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toxicanonymity · 8 months ago

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The Spread

PAIR: Thomas Hewitt x f!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3.5k | SERIES | MAIN MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: You hide and don't get slaughtered. Tommy secretly keeps you. He's kinda sweet if you're good.

WARNINGS: I8+ Canon-typical violence (implied) & setting, captivity, dark caretaking, manhandling, sleeper hold, oral f receiving, noncon unsafe piv, finger gagging, dark fluff, tommy has a praise kink, stockholm syndrome vibes. NO human skin mask: leather partial mask shown in photo. He is feral and naive due to his family. No use of Y/N. Divider by gasolinerainbowpuddles.

SIZE KINK - Reader is much smaller than Leatherface, can be carried and maneuvered. He is 6’5”, thicc and STRONG.

You barely escaped the so-called law man, and your friends weren’t so lucky. They got chased right into the lair of a chainsaw-wielding giant.

“C’mon, Tommy,” the Sheriff encouraged the giant, “Just like the slaughterhouse.”

Heavy chains thrashed, and one of your friends groaned.

“Attaboy,” the Sheriff praised.

While they were distracted, you ducked into a nearby woodshed. You didn't dare go far – you had encountered too many hazards on the property to trust your footing, and couldn't risk calling attention. Instead, you sat there in the shed, paralyzed, listening to your friends get butchered. One by one, their squeals turned animalistic until a wet thwack or rev of a motor cut them off.

Finally, there were no more screams.

Huddled in a corner of the woodshed, you tried to keep your wits about you. The shed was about the size of a small dorm room. There were stacks of wood all around–some freshly cut, some rotted–and hay covered the floor.

You were in a tank top and Daisy dukes with cowboy boots that made you feel like an idiot. You had sap on your knees from crawling over the wood. Taking deep breaths did nothing but fill your nose with cedar - it was only a matter of time before you’d meet your fate. You picked splinters out of your hands as you replayed the chase in your mind. You began to feel sure “Tommy” had seen you run into the shed. If that was the case, you didn't know why he let you go. You could only guess he already had his hands full.

“Think we got’em all, son?” The Sheriff asked.

Tommy grunted.

“That’s my boy,” the Sheriff concluded.

The door frame would’ve been tall enough for most men, but Tommy had to duck on his way in. He carried an ax. Each step he took shook the entire structure. His breathing was loud, his mouth hanging open below the leather that covered his nose. The partial mask didn't cover his mouth. It was fastened with two straps behind his head nestled in thick, chestnut hair that came down around his shoulders.

Dusk was approaching. Not long after the Sheriff left, heavy footsteps crunched louder and louder toward the woodshed. Your heart pounded harder with each step.

The rickety door busted open with a plume of dust. Tommy’s silhouette consumed almost all the daylight that remained.

He approached you cautiously and paused when he was an arm’s length away. You whimpered, knees held to your chest. He sniffed around like an animal. Then he brushed a stray section of hair out of his eyes, and you saw a glint of uncertainty in his gaze. You tried to compose yourself, wondering if your fear could trigger him.

He knelt down to get a better look at you. He reached for you, and you jumped. He grumbled and held up a massive finger less than an inch from your mouth, telling you to be quiet.

Something possessed you to reach for his hand. He let you move it.

You put his palm on your cheek and watched his chest heave in confusion.

He tilted his head and stayed crouched there for a moment, staring at you with his brown eyes softening above the leather.

“Attaboy,” you whispered, repurposing the Sheriff’s words.

Tommy huffed, then abruptly stood. He left the shed, ax slung over his shoulder. He ducked again on his way out.

He didn't return for a while. You finally dared to open the door just enough to look out, but not for long, startled by an older woman’s voice calling, “Tommy!!! Time for supper.” You shrunk back into your corner, afraid you had been spotted.

You sat there frozen, afraid to run.

Sometime later, you heard a squeaky wheel approach the shed. The door opened more quietly than it had the first time. The hulking silhouette was backlit by a buzzing floodlight in the yard. The man seemed to be more careful and quiet this time. He had brought a few blankets. One of them was tattered, pale yellow bordering what used to be white, and it had Care Bears on it. He put the blanket over your body, coming all the way up to your neck, and patted your head. Then he took a bundle of newspaper out from under his arm and handed it to you like an offering. It smelled like barbecue.

As he turned to leave, you whispered, “Tommy.”

He dropped his head and looked back.

“Thank you,” you said.

Looking at the wall, Tommy offered a short nod before leaving. Then he locked the door from the outside.

After he left, you opened the newspaper. It was too dark to see, but the contents felt like a charred bone with bits of flesh hanging to it. You weren't hungry anyway.

You wrapped yourself tight in the blanket, and to your discomfort, your heart fluttered at the man’s softness with you. You replayed the day’s harrowing events in your mind’s eye and saw him differently than you had at first. Maybe he was nothing but an attack dog. You began to doubt he would've hurt your friends at all if not for the older, more wicked man in uniform.

Maybe Tommy was as much of a prisoner as you were. You wondered if he could talk. You felt sure he could listen.

After sunrise, you awoke to some commotion and heard a vehicle drive away. After a period of silence, you tried to open the door to the shed, but it was securely locked.

Soon, Tommy came back and unlocked it. He moved swiftly toward you with purpose in each heavy step, crouching slightly. The mass of his body strained his shirt. You'd never seen forearms like his. He could surely snap you like a twig, but something told you he wouldn't. Still, your heart raced when he lunged toward you. He reached over a wood pile and used both massive hands to force you onto your feet. He wrapped you in the blanket, then put you over his shoulder like a potato sack.

He put you into his wheelbarrow, then nestled some firewood around you. He looked around furtively as he did it. Then he covered you with another blanket and wheeled you across the bumpy ground, onto a smoother surface. He rolled a garage door down behind you and left you covered in the wheelbarrow as he rummaged around the garage.

You peeked out from the blanket and saw him placing shackles on a table. Your heart raced. You glanced behind you. The garage door was still lifted by a small margin. Maybe big enough to fit through.

You watched in terror as he brought out a mallet. Finally, your body unfroze.

You lowered yourself out of the wheelbarrow as carefully and quietly as you could and crawled toward the narrow opening. As you began to wriggle under it, your ass hit the door, making a noise far too loud to go unnoticed.

