night club so good I might buy another cat

monarchofslayington It would be an honour

realmvettel THE PRINCESS IN THE LIKES STOPPPP

julyestie i don't think people realize how crazy this is, imagine the prince of monaco likes charles' post armstrongslayer look at her following the whole grid is there lmaooo

logansargeant Thank you for letting me join

fernandoalo_oficial You're still a part of this logansargeant Who's cutting onions

liked by monarchofslayington, alex_albon, logansargeant and 213,951 others

lilymhe If Alfred had instagram he would've liked this post

view all 80,415 comments

monarchofslayington I am perpetually able to engage with social media via Her Highness, esteemed madam. - Alfred

alex_albon Can you share your Soup au pistou recipe monarchofslayington I shall not, good sir. alex_albon damn it

smilesargeant oh my god he's smashing a princess i never had a chance did i

forzapluto you and me both sister

ls2bathrug I am ever delighted to extend to you the gracious invitation of a visit 😊

ls2bathrug wait ls2bathrug fuck logansargeant Wrong account, doll ls2bathrug yes thank you captain obvious i hadn't noticed ls2bathrug STOP BLOWING UP MY NOTIFICATIONS YOU DEMONS

liked by alex_albon, logansargeant, yacothiaracing and 1,252,352 others

monarchofslayington i can finally say this THAT'S MY BOYFRIENDDDDD HE'S MINEEEE

view all 542,098 comments

verstappler "how were we supposed to know" HER NAME IS MONARCH OF SLAYINGTON

papayasalad I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE IT

monarchofslayington i'll always be your rug, lando enjoyer

logansargeant 😘

monarchofslayington are you flirting with me or smthin

francolapinto the seat deal is still on right

monarchofslayington hmmmmm francolapinto was your mom an artist because she made a masterpiece logansargeant 😐

pic credits; instagram and pinterest

fic-specific taglist; @spilled-coffee-cup @onecojg @cixrosie @sheridamn @namgification @thehufflepuffavenger1 @sxrcxsm26 @mehrmonga @mellowarcadefun @dark-night-sky-99 @multifandomwhore-003 @theblueblub @julezstinkz @vamplyle @yuki-tsunodas @ttokkisbee @eloriis @raizelchrysanderoctavius @itseightbeats @nitiii @i-m-in-loki-s-army @prettymonegasque

blog taglist; @wtfisakilometer2 @aexitizen-ln4 @biitch-with-wifi @localwhoore @redbullphantasmagoria @cixrosie @sheridamn @weunstan @namgification @whatislifebutlemons @demvnsriot @stinkyjax @sxrcxsm26 @beskardroids @tbsloneely @mehrmonga @marymustdie @mellowarcadefun @geniusalpaca @theblueblub @ayrtonsennatea @resident-swiftie @moonraysandstars @tellybearryyyy @coffeehurricanes @vamplyle @mrsmelinda @ttokkisbee @eloriis @raizelchrysanderoctavius @ln8118 @neferaskingdom @emppusofi @itseightbeats @nitiii @abunchofbutterflies @kiki-sleeps

(there are so many references in this it's insane)

[animasola86]

F o r g e t f u l 🎀 3 / 4

After you fainted, you find yourself in a different position, even more vulnerable than before, subject to a punishment you don't deserve. Or do you? And why does it excite you so much?

a dominant woman X a submissive girl with a memory problem

WARNINGS: F!Reader-insert! NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Mistress/pet. Domme/sub. Manipulation. Gaslighting. Praise kink. Dubcon elements. Humiliation. Exhibition(ism). Bondage. Impact play (canes, floggers, paddles, riding crops). Fingering. Forced orgasm. Squirting. Object insertion. Vaginal fisting. (More tags on AO3.) WORDS: 5k

A/N: As this is still a scene with a mixed audience, it's implied that Reader gets fingered by a man. If you don't like that, you can imagine somebody else of course. It's barely mentioned, just a bit of a size difference to what she knew before, so technically not that big of a deal. I wanted to warn you nevertheless! (I don't even know why I mention this tiny detail when the whole chapter is full of things that are much, much worse... so beware: this is the roughest part of the series.)

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And then there's pain. A sudden slap, then another, left cheek, right cheek, your head whipping around under the force. You gasp, mouth wide open, eyelids fluttering, and as your eyes open fully, you stare ahead in shock, realizing it's not over yet, but the relief is tainted by a deep hurt, a coughing fit that makes you keel over, which you can, surprisingly. No more leather strap on your stomach, no more ties around your wrists and ankles.

You can lean in and cough your heart out, raspy breaths trying to find their way into your lungs. The pain is all around you for a moment, until you slowly calm down again, pushed back into soft cushions, a hand wiping at your sweat-slick skin. You blink your eyes into focus and see your roommate. Mistress. The beautiful woman who decided to make you her pet. Somehow there's clarity in this moment, as air floods your system, reviving your numb body with agonizing tingles.

No more dildo gag stuffed in your throat, no more restraints. What happened? You probably fainted. Did you ruin the scene? Fear crashes through you as you find Mistress' eyes. They are hard and dark, but there's something else on her pretty face: concern. For you? Or for the event she planned for such a long time? You reach up a shaking hand, trying to connect to her, your lips parting, but no words coming out.

The muscle in her jaw twitches before she looks away, nodding to someone you can't see. Hands grab you, no longer groping or exploring, but grabbing and gripping, forcing you into a sitting position before they turn you around onto your stomach. You let it happen, you're too weak to protest, still caught in your mind, fighting the guilt creeping up on you. Your arms and legs are strapped to the extensions of the table again, leaving you in a spread-eagle position, it's just your head that hangs off the edge.

There's no strap around your back, holding you down, allowing whoever is handling you to pull your hips up so your ass is sticking out more. A pillow is propped under your stomach to help with the elevation. You breathe deeply, forcing yourself to calm down somehow. The position feels familiar, but you can't remember any pictures depicting it. No. But there are other memories that suddenly flush your clouded mind. And they don't make it any better.

A helpless sniffle escapes you, reminding the people around you that you can issue noises, and apparently that's not something they want to hear. Someone grabs your chin, pulls your head up, you blink, trying to see anything, but before you can, something is stuffed into your mouth, holding your teeth open. At least it's not another dildo gag obstructing your throat. But the motion triggers more memories, hazy ones, red ones, of pain...

Instinctively you bite down on the object, it's soft but sturdy, allowing your teeth to sink in some while not allowing for anything else. You feel your saliva trickling past your lips and down your chin, the drip of it swallowed by the shuffling noises around you.

“My dear guests, there has been a slight change of plans,” you hear Mistress' voice, velvety, raw, vibrating through your core like a gentle caress. Though her words don't calm you in the slightest. “Seems like my pet decided to faint on us a little too early, the poor thing. I apologize, I know we haven't really started yet. You will still get your turn with her, do not worry. But to get her back on track and focused, I need your help. For those willing, my assistants will provide a variety of impact play items to you, please choose one each and gather around the table.”

Your nape tingles, deep shivers crashing down your spine as you whine into your gag, struggling against your restraints. A hand presses on your back, holding you still. Your breaths are erratic, your lips trembling as you part them, more spit running down your chin.

“If you may, you will take turns. Please remember that only the flogger and the whip may hit her back, focus any other item on her rear and thighs. Canes can impact her palms and soles.”

Mistress' instructions send even more shudders down your body, and to your growing horror, you feel how someone twists your arms to turn your hands palm up. Someone else starts pulling off your shoes, before your stockings follow. Your garter belt is gone too.

Now completely naked and vulnerable, strapped to a table, with the prospect of being spanked in various ways, you feel your heart thundering in your chest, your breaths frantic, and maybe if you force yourself into hyperventilating, you can faint again and won't have to witness any of this. But someone seems to notice when you feel two hands on your head, pulling it up slightly before a face appears in your blurred vision.

Mistress. “Pet, I need you to calm down,” she says sternly. “Do not fight this, it will only make it worse. You know that, right?”

