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jarofstyles · 2 months

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Lush

Hello my ducklings! Since we have been getting a lot of questions about our Patreon and what is included, we decided to give you guys peeks into the series we have exclusively on there. This is Lush, escort y/n x dark businessman H. There will be some twists and turns in this one, hot smut, a fake relationship and a possessive and slightly obsessive dark H- our favorite. This series will only be on Patreon but this is the first part to give you a taste!

Check out our Patreon for access to Lush and our other exclusive series + 100+ exclusive writings.

Warnings- escorting, mention of homelessness and money struggles, daddy kink etc

WC- 2.9k

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Y/N knew her job, and she did it well.

Sit still, look pretty. Perched on her favorite client’s lap, his strong thigh covered in a trouser that matched the blazer that probably cost more than she’d made in the last 3 months, she sipped her champagne quietly and ‘let the men talk.’

Harry Styles was an enigma. He had popped up a few weeks ago, bringing her to a dinner after a debriefing in a lux hotel in one of the bigger hotels on the Vegas strip. The window had overlooked it all, a penthouse that seemed to be used quite frequently considering the fridge had been stocked and he had socks stuffed in a drawer that she’d used later that night.

“I need you to sit on my lap, keep me company.” He had said plainly. The man was intimidating. Broad and tall, soft brown hair swept back and off his forehead. Stubble shadowing his face and over his lip, his features were sharp and his eyes a little harsh, but she could whole heartedly admit that he was the most attractive client she’d ever had. Being a year in after escaping a situation that was still haunting her nightmares, she had been eager to accept the higher paying and well vetted job she had, thank god, stumbled into. It wasn’t conventional, no, but nothing really was in Vegas.

“I can do that.” She replied, hands folded in her lap. He stood before her as she had sat on the couch, looking up at him as he spoke. “Is that all we’re doing in our time together?” To put it in a nicer way of asking. She could have bluntly asked if he was going to want sex, but she did try to at least have a little decorum- until the situation granted the freedom of it. It wasn’t uncommon for her and she was safe, tested, and generally did enjoy sex- but it was a job. This time, however, would probably be enjoyed more than she had in the past. A real attraction to the man would be helpful in many parts of making this more enjoyable.

“Who said that?” He rose a brow, looking down at her. It was a smoldering look but she couldn’t find it in herself to look away as he got closer and tilted her chin up. “I intend to take everything you’ll offer. I’d suggest canceling your plans for tomorrow.” She didn’t have to ask why. It was clear this man intended to fuck her, and fuck her well.

Spoiler- he did. Harry had, for all intents and purposes, rocked her shit. So when she found his name on her books twice the next week, she hadn’t complained. She’d been excited, actually, considering she’d been able to feel the sting of her ass when she’d sat in the Lyft the next morning to take her to her apartment. Another good thing about him, she found as she looked in her purse, was that he tipped extremely well. More than was deserved, if she was being honest, but the one time the girl brought it up he had shoved another hundred dollar bill into the waistband of her sleep shorts and sent her on her way.

It had become known to her that he specifically requested her. If she wasn’t available, he’d offer more money than the other client was paying- and her Madam had no problem with that, considering it upped her cut. She found herself with him 3 times this week, frequenting clubs and drowning out business talk as his large hand splayed across her waist and the other hand held a sweaty amber colored liquor on the rocks. Much to many of her friends and client’s surprise, Y/N didn’t drink much. She stuck to lighter things, champagne and rosé, and kept to a one to two drink maximum. She preferred keeping a clear head when on the job and honestly? Drinking wasn’t her thing. A buzz was nice, but anything past that meant a headache in the morning. She wasn’t a morning person to begin with.

This meeting was going past its normal time, making her wonder what was being said. If she was being frank- Y/N didn’t do much listening in his meetings. It felt like they were talking in code, another language, and she couldn’t be assed to listen about imports and exports and blah, blah, blah. Her brain was happy to sit and be warm on a handsome man’s lap, observing the dance floor. Dancing used to be so fun, something she’d always loved to do as a child. Now she didn’t get to do as much, even though she’d wished she could. Club dancing was far different than her normal type but if she was on the balcony of the most VIP of the VIP sections, she was going to take her people watching to the next level.

“Y’alright?” His raspy voice breathed over her ear, not taking his eyes off the men who were talking amongst themselves. “I know it’s late. We can go back soon.” While Harry wasn’t the most warm and fuzzy person, he did respect her time. He was a little scary, truthfully, and she didn’t want to upset him. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He was respectful and kind to her, he spoiled her with tips and orgasms, and she had no complaints. If staying out a bit later than he had said was the least of her worries besides his scowling, she was golden.

“I’m okay.” She smiled. “People watching. Sorry, I’m not paying attention. Dunno what half of the stuff you’re talking about means.”

Y/N had no reality of what he did. No clue. She was too afraid to google him. To ruin the illusion she had of him in her head. He passed the background test and signed the heavy contract that came with hiring her, so he wasn’t about to harm her or anything- and from what she’s learned in Vegas, sometimes you’re better off not knowing. There was a lot of shady business practices that went on. It was legitimately upset her if he was a bad person outside of the law, so she decided not to go searching for answers she possibly didn’t want to find.

“That’s good.” He murmured, pressing a private kiss underneath her ear. “Don’t worry about it. S’nothing interesting anyways. Got t’keep up appearances.” His voice dropped. “Would much rather be between your thighs. Missed this body while I was away.”

And, Oh. It made her hot, a nervous giggle leaving her throat as the words tickled against her ear. Harry had gone away on a business trip, he’d prefaced it because he had been gone 4 day. He’d prescheduled to meet her on the day he came back. Her stomach did a swoop in her body as the cool hand that held his glass deposited it on the table, finding her thigh and squeezing over it. “You did?”

She had to wonder if he was buttering her up, but the thought was dispelled because Harry didn’t need to do that. He had always been a bit blunt and she liked that about him. Less sweet talk that he didn’t mean. What he said made sense- complimenting her body and her mouth and appearance, what she did for him, but he never went too far and said things he didn’t mean. So she believed him when he nodded, slipping his hand further up her dress and making her swallow thickly. He’d given her pretty lingerie he’d bought from wherever he went, the buttery silk laying against her body under the dress that hugged her figure. Red, he said, because she was a little devil between the sheets. “I did. Got t’bring you with me next time.”

Some girls did that. Y/N wasn’t even sure what the rate would be for a trip, but the idea appealed to her. “You sure you can afford it?” She whispered back, a playful tilt to her lips. Obviously he could. He was by far the wealthiest man she had in her books, evident by the liquor he ordered, the watches he wore and the cars the drove in. It was arousing to her, if she was being honest. When she settled down one day, the one thing she really wanted was financial stability. Maybe that sounded shallow, but with her history with no money and being a little jaded, it made sense to her.

“Can afford that, and a shopping spree for you while I do business.” He brushed his cool fingertips against her slightly damp panties. Harry didn’t smile often, but when he did? It was a smirk. A hot, arrogant little smirk that she should probably be annoyed by, but wasn’t. “Need to get you out of here, though. Have something I want to talk to you about before I sink you down on my cock.” His fingers retreated after a gentle brush to find them wet, moving to her leg as he began to wrap up the meeting. People would listen, even if they weren’t finished- he just had that way about him.

—--

Y/N had no clue what, exactly, he wanted to talk to her about. They’d had some nice conversations so far about a plethora of things. Movies, books, restaurants, some morals. But it wasn’t too deep. Both of them had seen it for what it was, even if they had impeccable sexual chemistry. She didn’t know the man all that well, only what was told to her and what he had divulged- and knowing the man had a sweet tooth didn’t account for much. So it was slightly intimidating when he asked her to meet him in the living room of the suite as he put away his watch and jacket.

What could he possibly have to talk to her about? Her brain was coming up with nothing.

“C’mere.” He sat himself down on the couch, offering his lap back up to her. It wasn’t something she did in private unless his hands were down her panties or she was riding him, but she decided to go for it. Her heels kicked off to the side, she sat herself back in the familiar way. It had taken her off guard, but his hand took her own and she watched as he flipped it over, thumbing over her ring finger. “I need to ask you a favor. A proposition.” He murmured, calculating eyes going back to her face. “And you can say no, if you want. I’ll understand.” Of course, this made her alarm bells ring but there was little time to panic. Considering he was a very get to the point man, he did exactly that. “I’d like for you to quit your current job and pretend to be my fiance.”