Within a split second, his massive hands were firm around your ankles, pulling you toward him, dragging you roughly across the concrete.

He manhandled you like a doll. He forced you onto your back and shook you, then wrapped a massive hand around your neck. Your life flashed before your eyes, and you kicked him. He grunted and grabbed you roughly by the shirt, then sat back on his knees. He held you with your back against his enormous thigh. Your Daisy dukes did nothing to protect your ass from the cold concrete. You thrashed, and he put the crook of his elbow around your neck, then everything faded.

When you woke up, you were chained to the table, with cold, metal shackles on your wrists and one ankle. You were bottomless, and the air was cool between your legs. Your feet were bare. All you had left was your tank top, which you wore without a bra.

You didn't dare move. A foul dust in the air made you sneeze, then Tommy came into view. He was wearing a butcher’s apron, and the sleeves of his dingy, button-up shirt were rolled up to expose those big, hairy forearms. He held the mallet. His eyes were industrious.

“Please don't hurt me,” you begged.

He laid a heavy hand on your shin, and you flinched. He gently placed your free ankle in a shackle, then nailed it shut.

“Please,” you begged.

He laid a hand on your thigh and looked you in the eyes.

“What are you going to do to me?” You asked.

He huffed and put the mallet away.

You were relieved until he returned with a meat cleaver. You tensed and squirmed. He laid a hand on your stomach and his searing eyes told you to stay still. He slid the cleaver under your tank top, and you held your breath and looked at the ceiling. Your nipples hardened at the feeling of his knuckles between your breasts.

He violently sliced upward through the fabric, turning your wifebeater into a vest which burst open, freeing your breasts. He inhaled sharply at the sight and discarded the meat cleaver with a metallic clatter on a nearby shelf.

“Please,” you begged again, then he stuck his fingers in your mouth and peered in. His thick digits tasted like charcoal and salt. Three fingers were enough to stuff the orifice completely. When you stopped whining, he abandoned your mouth.

He cupped a breast, then cupped both of them. He hummed a curious “mm,” Then dragged his thumb down your sternum before stepping away to survey your body.

You felt like a cadaver sliced open for examination. As he slowly stalked around the table, it dawned on you that's what he was doing. He was studying you.

He stopped at a long side of the table – your left side. He brought his face–his leather mask–to your skin, just below your ribs. His hair fell onto your body, and the light brush of it tickled. He paused to loosen the strap at the back of his head. Then he dipped his face to your abdomen again. He turned his head and dragged his cheek, and the leather, over your bare stomach, to your breast. You could hear him desperately sniffing and wondered why he didn't take that thing off.

Lips, hair, and smooth leather dragged across your skin as he wiped his face along your chest. Then his face made its way into your armpit, where a dart of his tongue made you flinch and shiver. His tongue darted out again. He sucked the delicate skin slightly into his mouth before releasing it with a soft grunt.

He paused and pulled away. He pivoted to stand behind your head, then brought his hands to your breasts. Helowered his mouth to your neck and licked you. His hair fell on your nose and smelled like smoke and metal.

He seemed to savor the taste of your skin. He licked longer, harder, the strong slippery muscle of his tongue nudging your jugular. You felt a rush of arousal and shame. He tasted the other side of your neck and hummed in satisfaction. The throbbing between your legs made you wince.

He dragged his tongue down over your chest to lap at your breast. He flattened his tongue to lick your nipple, then began to suckle at it. One thing was clear - this was not for your enjoyment. He was entirely absorbed in what he was doing. He didn't even glance at your face. Whether it was for his pleasure or curiosity, you couldn't be sure. He moaned into your nipple and you knew you must have been gushing onto the table.

After a few seconds, he pulled away from your tit and began to sniff the air. He stalked around the table some more and paused at your shackled feet, staring up between your spread legs. He found the source. His hands dwarfed your thighs as he pushed them further apart. Then he dabbed a thick finger, only grazing your folds as he picked up just a taste of you from the table and brought it to his mouth.

“Mm,” he hummed quietly, staring between your legs. He licked his finger again and his eyes searched the air curiously. Then he grabbed your upper thighs and anchored his thumbs on your outer lips, spreading you open. His heavy gut rested on the table between your feet as he leaned forward. As he lowered his mouth to your cunt, you twitched and felt another rush of shame.

His breath was hot on your cunt, then he dipped his tongue, and you tensed.

He lapped at your entrance, and the physical pleasure made you exhale and relax, while your fear remained. He licked and sucked, and your moan echoed before you could try to cut it short. Your chest was hot with embarrassment, but if he heard the sound, he ignored it.

He fed on your juices like a starved animal. He sucked and slurped, and dug his lips and tongue in, searching for more. The squelching and gurgling sounds were obscene between your legs. He closed his eyes and dug his fingers into your hips as he feasted.

The leather mask nudged your clit and made your hips lift into his mouth. He brought a hand to your lower belly to hold you still. Then his tongue plunged into you. You whispered, “good boy,” and your whole body felt weak with shame.

He paused and glanced up, then repeated the action. It was true, some part of you welcomed this, as afraid as you were. In any case, the heat and pressure building in your gut would have to release at some point.

He fucked you with his tongue, nudging your clit with the smooth leather, and you had to remind yourself to breathe. You'd never been eaten so voraciously. He moaned into your cunt and the tension was too much to hold. You whimpered as you began to pulse and twitch. His tongue paused as you clenched around it. Then he continued. Your back arched as he sucked it all out of you, swallowing every drop he could find. As your climax waned, you took slow, deep breaths.

Finally, he slowed down. He looked flustered for a moment, then his hand disappeared from your thigh. He pulled his face away, and the leather mask was soaked and shiny. Then he took his apron off. When he stood to put the apron aside, the protrusion in his pants made your breath hitch and your asshole flutter.

Your cunt spasmed once around nothing, and your insides churned as though making room for a massive guest.

You couldn't peel your eyes away. He adjusted himself, then palmed the bulge. His shirt had come untucked. The bottom button wasn't fastened, and his midsection strained the other buttons as his whole torso heaved. He eyed the mess between your legs as he palmed himself.

He seemed to be considering the possibility of stuffing your cunt with whatever monstrosity hid in his pants. He could take anything he wanted, but he didn't look proud of it. This didn't feel like something he did every day.

