Originally posted by televisionsgif. Thank you in advance :. Originally posted by liminalise. You turned the corner, almost home from a shift at the good old job. Violet looked over at you as Tate nibbled at her neck. As you turned to but it on the coat rack, it was taken from your hands by a black blur with red hair. You processed it was Moira and your brief confusion subsided. She brought her hand up to swipe some hair out of her face, but she drug up her dress slightly in the process, showing off the strap that connected her stocking to her undergarments.
You stood there, still facing away from everyone. You went upstairs to the bathroom to get ready for bed. After minutes upon minutes, you walked to your room. Closing the door, you turned to see Moira look up from making your bed. You tried to not to stare for too long, so you looked away and out the window across the room. You stood awkwardly and Moira cleared her throat to get your attention. You looked over to her, seeing a glint in her eyes. She climbed up onto your bed, popping a button on her dress. Keep reading. Originally posted by serpentgifs.
Your heavy wrists carried a throbbing ache as your fingers tapped away at the sticky keys of your old computer, desperate to finish the 7, word essay that your professor had assigned to you, and the other 27 students in your class. Which, to be perfectly honest, you thought was absolute bullshit. Yeah, those ones.
Though, you soon came to your senses, as her hands began to wander, one of your own, though clammy and hot, rose to close around hers. Surely you feel that.. Though you were shocked to find her arms around you in a tight, wholesome embrace. Not a second before. Could you do a Moria O'Hara x female reader, and the reader has been lovers with Moira for a few week and one night she wants to have sex with her but while she is her old self.
Nobody else has had sex with her that way. Sorry it sounds creepy. Warnings : Smut like a lot. Moira smut with old! You remember the first day, when you moved in, was your first encounter with the woman who was now your maid. The day was sunny and the last of the movers had brought the last of your things into the house. You had assured them that you would arrange all the furniture to your liking, and that they just needed to bring everything into their appropriate rooms.
You had just made your way into the living room to tip the movers when you noticed them staring behind you. Turning around, you see a beautiful young woman looking directly at you. You went into the kitchen and put the box on the kitchen counter before looking around to the number of boxes. You sighed, nonetheless happy, and went to check on the workers in the living room.
They were trying to fit the furniture next to the sea of boxes. You took a moment to look at the house you were in, detailing your surroundings when you heard the front opening and you turned on a woman. I was looking for you. Is everything all right? The husband claimed to have witnessed the maid of this house, who, of course, denied being here at such a late hour, and the wife saw the wife.
Before both seeing the couple injuring each other physically and advised them to run. You were slackjawed. Marcy saw the look of disbelief on your face and waved off her comment. You nodded, stunned.
You said it yourself it was never proven. People did die in this house. What do you think? When you looked up to Marcy, you saw the uneasy look on her face.
You stood back up when the workers came toward you. Ten minutes later you came back in the living room and found Marcy at the same spot, files in her hands and still that uneasy look on her face. Marcy placed the papers in front of you, and you started looking through what was written. When you reached the end Marcy handed, you a pen and you signed, feeling eyes on you. You turned slightly and could have sworn to have seen black clothes.
I guess it is done. You jumped slightly looking back at Marcy in front of you. Marcy left toward the front door, opening the door. But the maid is still hither. She left, closing the door behind her, leaving you, staring at the door. You turned around to look at the house; your hands resting on your waist. Oh hi. She was wearing an extremely revealing French maid outfit. One of those you see for Halloween and adult parties. You focussed on your tea and looked to your left, feeling observed.
Did Marcy skip telling you what happened here? But I sort of new the house a bit. Not everyone has that chance to be able to walk freely. What a first impression! You laughed nervously when she turned, her dress was a bit unbuttoned and seduction was emanating from her. Suddenly the door of the kitchen opened on a golden-haired woman. You turned startled, while Moira was making a six feet long face.
Its called respect. I hope her dusting has improved. This time it were you and Constance who looked at Moira speechless.
Actually, please, do leave. Constance passed the door without a look for either of you, and you turned toward Moira speechless. Moira stopped her movement half scandalized, half laughing. She kept on cleaning the cupboards and caught a glimpse of the look you gave her. You rotated your head quickly, cursing yourself. Who would dress like that and have good intentions? You have to be more careful with this one. Call me anything but that, please?
You looked at her, a tired sigh passing through your lips. You sensed her tone turning harsh and less friendly, her face twisted by something dark. You added laughing. Moira seemed to relax after you completed your sentence.
She turned to you a beaming smile on her face. You were about to leave to go upstairs, but you turned toward Moira, an odd look on your face. You chased the feelings away and focussed on the present task.
Hours later. You let yourself fall on the bed. The bedroom was done. And now there were every other rooms to take care off. Later, tonight you only wanted calm and peace. To rest after such a day of labor and meeting new people. You heard your phone ring waking you from your planning. About that. Johanna has been exhausting me with questions about you.