The bomb was dropped. Why, exactly, a man of his caliber needed a fake fiance? She had not a fucking clue. Harry continued, her face slack in shock. He took that into account, it seemed. “I like you. You’re polite, know how to behave in public. Gorgeous little thing. You’re intelligent, you’re quick, and you understand how to keep to yourself. That’s a very valuable thing to me.” His thumb resumed rubbing her ring finger. “We have incredible sex. You fulfill and exceed my needs, and I’m satisfied with sex for once in my life.” Y/N let him do whatever he wanted and thoroughly enjoyed it. There was no faking it with them. Their chemistry crackled in the air when it shifted. There was no doubting that. “My family has been pressuring me to settle down. I have no time to properly date, nor the desire to.” He sure as fuck wasn’t the type to go on dating apps, and the dating pool he was around was a lot of vapid people with money hungry libidos. At least he would know Y/N was there for money and there would be no confusion between them. “I enjoy your company. It isn’t traditional nor conventional, but I’d provide for you. I will deposit your average monthly income in your own bank account and give you a card to my own. I’d pay for your rent while you stay with me, and you’d have free time to do as you please. Whatever hobbies you’d like. Horse riding, art, reading, I don’t care what it is if you like it.”

Her head was swimming. What the fuck? She’d heard of men falling in love with escorts, sure, but this seemed… More transactional. For some reason, it made her feel a little more comfortable. He wasn’t proclaiming love after barely knowing her. He knew how it went and that she needed to be provided for. “Like a sugar baby?” She blurted out.

“Not particularly. My fiance in title. You’ve been introduced as my girl to everyone already, so it isn’t a difficult sell to anyone but my family. We’d announce our engagement, I’ll bring you to London to meet them, let it run it’s course.” His eyes bore into hers. “I don’t want you with anyone else while you’re mine. I’ll be the only one you sleep with, and vice versa. I don’t want you to split your time between me and anyone else. I’m asking for devotion, which is a lot. But I’d like it to be you.”

“Why?” Y/N knew he had explained it but it was still confusing. “I know what you’ve said but… surely theres other people that you’d want to ask? I’m just an escort you’ve been seeing for a little while. I mean.. The sex is great, don’t get me wrong.” And she was extremely attracted to him and his energy, but… “I’m not in my escort mode all the time. I don’t want to be working 24/7. I’m not as docile while off the clock.” She wasn’t about to get put into 24/7 smile and nod territory. It was fine when it was an outing, or even a night, but she did have a personality she quite liked outside of it.

“I wouldn’t expect you to be agreeable all the time. In fact, I’d like to see you fight me a little.” Harry’s smirk returned. “Makes the sex hotter. But…” he returned to his business face. “I chose you because we get along. I don’t like a lot of people. I may pretend I do, but it’s difficult for me to find people who don’t make me irritated. You’re… interesting to me.” It wasn’t the answer she expected, no, but still. She had more questions.

“So what about after it’s all done and over with? I’ll end up on the streets, homeless again because I know Madam isn’t going to just let me back on her lists.” She crossed her arms, not realizing what she’d said. Harry caught it, pocketing it for later. It didn’t sit right that she had been on the streets at all, but that wasn’t a topic he could broach right now. He didn’t have the right to ask yet.

“I will make sure you’re set after this is done.” He promised. “I will have all of your expenses covered while you’re with me. Nails, hair, food, clothing, hobbies. You’ll be making your pay and then some every week and not touching it. And if it ends early, I will payout an extra mil. Does that sound reasonable?” He rose an eyebrow. “I’ve got the paperwork with me, but you can sit on it if you want.”

“How long can I sit on it for?” It took everything in her to not bite at her nails. The one thing the acrylics were good for was curbing that habit. “It’s not a no, but I’d like to look at the contract and have a lawyer look over it before I agree to anything.” As young as she may seem, she wasn’t stupid. This would be a perfect way to take advantage of her. While she didn't have that feeling from him, she’d be dumb not to protect herself.

She didn’t expect the smile from him, but it made her heart beat a bit faster as he brought her hand up to kiss it. “Smart fuckin’ girl you are.” He laughed. “Good. That works with me. I hope you do sign it, though.” His eyes darkened a bit. Harry wasn’t good at sharing and the idea of this pretty thing belonging to him, in essence, made his dick twitch. “I’d love to take you with me to Italy and see you on my yacht. Maybe fuck you on it. Think you’d really love that.”

Y/N had a feeling she would, too. The idea of being with one man, a man she so far enjoyed despite a bit of arrogance and intimidation, was appealing after a year here. But she needed to cover her own ass before sinking into something too good to be true. “I would.” Her nails moved from his hand to card through his soft hair. “I’d love that. But I think you should focus on tonight, hm?” Her legs opened a little, and she guided his hand back to where it had been previously. “Take a look at the pretty things you’ve already got, Daddy.”

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marnle · 1 year

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My sweet, sweet Dove - Mafia!Bucky x Fem!reader

Summary - Bucky Barnes finds the peace he so rightfully craves in his best friend, the worlds upon his shoulders, yet his lust for you lives on through his darkest of days.

Warnings - smutttt, juicy af, mentions of violence, slight alcohol consumption, grinding etc.

A/n - Hi all, my requests are open! I’ve never really published my works before, so this is all new to me, but feel free to drop a request, and I’d love to see what I can do! :)

Enjoy, safe reading! <3

————

You sauntered into the kitchen, it was incredibly dark, yet a small lamp situated in the corner illuminated the majority of the room, drowning it in a blanket of rusty amber. You grabbed a small glass and walked towards the sink, filling it with cold water, it swirled around the glass as though it were a prisoner, fighting against its confines. You propped yourself up on the marble countertop, it was icy underneath you, a considerable difference to the heat that burned underneath your skin and through your veins. The deep, angered and somewhat laboured voices that previously echoed through the halls had silenced. They’d swirled through the walls, up the stairs, and burst through the windows too. Bucky had informed you that he was working late, you’d understood what he’d meant, yet the scale of debate that evidently had occurred left you feeling drained - and you hadn’t even been in the room.

Bucky was one of your closest friends, your main confidant in the times you needed him most. So when you informed him that you had nowhere to stay, he practically offered his whole life to you, and you took it with his blue eyes piercing what felt like your soul. So you resided in his main estate where he conducted his official work, his official business meetings, you knew he was dirty, and downright inequitable, but his loyalty was unlike any other, your friendship was unlike any other, and you owed him the world and more.

So as you sipped your water, and pondered the evident lack of sleep that laced your features, you didn’t hear his office door finally open after hours, or the trudge of his tired feet upon the dark wooden floor approaching, the leather of their seams making the slightest of noises.

His black silk tie sat loosely around his neck, his mountainous shoulders were tightly winded practically up to his ears, the top buttons of his previously pristine shirt were undone, and said shirt was hanging messily out of his slacks, of which sat loosely on his hips, his brunette hair was unkempt, almost spikey as the last of the gel he’d previously put in began to finally wear away.

“Doll? You alright?” He asked, snapping you out of your trance, he moved opposite to you and plopped himself shakily down on the floor with a large sigh, leaning against the kitchen cupboards behind him, his head thrown back in a show of exhaustion.

You simply hummed.

“Why are you still up?” He queried, running his large hand through his hair, absolutely destroying any remnants of orderliness it previously had maintained. Glaring at the girl in front of him almost alarmingly.

“Couldn’t sleep is all.” You replied, taking another small sip from your glass before handing it downwards towards Bucky. He accepted it, and pulled out a metallic flask, pouring a brown liquid into the mix, swirling it, then drinking it. It burned the back of his throat and warmed him from the inside out. He looked at you curiously, his oceanic eyes bore into yours in order to gauge a reaction. It was silent as you returned his eye contact, you were sure you could hear a pin drop.

“Well, hand it over.” you laughed nervously, taking a gulp of the alcoholic beverage. It also burned your throat, causing your face to scrunch up in disgust. You could hear the deep rumble of Bucky's laughter in the background, it sounded angelic to your ears.

“Bad night?” You asked, anxiously pinching the skin of your fingers as you awaited his reply, not wanting him to ever suffer at the slightest. You observed the way his jaw slightly clenched and went slack, how he breathed slightly faster at such, and slowly regained his composure not a moment after.

“Something like that Doll.” he replied, letting out yet another sigh. In complete honesty, the meeting was a mess, his business partner had backed out of a paramount deal, meaning he’d have to find a backup as soon as possible, something that wasn’t likely. This left him open to financial attacks elsewhere. He’d even lost his temper, covering his golden signet ring that sat dormant on his finger in a layer of carmine; the ring you twirled when you felt anxious. His business partner had messed up his ring, his new enemy had messed up your ring, and Bucky had made sure he paid for it.

“Is there something I could do to make you feel any better?”.

He subtly nodded, allowing his stoic exterior only to fall in your presence, something that exhausted him beyond words.

He kneeled and shuffled towards you whilst you sat upon the counter, arms open, knowing exactly what he needed. He pushed his head into your stomach, breathing in your scent, roses and fresh linen, it made him feel safe. His was sandalwood, it engulfed your scenes and knocked the wind out of your chest, just like it always did.

You placed your hand upon his head, stroking your fingers through his hair as you felt the tension leave his large body, you leaned down and placed a small kiss on the crown of his head.

This caused him to gaze up at you, a longing in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before, and you were sure yours mirrored them as such.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You whispered at a barely audible level, you could feel his warm breath against your skin.