You decided not to fight back. You told yourself it was for survival, but you also twitched at the thought of him wrecking you. You looked at his crotch, then down between your legs, still gushing at the sight of him barely contained by his pants. The way his whole body wanted to bust out of his clothes made you weak in the knees. He was so solid and strong. You looked again from his crotch to your own, as though your eyes were instructing where to put it in defiance of your better judgment.

He grumbled as he picked up a hammer and approached you, making your heart nearly stop.

He pried the nails out of the shackles, and you cursed yourself for the way your heart fell. Your disappointment was quickly replaced by relief. A man this size, with these capabilities – he could have done serious damage to your body.

“Thank you,” you whispered. You laid on the table patiently looking at the ceiling as he went down to your feet and unshackled your ankles.

Then he grabbed you by the thighs and yanked you toward the end of the table, making you yelp. Your naked crotch came to rest flush against the bulge in his pants, making you ache with arousal. Your thighs trembled in fear.

You looked down toward him and he forced your chin upward, making you look at the ceiling. You pinched your eyes shut. You were at war with your body’s desire. He might kill you. He might actually split you in two. The dying squeals of your friends echoed in your mind. But his hardness swelled against you, and oh, fuck.

His hips backed up and you twitched at the loss of his warm package against you.

With your eyes still pinched shut, you heard his clothes jostling, then he spread your lips apart while he notched his tip against you. It was too big. He held your thighs again and pulled you toward him with a forward thrust and a grunt.

Being impaled with his cock felt like being split open. The girth burned as it stretched you, and you whimpered as your body tried to accommodate him. He stayed inside, and he sighed. You'd never felt so stuffed. He leaned forward, and the contact with your clit provided some relief as your body spread itself more. But still, your heart raced at the prospect of him moving. You prayed he would be gentle.

When you didn't stop whimpering, he stuck his fat, smokey fingers in your mouth again. He placed his other hand on your chest to hold you still, with the crook of his thumb close to your throat. You gagged on his fingers and he removed them. He wiped your saliva onto your nipple before kneading your breast.

Thankfully, you were wet and getting wetter. He held you down and slammed into you. The fullness pushed your thoughts out of the way along with your guts. You kept your eyes shut as he speared into you again.

His breathing and grunting seemed to echo through the room with every snap of his hips. His unholy girth twitched against your walls. He grabbed onto your hips and brutally pounded you. He used you like a sleeve until his moans were drawn out and his breath became ragged. He pulled you back hard and leaned forward, the weight of him resting on your lower abdomen. Your cunt fluttered in anticipation of his climax, but he paused. Your hips lifted, seeking friction for your front.

He pulsed once, making your chest flutter with pleasure, but then he swiftly slid out. He left you twitching for more as he finished coming outside. His cum painted your folds and inner thigh, and he grumbled and turned around. You lowered your chin to look just in time for him to release onto the wheelbarrow and floor. Then he stood there with his broad back heaving as he looked around.

You closed your eyes again and opened them when you felt fabric on your inner thigh. He was wiping you off with the bottom of his shirt. His face and neck were blotched pink, and he had fixed his pants. He was looking at you, chest still heaving when his ears perked up at the distant sound of tires on gravel.

He quicky put your shorts back on and gathered you off the table, nestling you in the wheelbarrow once more. He swaddled you in the old blanket, now wet with his cum, and opened the garage before quickly wheeling you back to the shed.

He placed you in the corner where you had been, just in time for the truck to park. As he turned to leave the shed, you said “Tommy. Can you bring me some water?”

He hesitated then gave a short nod before locking the shed again behind him.

He came back later with a jar of water and a metal bucket. You were shivering in the corner when he came in. He set the bucket down next to you, then placed his hand on the crown of your head and gently moved his fingers as he looked around. Then he abruptly began to unbutton his shirt. He pulled you up from the corner to put the shirt on you. His chest was hairy and broad, and his entire torso was thick, just massive.

“Good Tommy,” you said as he finished putting the shirt on you.

He paused and left it unbuttoned. His eyes were big. He held you by the sides, looking you up and down in the oversized shirt and Daisy dukes. Then he put you back where you were and locked the shed behind him.

The shirt was filthy, cumstained, and reeked of sweat, but it didn’t smell as bad as it should've. It didn't make you sick like it should've. When he left, you wrapped it tight around yourself, then looked in the bucket. There were apples.

Thank you for reading and engaging! Love you guys 🖤 please consider commenting even if this is old. It helps to know what you liked.

If you want more, good news - I have more thots! Feel free to send yours, too.

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redflagshipwriter · 7 months ago

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batmom Cass progress post

(masterpost)

Far Too Young: Cassandra Wayne, Teen Mother Debutante?

Danny cringed away from the headline on the newspaper sitting on the coffee table. “I am so sorry,” he said miserably. Someone must have reported on that first day in the city. Why'd they sit on the story for so long? That was the only time he'd been in public with Cass. So far, he'd only left Wayne Manor with Damian and Alfred to volunteer at the animal shelter.

Cass blinked up at him, from her perch on the back of the sofa. “Don't be,” she said. “It's fine. They will always talk.” Her face twitched into condescension. “It means nothing.”

He wrung his hands because it really did look like something. She hadn't given him the article and he wasn't quite bold enough to request to read it. But it couldn't be nice. Even the headline was judgmental.

“It would probably be for the best if we made a statement.” Grandfather Bat said out of nowhere.

Danny startled and jumped straight up. The chair creaked unhappily when he landed back on it.

“Brucedad,” Cass complained.

He huffed and held his hands up. “Sorry, sweetheart. Didn't mean to startle anyone.”

Danny hunched a little more into his hoodie. Well. Tucker’s hoodie. It was way too big for Danny, especially after the weight he'd lost. But it was weirdly comforting. He fiddled with the sleeves.

“Cass, could we talk about it in my office?” Bruce said. His tone was calm and even. Danny sort of suspected it was for his benefit. “Danny, Damian is looking for you.”

“Oh, for real?” Danny let his heels drop off the chair, onto the carpet. “Yeah, okay. Where's he at?”

Danny found his 13 year old uncle out in the barn with his cow. Danny hopped the wooden gate to go inside and sneezed at the dust in the air from dried hay.