You want to shake your head, staring at her pleadingly. How should you know this? You've never been spanked before, or have you? Well. There are faint memories, but then again, there were no pictures. No lasting marks on your body that would suggest anything like this. Or maybe you just can't remember? A pathetic sniffle makes it past the silicone bar between your teeth.

“Bite down on your gag, relax, breathe deeply. You will have enough time to react and process each blow. I am not cruel, you know that, but you fainted on me, and you came without permission, remember?”

You frown at her, wanting to protest (how were you supposed to ask for your orgasm with a dildo rammed down your throat?), but she clicks her tongue and shakes her head, her hand rubbing along your cheek.

“Be a good girl for me, okay? Don't embarrass me now,” she says, giving you a pointed look. “I know you can endure this. You've done so before. Your body can handle it. Just let go, pretty girl,” she adds softly, leaning in to press her full lips to your sweaty forehead. “Do it for me.”

Your stomach fills with a strange heat, and you find yourself nodding into her hand. She smiles at you, further pushing you down a road you don't want to be on, but you know you have to, you want to, for her. Anything for her.

She lets go of you and steps away, her fingers brushing along your tense shoulders. You focus on your breathing, ignoring the tingling of your limbs, and worst of all: the arousal settling deep in your core. How can this possibly arouse you? What is wrong with you? But soon the doubts and questions grow quieter as anticipation makes you anxious, and giddy.

An eerie silence settles all around you, until you hear Mistress' voice again. “Allow me to deliver the first blow,” she narrates what can only be your downfall.

You brace to her words, wondering what object she chose. Strangely enough you feel her fingers between your spread legs, pointy fingernails scraping over sensitive flesh. She seems to stand right between your thighs, one hand resting on your hip, the other exploring your folds.

“Look at this,” she says to the audience you cannot see. “She wants this. She gets off on it.” Her fingers dip into your slick, a lewd squelching sound echoing through the quiet room. You feel your cheeks burning up in embarrassment. “So do not hesitate when you play with her. She can handle this. Give her your best shot.”

And with that she lets go of your hip before her flat hand finds your right ass cheek with a reverberating slap, the impact so severe your whole body jerks against your restraints, a muffled scream trying to make it past your gag. A deep pain settles right beneath your skin, scorching and throbbing, but with her fingers suddenly slipping into your cunt, you feel conflicted.

She's curling them, pressing her fingertips into your soft flesh, before she hits the same ass cheek again, the same spot, and you clench hard around her digits, crying out, back arching, hips bucking, the pain so intense it bleeds into a strange kind of pleasure. And it was just her hand, you realize through the red fog in your head. You can't even imagine what other objects may feel like on your skin.

Of course you don't have to wait long. Mistress keeps her fingers in your pulsing pussy (you realize she is the only one not wearing gloves) as she starts directing her planned out event. “If you may, we will start with a cane to the palm. Proceed.”

You hate how she announces it, it only makes it worse, knowing where to expect the pain, it makes you flinch even before the thin item hits you. Though when it does, hard and sharp and sudden after all, you scream into your gag, convulsing hard on the table, trying to pull your hand away or turn it, but the ties around your wrists sit too tight. As you still process the stinging pain radiating from your palm, a weird throbbing thing sitting right under your skin, your other hand is hit with the same sensation, a rapid whoosh in the air, a hard and precise hit, causing you to writhe and shriek again.

As you struggle you feel someone holding down your fingers to keep your hand in position. It feels warm, your blood pumping erratically into the welts you're sure are blooming on your palms. All the while, Mistress' fingers sit still in your cunt, a gentle pressure, and you try to focus on that, on her making sure you're still okay during this endeavor.

“Feet next,” she says, and you sniffle, curling your toes in anticipation, but when the cane hits the bare sole of your left foot, it's like nothing you've ever felt. Even more painful than on your hands, the wooden stick thrashes against your soft skin, digging deep, or so it feels, a sting like a stab right into your nerves. You wail helplessly, body jerking, hips grinding against Mistress' hand.

To your biggest shame, your walls clench tightly around her fingers, muscles contracting as the pain crashes through your body, turning into a burning wave of pleasure – only to be disrupted by another sharp sting to your other foot, leaving you lightheaded and breathless as you bite down hard on the gag in your mouth.

“Thank you,” you hear the velvety voice from seemingly far away, even though she is still standing between your legs. “How do you think she's done? Will we allow her one orgasm? What do you say? Aye or no?”

Hushed voices echo through the room, barely able to penetrate the thick fog in your head. The pain still throbs warm and unrelenting under your bruised skin, your heart thundering in the same rhythm. A chorus of “Aye!” breaks through your dizziness, and you sigh against your gag when you feel the fingers in your cunt moving, in and out, slowly, the pad of her fingertips rubbing over your sensitive spots, poking and prodding.

“Come on, pet, you heard the people. Come for us, show us what you can do,” Mistress chants behind you, pushing and pulling her digits in and out faster, her thumb pressing hard onto the plug you've almost forgotten about.

Your whimpers are muffled, your stomach tensing up under her ministrations. Her hand moves in a quick sawing motion, her pinky brushing against your clit while her other fingers are pressed deeper into your fluttering cunt, thumb teasing your ass. In and out it goes, faster, harder, and the heat builds, wet and scorching deep inside you. You thrash in your restraints, hips stuttering, thighs twitching, the squelching noises growing louder and more obscene.

You couldn't care less, panting into your gag, eyes squeezed shut, focused on riding this high for as long as you're allowed. Mistress gets even faster, really ramming her hand against you, into you, parting your tense muscles until you suddenly freeze, almost choking on your own breath as your orgasm comes crashing down on you hard, the sensation so intense your body convulses uncontrollably, twitching against the fingers poking deep, and when they suddenly retreat, leaving you gaping and spasming around nothing, something warm and wet shoots from your core in twitchy jets, and a strange wave of awing noises washes over you.

Your core keeps trembling, pussy pulsing, the relief so intense you can barely breathe, before you collapse onto the table, completely exhausted. A wet hand wipes over your throbbing ass cheek, giving it a gentle slap you barely register.

“Well done, pet, what a show,” Mistress says through the cotton in your head. “Let's see if we can make her squirt again. Commence the play, ladies and gentlemen. Floggers next.”

Her words reach your brain, but they don't make much sense. You're still somewhat floating, pleasure bigger than the pain that comes when you feel the various tails of the whip hit your upper back. It's almost a caress, a gentle stroking, but unlike the cane hits, they are not reduced to just one. Someone keeps hitting the soft leather bands against your back, and each blow gets stronger, harder, until the pain finally settles under your skin, making you squirm and cry out into your gag.

The warm throbbing is spread out more, some spots more sensitive than others, but you're not allowed to focus on them, or turn them into pleasure even, when Mistress announces the next object. You can't really hear what it is, you only notice that her voice sounds from above your head now, and shortly after, you hear the clicking of her camera. Your core is hopelessly empty now, still spasming a little, with your muscles clenching around the butt plug instead.

Bracing for whatever comes next, you are still not ready when it hits you, the sudden impact a loud echoing thud, before the pain crashes through your nerves. Something wide and flat has hit your left ass cheek, and through the shivers, you feel someone standing behind you between your legs, a gloved hand gripping the base of your plug. You whimper against your gag, grinding your hips to get away from the sensation, but whoever is in charge is unrelenting, poking and pulling at the plug before you feel your muscles giving way to release it.

With it gone, you feel something warm and wet dripping from your clenching hole. The lube, you remember faintly, and you focus back on the memory of Mistress preparing your ass. You'd go back to that ten times over, anything but the continued pain from being spanked. A different set of fingers pokes at your sphincter, larger and thicker than a woman's hand, and you squirm, feeling the burning sting of your hole being stretched, muscles protesting, cold air hitting your heated flesh.

It's a strange sensation when the digits drill into you in a turning motion, pushing deep and with force, and you clench around them instinctively. At the same time as you feel knuckles pressing against your rim, another dull thud, a reverberating slap, makes your body jerk, your ass cheek burning under the flat surface of what you can only assume to be a paddle. It hits you again, and the fingers move inside your ass, in and out, forcing against your tense muscles, as you wail helplessly, hot tears streaming down your already warm cheeks.