“Like what?” he replied, his voice breathy and almost desperate.

Your hands moved down from his hair towards his chin, cupping his face as though he was the last living being on earth. Your eyes fluttered between his lips and his eyes, the room was spinning, the air was thick.

“Like this.” you whispered before slowly bringing his face to yours, and placing your smooth lips over his own.

Bucky felt as though his world had stopped, his heart was erratically beating, his head didn’t feel as though it was his own, his body wasn’t his own. The tension had been snapped just as quickly as it arised, and Bucky felt as though he was on cloud nine, there and then he decided that the feel of your lips against his own was the singular most effective high he’d ever encountered, it was a high he was now addicted to, and one he’d never ever let go.

He stilled in your grasp, causing you to pull away.

“Bucky, I’m so sorry.” You muttered, a wave of red covered your cheeks, horrified at what you’d just done. Yet before your brain could sabotage you further, and convince you otherwise, Bucky slammed his lips onto yours, grasping the back of your neck in his large hands. He groaned at the taste of you, a sweetness he’d only ever imagined.

He pushed into your mouth, your teeth collided in a show of desperation and finally requited lust. You slid your hand into his brown hair once again, yet under completely different circumstances.

You grasped his hair, pulling him off of your lips, it made him groan.

“Tell me you don’t want this, tell me you don't Bucky.”

“You know I can’t.”

He picked you up, wrapping his large arms around your torso, his fingers pushed under your shirt, drawing circles upon your skin, skin of which felt as though it were a juvenile flame of the sun.

You tucked your face into the crevice of his neck, his scent was the strongest it had ever been, it blinded you, and you loved it. You dragged your lips across his neck, biting and nipping at whatever skin you could, making his groans rougher, whinier.

He’d walked you both into the living room where he dropped backwards onto the couch, you in his arms. You were sitting in his lap, he was so extremely hard under you that you couldn’t help but tease.

You slowly rolled your hips, the friction causing you both to moan in unison, in pleasure. He grasped your body as though you were his life line, and even though he hadn’t said as such, you both knew it was true for the both of you.

You continued to grind against him, you moved against each other as though you were made for each other. Your moans were beautiful, they made him lose his mind, his great intelligent mind reduced to nothing simply by your presence alone. His hands grabbed your hips for a moment, your face was directly in front of his, you inhaled his breath as though it were your last.

“Doll, I can’t last long like this.” He moaned, more like a whine, in an attempt to keep his composure.

“I bet.” you replied, causing his mouth to fall even further open in a state of disbelief, allowing you to sink your teeth into his lip, stealing even more of his sacred breath away.

Instead of slowing down you sped up, with Bucky’s hands gripping your waist so tightly, you were sure his touch was to be ingrained upon your soul. He ran his hand down towards where you longed for him most, and cupped your pussy, pushing his palm into your clit, causing you to let out a moan that echoed off of the walls, a moan he was sure he’d never forget. He ran his other hand up your body towards your nipple, and twirled it between his fingers, swapping between the two, making you feel as though you were atop of the world. The sight of you was enough for him to come right there, yet he’d only ever imagined this moment, and wanted, no, needed to drag it out for as long as possible, as long as he humanely could.

“Come on baby, let go for me.” He purred, gazing into your eyes as yours fought to stay open.

“Shh, that’s my Doll, let go love.” And you did, your body arched into his grasp, he pushed his palm even further into your clit as you came, creating such delicious pressure, you thought you were going to burst. You wrapped your arms around his body, engulfing him and curling into him to fit his form as though you were perfectly moulded to him as he came too, groaning and bucking his hips whilst his stomach and glistening abs contracted over and over again, he’d entirely lost control, the lust he felt wasn’t matched by another soul.

Your sweaty bodies sat wrapped around each other, breathy whimpers left the both of you as you fought your natural instincts to breathe. Bucky grasped your face, and silently laughed as he brought his lips to yours once again.

“My sweet, sweet Dove, how you’ve had me forever.”

————

Fanx 4 reading bros :)

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wlntrsldler · 17 days

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Three Hundred and Seventy-One Days | Luke Castellan

a/n: not canon-compliant! i hate this actually but i needed to write something to get me back in the zone! sunshine reader because i wanted a broody luke lol.

i. Three days.

Right before the sun sets behind the hill at Camp Half Blood, there's a chill in the air that hits Luke's skin in a way that makes him feel like he's back on the roof of his house in Connecticut. He found out about it when he returned from his failed quest when he was searching for a moment of solace, away from the pitiful eyes of the campers, away from the voice that haunted his dreams. Perched on a branch, hidden by the shade of the leaves, leaning against the bark of the tree with sticky amber clinging to the material of his orange shirt, Luke sits there until the sun disappears for the day.

It reminds him of the days he would crawl out of his bedroom window to escape the sounds of his mother's incoherent mumbling. He would sit there in nothing but a thin t-shirt and his cargo shorts, goosebumps rising on his skin, as he talked to himself. It was a bad habit he picked up in his younger years. He kept himself company at home because his mom didn't talk to him much, not really, and when she did, when her words made sense for once, all Luke could do was count down the minutes until he lost his mother again.

Before he was old enough to understand his heritage, who his father was, he used to pray to an entity he didn't believe in to give his mother moments of clarity, slivers of coherence so he at least knew something, anything, about the woman he called mom. But after the first time Luke's wishes were granted, he stopped praying. Somehow it was more painful watching his mother drift in and out of consciousness than it was living with a stranger he knew he loved, but knew nothing about.

For a year, that spot on the tree was a secret. Nobody knew that Luke would climb up there every day just to feel the breeze against his skin. Nobody questioned why the Hermes head counselor would disappear at the same time, until you came along.

"Whatcha doin' up there?"

Luke nearly lost his balance on the branch at the sound of your voice from under him. He looked down to see you smiling up at him, hands laced together behind your back. You were eighteen, the same as him, and when he first heard of your arrival, Luke was jealous. You got to have 18 years of childhood, while he was only granted half of that. It didn't seem fair.

"You should be at dinner," Luke replied, leaning back against the tree. The sun made the sky a soft orange color. The darkness of the night was creeping in through the corners of the sky, the chill he searches for each night engulfed him.

"To be fair, so should you, head counselor," You replied, analyzing the indents in the bark of the tree trunk that formed from Luke's constant climbing. You slotted your feet in the crevices, making your way to the tree branch beside Luke's. The two branches were close to each other, growing steadily until they almost touched at the tips. "Woah, this view is unreal."

"Be careful," He mumbled, clenching his jaw. "I'm not gonna take you to the infirmary if you fall and break a bone."

"Relax," You chuckled, situating yourself. "I can handle myself."

Luke nodded once and turned his attention back to the skyline. In this light, the scar across his cheek was prominent. It's healed well enough, but it still left a bump across his flesh that made Luke queasy every time he looked at it for too long. The two of you sat in silence as the sun disappeared. Luke tilted his head to look at you, only to find that you were already staring at him. He rubbed the side of his face against his shoulder as if trying to wipe away the scar on his shirt, "What are you doing here?"

You shrugged, "Not really into the whole offerings thing, to be honest."

"So you decided to wander into the woods alone?" Luke asked, "That's dangerous. There's a lot of things out here that you wouldn't believe. You can get hurt."

"But it's okay when you do it?"

"I know how to fight," Luke found himself taking on a defensive position. "You just got here."

"That doesn't mean I don't know how to fight," You replied. Your voice was calm, despite the slight bite to Luke's tone. "Just because I didn't spend my childhood playing with swords and bows and arrows doesn't mean I don't know how to fend for myself, y'know."

"The things out here are different from schoolyard bullies. I don't think you understand that."

"Are we going to ignore that I fought a hellhound on my way here or...?"

"You fought a hellhound?"

Luke wouldn't have guessed that by the way you walked into the Hermes cabin, all smiles and golden flecks of color in the irises of your eyes. You spoke in a preppy tone and he nearly had to grab his siblings by their ear to drag them away from you. If he was a betting man, he would bet that you were a child of Aphrodite.

"Mhm," You hummed, "See, I'm not so helpless."

"I didn't say you were."

"Yeah, but you implied it," You shrugged, not deterred by his tone. "Anyways, are you gonna tell me what you're doing here?"

"Well, I was trying to get some privacy," He replied. He should've been annoyed at the intrusion, but he couldn't bring himself to be upset with you as much as he should've been. "But that didn't go as planned."

"Sorry, sorry," You chuckled, putting your hands up in defense. "Didn't know keeping you company was a no-no. Maybe I do have some things to learn about camp after all."

He scoffed, "Hanging out with me should be the least of your worries."

"I dunno, I always seem to gravitate towards the broody types."

"I'm not broody."

"Right," You laughed. You turned to look at him, jaw dropping when you realized he was serious. "When was the last time you smiled? And not those fake, polite smiles you give to strangers trying to make small talk in the grocery store line, you know?"