“Danny,” Damian acknowledged. He was brushing Batcow. “I hope that you are well this morning.”

Danny made that weird white person smile-grimace where only his lips moved. “Good morning,” he said, instead of either lying or being a bummer. “Are we going to the shelter today?”

Damian didn't pause. “Unfortunately, I have been told that it will not fit in Pennyworth’s schedule today,” he said primly. He dragged another long, precise stroke down Batcow’s fur, exactly lining up with his last stroke. Danny eyed his sure, confident motions. “Instead, I wondered if you would join me in a project in the barn. Have you any experience with wood working?”

“Nope.” Danny drifted a little closer. “Do you?”

“No.” Damian dropped to a crouch to take care of Batcow's hooves. “It is of no importance. We can overcome.”

“Hell yeah, Uncle D,” Danny agreed genially. Why not? He shoved his hands in his pockets. “What are we making?”

“Storage shelving, for materials intended for art therapy.” Damian made one final brisk movement and rose in a smooth motion. He hung up the tools and brushed his hands off. Danny followed Damian as he started to leave.

“Art therapy?” Danny echoed curiously. “That's neat. For ….you?” He ventured.

‘It’s for me,’ Danny thought wryly. ‘This 13 year old takes his responsibility as my Uncle seriously. He'll say it's for him, but want me there, and-’

“Of course not,” Damian scoffed. “It is for Jerry and Batcow. They have unresolved traumas.” He pulled the door shut behind them. “We will require lumber from the storage unit, as well as an assortment of power tools. I am disallowed from using them without the presence of someone who is taller than 5 feet, or older than 20.”

“That is awfully specific.” Danny eyed Damian suspiciously. “I'm not going to get in any trouble for this, right?” He followed even as Damian picked up the pace a little as they crossed the huge green lawn towards a shed.

“Tt.” Damian tapped in a code at lightning speed and then hefted open the door. “No. You will be fine.” He said flatly. He stalked into the dark space. Danny followed and sneezed at the dusty interior. “Can you lift 50 pounds?”

Danny sniggered. “Yeah, easily,” he said with confidence.

Damian hummed in the back of his throat. “Good. You shall be the beast of burden.”

That was such a wild thing to say that Danny blinked twice while processing it. Beast of burden?!? Who said that?

“... I'm not sure I like that,” Danny teased. “Have you heard that I'm the baby?” He gestured at himself. Weedy as he was, he was still noticeably larger than Damian.

“You should be proud,” Damian said in a dry tone. “to be such an accomplished baby. Here.” He pointed at a bundle of lumber. “I require this.”

Danny was a burdened beast back and forth between the shed and the barn for three trips to assemble everything that Damian thought they would need. The preteen oversaw it all with perfect aplomb, dark eyes glittering as his plan started to come together.

There was a learning curve.

“That's why they say to measure twice and cut once, huh,” Danny observed. He pursed his lips at the board that was only about half an inch too short for their purpose. They couldn't like, glue or nail on a slight extension, could they?

“We shall throw this in the woods so that no one discovers our failure.” Damian lifted one side of the poorly cut plank and dragged it to the back of the barn into an unused stall. It dragged a line through the loose straw cushioning the floor.

“He's so little,’ Danny thought hysterically. He could not laugh at Damian. He absolutely could not. The little guy took himself so seriously. Danny was actually shaking with the effort not to laugh or coo.

Damian seemed to have no idea. “For the moment I will store it out of sight here.” He let the plank fall to the ground from an inch or so and then shut the stall door. Danny watched with his head cocked to the side and a hand pressed over his lips to hide his grin.

“We have two more excess planks.” Damian went back to business.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #red mama bat

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st4rfckerz · 9 months ago

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Farmboy | Farmhand!Anakin Skywalker x Farmers!daughter

word count: 4.1k

warnings: MDNI 18+, oral (male receiving), face fucking (if you squint), unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, slow(ish) buildup, not proofread

summary: Anakin is your family's farmhand and after inviting him to dinner, you can't keep your hands to yourself

Your family owned a farm out West, not far from the outskirts of town. It was quiet, as farms often are. The land was hilly, rolling out as far as you could see. The sun was shining, and the blue sky was bright with few clouds in it. The sound of horses and the wind rustling through the trees was all you heard. The air was crisp, and there was a slight tang of wildflowers.

Anakin was one of the farmhands that your family had hired a few months ago, a man who was quiet but skilled. As one of their hired hands, he was responsible for helping with the maintenance of the farm's livestock and machinery. His primary role was to ensure everything ran smoothly, which meant keeping the animals fed and watered while fixing broken machinery when needed.

It was midday when you approached him in the garden shed with a worried expression on your face. "Ani, I need your help. The sheep pen collapsed, and I can't find any tools nearby." Panic was evident in your voice, hinting at the potential consequences of leaving the sheep unattended for too long. Anakin followed you back to the dimly lit barn and you found the sheep wandering around their stalls, bleeting softly.

"I see," he muttered looking at the pen, he glanced over where the sheep were grazing. "I hope nothing else broke." he says under his breath, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of damage. He walked forward, whistling for the sheep that were scattered, and they came to him. He began leading them towards their pen, some were very fussy about it and didn’t want to go, yet he remained calm and gentle.

"Don't worry, I'll fix it," Anakin assured you, stepping over the fence and rummaging through the debris left by the fallen wood.

"You need me to help with anything?" you stand near him awkwardly, not sure what to do.

“Nope. I got it under control,” He said calmly, continuing to lead the sheep. You admired his patience and his ability to stay so level headed. "You can just sit there and look pretty while I get this done." Anakin shoots you a slick smile that makes your insides turn a little.

"I won't be bothering you?" you ask as you sit down on a bale of hay.

"You won't be bothering me at all sweetheart," He says, his eyes traveled over your body and he smirked at you. "You can be my moral support." He leans against the aged wall of the barn. His stance was relaxed, very casual as he was being nonchalant, but with you he was a little different. Something about you made him like this.

Anakin couldn't help but notice how good you looked in their simple dress, its hemline brushing against your thighs, revealing just enough skin to drive him wild. The sunset cast a warm, golden light over your body, creating a delicate glowy outline around your figure. It was almost like the sun was wrapping itself around you.