A rhythm begins, fingers push in, the paddle comes down, stretch, slap, pain, fingers pull out, relief, fingers go back in, stab, push, drill deeper, another paddle blow, always on the same spot, pain blooms deep within you, it's all around, spreading, hot and heavy, tingling, throbbing, igniting the bruises on your palms and soles, and on your back, and still there's a strangely soothing heat building in your core.

Your muscles contract around the invading digits, your hole puckering around them, the motion getting faster, the paddle blows quicker, until they bleed together, and you scream a muffled scream as your body convulses uncontrollably, the mixture of pain and pleasure sinking right into your clit, and it throbs and pulses, your cunt clenching around nothing, and still you come, hard, thighs twitching, toes curling, straining your bruised skin, all of it combines into an orgasm that leaves you dizzy and seeing stars dancing at the edge of your vision.

The fingers in your ass disappear, replaced with the plug again, but instead of tensing around the narrow neck, your muscles pull it in, too loose to assume their original state, and you feel it slipping in all the way, deeper than before, though nobody seems to care, and before you know it, you feel something solid press against your pussy, a hard edge forcing its way into your entrance, but it doesn't quite seem to fit.

“Try the handle first,” you hear a faint voice. “You have to fuck her open, the tight little thing.”

The words make you even more dizzy, and you tense up badly when you feel something being pushed into you, slow but relentlessly, prodding until it slips in, swallowed by your clenching walls. You groan into your gag at the pressure and stretch, a strange fullness adding to the overall tenseness of your body. You try to breathe against it, adjust to it, but it only makes your heart beat faster when you realize it doesn't change anything.

The item in your cunt is moved then, pulled out and pushed in, its edges dragging along your soft flesh, poking at the plug stuck in your ass. At first the rhythm is almost relaxing, a continuous thrusting, but then whoever controls it, gets bored and impatient, and it goes from a slow in and out to a rapid pumping, and you gasp and moan, your muffled noises mixing with the hushed chatter around you.

It's dizzying how fast you're being penetrated, pummeled, hammered, drilled, your muscles giving way, allowing more to slip in, more to push deeper, and a strange pain like a stab crashes through your nerves as it is being pushed as deep as possible, poking right at your cervix. You freeze then, hoping to alleviate the pressure, your breaths erratic, limbs twitching, but it's even worse when it's pulled back with a sudden motion that feels as if you're being split right open.

You're left gaping, empty, your walls fluttering, a deep burning thrumming through your body. It doesn't take long for a new pain to take your breath away. It's bigger, wider at one side, flat, and you know as if seeing it behind your tight eyelids, that the entire paddle is forced into your widened cunt. A low groan escapes you as it fills you up, more and more, pushing deep, aiming straight for your cervix. Stars and black spots dance at the edge of your vision, your body struggling to cope with all the sensations.

For a moment it just sits there, impaling you deeply, the stretch aching low in your stomach. But it gives you time to adjust, at least a little, breathe around it, relax your tense eyebrows, and you even open your eyes (not that you would see anything but feet and legs in your current position). Drool keeps dripping from your open mouth, your teeth and jaw aching with how hard you're biting down on the silicone rod, but it's a good distraction from whatever is happening behind you.

Subdued voices, chatter and laughter alike, ring in your ears, the click and shutter noises of a camera taking countless pictures of your predicament, and the memory of finding these pictures in the first place, of seeing your cunt stretched around various objects, gives you a strange sort of comfort, knowing you've done this before, knowing your body can handle it, can return to normal afterward, meaning it may be over soon. Hopefully.

Though looking back, and it's hazy at best, but you try, you realize that, from a spectator's standpoint, nothing much has happened. There was this girl strapped to a table, a dildo gag in her throat, wrists and ankles tied, and strangers were allowed to touch her with gloved hands, cut off her clothes, grope her breasts and poke her cunt. She came once by the fingers of a random person, then bullied herself into unconsciousness for no apparent reason.

Coming back, she had been turned onto her stomach, tied up again, gagged once more, and had to endure cane hits to her palms and soles, a flogger to the back, and a rather tame spanking of her soft ass, then was allowed to come and squirted, before somebody decided to ram a paddle up her pussy. Looking at it this way, you suddenly know it is far from being over.

Something is shifting behind you, the object in your cunt poked and prodded at, pushed further, harder against your cervix, before it is being turned, its flat shape causing your walls to drag along it, the pressure changes, muscles stretched into a different direction, and all you can do is groan and whine at the fullness. It must sit (with its widest part) horizontally now, counter-intuitive to the natural form of your slit, and it burns, the stretch feels forced, making it almost impossible to breathe.

It does, however, allow your ass to relax, and in doing so, you give a little clench, a little push, and the plug that has been swallowed by your tense muscles pops out slightly, seemingly catches on the handle of the paddle poking out of you, before you hear a faint clattering noise when it leaves you that is followed by a strange murmur going through the room. A tsking sound comes to your ear. A hand grabs your chin, pulls up your head. You can still only see someone's legs, the top of their thighs, a black dress sitting tightly around them.

“Oh, pet, you shouldn't have done that,” Mistress coos. You blink tears away, trying to look up but being unable to. “Bring me the riding crop,” she adds, causing you to shiver and breathe harder in an instant.

She lets go of you, and you see her walking away, the clicking of her heels like an ominous echo, a vibration you can feel in your very core. In your attempt to ground yourself, brace for whatever comes next, you clench your hands into fists, using the sudden sting of pain in your palms to distract yourself further. It doesn't help much when the first blow lands on your body, right between your ass cheeks, directly against your puckered hole.

You scream into your gag, body convulsing under the impact, the pain sharp and stinging, and so concentrated it makes you clench around the unyielding object stuck in your cunt, which hurts even more as your muscles can't really get it to move. Your head is spinning, hanging loosely off the table, all the blood that's not pulsing under your bruised skin rushing into it, your limbs twitch with the aftershocks. Another blow hits the same spot, and the pain burns through you like wildfire, igniting every single nerve. You howl hopelessly, your sphincter positively aflame by now.

A third blow lands on it, sending another shock wave through your body, this one accompanied by a sudden motion in your cunt as the paddle is being pulled out slightly, only to be shoved back in with force, hard, unrelenting, parting your soft flesh, sinking deep, poking your furthest point with agonizing precision. Your noises bleed into muffled whines and grunts and cries, your body overwhelmed by all the different sensations. You feel even more lightheaded and breathless as the motion repeats, quicker and quicker, rapid sawing motions of an object that wasn't designed to fit into a human like this.

Add to that the throbbing pain in your asshole, and you find yourself on the verge of fainting all over again. But amidst the searing pain, a bubble of something hot grows bigger, expanding inside you, easing your nerves, your muscles, and for a moment it feels good, good enough for your whines to morph into moans, your body shuddering under the assault of sensations, and as it reaches its peak, when your back arches and your eyes roll back, when your hips stutter and your cunt flutters around the object plunging in and out, you find yourself floating, frozen in time and space for a few seconds as pure bliss explodes around you like fireworks.

With your mind filled with burning cotton that takes over everything, the aches of your body barely register, they're just a faint thrumming, throbbing, stinging, a numbing pain that doesn't matter as you ride your high – and when the paddle is pulled from your depths, a last impossible stretch, you think it's finally over, you can finally sink into the void, but luck is not on your side.

Something else replaced the rigid object, something warmer, a bit softer, and it slips into your cunt with ease, making you groan, your muscles clenching around it. And just as you slowly come down from your high, the thing inside you starts moving, and you feel it, its shape, its strength, what its attached to.

At first it's a gentle pushing and pulling, a barely there back and forth motion, before it begins to pummel your insides with not so gentle bumps, internal little nudges that stretch your walls, and you realize it's a hand, its knuckles dragging over your soft flesh, your depths molding into its shape as it pushes and pushes, a literal fist giving your cervix tiny little punches.

And the more it moves, the stranger it all feels, the rougher its movements, bigger swings, deeper pushes, and all you can do is squirm on the table, struggle against your restraints, howl into your gag, your body convulsing erratically as the fist keeps pummeling into your depths with force and vigor, eager to push you over the edge all over again.