No, he didn't know. He didn't go out much, much less to the grocery store to have conversations about the rising prices of produce or the lack of real milk options due to the infiltration of the non-dairy industry.

"I smile all the time," Luke replied, eyebrows furrowing in thought as he tried to remember the last time he smiled at someone. "I smile at campers."

"That's because it's your job, silly!" You giggled, shaking your head. "When was the last time you smiled just because?"

Luke pursed his lips, countering, "When was the last time you didn't smile?"

"When I was fighting the hellhound."

Luke felt his lips quirk up at that. It was a quick-witted response, he'll give you that. He stopped it from becoming anything more and cleared his throat.

"Okay, I'll leave you to it," You sighed, carefully stretching your legs down to the first indent on the tree. You skillfully climbed down and landed on your feet with a thud, "See you around, Luke."

Luke's mouth felt dry at the sound of his name leaving your lips. He was never a fan of his name before. He thought it sounded generic and unoriginal, but when you said it, it didn't sound half as bad as he thought it was. His stomach churned in a way that was foreign to him.

"Hopefully, not here!" He called out, watching as your figure retreated back to the main grounds. "Privacy, remember that!"

"I like the broody types, remember that!" You called back, waving to him before you disappeared into the maze of trees.

ii. Twelve days.

"You lied."

You looked up from your book with an eyebrow raised as you stared at the counselor at the foot of your bed. Luke was standing there, the signature stern look etched on his face. You placed your bookmark in your book, sitting up on your bed as you smiled at him, "Excuse me?"

He had his arms crossed over his chest, the beads of his camp necklace resting on the tops of his knuckles, "You lied. You didn't fight a hellhound."

"Okay, so I didn't fight a hellhound," You said, dragging on the word 'fight' for emphasis. "But I encountered a hellhound."

"Which you befriended."

"Which I befriended," You confirmed, "I named him Stanley. Wanna meet him?"

"No," Luke replied quickly. "That shouldn't even be allowed in here."

"He's sweet," You tutted, slipping your feet into your shoes as you stood up. "Give him a chance, I swear you'll love him."

"You're keeping a hellhound as a pet?"

"He's just a baby," You cooed, jutting out your bottom lip.

Luke felt his face twitch in half-annoyance and half-fondness. He didn't know if he found your naivete dangerous or charming, or both, but he was scared for you. You were too trusting for your own good, "He is not a baby. He's a monster."

"Don't talk about Stanley like that."

Luke rolled his eyes, falling into the same rhythm as your steps, "You don't realize how dangerous this is, Y/N."

"Here you go with the danger thing again," You teased, nudging him. Luke's breath got caught in his chest. Your simple touch seemed to burn his skin. Sparks erupted across his entire body. "Told you, I'll be fine."

"Not every monster you encounter can be defeated by the power of friendship. You can't rely on some kumbaya shit."

"Kumbaya?" You snorted, looking at him with an unreadable expression on your face. You scrunched your face up, a tiny smile tugging on your lips. "You're so...."

"I'm so what?" He questioned, planting his feet on the ground.

"Odd."

He tried not to take offense to that because while your words were like a dagger to his heart, the way you said it showed that you didn't mean it in a bad way. You seemed to be trying to figure him out, pressing his buttons, trying to see what made him tick. And you were succeeding. Luke never ventured to talk to new campers unless he was forced to by Chiron, but he couldn't fight the pull you had on him.

"Broody and odd," He said, resuming his steps, "I'm swooning."

The full belly laugh that escaped you made Luke's steps falter. Campers surrounding you looked at you, confused as to what Luke could've said that made you react that way. Surely, the Hermes Head Counselor wasn't that funny. He wasn't known to crack jokes, not since he returned. You couldn't help it, though. He said it in such a deadpan way that made your sides hurt from laughing so much.

"Just my type," You teased.

Luke didn't like how his cheeks were warming up at your comment. He's not one to flirt or be flirted with. He found girls attractive, sure, but most of them were too intimidated to talk to him so he never really had experience in that department. But he supposed since you grew up in the world, you were used to doing things like this. He wondered if you knew the effect you had on him.

"Dinner is supposed to be good tonight," He said, changing the subject. He was looking everywhere but you, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks that seemed to not want to subside.

"Oh, no you don't," You shook your head. "You are not gonna tempt me into going to dinner just so you can hide away in your tree. I'll be there, Castellan."

He grimaced. He was hoping that you'd fall for the trap, but he was learning quickly that you weren't as gullible as he hoped you'd be. Luke sighed, accepting defeat. "Fine, but can you just be careful? You've been lucky that there weren't any creatures lurking around."

"Why don't we just go together?" You asked, "So you can stop worrying about my safety and all."

"I'm not worried about your safety," He lied through his teeth. The idea wasn't bad though. It would keep him from wondering if you were attacked on your way to meet him. A shiver ran down his spine as he thought about it. He didn't like this weird protectiveness he had over you. He didn't even know you. "But fine. Meet me at the Hermes cabin after they ring for dinner."

"You got it," You saluted him playfully as you walked away, skipping to meet up with members of the Apollo cabin. How did you manage to make so many friends so quickly? And why did you insist on sticking with him when it's clear that you had other friends you could be bothering instead of him?

Luke tried not to think about it too much as he continued on with his day, but no matter how hard he tried, his mind kept pulling him back to you. During his lessons with other campers, he took mental notes of what moves he should teach you, just in case anything happened so you'd be prepared. During arts and crafts, he found himself reaching for the gold glitter because it reminded him of your eyes. This caused raised eyebrows from other campers since it was well-known that the counselor didn't like glitter post-Glitter Gate where he was shaking out glitter from his curls for days.

By the time dinner rolled around, he was thankful he stopped thinking about you, but soon realized that it was worse now that you were in front of him, all smiles and banter as you always were. It was getting harder to contain the redness of his cheeks as you complimented him in your own way.

"Lead the way, Castellan," You grinned.

Luke couldn't help but return your smile.

iii. Sixty-six days.

"Stanley, down," You instructed, leaning over to scratch the hellhound behind its ears. "Good boy."

Luke's sword was raised in a fighting stance as he watched you giggle as the hellhound nuzzled into your touch. You somehow managed to make him agree to meet the monster. Pathetically, it didn't take much for Luke to agree. It took you batting your eyelashes at him with a small pout and he reluctantly agreed to meet Stanley.

"Luke," You called him over, still petting the hellhound. "Come on, he won't do anything to you."

"I'm good right here," He grunted, holding onto his sword. "If he tries anything, one of us should be ready and you obviously have your guard down."

"He won't," You assured, "He's sweet."

"Nothing from the underworld is sweet, Y/N."

"You don't think I'm sweet?"

Luke rolled his eyes. You'd been claimed by your father, Hades, a few days ago. It made sense the more he thought about it. The hellhound wasn't sent to attack you, but to protect you. It was sent by your father to guide you to Camp Half Blood. "You're not technically from there."

"Same shit," You shrugged, patting the spot next to you on the grass for him to join you. "Come on, Luke. Come meet Stanley."

It was against everything he believed in. He shouldn't walk over to you to pet a monster like it was a stray dog on the side of the road, waiting to be rescued. But his feet seemed to have a mind of their own because before he knew it, he was walking over to you, sword tossed somewhere beside him to keep his hands free to touch the surprisingly soft fur of the hellhound.

The hellhound purred under Luke's touch, gentle and loving. If Luke ignored the scary color of its eyes, he would confidently say that it was just a dog. Luke's shoulders relaxed, "Okay, he's not half bad."

"Told you," You said, leaning against him. Luke's hands froze for a second, making the hellhound whine. He resumed his scratches, not wanting to take his chances and angering the dog. "See? Not all of us from the underworld are scary monsters."

"You're not from there," He repeated, "Stop saying that you are."

"Hades is my dad, Luke," You whispered. "So I am. I am a part of him."

"You're nothing like the gods."

There was something in his voice that made your heart pound in your chest. It was no secret that Luke's relationship with his father, and all of the gods for that matter, was strained. Luke saying that you were nothing like them with such sincerity made your head spin. It felt definite. It felt like a fact that he could never think of you as that.

"Could be nice though," You joked, trying to cover up the swell in your chest with humor. "Immortality and all."

"Nah, this one life is enough for me, I think."

"What? You're not shooting for rebirth?"

If anyone else would've asked him the same question a year ago, even a few weeks ago, he would've said no. If any of his other lives were like this one, he would decline the request if he could. All that he'd gone through in this lifetime was enough.

But now you were asking him that question with a twinkle of hope in your eyes that made him wonder if he'd judged this life too soon. Maybe there was more to life than fighting and running. Maybe the moments of life when he sits on a tree branch watching the sunset, or when he's yelling at his siblings to stop running in the cabin, or hell, even when he was petting a goddamn hellhound, were enough to make him wish for another shot at this life thing.