"You know you could stay for supper if you'd like," you suggest, breaking the silence of the barn. "I'm sure my folks won't mind." He watched as you leaned back on the bale of hay, and he couldn't help but notice your dress riding up a little. It was a small thing to notice, but he saw it.

Your dress wasn't that short, by any means, but the way it rode up on your legs was enough to make Anakin notice you. His gaze drifted down to your legs, and back up to your face.

"Oh I don't know, I don't wanna intrude or anything-" You smiled and cut him off, stopping him in his tracks.

"Please Ani? Just this once?" You walked over to him, and with that sweet tone in your voice, you were playing him like a fiddle. It was clear that your invitation was genuine, you wanted him to stay so you could keep his company. He smiled at you and looked away from your eyes for a moment. When he looked back at you, he was slightly speechless. The words were caught in his throat, and he couldn't speak, he wasn't used to someone that could make him flustered.

"Well, alright I s'pose I could join you." Anakin smiles. "What's mama bear fixin' up tonight?"

he smirked at you, his expression was playful, but you could tell he was serious. You laughed lightly at the silly nickname he often uses for you mother.

“She’s making beef stew, with biscuits. All from scratch, too.” you explain. "And there's fresh apple pie for dessert." His smile showed he was interested, and he couldn't help but admire your beauty. You looked like a little doll, with sweet doe eyes that could disarm any man.

"Then I'll be there." His voice had a masculine yet flirty quality to it, and it sent shivers down your spine. It was like music to your ears.

"Good, I'll see you later farmboy." You tease, knocking his hip with your own as you walked past him. You felt his eyes devouring you whole, looking at your sweet face and the sway of your hips.

As he continues to fix the pen, he can't help but think about the upcoming dinner. He's never had dinner with you and your family before, so he wondered how it would go. He didn't know if he'd be welcome, but you said they wouldn't mind, and you're pretty much like a little princess in their eyes so it shouldn't go wrong at all.

The evening rolled around, you were sitting at the table waiting for him, ready for the dinner to begin. Your family was already seated around the table, discussing various things. They all seemed pretty jovial, and you could hear the occasional laughter, as well as bits of conversation.

You looked around and expected to see Anakin walking through the door at any second, yet he was a bit late which was out of character for him.

Just as you thought he might've bailed last minute, Anakin's voice draws your attention towards the door, where he was finally walking in. His expression had a hint of embarrassment, since he was later than he thought he'd be. He had a shy yet sheepish look on his face, as if he expected you or your family to reprimand him.

"Sorry," he said quietly, looking at you, "I'm a bit late."

"Ani! I was afraid you flaked out on us." you joke as you abruptly got up from your seat to greet him. When Anakin saw you get up and come closer to him, he was initially confused as to why. But then you envelope him in a tight hug, catching him completely off guard. He didn't know how to respond, as he was taken aback by your show of affection.

"No, I'd never do a thing like that." he responds.

He hugged you back, his hands squeezing you tightly as you felt his body pressing against yours. He was caught by surprise, and he didn't expect you to show any affection. His body stiffened up as you hugged him, as he remained still.

However, he felt a wave of warmth rush through him and it caused him to relax into the hug. He wrapped his arms around you, feeling a new feeling of closeness between you both.

"Come eat, there's plenty of food." You let go of the embrace, but you still keep your hands on him, dragging him to the seat right next to you. He didn't hesitate to follow you, nor did he show any opposition. You both sit down, with you being right next to Anakin. You pull yourself slightly close to him, close enough that he could feel it.

Anakin's eyes look up at your father, his expression showing a bit of anxiety. Your father smiles warmly at him, and welcomes him to the table. Anakin smiles back in response, looking down at the table a bit. Your father proceeds to sit down, as does the rest of your family. The dinner proceeds like normal, everyone engaging in conversation with one another.

"So Anakin, how's everything been?" your father asks, his aged, gravelly voice booming throughout the room.

"I've been quite fine sir, same old news." Anakin says, smiling a bit as he takes a bite from his biscuit.

"Anakin fixed the sheep pen today." The conversation shifts as you interject, causing Anakin's attention to look up. Your words get everyone's attention, as they all look at Anakin, who is sitting to the side.

"Oh, did he?" your father says, looking at him. Anakin's ears pick up, and he looks over towards you. Your father continues, "I'm sure the sheep are happy." He blushes slightly, nodding his head humbly as he looks at your dad.

Your mother pipes up with her own question, pointing the discussion in another direction.

"So Anakin, what do you do in your free time?"

Anakin answers, keeping his tone relaxed and level.

"Nothin' too special really," he says, taking a few moments to respond, "Just hang around, or fix things. Y'know how it is." He's cordial, polite, and has a soft attitude.

He treats you with respect, yet his attention keeps flicking back towards you again and again, as if he was drawn to your charms. You felt as if you were a magnet to him, as he always looked over at you after he said anything.

As you lean forward to grab the salt, your fingers brush against Anakin's thigh under the table, a subtle gesture that sends a thrill through both of you. He raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on his lips. He knows exactly what you're doing. You quickly return to your seat, trying to hide your flushed cheeks under the low light.

"The food is really good mom." you smile sweetly at her. While you speak, your fingers graze along Anakin's growing bulge under the table, a subtle hint of your growing attraction.

Anakin's eyes meet yours for a brief moment, he swallows hard, trying to maintain his composure as he continues the conversation. The tension between you two is palpable, yet unnoticed by the rest of the family.

Dinner comes to an end, and your mother presents a homemade apple pie for dessert. The family cheers in appreciation, and you can't help but smile at the delicious aroma wafting through the room. The scent of apple pie creates a cozy atmosphere that wraps around you like a warm blanket. Anakin compliments your mother on the meal, his eyes never straying far from yours.

As everyone digs into the apple pie, you feel Anakin's hand gently slide in between your thighs under the table. You try your hardest to suppress the smile creeping onto your face, the connection between you two growing stronger with each passing moment. The dessert is sweet, but it's nothing compared to the warmth you feel inside.

When you finish eating your piece of pie, you stand up and gather your plate and utensils, turning to head towards the kitchen sink. Anakin follows closely behind. You work side by side, the clinking of dishes echoing through the kitchen.