Pain and pleasure melt together into a whirlwind of sensations, leaving you breathless and lightheaded, crying and groaning, moaning and wailing, until you lose all control over your limbs and muscles as they twitch and spasm, and your core weeps, your wetness squelching out with every plunge of the hand. It changes form then, gets thinner, pointier, still hacking away inside of you, unrelenting, bullying all those sensitive spots that give yet another layer to the strange mixture of pain and pleasure.

You can barely breathe, barely function, and it all ends when the fist is being pulled from your tightening walls with a sudden tug, leaving you gaping, your muscles clenching in confusion, but the heat just shoots out of you in erratic spasms, as you groan and grunt and moan into your gag, head spinning, body just twitching, no longer yours.

Before you can fall into nothingness, however, you hear a set of footsteps, then two hands grab your face, one is wet and warm, the other almost cool in contrast. A soothing shushing sound comes to your ears, and you blink your eyes into focus, or you try, everything's blurry, there's a thrumming ache all around you, mixed with an overwhelming feeling of weightlessness. The leather strap around your head is loosened, relieving the strain on your jaw as the gag falls away, allowing a little river of drool to leave your mouth. The hands are back to wipe at it, clean your chin and your trembling lips.

“My good girl,” you hear Mistress' velvety voice close to you as she leans her forehead against yours, crouched before you as she is, and you blink again, trying to see her pretty face, her deep eyes, and the first thing you do see is the smile on her full lips. “You've been so good. Look at you, you took this so well. Such a good girl,” she keeps praising you, rubbing your sweat-slick cheeks, her wet thumb brushing against your bottom lip and into your mouth, making you taste something sweet and tangy, and you realize it's your own taste. But you can barely react to it, it doesn't matter anyway. You did good, she said so, you made her proud, right?

She leans in and presses her lips to yours, a short but sweet kiss that tingles in the back of your cloudy mind. You wish you would have the strength to reply to her ministrations, but you can't really move, still stuck in a place outside of your own body, though she keeps peppering your face with gentle pecks, brushing your hair out of your forehead, caressing your jaw, cradling your head. She's so gentle, and the contrast to how she treated the rest of your body makes you shudder deeply.

Slowly you come back to yourself, your limbs itching, your butt hurting, your cunt throbbing. You let out a little groan against her lips, and she leans away, watching you. “Do you need a break, pet?” she asks quietly, and you want to tell her to stop it altogether, no breaks, breaks mean it will continue eventually, and you can't keep going like this. Everything hurts, you feel so empty and boneless. But seeing her so close to you, still feeling the tingles of her kisses, how can you say no to this woman?

“Yes, please, Mistress,” you croak out, your voice nothing more than a rasping breath spilling from your swollen lips, raw and rough from all the voiceless screaming, but she understands you all the same. She nods, caressing your cheek, before she stands up and addresses the people you completely forgot about by now.

“Ladies and gentlemen, dear guests, I thank you for your attention and participation thus far. We are taking a little break, so if you like, I invite you to grab another drink and some snacks from the buffet in the entrance hall. We will be back shortly.”

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End notes: Well. Was the ending worth all the horrors before that? I hope so. More aftercare in the next chapter, we're through the worst, I promise! Stay tuned!

Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Saturday!

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

𝟬𝟭 ▎MASTERLIST . . . 🜲 ⺌

This vessel,

this vessel is a lie,

a shapeshifting beast,

a lesson in fluidity.

꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚︶꒷꒥꒷ ‧₊˚ ꒰ฅ˘ω˘ฅ꒱ ˚₊ ‧ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷˚‧₊꒷꒥꒷

COMICS,

SERIES

& MOVIES

(HEROES) . . . ✦

DC. . . !

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

KAL-EL | CLARK KENT | SUPERMAN.

Its Evolution, Baby! Pt.1 Pt.2 (Yandere! Justice League x Inmortal! Reader)

Kamikaze Girl! Pt.1 (Yandere! Batfamily x Superbat Clone! Fem! Reader x Yandere! Superfamily. Platonic Fic)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

BRUCE WAYNE | BATMAN.

Silly Little Bat Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 | 1 (Yandere! Batfamily x Anti-hero! Fem! Reader. Platonic Fic)

Kamikaze Girl! Pt.1 (Yandere! Batfamily x Superbat Clone! Fem! Reader x Yandere! Superfamily. Platonic Fic)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

DIANA PRINCE | WONDER WOMAN.

To the future (What If! Diana Prince x Wife! Reader) Pt.1

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

BARRY ALLEN | FLASH.

JOHN STEWART | GREEN LANTERN.

ARTHUR CURRY | AQUAMAN.

J'ONM J'ONZZ | MARTIAN MANHUNTER.

MARI MCCABE | VIXEN.

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

JON SAMUEL KENT |

SUPERBOY/SUPERMAN

Kamikaze Girl! Pt.1 (Yandere! Batfamily x Superbat Clone! Fem! Reader x Yandere! Superfamily. Platonic Fic)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

DAMIAN WAYNE | ROBIN.

Kamikaze Girl! Pt.1 (Yandere! Batfamily x Superbat Clone! Fem! Reader x Yandere! Superfamily. Platonic Fic)

Silly Little Bat Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 | 1 (Yandere! Batfamily x Anti-hero! Fem! Reader. Platonic Fic)

The Wildcard Pt.1 Pt.2 (Mother! Harley Quinn x Child/Teen! Reader. Platonic Fic)

Ponyo! ( What If! Damian Wayne x Ponyo! Reader. Platonic Fic) Pt.1

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

TIM DRAKE | RED ROBIN.

Silly Little Bat Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.t5 | 1 (Yandere! Batfamily x Anti-hero! Fem! Reader. Platonic Fic)

Kamikaze Girl! Pt.1 (Yandere! Batfamily x Superbat Clone! Fem! Reader x Yandere! Superfamily. Platonic Fic)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

JASON TODD | RED HOOD.

Silly Little Bat Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 | 1 (Yandere! Batfamily x Anti-hero! Fem! Reader. Platonic Fic)

Kamikaze Girl! Pt.1 (Yandere! Batfamily x Superbat Clone! Fem! Reader x Yandere! Superfamily. Platonic Fic)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

DICK GRAYSON | NIGHTWING.

Silly Little Bat Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 | 1 (Yandere! Batfamily x Anti-hero! Fem! Reader. Platonic Fic)

Pierrot, the Sad Clown (Yandere! Dick Grayson x Villain! Reader tw.noncon)

Kamikaze Girl! Pt.1 (Yandere! Batfamily x Superbat Clone! Fem! Reader x Yandere! Superfamily. Platonic Fic)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

BARBARA GORDON | ORACLE.

Silly Little Bat Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 | 1 (Yandere! Batfamily x Anti-hero! Fem! Reader. Platonic Fic)

Kamikaze Girl! Pt.1 (Yandere! Batfamily x Superbat Clone! Fem! Reader x Yandere! Superfamily. Platonic Fic)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

CASSANDRA CAIN | ORPHAN/BATGIRL.

Silly Little Bat Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 | 1 (Yandere! Batfamily x Anti-hero! Fem! Reader. Platonic Fic)

Kamikaze Girl! Pt.1 (Yandere! Batfamily x Superbat Clone! Fem! Reader x Yandere! Superfamily. Platonic Fic )

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

STEPHANIE BROWN | SPOILER.

Silly Little Little Bat Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 | 1 (Yandere! Batfamily x Anti-hero! Fem! Reader. Platonic Fic)

Kamikaze Girl! Pt.1 (Yandere! Batfamily x Superbat Clone! Fem! Reader. x Yandere! Superfamily. Platonic Fic)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

DUKE THOMAS | THE SIGNAL.

Kamikaze Girl! Pt.1 (Yandere! Batfamily x Superbat Clone! Fem! Reader. x Yandere! Superfamily. Platonic Fic)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

CONNER KENT | SUPERBOY.