Maybe he just needed to learn a thing or two from you. If he could continue to know you in each lifetime, maybe he'll turn out fine.

"Maybe," Luke poked his tongue out the corner of his mouth. He blinked, "I don't know."

"Keep an open mind to it, is all I ask," You said. "I wanna find you in every universe just so I can annoy the shit out of you in each one."

He chuckled softly, not missing the smile that widened on your face as you watched him crack. "I changed my mind. No rebirth for me. I can only handle you in so many lifetimes."

"You'll grow to love me."

I know, Luke wanted to say, and that's the part that scares me the most. Throughout his years at Camp Half Blood, Luke prided himself in knowing that when push comes to shove, he can do what's necessary to succeed. It's what made him the perfect Head Counselor, the best swordsman that Camp Half Blood has seen in years. It's what made him a hero.

But now he didn't feel like that was the case anymore. He was growing soft, weak. He'd spent so much time trying to protect you and keep you from danger that he forgot about protecting himself. You found his Achilles heel and well, Luke was just waiting until he surrendered to you.

He opened his mouth to speak, "If Stanley doesn't kill me first."

If Luke could bottle up the sound of your laughter, he would.

iv. Three hundred and sixty-five days.

"Who is that?"

Luke followed Percy's eyes to the other side of the field. His lips turned up at the corners as he saw you waving at him with a smile on your face. Luke waved back with the same enthusiasm, confusing the boy beside him.

"That's Y/N," Luke responded, picking up his steps to meet you halfway. "That's my girlfriend."

"You have a girlfriend?"

"I know, shocker!" You teased, placing a kiss on Luke's cheek. Luke wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you closer, completely oblivious to the grimace that graced Percy's face. "Mr. Stick-in-the-mud head counselor has a girlfriend."

"Hey!"

Percy scrunched his face up, "You kinda are a stick-in-the-mud. No offense."

"Offense taken," Luke scoffed, poking your side. "Y/N, this is Percy. He's new here."

You stretched out a hand in greeting, "Nice to meet ya, Percy. Welcome to Camp Half Blood."

"Are you always this preppy?"

"She is," Luke said, shrugging. "Nice change of pace from the rest of us, don't you think?"

"Sure," He nodded, eyeing the both of you. Luke's arm didn't move from your waist and you didn't seem to mind. He was too young to understand why you and Luke didn't want to have any personal space. "Are you joining us on the tour that Luke is giving me of Camp Half Blood?"

"Wish I could, but the Stolls are planning to TP the Ares cabin as a prank and I should probably stop them before someone gets maimed at Capture the Flag tomorrow," You cringed.

Luke sighed, dropping his head to your shoulder. You tangled your fingers through his curls, trying to offer some comfort, "I told them not to do that."

"When have your siblings ever listened to you?"

"They used to before you came along!" Luke groaned, "But now they only listen to the pretty counselor."

"Must run in the family," You teased.

"Shut up," Luke grumbled, lifting his head up. Percy could see the blush on Luke's cheeks and he cringed. He hoped he'd never end up like this when he became a teenager. It was obvious you had Luke wrapped around your finger. "Go stop them before Lee gives us a lecture on the dangers of resorting to violence. Again."

"I'm going, I'm going," You laughed. You placed a quick kiss to Luke's lips before waving goodbye to the two boys. Before you were out of earshot, you turned around, "Tree later?"

"See you there!" Luke replied, grinning at you until you made it across the field. He turned to Percy, scratching the back of his neck, "Sorry about that. Where were we?"

"Archery."

"Ah, right! Archery," Luke nodded, continuing his steps, "It's down this way."

Percy followed Luke through the field, staring at the signs that pointed in different directions. Camp Half Blood was huge. This tour was definitely going to take longer than he anticipated. Not wanting to continue with a lull in the conversation, Percy spoke up, "How long have you and Y/N been together?"

Percy figured that Luke would have a lot to say about you which would fill the silence. He was right. Luke smiled at the boy, "A few months. She got here last year and it's been us two ever since. Took me a minute to ask her out, though."

"Well if you liked her, why did you wait? That doesn't make much sense."

"It was complicated," He replied, "I didn't really accept that I liked her until way later. Kinda kept my feelings to myself for a while."

"Is this what being a teenager is like?" Percy asked, cringing at Luke's words. He always imagined that falling in love with someone was easy. If two people liked each other, they should be together, right?

"Yeah," Luke laughed, patting Percy on the back. "Enjoy your early years, Perce. It gets worse from here."

"Geez, you really know how to inspire confidence in someone."

The laugh that escaped Luke reminded him too much of you. There were parts of you that weaseled their way into him. He didn't understand why you laughed so hard at his deadpan comments before, but now that he was on the receiving end of it with Percy, he saw why.

Percy reminded Luke a lot of himself, back when he was younger. It was a weird thing to meet a foil of yourself, someone who you could've been if things had been different. Luke wondered if he'd be like Percy if his life hadn't been so cruel. Not that Percy's life was all sunshine and rainbows, either. Luke heard through the grapevine that Percy lost his mom during the battle with the minotaur, but at least he had a mom that he knew. He had a mom that cared for him.

Luke was dreading the day Percy got claimed. Something told him that it would cause a ripple effect. Start things that Luke wasn't ready for, not yet. Maybe he'll never be ready for it. Had he known that he'd meet you, maybe he wouldn't have said yes to it. Maybe if you had stumbled into Camp Half Blood a day earlier, he wouldn't be facing this.

Luke faked a smile, shaking away those thoughts, "Come on, archery's just around the corner."

v. Three hundred and seventy-one days.

"Thought I'd find you here."

Luke closed his eyes at the familiar voice that joined him on the tree branch. The separate branch that you used to it on morphed into his own. Two branches intertwined, a simple work of nature, but it felt like a symbol. An omen.

The fireworks illuminated the night sky. Luke had never been up here this late before. The air was cold.

"What are you doing here?"

You let out a dry chuckle, "Dejavu for a second there."

"Y/N."

You gulped, slowly inching towards him. There was a crease between his eyebrows as he stared ahead. You sighed, "I came looking for you."

"Why?"

"Luke, don't do this."

He sniffed, rubbing his eyes with his balled-up fists. He winced as he put too much pressure on his cheek, his scar stinging at the contact. It's been more sensitive lately the more he spoke to Kronos. He shook his head, "I have to."

"No, you don't," You pleaded, placing a hand on his arm. "It's not too late."

"It is. Don't you understand?" He sobbed, "It's too late."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I didn't want to break your heart," He whispered. He felt silly saying it out loud, but it made sense to him at the time. He couldn't bare to see your face when he told you about everything. That's why he was going to leave without saying goodbye.

"How's that going for you?"

How you managed to make him laugh even during this, even during the end, was beyond Luke's understanding. He wished you didn't have an effect on him like this. It would make things so much easier.

"I'm sorry."

"For breaking my heart or for betraying all of us?"

Luke licked his lips, "Both."

You removed your hand from his arm. Luke shivered without your touch. "I'll see you again, yeah?"

"I don't know."

"I know," Tears pricked your eyes. Maybe it was the shock of it all, but you were calm. Too calm. It didn't feel real that just a few steps away, camp was in disarray because of the boy beside you. "Rebirth, remember? In every lifetime."

"Sure," He said. Maybe the hope of it all will be enough to get him through this. "I love you."

"I love you, too," You said, leaning over to place a last kiss on his lips. You pulled away as you felt your tears mixing with his, "Go, they'll come looking here soon."

Luke nodded and made his way down the tree. You watched him fade away in the distance.

#frances writes #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n

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thexianzhoujade · 28 days

Text

YOU'RE NOT HER | genshin impact fanfiction. zhongli x gn!reader — heavy angst, hanahaki disease, hurt/no comfort, mentions of blood & gagging (almost vomit), death, ‘unrequited’ love

idle chatter. this is a reupload from my old blog so if you want to argue that i'm stealing, i'm literally robbing myself <3 library waiting list. @lovingluxury @dumbificat @starryshinyskies @ryuryuryuyurboat @ainescribe @bfjax @soleillunne @sangoqueenkoko

aventurine's addition. "alexi, darling, don't forget to link 'you should have been her' for the readers. it is the infamous second part, after all."

oh that man, that gorgeous, benevolent man you’d fell in love with all those moons ago; with dark hair that fades into a glowing orange, resemblant of the sunset and his own geo vision. you had fell in love, yes - you thought he had too. the thought crosses your mind whenever he’s not by your side, not within your grasp like he usually is. typically, the man was serving his job at the wangsheng funeral parlour as a consultant.

you grimace when the tight feeling in your ribcage suffocates you. it’s getting stronger as time goes on, knocking the breath right out of your lungs and leaving you hacking up blood into a white handkerchief. zhongli had expressed no ends of concern about the situation when he’d find the bloodied handkerchiefs scattered around your shared home, ushering you to doctor baizhu as soon as possible.