Anakin's hands are large and rough from farm work, but they move gracefully as he washes the dishes. He looks at you, his expression calm but also full of appreciation.

"It was nice having dinner with your family." he tells you, "thanks for inviting me over."

You give him a smile and use a nearby towel to wipe your hands. "It was no problem, they enjoyed your company." He smiles back, his jaw firm but his eyes showing that he was genuinely pleased.

Just as your family enters the kitchen with their now empty plates, you lean in close to Anakin, your voice barely above a whisper. "Meet me in the barn in five minutes." you say, your eyes filled with anticipation. Anakin's gaze locks onto yours for a moment before he nods, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Your father approaches, engaging Anakin in conversation about the farm and the upcoming town festival. You turn to your mother, your cheeks flushed but your voice steady. "I'll be right back, I just need to check on the chicken coop."

Your mother doesn't seem to suspect anything unusual since this was usually the time you'd check on the chickens anyway. "Take your time, dear. We'll be in here for a bit longer." She waves you off, her smile warm and understanding.

You wait for everyone to settle down before slipping out of the house, making sure to lock the door behind you. The moonlit night casts a pearlescent glow over the yard, illuminating the path leading to the barn. You hurry inside, your heart racing with exhilaration.

Anakin watches you leave, his eyes never leaving yours as you exit the house. He knows what's coming next, and he can't help but feel a whirlwind of trepidation. The anticipation killing him, but he forces himself to continue the conversation with your father, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him.

Finally, your father finishes his glass of sweet tea and stands up, nodding goodbye to Anakin after he explains that he should be heading home.

The sound of crickets and distant frogs filled the air as Anakin walks towards the barn, his boots rustling against the grass beneath him. He approaches the old barn slowly, his heart racing faster than a stallion at the starting gate. He takes a deep breath before opening the door, the creak of the hinges echoing through the night. He called out your name softly, his voice tinged with anticipation. The barn is dimly lit, with the moonlight filtering in through the cracks in the wooden walls.

As he stepped inside, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. You were there, your eyes locked onto his.

"Hi." you say softly, your voice tinged with a hint of mischief. The barn feels smaller now, the air thick with tension. Your eyes lock onto each other, and the crickets chirping outside seem to grow louder. Anakin takes a step towards you, his confidence wavering only slightly.

"Hey," his tone is softer than normally, you could tell just from his voice he was nervous. His eyes are locked on you, scanning every inch of your body. "Your folks know you're in here?" he asks.

You shake your head, biting your lip to suppress your smile. "I told them I'm checking on the chickens." His eyebrow raises, a hint of amusement playing on his face.

Anakin clicks his tongue while shaking his head teasingly. "You shouldn't be lyin' to your parents sweetheart." He looks at you with a certain sparkle in his eyes, as if you made him feel special with a simple remark.

"Technically, I glanced over there when i was walking over here." you state matter-of-factly. Anakin steps closer to you, his fingers brushing the little strands of hair out of your face. His eyes never leaving yours. His touch is gentle, yet electric, making your heart race even faster. You step closer to him and you can't help but feel the pull between you two. The barn feels comforting and inviting, a secret haven away from the world.

"You look real pretty tonight." Anakin compliments sincerely, his hand still resting on your cheek. His thumb brushes against your jawline, sending shivers down your spine. You nuzzle your cheek against Anakin's big palm. "Thanks," you whisper, your voice barely audible in the silence of the barn.

Anakin's thumb traces a line along your lower lip, teasingly brushing against the corner of your mouth. His hand moves to your waist, his fingertips grazing the hem of your dress, sending electric currents through your body. Anakin leans in, pressing his lips against yours in a gentle peck. He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching for your reaction. Seeing your approval, he leans in again, this time with more intensity. His kiss is soft yet passionate, filled with a sense of longing.

The kiss intensifies, your lips pressing harder against each other, tongues dancing in a rhythm only you two understand. Anakin's hands slide into your hair, pulling you closer, his breath hitching in your mouth. You break the kiss, trailing your lips against the rough stubble along his jaw. He groans softly, his hand tightening on your hair.

"Been thinkin' about you all day," Anakin panted between breaths. He grips your waist to pull you impossibly closer as you continue to explore his neck with your lips. "You and that damn dress." His hands moved up to cup your breasts, massaging them roughly through the thin fabric of your dress.

You giggle softly, your teeth grazing lightly against his neck. "You're that worked up over a dress, Ani?" Anakin whines quietly in response, his hips desperately bucking in your direction. You pull back slightly, your eyes locked on Anakin's. His eyes widened in surprise as you suddenly dropped to your knees, your hands reaching for his belt buckle. He groaned, his hips rocking forward, his cock straining against his pants.

Your hands reach for the hem of his pants, slowly pulling them down, revealing his muscular thighs. You reach down further, your fingers brushing against the waistband of his underwear. With a quick tug, they fall to the ground revealing his thick cock, hard and ready just for you.

"You're killing me kid." He managed to croak out as you slowly wrap your hand around the base of his shaft, stroking it gently. You lean forward and kiss his angry red tip. It twitches in anticipation, leaking a small amount of precum onto your lip. Your tongue darts out, tentatively exploring the head of his cock, savoring the salty taste. You moan softly, your hands reaching down to cup his balls, massaging them gently.

Anakin's hands grip your hair tightly, his moans turning into groans of pleasure as you continue to tease him. "F-fuckin' hell," he growls, his hips rocking back and forth, pushing his cock further into your mouth. You stroke the part of him that doesn't fit into your mouth, your fingers gliding up and down his length. You can feel him twitching, his body trembling under your touch.

His cock pulses in your hand and his breaths come in ragged gasps. You gag slightly, your eyes watering, but you don't pull away. Instead, you take as much of him as you possibly can.

" 'M close- hold on, I'm- ah!" His cock twitches violently in your mouth, shooting a hot stream of cum down your throat. You swallow it unhesitatingly, eager to please him. Gazing up at Anakin, your eyes is fixed on his. He's panting heavily, his hands shaking slightly. His eyes are filled with admiration and desire. You can feel the heat of his gaze, and it makes you blush slightly.