The Jubilee (YJ! Conner Kent x reader)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

Kamikaze Girl! Pt.1 (Yandere! Batfamily x Superbat Clone! Fem! Reader. x Yandere! Superfamily. Platonic Fic)

LEX LUTHOR.

WALLY WEST | KID FLASH.

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

HARLEEN QUINZEL | HARLEY QUINN.

The Wildcard Pt.1 Pt.2 (Mother! Harley Quinn x Child/Teen! Reader. Platonic Fic)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

SELINA KYLE | CATWOMAN.

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

PAMELA ISLEY | POISON IVY.

Silly Little Bat Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 | 1 (Yandere! Batfamily x Anti-hero! Fem! Reader. Platonic Fic)

But, I love Ivy (Pamela Isley x Fem! Reader/Silly Little Bat. Tw. Smut)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

LADY SHIVA | DAVID NICOLE

TALIA AL GHUL

KILLAWOG | BONDAGE

ENCHANTRESS | JUNE MOONE

VULCANA | VULCA

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

LIVEWIRE | LESLIE L. WILLEM

Voicenote (STAS! Livewire x Male! Reader. Tw.smut)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

MERCY GRAVES

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

KARA ZOR-EL | SUPERGIRL

Kamikaze Girl! Pt.1 (Yandere! Batfamily x Superbat Clone! Fem! Reader x Yandere! Superfamily. Platonic Fic)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

GARFIELD LOGAN | BEASTBOY.

JAIME REYES | BLUEBEETLE.

RACHEL ROTH | RAVEN.

KORIAND'R | STARFIRE.

DINAH LANCE | BLACK CANARY.

OLIVER QUEEN | GREEN ARROW.

ROY HARPER | RED ARROW.

And more..!

MARVEL. . . !

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

BUCKY BARNES | WINTER SOLDIER.

Little Solider (Yandere! James 'Bucky' Barnes x Super Solider! Teen! Reader. Platonic Fic)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

STEVE ROGERS | CAPTAIN AMERICA.

TONY STARK | IRON MAN.

PETER PARKER | SPIDER MAN

NATASHA ROMANOFF | BLACK WIDOW

THOR

BRUCE BANNER / HULK

CLINT BARTON / HAWKEYE

VISION

LOGAN | WOLVERINE

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

SCOTT SUMMERS | CYCLOPS

Devil in Paradise (Yandere! Scott Summers x Mutant! Reader)

Little Pebble (Yandere! Scott Summers x Mutant! Reader. Platonic fic)

Bag of bones (Yandere! Scott Summers x Amnesiac! Reader.)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

KURT WAGNER | NIGHTCRAWLER

Lurks Within Walls (Yandere! Kurt Wagner x Mutant! Reader)

Nocturnal Animal (Yandere Kurt Wagner x Wife! Reader. Tw.Nsfw)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

ERIK LEHNSHERR | MAGNETO

The song of the raven (Yandere Erik Lehnsherr x Raven! Reader x Yandere Charles Xavier. Platonic Fic)

Birdcage (Yandere Erik Lehnsherr x Raven! Reader x Yandere Charles Xavier. Platonic Fic)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

REMY LEBEAU | GAMBIT

Black Sheep (Yandere! Remy LeBeau x Mutant! Reader. Platonic Fic)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

HANK MCCOY | BEAST

Savior Complex (Yandere Hank McCoy x Mutant! Reader. Tw. Slight smut)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

CHARLES XAVIER | PROFESSOR X

The song of the raven (Yandere Erik Lehnsherr x Raven! Reader x Yandere Charles Xavier. Platonic Fic)

Birdcage (Yandere Erik Lehnsherr x Raven! Reader x Yandere Charles Xavier. Platonic Fic)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

ALEX SUMMERS | HAVOK

WARREN WORTHINGTON III | ANGEL

PIETRO MAXIMOFF | QUICKSILVER

MILES MORALES | SPIDER MAN/PROWLER

MIGUEO O' HARA | SPIDER MAN 2099

GWEN STACY | SPIDER WOMAN/ SPIDER GWEN/ GWEN POOL

HOBIE BROWN | SPIDER PUNK

PETER B. PARKER | SPIDER MAN

SPIDER MAN NOIR

WANDA MAXIMOFF | SCARLET WITCH

CAROL DANVERS | CAPTAIN MARVEL

JANE FOSTER | THOR

PEPPERS POTTS | RESCUE

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

ORORO MUNROE | STORM

My Pearl (Yandere! Ororo Munroe x Clone! Reader. Platonic Fic)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

JEAN GREY | PHOENIX

Mournig Sun (Yandere! Jean Grey x teen! Telepathic! Reader. Platonic Fic)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

ANNA MARIE | ROGUE

All I Wanted (Yandere! Anna Marie x Inmune! Reader)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

KITTY PRYDE | SHADOWCAT

LAURA KINNEY | X-23

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

PETER QUILL | STAR LORD

Astra Nova (yandere! Peter Quill x Alien! Reader. Tw.Slight Smut)

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

GAMORA | Deadliest Woman in the Galaxy

NEBULA

MANTIS

DAISY JOHNSON | QUAKE

MEDUSA

YELENA BELOVA | BLACK WIDOW

JESSICA JONES

MICHELLE JONES | MJ

SHURI

AMERICA CHAVEZ

LOKI | GOD OF MISCHIEF

THANOS | THE MAD TITAN

APOCALYPSE | THE FIRST MUTANT

DOCTOR OCTOPUS | OTTO OCTAVIUS

MYSTERIO | QUINTON BECK

MYSTIQUE | RAVEN DARKHOLME

SABER-TOOTH | VICTOR CREED

And more..!

INVINCIBLE. . . !

⊹ ・・───・・✦・・───・・⊹

MARK GRAYSON | INVINCIBLE

OMNI-MAN | NOLAN GRAYSON

REX SPLODE | REX SLOAN

ROBOT | RUDOLPH CONNERS

ATOM EVE | SAMANTHA EVE WILKINS

DUPLI-KATE | KATE CHA

THE IMMORTAL | IMMORTAL

ANISSA

THRAGG

And More..!

⊹ ・・───・・♧・・───・・⊹

You can add more characters and hero comics/series/movies by asking in the comments and/or by placing orders.

Send me a private message preferably to ask me for things, although you can also do it in the comments.

Take a bath!

[blackynsupremacy]

EVERY MUSICIAN’S

FAN

pairing: nicholas a. chavez x black!fem!reader

summary: nicholas was just supposed to be a replacement for your lead guitarist, but now it seems he wants to be more than that.

contains: 80s au, songfic, angst, smut, reader is a famous rock/popstar, 18+ content (mdni), infidelity (reader does), drug/alcohol/tobacco use, implication of a toxic relationship/affair, greed, manipulation, swearing, praise kink, riding, missionary, choking, squirting, cream pie, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (m/f receiving)

a/n: ever since i saw that picture of nick, i had this in my head. plus, ya’ll know how much i love me some mj. reblogs are appreciated!

taglist: @sabrinasopposite @greengoblinswifey @supaprettyg @hoffmansgirl @titsout4nicholas @jkr820 @simply-lovley44 @hnch33rios @hopefully-saturn @xoxoglittergossip @austeenbootler @niteskysx @thabiddie23 @sheydnni @venic-bxtch @miguelspvssy

“i fucking mean it, nicholas! this is the last goddamn time.”

that’s what you said the last time as you were gathering your scattered clothes that were sprawled all over the floor. as you concealed every part of your fucked out body, nicholas, who was only clad in a chained cross necklace, casually laid back between the sheets of the lust-filled bed of the hastily rented motel room with a hand behind his head and the other inhaling a cigarette between his lips. he huffed out a cloud of smoke with a satisfied expression playing on his devilishly handsome face,

“ooh, someone’s mad. you’re back to calling me nicholas. when’re you gonna get tired of saying the same shit, doll?” he rhetorically questioned with a glint of mischief.

your gaze darkened as your lips formed in a tight line. he was absolutely right, but here you were, with your head so damn stuck in the clouds still believing you had control over this mess of a situation.