you had begged baizhu not to utter a word of your condition to zhongli. he returned your pleads with a sorrowful look.

how could your love be so unrequited? had you been the only one true to your word this whole time? the mere thought stings at your eyes, tears threatening to spill as you shakily wash the dishes. zhongli isn’t home, not for a few more hours. he said he had business to attend to - that meant it wasn’t work related. was he cheating? you shake the sour thought away from your head, scowling.

you wonder if the oh-so-wise man could ever read the wrinkles appearing on your skin, aging you with every passing concern that you don’t voice aloud, with every day that goes by where you’re suffocating from the inside out. he never mentions it, perhaps he simply does not care. you feel the knot in your throat, sickening as you gag and splutter into the soapy water of the sink. you keep gagging, the knot doesn’t budge and you’re filled with an overwhelming sense of nausea.

your body grows tired. you slip down to your knees, banging elbows and other limp limbs against kitchen cabinets as you go down. finally, with one last cough, the knot exits your mouth. it falls to the wood floorboards beneath you, slimy and covered in blood but undoubtedly recognised as a glaze lily. its petals are shut, you understand that there is no music, no lullaby to be heard to lull the glaze lily to bloom. it’s an ancient flower, one you always used to admire before this curse laid upon you.

the front door to your house opens, keys jingling in a specific man’s gloved hands as he enters. you hurry to throw the glaze lily out of the kitchen window, submerging your hands in the sink once more as the metallic taste of blood and lingering aftermath of a floral tang swarms your mouth. you hold your breath, hoping you didn’t have the appearance of someone who had just coughed up a flower so violently.

a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, suddenly you’re hit with the faint smell of aged wine and familiar scent of freshly dug earth. you smile at the thought, leaning back into his chest despite the pain tearing at your lungs and the burning sensation left behind in your throat.

“you’ve been coughing again—” zhongli’s voice reverberates close to your ear, hot breath fanning over your skin and your eyes raise from the dirty water to your reflection in the kitchen window, where zhongli’s warm amber eyes are staring at you so deeply.

“it’s okay, my love, i promise,” you lie through your teeth, hoping the man sincerely couldn’t read through you the way he used to, “this time it was a smaller amount than the last…”

you try to sound cheerful in your approach to the topic, careful to maintain that personality he’d apparently fell in love with one day in liyue harbour. zhongli makes a noise - is he doubting you? you watch as a gloved hand raises, nearing your face before his thumb wipes gently at a trickle of blood leading from the corner of your lips.

“i’ll speak to doctor baizhu in the morning,” zhongli states firmly, you almost bite back the words that taste bitter about him ‘caring’ for you, “perhaps you need a higher dose of your medication.”

the medication in question surely had been a ruse to fool the man, though you did not expect it to have worked. changsheng had uttered that you could not leave the bubu pharmacy without some form of medication, it’d look absurd in the eyes of the wangsheng funeral parlour consultant. in agreement, baizhu had qiqi mix violetgrass powder with sugar - the instructions were simple, mix it into the hot tea you’d drink with zhongli every evening.

it was sweet, not at all bitter and the scent of violetgrass made it bearable. apparently the inclusion of herbal properties was enough to fool your dearest partner or so you thought.

—

it’s hard to understand the fine line between a lie and a truth when the past few months, you’d been dating a man for someone whomst he was not. it was a struggle to understand the situation but it kept you up for endless nights, counting stars and tending to the numerous flora you’d planted in the garden underneath the moonlight - courtesy of your friend the traveler for appearing with so many countless seeds of blooms from across teyvat.

yet as you sit on the grass, staring at the pile of dead - and dying - glaze lilies you had acquired, the stars twinkling endlessly above you, you understood why he’d done it. he was judicious, hoping to protect you from his past yet keep you as his future. the thought made that pain in your chest tighten. you let out a futile whimper into the quiet night.

as you ponder zhongli’s status as liyue’s archon - the geo archon of all people, you begin to question your previous doubts. your breaths become struggled, your chest heaving as you lay on your back for some relief. trembling fingertips brush amongst blades of grass, hoping for a distraction as tears spill down your cheeks.

liyue is a beautiful country with vast mountains and yellowed plains that seem to stretch endlessly. its civilisation had become fruitful at the expense of liyue harbor, bustling with trade and the thing your partner had appeared to love the most; contracts. he has every right to be proud of the nation liyue had built to this day, despite claiming that he’d ultimately retired - “the people can do without me, they’ve proved that much.”

blood trickles from your mouth but it’s not gentle, it’s a rush, like a waterfall as it spills down the sides of your face and pools on the grass below you. it’s littered in an array of blue and white petals, matching that of glaze lilies - a flower you’d grown to hate. you struggle to get oxygen into your lungs with the rising level of blood that doesn’t dissipate from your parted lips, suffocating you as you try to no ends to breathe through your nose.

that is, if there was room in your lungs for such oxygen. twists and turns of branches and roots that climb to the walls of your organs, painting them with glaze lilies and filling them with fallen petals every time a flower wilts from the unreasonable conditions inside your body.

you’re proud of liyue; the magnificent, beautiful nation of geo that you got to experience in all of its glory. zhongli often times referred to liyue with feminine pronouns and as the light dies from your eyes and your chest ceases to rise, you can only think one thing with your last dying breath.

you’re not her.

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

#alexi writes 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 #zhongli x reader #genshin zhongli #zhongli angst #genshin impact #genshin angst #genshin x reader

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satoruwiki · 3 months

Note

Could you write something with Todo sometime?

✦ ₊˚୭ DRESS UP FOR ME ❜ .⊹꒷₊

MINORS, AGELESS AND BLANK BLOGS DNI !!

content: nsfw; smut; porn w no plot; afab!reader; fem!reader; implied relationship; public sex; unprotected sex (oops); creampie

w.c: 1k

n/a: i had to look up todo’s age, i almost did not write abt him lol. got inspired by that one pic of amber heard cosplaying as a overwatch character bc apparently elon musk said she looked like her and then proceeded to have seggs w the cosplay on lmao. english isn’t my first language and im still a rookie at writing so bear with me please! any feedback/request/interaction supporting this post is very much appreciated :b

You stared at yourself through your phone camera, fixing minimum details on your hair and makeup, making sure you looked perfect and snapped some pictures of your outfit, happy with the result.

“How do I look?” You asked, doing a little spin to show your whole outfit, turning around to look at your boyfriend, who stood on the door frame, leaning his weight against it. “I think I did a pretty good job, especially with the makeup; what do you think?” You fidgeted with your fingers in anticipation, hoping for his approval. After all, the biggest Takada fan here was him.

Todo was speechless. The fact that you took your time to cosplay his favourite idol had his heart rattling in his chest and his cock half-hard by how good you looked right now.

"You look great, breathtaking even," Words faltered to describe what you were making him feel right now, his mind already flooding with thoughts of what he'd do to you if he had the time right now.

You giggled, standing on tiptoe to give him a short kiss. "Thank you, baby. Let's go to that meet and greet before we're late."

"Fuck- Baby, I’m sorry. I know I said I'd wait till we got home but- " Todo groaned, groping the fat of your ass as he pumped in and out of you languidly. He wasn't actually sorry, but he hoped you could forgive him for putting you in a compromising situation like this, at a convention of all places. “I can’t keep my hands off you when you look like this, so cute f'me,” He sighed, his eyes fixed on his girth thrusting in and out and stretching your tight cunt.

You covered your mouth to silence your moans, the adrenaline rushing through your veins as Todo fucked you in the bathroom stall. Your heart pounded in your ears, you weren't sure if it was the fear of being caught in the act that made you feel more sensitive than usual, but every stroke of his cock in your insides had you on the edge. His touch burned under your skin, the air thick with your gasps and his.

"Todo, let's go home," you sobbed between quiet moans; it was becoming more difficult to quiet your sounds as his shaft kept rutting into you and you got closer to your peak, your legs quivering as the band of coiling pleasure was about to snap.

He bent over to whisper in your ear, his cologne filling your nostrils. He always smelled so good that it made you moan. "And have other men come to you and ask for pictures?" Todo clicked his teeth disapprovingly, "Nah, we're not leaving without me marking you. Let them know that Takada's cute cosplayer has a man who has her crazy for his cock," He hissed, pressing his lips on the side of your neck. You winced, feeling his mouth nibble and suck at your skin, bruising it.

So that's why Todo was so adamant about dragging you into the washroom stall and fuck you right here right now. His jealousy had gotten the better of him when he noticed other men - losers, in his words- looking at you with the same eyes he did.

"Besides, you're close, aren't you? I can feel this pretty pussy throbbing and squeezing me so good," Todo panted, his cock twitching inside you as his broad hand slipped underneath your top, pushing your bra upside to fondle your breast, playing with your hardened nipple, your whole body shuddering underneath him.