"Come 'ere," he says, his voice hoarse. He pulls you to your feet, his lips crashing into yours. His tongue dances with yours, tasting himself on your tongue. His hands wandering over your body, cupping your ass and pulling you closer. As you kiss Anakin, you can feel him growing hard again, his cock pressing against your thigh. He slowly walks forward, guiding you towards the small tractor in the back of the barn. His lips never leave yours, his hands roaming over your body, exploring every inch. He moans into the kiss, slapping his big hand against the fat of your ass. "Turn around for me baby." he commands.

Anakin bends you over the tractor, and flips your dress up, exposing your pink cotton panties to him. He strokes the growing wet spot gently, his fingers grazing your bare skin.

"Jesus, she's practically dripping for me." he whispers, his voice filled with lust. His hands move to your panties, tugging them to the side, revealing your swollen, hot flesh. He licks his lips, his eyes locked onto your slobbering cunt. His cock pulses, ready to be inside you.

Anakin lines up his cock with your entrance, gently pushing in. You gasp, your body adjusting to his girth. He holds onto your hips, guiding himself inside you. He thrusts deeper, his cock filling you completely. You moan softly, your body quickly getting used to his size. "Thaaat's it, angel." he praises, his voice low and alluring. "Let me in."

His hips move slowly at first, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease. Your body responds, your cunt clenching around him, pulling him deeper. Anakin's breaths come in ragged gasps as he starts to move faster, his hips slamming into you, each thrust sending you further onto the tractor.

You cry out as he sweetly rolls his abdomen, his cock hitting your sweet spot with each movement. The tractor creaks under your weight, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the barn.

"Takin' me so good baby." he growls, you can feel his cock stretching you, filling you completely.

"M-more Ani," you beg, your voice hoarse. "Need more-"

"Yeah? You want more?" he rasps, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. Anakin pulls you up by your neck and your back is now pressed against his chest. He thrusts harder, his cock hitting your G-spot with every movement. You yelp in surprise, your nails digging into the arm he has wrapped around your shoulders to keep your body flush against his. "There you go, you can take it, I know you can."

"Needy little girl," he teases, his voice thick with desire. "Just couldn't keep your hands off me at dinner, shit, could've bent you over that damn table and fucked you raw in front of your folks if I wanted to."

You moan, your head thrown back, your body moving with his. Your walls flutter around him when you hear his vulgar words.

He chuckles, his hands gripping your neck tighter. "You'd like that wouldn't you? Oh, you're dirty." He turns your head roughly, his lips crashing into yours, kissing you messily.

His tongue duels with yours, his hands gripping your neck tighter, holding you in place. You moan into the kiss, your body trembling. "Ani- cumming, c-cumming!" You can't form any coherent words, your breath coming in gasps as you neared your climax.

"Let go sweetheart, I got you," Anakin's breath tickles the shell of your ear as he speaks. You cry out as your orgasm quickly wracks over your body, your cunt contracting tightly around his cock. "That's my girl, c'mon." His breath comes in ragged gasps, and sweat trickles down his forehead, his chest heaving. It takes a few more powerful thrusts for him to fully unload inside you, his cum filling you up completely.

He takes a moment to catch his breath, and carefully withdraws from you, his cock glistening with your wetness. He hastily pulls up his pants and adjusts himself.

"You did so good for me." he whispers, his voice filled with awe. He carefully fixes your dress, smoothing out the wrinkles. "You look even prettier now," he says, his eyes filled with admiration.

He reaches up, fixing your hair, his fingers grazing your face. "You best get back to the house," he says, his voice filled with concern. "You know I'll be here tomorrow."

You nod, your cheeks flushed, your heart still racing from your encounter with him. "Mhm," you hum quietly. He smirks, his eyes filled with mischief.

You smile, a blush spreading across your cheeks when he leans in and brings his lips to yours one last time.

Anakin leads you towards the barn door, his hand still wrapped around yours. "I'll see you tomorrow sweetheart." he coos, his voice filled with promise.

You nod, your cheeks still flushed, your heart racing. "See you, farmboy." you say, your voice shaky. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, and you step out of the barn, your body still buzzing from the encounter. As you walk away, you can feel his eyes on you, watching you every step of the way. You glance back, catching him standing by his truck, his hands on his hips, watching you walk away.

You enter the house, trying to compose yourself. Your parents were still awake, sitting in the living room, sipping on their drinks. They didn't notice anything amiss about you, thankfully. You made your way upstairs to your room, still feeling the evidence of your encounter between your legs.

You feel a thrill of excitement, knowing that Anakin will be waiting for you at that old barn, ready to have you whenever he wants.

#nai writes ୨୧ #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin smut #hayden christensen smut #hayden christensen #st4rfckerz

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togrowoldinv · 8 months ago

Text

Meteors

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When you start working on the Barton’s farm, you meet Natasha

Note: It’s been wayyy too long since I’ve been able to make time to write. Hope y’all enjoy this Nat fluff!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

Natasha watches from the front porch as a truck she’s unfamiliar with pulls up in the driveway. Just when she’s about to go ask Laura if she had any idea who was arriving, the woman steps out onto the porch.

“Right on time,” Laura comments mostly to herself.

“Who’s this?” Natasha asks, her attention is piqued.

“The new farmhand,” Laura explains. “She’s been working here every week for about a month now. Clint didn’t tell you?”

Nat shakes her head.

“Well, she’s pretty great at it,” the older woman continues. “Come meet her.”

Natasha follows Laura down the steps and to the truck. You are unloading a bale of hay from the bed of the truck when they walk up.

“Hello!” Laura greets you. She’s always so kind. “How are you?”

“I’m doing well,” you reply before turning around to actually see her. “How are you?”

You drop the bale onto the group and turn to see more than one person standing there.

“Oh hi,” you say to the new person. She politely lifts the corners of her lips, but doesn’t quite smile at you.

“This is Nat,” Laura says. “Nat, this is y/n.”

“It’s very nice to meet you,” you say, holding your hand out for her shake. She takes it in hers and the eye contact you make lingers.

“Oh, I forgot I have cookies in the oven,” Laura says. “I’ll be back. Nat why don’t you get to know y/n a bit.”

With that, Laura leaves you there with this beautiful stranger. God, she really is beautiful. You both stand there a little awkwardly before you make a move to talk to her more.

“So, how do you know the Bartons?” You ask.

“I work with Clint,” Nat says. You try not to let yourself go weak in the knees at hearing her voice for the first time. “You’re probably familiar with what we do.”