“that’s your name, ain’t it?— and don’t act so smug, asshole. i got somebody and as soon as that curtain goes down at the last stop, you can get the hell out my band and like ray said, hit the fucking road! just let me be.” as you don your undergarments and reach for your shirt, you spoke to him with so much venom laced in your voice. the same voice that helped you to get discovered, achieve your dreams, and perform for your adoring fans around the world. speaking of fans, it enchanted one in particular that happened to enchant you back—in the worst way possible. nicholas’ sinister, melodious laughter echoed in the tense silence before he took another drag from his cigarette and puffed out more air.

“hey—you do whatever you want, baby. you’d let me just be a roadie if it means i get to fuck your brains out.”

“bullshit, nicholas! you’re lower than a fucking groupie. plus, i’ve seen you around other women and i know you’re every move, so you sure as hell won’t trap me…again!”

you couldn’t believe that you fell right into his trap of seduction again. you already had a man, but with the weight of making sure your first worldwide tour was a success and his absence due to a family emergency, the heavy weight you were feeling was added when he waltzed into your world. you were a young star on the rise as a new era was looming in. being lumped in with popular, black rockstars such as michael, janet, jimi, and prince was a massive deal, especially if your music spreads globally. that’s what you loved about what you were doing, your music was your music and people loved it despite your race and sex. it brought them together. you were only twenty-three and after two albums, your latest one was in the high heavens of the charts and even granted you three grammys that sat proudly on your shelf. now, it was time for the next step in your career: a world tour.

it all started three days before the tour began when your lead guitarist, randy, had to recover in the hospital after a near-fatal motorcycle accident. you were glad that he was going to pull through, but now you were in a jam. randy confirmed that he was going to send someone who he knew, trusted, and can shred just as good as him. that’s how you met nicholas chavez when your manager introduced him during a sound check. he only had two years on you, but it was refreshing to have someone in the band within the same age range as you. although you weren’t single, you had to admit that nicholas was fine as a motherfucker. nicholas stood tall in the six foot range with a lightly stubbled chiseled face, piercing brown eyes, and tousled brown hair. not to mention his burly biceps that were shown off in his black, lust for life wife beater topped with a gold cross chain.

he had the look, but could he shred to your music? when you inquired, he gushed about how big of a fan he was of your talent and records. you felt the heat of embarrassment rise on your face as he didn’t forget to comment how you looked more beautiful in person than you did on posters, interviews, and music videos. nicholas really was a fan. you got everyone in position on stage and as soon as he plugged his cherry red guitar within the amp, you attentively observed as nicholas effortlessly glided across the fretted strings. his skilled fingers moved like clockwork while playing some of the introductory notes of the first song in your set list. you cued in the rest of the band before you opened your mouth to serenade the empty stadium with the first verse. out of the corner of your eye, you could see nicholas’ awestruck gaze. his fingers never stopped moving on the guitar. during this routine, you’d step towards randy and smoothly orbit around him as his chords strummed in harmony with your vocals. when you did so around nicholas, his eyes never pulled away from your figure as he saw you in your element as if you were a goddess—his shining star. he was a shoe in.

“thank you, l.a.! i love you!”

you bade a farewell to the roaring crowd of fans into the microphone before you take a bow and exit the stage with the band following suit. there were a couple dressing rooms in the back, but there was a common area where you and your crew went to congratulate each other in merriment for such a wonderful kick-off to the tour. there was some champagne toasts raised for your accomplishment and for randy’s recovery.

“yo! let’s not forget the newbie for stepping in and absolutely killing that shit tonight. i appreciate it, nick—” you cheered then took a pause, placing your fingers on your lips to hush yourself. you weren’t sure if he was comfortable being addressed as such. “shit, my bad! i know we just met, but you don’t mind if i call you nick, do you?” you questioned as you flashed an amicable grin. nicholas reciprocated with his own grin that you found to be—beguiling of sorts. with the thought of your own relationship, you brushed it off immediately, taking a sip of the alcohol.

“it’s no sweat. you’re a shining star, so i’d be honored if you do.” he responded with a wink which caused your already drunk bandmates to hoop and holler as they nudged nicholas and egged him on. you calmed them down and confirmed the fact of your relationship. nicholas still didn’t seem dejected,

“well, he’s the luckiest guy if he gets to be with you.”

you bashfully wave him off before taking one last gulp and standing,

“aw, thank you, nick, but there’s no need to flatter me. you’re just saying that!”

oh, how wrong you were. little did you know, nicholas meant every word. throughout this tour, he was determined to make his wildest fantasies of making you his star come true, whether you had a man or not. three weeks of the tour progressed and you were more pumped than ever with each stop. your confidence was skyrocketing in your musical abilities and stage presence, nicholas always made sure to let you know that while you guys would have a drink and a smoke together in your dressing room after the show. you didn’t immediately jump into the limo like your other bandmates afterwards to go off to a party for some drinks, narcotics, and groupies. as a rising star, privacy was a gift. you’d want to take a few moments to chill, relish the moment, and reflect on your performance. you would use the payphone to call your boyfriend to converse about each concert during the first week, but some calls were received and others weren’t picked up. the worry bubbled in your stomach with what could be keeping him so preoccupied. eventually, you didn’t leave a message or just tried to call once a week. you were surprised that nicholas didn’t follow suit with the rest of the crew which resulted in you inviting him to recuperate with you, so that he wouldn’t feel left out. at first, it was just him praising you for your hard work and skill and you guys exchanging basic information about your early lives. then before you know it, the undeniable chemistry was simmering between you—on and off the stage.

things came to a head when you and nicholas were sitting on the black, velvet sofa of your dressing room. he was fooling around, strumming and improvising riffs on his guitar while you watched and smoked a cigarette. you were thoroughly impressed with his ability, it was as if a guitar fell into his hands at birth and he just went with it. you scooted closer, observing which finger stayed on which fret or strummed on which string.

“nick, you’re a talent with those riffs, man. it’s like fucking magic the way you handle those fingerings.” you mused and smashed the cigarette butt in the ashtray on the table as he halted his movements.

“hah, thanks! means a lot from coming from my biggest inspiration. it’s not everyday you get to meet your idols—let alone, get a compliment from em’.” with one last strum, he sat the guitar securely within the case and turned towards you with a lopsided grin on his face. there was that same charming expression that you feel that—enticement, maybe even desire towards him and he never was discreet about how he felt towards you either. no, you really shouldn’t be feeling that way. he’s basically a co-worker! how would that look on the tabloids if you ever thought about crossing that line? with a kind expression, you humbly wave him off as you’ve done before,

“nick, seriously, you’re too kind. you don’t always have to flatter me. y’know the guys have been giving us a hard time about how you have this big crush on me. that’s hilarious, right?” you nervously chuckle and averted your gaze down to your hands before they shift to his. they looked so firm, so powerful. you didn’t miss the veins that were protruding from the tanned skin of his hands. there was now a silence lingering, an unspoken tension. nicholas had to make his move.

“you know that i mean those things i say, right?”

your eyes jerked themselves on his to make sure you were hearing him correctly. you prayed he was just joking, but judging from this stare down, you could tell that he was not playing around.

“nick, i—” you stammer, but he catches it in time.

“i don’t say those things because i have to—i say ‘em because i want to and what if the guys were maybe onto somethin’?”

“onto what?” you ask, anticipating his answer.

“my ‘crush’ on you. sweetheart, i’d be a goddamn liar if i were to deny what they said. i mean—look at you, you’re talented and you have the voice of an angel. you’re real. you actually get people through your music, so you’re not like these other fucking posers.” nicholas brings his body in closer to yours, making you both mere centimeters in distance. “by the way, you’re so fucking beautiful. it’s not even real. your skin, your hair, your body. fuck, it just makes me insane that i’m not yours.” he proclaimed, his arm sliding around behind the sofa, his fingertips sensually grazing the brown skin of your shoulder as he continues to sing his praises to you, “every time you walk around me during that one song, i get so hard—heh, it’s pathetic because you don’t even fucking touch me.” he chuckles, his warm breath tickling your face as you instinctively clench your thighs to douse the pulsating throbbing within your core. nicholas certainly didn’t miss that as he didn’t miss the opportunity to rest his free hand on your bare thigh. at his subtle touch, you were shamefully soaked. you had to get away, right now, but why weren’t you getting up? why didn’t you move away as nicholas ghosted his lips over yours? maybe it was your boyfriend’s absence and the long, lonely nights of sleeping solo in an executive suite fit for a star.