You let out a breathy sigh, borderline a whine, your pretty face contorting into a scowl, nipping at your lip to stifle your moans. You'd never get used to the girth of his cock and how full it made you feel, nor its length, feeling its thrusts kissing your cervix so deliciously up to your throat, having your breath hitching and ragged and your mind clouded.

"Todo, harder, please," you begged, turning to look at him through your glassy eyes, meeting his thrusts striking your ass against his hips.

"Are you sure, baby, you want the whole world to hear how slutty you can be when I pound your pussy?" You nodded, a pout forming on your lips, needy whines escaping you.

Todo straightened his posture, his hand sliding back to your hips, his grip firm on them; something about you cosplaying his favourite idol and being so into getting fucked in public had his cock throbbing and him going feral. "You little minx, you're gonna get us in trouble," Todo grunted lowly, a lascive grin tugging the corner of his lips, "But I can't say no to you when you look so fucking hot like this."

He picked up his pace, his hips slamming against your ass, the sounds of squelching and smacking flesh loud enough to be heard outside the washroom. "Just stay as quiet as you can, okay, doll?" Todo grunted, babbling about how tight your soppy pussy felt once he went rougher with you, pressing his hand on your belly to feel his dick massaging your walls.

You arched your back, his cock going deeper inside you, pounding that spot that had you seeing stars and drooling.

Your walls spasmed and contracted, moaning his name. Todo's thrusts became sloppy, slow but rough. "Holy fuuuckk- always so fuckin' good, you always know how to take my cock," his breath shattered, emptying himself inside you in one final powerful thrust. You whimpered, his warm load gushing out of you and littering the floor beneath you.

"Shit, such a mess you made, babe," he said, caressing the side of your ass cheek before pulling out, tucking himself back in his slacks and putting your underwear back in place - he still wanted you to keep some of his cum inside you till you got back home so he could keep fucking you good.

"You alright? I didn't mess too much of your makeup, did I?"

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starrycassi · 9 months

Text

Ballister's been through this many times. Ambrosius comes into his room, hysterical, to announce him of some ridiculous upper crust rule or ball or challenge that he's got to participate in. He knows the drill by now; listen to him, reassure him and help him get ready, be it brushing his hair or co-writing a speech for him to give.

The Goldenloin family puts up an act for people to show off Ambrosius and his many qualities every so often. He doesn't really care, not anymore. He used to panic alongside Ambrosius, when they were thirteen. He's seventeen, now, and the novelty of it has worn off — it's just kind of funny, really, to see his boyfriend suffer through hours and hours of whatever bullshit he's supposed to do now.

This upcoming event, however, is doing a number on Ambrosius's nerves. He's pacing back and forth the room, and he hasn't even looked at Ballister yet. His tic — the one in his left eye, is back, and his lips are red and swollen in the places where he's been bitting them. It's barely five am, and Ballister knows that this is going to be a long day.

"You're going to get nauseous if you keep spinning around, Amber" he tries to start the conversation, voice soft and words slow. Between them, Ambrosius has always been the worst when it comes to keeping his emotions under control. Ballister's learnt, by now, that sometimes it's just better to give him space.

"I'm nauseous already. Some spinning won't hurt, I'm sure" he snaps back, almost screaming. Ballister decides that talking to him won't be possible right now, and goes back to the project on his table, making sure to hold the screwdriver at the right angle.

After fifteen minutes or so, Ambrosius finally stops. He whines, letting his body weight drag him down on Ballister's mattress.

"What is it, this time?"

Ambrosius's silent, only whining a bit more after the question, like a wounded dog. That's new. He usually loves to go on rants about how everything is going to go wrong and how the whole world hates him in secret. Ballister puts down the tools, quickly scribbles down what he's supposed to do next to avoid future mistakes, and sits down next to his boyfriend, threading a hand through the other teen's hair.

They stay like that some minutes, Ballister working his way through the blond strands and Ambrosius simply lying there. Ballister's starting to think that he's fallen asleep, when Ambrosius finally speaks up, face still buried in pillows.

"They're marrying me off, Bal"

The world stops spinning.

Ballister goes static. His whole body freezes, and his heart stops beating. He can feel the blood on his veins going cold, so cold his bones feel stuck, too.

This was a expected situation, kind of. Captain Gloria, Ambrosius's mom, had been married off, too. She didn't like her husband in the slightest and they never talked to each other. Ambrosius told him all that.

She had also promised to keep her son away from that predicament. But Ballister knew better than to trust mothers. His own had abandoned him some years ago, after all.

"What... How? What?"

Ambrosius sits up, criss cross, hugging a pillow. He's such a kid. His eyes are already watery, and he's got a red nose, probably from slamming his face into the pillows.

"Not- well, not actually marrying me off. Mum doesn't want that, y'know" He shrugs, looking at his own hands. "But she can't really... just go against tradition, I guess. So, uh, there's going to be a tournament, figths, you know? And I know I'll probably win, she chose combat because she knows I'm good at it, but what if I don't win?"

He takes a deep breath, grunting. Ballister's brain is struggling to catch up, so he can't do much more than nod, encouraging his boyfriend to keep talking.

"It's not going to be like here, only us, cadets and students, where I know I will undoubtedly win. Actual grown ups could get in there, Ballister. My mom's been screaming to anyone and everyone about how ridiculous everything is, but- I guess rules are rules. I haven't slept. We stayed up all night on the phone, she tore down the whole family's library, called all of our lawyers, we tried every single article and law ever written. Nothing. The best we can do is... hope"

"The Captain's right. This is ridiculous, Ambrosius. What do you mean grown ups? Why? That's fucking creepy. Can't you guys just... say no? You're a Goldenloin, surely you-"

Ambrosius grunts, again, tugging at one of his hair strands.

"It's not that easy!" He screams, shutting Ballister up. "I've been getting proposals for... for forever! It's not really a matter of love as it is a matter of money, Bal. I've been getting proposals even from before I was actually born. Political alliances and all that. Mom's been doing her best, I know she has, but when a heir has said "no" enough times, then a duel or something can be called up, and an actual tournament would be way easier than just fighting every single idiot that wants to get my last name!"

Ballister's never been happier to be an orphan commoner than right now. His only worry when it comes to marriage is whether or not he can afford a pretty ring.

It's not like commoners don't marry for money. Arranged marriages were a pretty common thing around him, young kids marrying older people to try and get their families ahead, forced by their parents, their "spouses" or their economical situations. He just... never really had to worry about it, ever since he became a knight.

"That's incredibly fucked up, Ambrosius"

"I know ! I am well aware of how weird this must be for you, Bal. And I have absolutely no backup plan. My mom's confident that I'm winning, because Goldenloins never lose, but I'm not her! She can still beat me when we spar together, what am I going to do if someone else wins? Just... get married?"

Trying to come up with a solution, Ballister stutters and stammers his way through a sentence.

"You could, uh, get married and have a divorce, right?"

"No! Totally no! You don't get it! Whoever wins gets to ask whatever they want from my family, money, land, my hand- whatever, and then that's irrevocable!"

Stressed out, Ballister screechs. Of course he doesn't get it. No one ever bothered to explain this to him. He knew that parents could force their kids to marry (Captain Gloria once told him the story, very drunk and very mad at her departed dad) but not that a whole fucking event could be staged even if the family said no.

"It's not my fault I don't get it, you twat! Do you think the knigth training automatically gave me political marriage bullshit training, too? Well, no, it didn't! I'm so sorry for not knowing you weird ass nobility traditions, Ambrosius, I didn't realize I was supposed to!"

Getting up from the bed, mad at the world for being unfair and at himself for snapping, he runs his hands through his hair, with the impulse to simply rip it all off. It quickly gets replaced by guilt. Ambrosius has done nothing wrong, and here he is, being an asshole instead of helping.

"Amber... Shit, I'm sorry. This is just-"

Chuckling humorlessly, Ambrosius waves his hand in the air. He looks up at Ballister, and shakes his head.

"You're right. Sorry. I just forgot. I always do"

They already went through this, too. Ambrosius is good at keeping Ballister up to date, always happy to explain the situation, but sometimes things just... slip his mind. It isn't anyone's fault, but it's still annoying when it happens.

"Sorry, too. For calling you a twat"

Ballister leans down, tentatively. Ambrosius doesn't hesitate to lift himself up, and they share a quick kiss. All is forgiven.

"So... what now?"

Silently, they both try their best to think. Ballister's mind is blank, just screaming at him to get a sword and go decapitate however wrote the fuckin rules. He ignores that voice, per usual. The fucker's probably dead, by now, anyway.

Ambrosius is the one who gasps, and smiles all of the sudden, so bright that the sun should be jealous. He bounces on the bed a couple of times, clapping to get his boyfriend's attention.

"We're both idiots!"

Ballister frowns, confused. An awkward smile is all he can offer Ambrosius, wondering if his man finally went crazy.

"I see no correlation between our supposed idiocy and the problem at hand, Amber."