“Partially,” you say with a soft laugh. “I better get started for the day. I’ll see you around?”

Nat nods and walks back towards the house. You work the rest of the day with Natasha on your mind. She had uttered barely ten words to you, and yet you can’t get her out of your head.

A few days go by before you see her again. It’s early in the morning when you arrive. Natasha is sitting in a rocking chair with baby Nate in her arms. You walk to the porch to say hello.

“Good morning,” you greet her.

“Good morning, y/n,” she says. You try memorize the way your name sounds coming from her lips.

“He’s up early,” you comment.

“Yeah, a little too early. I offered to hang out with him while Clint and Laura sleep in,” Nat replies.

You smile at that.

“You’re here earlier today,” Nat says. You try not to overanalyze why she knows your schedule so well. It’s probably just the spy in her, you think.

“I am indeed. The cows need some extra work today, so I got here early,” you explain. “Come on out to pasture if you get bored. I’ll be there all day.”

“I just might do that,” Natasha replies.

You get a boost of confidence from her words. After you bid her a farewell for now, you drive out to the cattle field.

Meanwhile, the rest of the Barton family wakes up. The kids eat breakfast and start chores. Clint asks Nat to help him with some outside work.

A few hours go by and Laura calls everyone in for lunch. Natasha looks around the kitchen for you, but she doesn’t see you.

“Is y/n eating with us?” She asks.

“She likes to stay out there and work, so I usually take her some food after we eat,” Laura explains. She tries to read Nat’s expression. “You could take it to her today if you want.”

“Oh, sure. Yeah I can do that,” Nat says.

Laura smiles knowingly. The family eats and then Natasha makes her way to you.

At the sight of you wrangling cows, she can’t help but smile. You’ve shed the light jacket you were wearing this morning and she can see how strong you are.

“Oh hey, Natasha!” You say once you see her.

“Hey,” she replies, her head cocked to the side a little to examine your current position. “Do I even want to know what you’re doing?”

“Probably not,” you reply. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Lunch,” Nat says. “Laura’s famous grilled cheese.”

You walk away from the cows and towards Natasha. She stands by the truck, so you open the tailgate and sit on it. You pat the area next to you as a way to ask her to sit.

She hands you the lunch bag and lightly blushes when your hand touches hers.

“Thank you, Nat,” you say. “Wait, do you prefer Nat or Natasha?”

“Either one,” she says, shrugging. “Technically my name isn’t Natasha, but I’ve always gone by that.”

“That is a fun fact,” you say. Nat laughs. You try to memorize the sound. “I like Natasha.”

“Then call me Natasha,” she says.

There’s a silence, but it’s not awkward. You eat your sandwich and watch the animals move around the farm. You wonder what Natasha is thinking about as she swings her legs and sits next to you.

“It’s so peaceful out here,” the redhead breaks the silence. “I feel like I can actually think and be free.”

“Yeah, I love it. Being out on a farm is my comfort place. So far, this one is my favorite,” you say.

“Why’s that?”

“The people. Clint, Laura, the kids,” you say. “And you.”

“I’m already a reason?”

“You were a reason I love this place the second I met you,” you say. You didn’t mean for it to come across so cheesily, but Nat doesn’t seem to mind. “Hey, how long are you staying here for?”

“A few more weeks maybe,” Natasha says. “Why?”

“In two weeks there’s supposed to be a meteor shower. Maybe we could come out in the field and watch it together?”

“Sounds fun,” Nat says, trying to act casual.

“I better get back to helping Clint. He’ll be pissed I let him stack bricks alone.”

You chuckle at her words. You want to ask her to stay, but at least you know you’ll be seeing her around.

And from that point on, Natasha brings you lunch every day. Laura doesn’t even have to ask her to do it. Nat wants to. She seems to sit with you longer and longer each day.

It all leads up to the night of the meteor shower. You wear a nice shirt and jeans and drive over to the farm.

When you knock on the door, Lila answers. You greet the family and have dinner with them. Natasha is in her element here. You can see how she lights up around the kids. And she loves watching you interact with them too.

Once dinner is over, you and Natasha sneak outside. You drive out to the field and lay a blanket down in the bed of the truck.

“Very fancy,” Nat comments.

“Only the best for you, Natasha,” you joke. “Laying down is the best way to see it.”

You both lie down a respectable distance from each other, but close enough that you both have butterflies.

“You know when I was a kid, I loved anything that glowed in the sky,” Nat opens up. “Stars, planets, and things that didn’t even really have to do with the sky. Like fireflies.”

“That’s really sweet, Natasha. I love those too,” you say. “There’s so many out here in the summer.”

“I wish I saw them more.”

“You’ve gotta move out here I guess,” you say. “Oh look!”

You point to the first meteor falling. Nat watches with bright eyes. You can’t drag your eyes away from the way she glows in the night light. Her green eyes are illuminated by the scene happening in the sky.

Natasha turns her head to the side and catches you staring.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, looking away a bit.

“Don’t be,” Nat says. “But you are missing the show up there.”

“It’s fun to watch you watch it,” you say. “You’re beautiful, you know?”

Natasha definitely blushes at that. Her hand finds yours between the two of you. You’re it sure who leans in first, but you end up just centimeters from her lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Natasha asks.

“Please,” you reply.

The distance is shattered between the two of you. Natasha’s kiss is soft, but firm. Her intentions are clear as she moves her perfect lips over yours.

“Now we’re both missing the show up there,” Natasha jokes when she pulls away.

“So worth it,” you say.

You kiss Natasha again. And again. And a few more times before you decide to go back to the house.

“I’ll see you in the morning?” You ask her once you’ve walked up to the front door together.

“Yes,” Natasha says. “Thanks for tonight, y/n. I haven’t enjoyed myself this much in a long time.”

“Anytime, Natasha. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she says.

You hug her for the first time and love the way she feels in your arms. It’s like she is perfectly shaped to be in your grasp.

You share a brief kiss before you let her go inside. As you walk back to the truck, you can’t help but do a little happy dance. Natasha watches through the window and laughs.

This is the start of something amazing. You can feel it.

You’re falling for her faster than the meteors fell in the sky. Little do you know, she’s falling for you in the exact same way.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort

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