“nick, i know what you’re doing and—” you gulp under his lustful gaze that continued to draw you in. you still never moved from your spot. “i know how these rockstars get on these tours, but i’m not with that. i have someone.” you look towards the window, knowing that the payphone is just right outside. not that you’ve been keeping track, but you haven’t even called on the phone tonight to tell your man that you were doing okay. nicholas’ long fingers firmly, yet softly guide your chin, so that you were face to face to again.

“hey, hey. i get it, doll, but you can’t tell me that you don’t get—” with the lick of his lips, he glanced down to your still crossed legs, “lonely.”

his words were nothing, but the truth and you hated it. you could feel the heat of radiating off his body, the way his brown gaze stuck to you with admiration and desire like the true fan he claimed to be. you wanted to make a run for it, to push him away and remind yourself of your commitment, but the truth was that the loneliness had been creeping in and looming over you like this dark cloud that won’t move.

“look, nick. this isn’t right,” you urged. you attempted to deny him and yourself from falling into such a sinful, yet enticing endeavor, but even as the words left your lips, you felt the pull of his energy. it was so enigmatic. for a temporary replacement, he had the look and the charisma of a true star. you couldn’t deny that nicholas was indeed a fine specimen of a man. the females in the stands would go crazy whenever he had the chance of an improvised guitar solo. it was obvious they were digging the way he moved his fingers or how his vein ridden biceps would flex with every movement more than his music ability. now that it came down to it, you were one of them. you could see the way his toned chest rose and fell, the way his breath quickened as he leaned in just a fraction more. you didn’t miss how his eyes continuously shifted from yours to your lips.

“c’mon, is it really so wrong for you to want to feel something real?” nicholas asked, his voice tantalizingly low as each word was dripping with temptation. “you’re out here, living this incredible life with some insane fucking talent and beauty. don’t lie to me, babe, you want something more.” his hand traveled farther up on your thigh. you could see the smirk forming on his face once he felt the sensation of goosebumps rising on your bare, brown skin. you swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest as if it were going to literally explode. the palpable tension in the air made it difficult to think straight.

“i have someone, okay?” you repeated, but it felt weaker this time, as if you were trying to convince yourself more than him. how pathetic. nicholas chuckled softly, a sound that sent shivers down your spine.

“oh, yeah? i bet if you went out to that phone, he wouldn’t even pick up. you see, i’m always here for you, so how ‘bout you let go and use me—just for one night, hm?” he whispered close to your ear, his lips ghosting along your jawline. you wanted to feel the touch of his lips press onto your skin, but now you were stuck with a choice—or what little of a choice you had left. if leaving were an option, you would’ve gotten the hell out of dodge by now.

“i shouldn’t.” you murmured, but even as you spoke, you could feel yourself beginning to crumble. “c’mon, baby, just one night,” he urged, his voice a seductive whisper before his fingers easily slid up to the area of where your legs are crossed. “let me show you what you’ve been missing. i’m your biggest fan, so let me prove it to you. you deserve to feel good, to let go of all the pressure and just—be.” at that phrase, you sigh as the tense muscles in your legs suddenly turn to jelly, giving him all the access that he needed to slide his fingers within your leather skirt. his middle grazes over the lace material of your panties before he presses the tip of finger flat against the damp surface of your clothed pussy. nicholas could gloat at the fact that even when you said no, you were already putty in his hands, but he just couldn’t fathom the thought of him actually arousing his musical idol of all people—what luck he had tonight.

“just say the word, honey, and i’m all yours tonight. i won’t go any further until you do.” as he spoke, you felt the weight of your loneliness pressing down on you, the longing for connection that had been building up inside you. the thought of giving in, of letting him take you away from it all, was intoxicating—just like the scent of cigarettes mixed with his cologne now that he was closer than ever. god, you just wanted to feel desired, to be wanted in a way that only he seemed to understand. no one was around, so how could the paps possibly see what you were up to? shit, male stars do this all the time and never seem to get flack for it. they get to do whatever they want with their little groupies and they’re deemed as kings, but nicholas was just one man, so—you made your decision. with a shaky breath, you deliberately nodded and shrugged your shoulders. “hah, fuck it—just for tonight.” you said, your voice trembled with anticipation before you pointedly turned to look him straight into his eyes.

“but, we can’t let it go further than that.” you affirm.

nicholas’ brown eyes lit up with a mixture of triumph and desire, and in that moment, you knew you were stepping into a world of pleasure and possibly, regret. he’s got you where he wants you and frankly, you couldn’t really give a fuck for now.

“oh, trust me, baby. you won’t regret it,” with a tone of mischief, he promised and it didn’t take a second for him to finally crash his lips on yours to which you reciprocated without any more doubts once you place your hands on his jawline to bring him in closer as if you were a starved woman. as the kiss progressed, his cunning digits stealthily moved your panties to the side beneath you skirt, causing you to open your legs wider. the pads of middle and ring fingers glided along your slit before his thumb came in to caress pressured light circles around your clit . you whimpered out into nicholas’ mouth, giving his tongue the opportunity to intrude into your mouth like a smooth criminal, you instantly went along with it as your desire for his touch began to increase. a whine left your lips when his descended to lay an attack on your neck. as he did so, you jolted a bit when he stuck his middle inside of you. your wet, cushiony walls stretched to give him the warm welcome he’s been craving for a while.

“fuck, you’re so tight. so fucking beautiful. i bet you don’t get like this for your boyfriend, eh?” he darkly chuckled, deliberately moving in and out your pussy.

“ah, nick, please.” you’re practically begging for him to add one or two more just to get that much needed release that’s been bottled up. as if he were reading your mind, he slipped in another finger and gained his speed. you moan out his name as your hips instinctively buck for his fingers meet in the middle with that special spot. he smirks at the beautiful music of squelching as you clench tighter around him.

“shit, baby, you hear that? god, you’re soaked.” he teasingly mused while making a scissoring motion, you could hear the volume of your arousal getting louder as his fingers easily move faster. his thumb was back to rapidly rubbing and pressing onto your clit like it was a button on an arcade game. you were just about to cum when he pulled his fingers away, leaving you whining at the emptiness.

“nick, why’d you st—” your words were cut short when he placed his fingers atop of your lips. they were glistening as they were coated in your juices.

“here—wanna taste?” nicholas asked, urging you to give him access to your mouth. a satisfied grin rose on his lips when you answered by sucking off both fingers at the same time. he bit his lip and attentively watched. when you hummed at the taste, he could feel the blood rapidly flowing to his rising cock as you didn’t dare to break the lustful eye contact between you.

“fuck.” nicholas exhaled, instantly taking his fingers from his mouth and initiating another fervent kiss to your lips. he needed to taste and feel you—all of you, so with one of his strong arms wrapped around your body, he swiftly laid you on your back against the plush, black velvet cushions of the sofa. he positions his large body right in between your legs and ruts his clothed arousal against your own as you both take a moment to get lost in each other’s lips before he goes down from your neck to your chest. your hands find their way within his messy, brown hair while he suckles on the melanated skin of your cleavage. his hands then slide under your corset top, he’s so damn giddy that there’s no bra underneath. he palms his firm hands against your soft breasts that he was dying to see for the first time. he peered at you when his hands gripped the hem as if to ask if he can proceed. once you silently give your approval, he pulls the top over head to expose your bare upper half. his hands roamed your body with a hunger that made your skin tingle with goosebumps, his fingers trailing down your sides, exploring every curve. with hooded lids and his mouth slightly agape, he just stared in awe at how this moment could never compare to the numerous sensual fantasies he’s had of you in the past.

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his hands now pinning your hips deeper within the sofa as he continued to deliberately grind his own into you.

“fuck, i can’t say it enough. you fucking see what you do to me?”

“ah, fuck, nick…” you whimpered, the sound escaping your lips as you bucked your hips up to his. your pussy was practically aching with how much you needed him, you were savoring this moment, but not too much as you hurriedly sat up to pull his tank over his head only to reveal how much of an absolute unit nicholas was. you knew he was fit, but it was like he was straight from the cover off the latest issue from playgirl magazine. he reveled at how your hands slowly roam from his chest down to his firmly toned abdomen. you basically clench around nothing when the ridge of each hard, bulging muscle are within your hands. they travel to his navel, the dark tresses of his happy trail tickled against your fingers. that’s when you finally see the hardened tent of arousal locked within his jeans, you attempt to touch it, but he softly takes ahold of your wrist before you could so. nicholas teasingly clicks his tongue,

“tsk, tsk, tsk. you’re so damn greedy. how ‘bout you do that after i get a taste?” he quips, placing a gentle kiss to your palm before he leans over you to slide your leather skirt down your legs. your drenched black, lace panties follow after, showcasing a clear string of your sweet nectar as they finally depart from your body. you observe as nicholas readies himself in the position between your legs, opening them wider, so that he can be a perfect fit. he marvels at the sight of your wet core before he leaves a trail of wet kisses along each of your inner thighs, pleasuring, yet teasing you as he makes his journey closer to the center. you shudder when his tongue finally makes contact by deliberately licking a long stripe up the slit before he gets to his dirty work. he was devouring you as if your pussy was a treasure he’d been searching for. you vocalize groans of ecstasy while caressing his hair as his lips enclose around your clit, sucking the sensitive nub like a piece of hard candy.

“s-shit—nick. that feels s’good.” you praise, throwing your head back, your fingers dig in the jungle of his head to pull him in as close as possible. nicholas was giving you all of what he’s got and you both knew you couldn’t deny it. he could cum right now as he witnessed you writhe under his touch, but he was patient enough. the combination of him humming in satisfaction against your skin, the bridge of his nose bumping into your clit, and his stubble tickling at your folds could drive you over the edge. you slowly rolled your hips into his face, he starts to become relentless once his tongue is deep with your walls and his thumb plays with your puffy clit to stimulate you further.

“mmm, nick, baby—uh, i’m—” you struggle to communicate as you squirm, the hot ball of pleasure builds from inside of you.

“shh, shh, i know. let it all go. c’mon, beautiful, do it for your biggest fan. i want you give it to me.”

at his words, you were already undone. you clench around his tongue and do what he commands by releasing a literal burst of your arousal onto his face, chin, and even the couch. he laps every single drop as you ride out your first of many highs. you were spent, but not so much when your hands guide his face to yours. you steal a second taste of yourself on his tywhen you crash your lips onto his in hunger before you finally take initiative,

“nick.” you softly, yet firmly call out, “take it all off. sit up nice and pretty f’me.” he doesn’t waste time to sit himself upright on the couch. being the good and loyal fan that he is, you stand between his spread thighs and reward him with sloppy kisses to his lips, bringing them down further until you’re where he’d want you the most. your hands don’t wait to unfasten and unzip the ripped jeans he has on. after his assistance of discarding the clothing to a random part of the room, you kneel to be face to face with the large tent within his plaid boxers. you smirk and return the same teasing energy he gave you, sliding your hands up his knees and down his massive thighs before you firmly palm his arousal. god, he was definitely hard and he was definitely huge, and the full thing hasn’t even sprung out yet. he lets out a guttural sigh in pleasure as you roll his erection within your hand. being ready than you’ll ever be, you slide the boxers down his legs and off his feet to break him free before you reach out to stroke his impressive ego. it was so nice, tall, and stiff. nicholas seemed like the type to keep it up for a while and the best part: it was all for you. he lets out a string of profanity when your tongue leaves a trail along the underside of the shaft. you both can’t take the teasing anymore as your hands firmly place themselves on each thigh, your tongue swirls around his leaking tip as if you were trying to keep melting ice cream from falling off a cone. you take him into your mouth, hallowing your cheeks to move your head up and down the entire length.

“ah, just like that. fuck, i knew you were talented, but this is fucking ridiculous—shit! keep going, doll. fuck, i love your mouth.” his praises motivate you to take half of him within your mouth and the other half to stroke his cock with your palm simultaneously. you hum what happened to be the tune of his favorite song of yours against his skin and he instinctively bucked his hips to bring himself further down your throat. oh, you fucking minx. he knew you wanted to make him feel good as well, but while he appreciated the thought, he only had one mission: you.

“s-stop—can’t fucking take it. m’not gonna cum like this.” he hisses, placing a palm on your neck immediately stopping your movements.

“get the fuck on top of me, right now.”

it was like clockwork the way he effortlessly picked you up from your spot on the floor, placing your knees on each side of his legs, so that your entrance was centimeters from the tip. nicholas strokes himself and gingerly runs the tip along the slit, his hands grip onto your hips to guide them down, filling you up inch by inch until he was right at home. you groaned at the girth that rested inside of you as he leans back on the sofa with his hands behind his head.

“shit, you feel amazing—go ahead, angel, use me. i’m all you need tonight, i’ll be your freak, your lover. for you, i’ll be your any-fucking-thing.” nicholas hyped, jolting his hips to give you a fresh start for you to move on your own and boy, did it feel exhilarating. you finally got your rhythm as you repeatedly moved up and down on his cock, your slick making it easy for him to slide in and out without a problem. with one hand placed on his chest and the other around where his chain rested on his neck, this gave you the leverage you needed to lose full control.

“ah, fuck. nick, baby, you feel so damn good.” your hips don’t stop when his tip lightly touches that precious spot, but you need more, “hah, p-please touch me.” nicholas’ warm gaze instantly darkened at your command, his hands grip right under the plush cheeks of your ass as his own hips jolt up to meet yours. you and nicholas simultaneously groan in pleasure when his tip rapidly bumps against your cervix.

“fuck, look at you. you like using me as your little plaything? y’know i’d do anything for my shining star.” he teased, quickly gaining speed in his hips. you were about to be close as that ball of heat grew within you, but you were starting to tire out. flustered, you lightly tapped him on his burly bicep thrice.

“n-nick! i-i can’t—” you stammer with a desperate look in your eyes, he holds you firmly by the small of your back and flips you over before placing your legs over his shoulders to drill his hips right into yours as if he never lost his rhythm. nicholas was simply mesmerized at the sight before him. you’re crying his name out every second with your eyes shut tight preparing yourself for another orgasm as your walls clench tighter around him. to nicholas, this was heaven, he didn’t give a fuck if he was fucking the shit out of someone else’s chick.

“look at me, baby.” he softly orders, placing one hand on your neck to prompt you into opening your eyes, you do so. “you getting close?” he questions further to which you barely reply, “m-mhm! m’gonna cum.” the next thing you know is that he leans down to slowly move his lips with yours, his tongue gaining entrance as his free hand wedges between you to spread you a little wider and caress pressured circles on your clit with his thumb again to bring you closer combined with his own movements that were starting to get sporadic. you pulled your lips from his momentarily

“nick, come with me. it’s okay.” you say one last time not keeping your eyes off of each other. “s-shit, you’re amazing.” he praises as your body trembles beneath him, his thrusts get sloppier as he moves on your nub faster before you both wail out, becoming completely undone. you find yourself squirting on his cock and navel while he completely pours himself deep inside of you, coating your walls in the thick whiteness of his arousal that now drips from you after he pulls out. thank god you were on the pill, you were already in deep trouble as it is. after you both gathered yourselves together and go your separate ways to prepare for the next stop, the guilt inside you was forming at the realization that— you cheated.

“this can’t happen again, nick.” you firmly said.

“you’re the boss.” he responded nonchalantly.

that’s when you swore to keep it nothing, but professional with nicholas from that day forward. if by professional, you mean sneaking him into your suite while the band was partying or engaging in a quickie within your dressing room. it was futile, the more you tried to resist him, the more persistent he got which would lead to you threatening to kick him out or reiterating that you had a boyfriend, but somehow, it always ends up with him coaxing you into filling that void within your bed—and your heart.