"Come on, Bal! This is easy. I have the best plan" he giggles, like a kid that just got a new toy. Ballister can tell that this plan probably will suck and get them in more danger than necessary. And he's so on board. Always on board, when it comes to Ambrosius.

"Which is?"

"You!" Exclaims Ambrosius, rolling his eyes. "You're my plan"

"Excuse me?"

"You're going to compete and win, Bal"

Perhaps he never should've become a knight, that way he never would've fallen in love with this absolute trainwreck of a man. Is it too late to go back to being a random kid and forget about all this? Probably.

#goldenheart #nimona movie #ballister nimona #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister boldheart #nimona (2023)#ambrosius nimona #ambrosius x ballister #nimona #ballister blackheart #i should be doing homework #forced marriaged but he's trying to save his boyfriend from it #tournament au

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benkeibear · 1 year

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⋆꙳✧༄ Baby said

❖ Character: Bachira

❖ Reader: genderneutral | AFAB

❖ Wordcount: 0.9k

❖ Summary: Bachira has too much energy and keeps talking so you decide to shut him up by letting him eat you out

❖ WARNINGS: no dynamics, oral (reader receiving), fingering

❖ A/n: New fandom... hope I did him justice:))

𝑩𝒂𝒃𝒚 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑰 𝒈𝒐 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅, 𝒔𝒉𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒉, 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅

Your head was pounding especially bad this day and you were counting down the minutes until you could leave your work, just wanting to head home to cuddle up in bed. When the time finally came you made your way home as quick as possible, a small smile appeared on your lips when your boyfriend was already home so he would cuddle up with you in bed.

And you were right, he wanted to cuddle but he had so much to tell you as well. “And then- then he really said that! Can you believe it?” he asked excitedly and laughed along, telling you about what happened after the match on the weekend - a match you attended and a story you've heard at least a hundred times these past few days and normally you wouldn't mind but today your head threatened to explode if he said one more word.

“Babe- Baby… MEGURU BACHIRA” Your voice boomed through the room, laced with desperation and much louder than intended. Bachira now sat up, previously having laid on his back, limbs stretched out across the bed and your body “Am i in trouble?” He asked softly, his expression similar to a hurt puppy, hating it when you used his whole name in a situation like this. “N-No- i didn't mean to scream, but you talk nonstop, not even giving me a chance to tell you that my head is killing me” you explained serious as you let your eyes close. The man next to you just hummed in acknowledgement, a pout resting on his face when he looked over to you - He just had way too much energy to be laying around in silence but really wanted to respect you.

The way his amber colored eyes burnt holes into your body didn't go unnoticed by you, despite your eyes being shut tight so you let go of a long sigh. “How about you do the talking between my legs, hm?” you asked and a small smirk started to form on your lips when you felt him shift before taking his place between your legs, wasting no time to get rid of your pajama pants along with your panties.

When he spread your folds all you could hear was a chuckle “Look how wet you already are for me. Does my voice turn you on so much?” He asked with a shit eating grin to which you only groaned and pulled him towards your core by the hair “Just shut up” you mumbled quite flustered and for once Bachira decided to listen. The next thing you could feel was his warm tongue dragging through your folds completely, licking a long stripe from your entrance all the way to your clit and back down. “You're reacting so well to m-” he was praising you but caught off guard by your hips bucking into his face, making him chuckle against your cunt before sucking on your sensitive clit which earned him a satisfied moan. “Less talking, more licking. Understood” he teased you and let his tongue dance through your folds once more with a zigzag motion. When the tip of his tongue reached your entrance he pushed it in to get a good taste of your juices. A loud moan escaped your lips when he continued to fuck you with his skilled tongue, his calloused thumb starting to rub small circles onto your clit to give you the most pleasure. The lewd slurping noises coming from Bachira almost drowned out your own moans as you neared your high - and who would Bachira be to deny you your much needed release? Without missing a beat he pulled back slightly just to spit right onto your clit, making his thumb glide smoothly over the bundle of nerves while his tongue returned to its previous place, thrusting into your tight cunt.

Your hands were harshly pulling on his hair as his name fell off your lips like a prayer when the knot in your lower abdomen finally snapped and the slurping noises of Bachira turned into whimpers and soft moans when he got to taste your release. Without giving you any time to recover, his tongue trailed up to your clit, giving it more attention. He was busy flicking your sensitive bundle of nerves around and gently sucking on it that he almost neglected your poor cunt, stuffing it with two of his fingers the second your moans grew in pitch again and like the menace that he is, he started to curl his fingers right into your sweet spot without mercy - throwing you into yet another orgasm.

His goal was clear now, tire himself out on your poor core until you felt better and he was tired, whatever would come first. The pace he set was relentless, unbothered by the way you screamed and cried his name in pleasure this time, his tongue and fingers kept working their magic. Three… four… five… you lost your count after the sixth orgasm, any touch borderline painful now and also the man between your legs seemed to grow tired, his licks slowing down and only once you pushed him away, far too overstimulated, he admitted to being tired. Bachiras head was resting against one of your thighs as his eyes fell shut, slipping away into a sweet slumber along with you - the puddle of cum in his underwear long forgotten and an issue for after this nap.

𝑩𝒂𝒃𝒚 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒆𝒈𝒔

Network: @tokyometronetwork

#Bluelock x reader #bluelock smut #bachira x reader #bachira smut #bllk x reader #bllk smut #bluelock bachira #meguru bachira #meguru bachira x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut

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bsdawgz · 21 days

Text

「 ✦ I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship… ✦ 」 Bungo Stray Dogs, Port Mafia: Michizō Tachihara

a/n: tachihara smut as promised (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ part2 of THIS post!

~if you read a lot of my work, you know that i usually dance around words like pussy but i actually use it in this one cuz my headcanon is that tachihara is a dirty, hard n fast type lover ahhh ><

genre: nasty

content: f!reader. MDNI! cunnilingus, rough sex, brief drug (marijuana) reference at the end. tachihara has a big dick. ♡

summary: looks like it's gonna be hard to stay "just friends" after this...

"Oy, what the hell–?"

Tachihara is just about to fight you when you yank the blankets off his half-naked body, but once his vision focuses on you and he realizes he's not in any danger, he relaxes back into the bed. "Fucking shit, it's just you," he mutters, rubbing his eyes.

It's nearly 10PM when you impulsively decide to barge into his apartment and confront him after a week of no contact after the incident. But much to your annoyance, you find Tachihara still fast asleep in his bed, lying face-down with a pillow over his head.

"Just me?"

You scoff at his words, climbing into his bed and beating him over the head with his pillow. His face turns bright red as you situate yourself beside him, and he instinctively pulls the covers over his boxers, shifting uncomfortably as you move closer to him.

"Where the fuck have you been this whole time?" you press, clearly pissed off. You spent this whole week worrying about how your friendship might have been affected by what happened between you – after you and Tachihara went from smoking a joint and laughing to full-on making out and groping each other on your couch – but it doesn't look like Tachihara had thought about it at all.

You sigh, relenting.

"Look, Michi. Let's just move past it already," you decide to say after the silence between you two has gone on for too long to be comfortable. "You regret it, right? Let's just forget about it, then."

This time, it's Tachihara who sighs, rolling his eyes at you. "Listen," he says, tossing the pillow back at you. "I've just been busy," he insists. You only knew about his affiliation with Port. Explaining that he was infiltrating the mafia as a member of the Hunting Dogs was too complicated and would only endanger you.

"Besides," he starts, leaning back into his bed with a smug smirk. "Who said I regret anything?"

You're bunching up your fists at him for making excuses, then it hits you – the implication of what he's just laid out so plainly. He said it so off-handedly that it takes you a while to process, but once you realize exactly what he means, a faint blush creeps on your face.

When he's certain you understand him, he leans in closer... closer... – and the situation feels all too familiar.

"Look," he murmurs, then the back of his fingers are brushing gently against your cheek. You can see your reflection in his amber eyes as they flicker to your lips, and as you watch him, you can faintly remember the feeling of his kiss from a few nights before... How it felt to taste him in your mouth. "I just didn't wanna fuck up our friendship..." His voice is a low whisper, but there's a glowing fire in his eyes.

"Do you...?"

You didn't think it would come to this again, but here you are. You swear you can hear your heart beating in your chest as you stare into his eyes –

If you kiss now, there's nothing and no one to blame but yourselves...

But the answer is all too clear by the way your face flushes and the way your hands tremble as you wrap your arms around his neck. Who closes the gap, you don't know. You feel him cup your cheek in his palm, then his lips are pressing against yours. Those same soft, sweet lips that you can't get enough of...

He gets on top of you, laying you down on the mattress. It's that same springy mattress that you've played videogames on, taken naps together on, and shared joints on, never with any sexual implication. Now, though, he's pulling his shirt over his head, tossing it recklessly on the floor. "I'm not gonna stop this time," he says bluntly, and the straightforwardness with which he says it makes you feel embarrassed. "Unless you really want me to."

You've never seen Tachihara like this. He's your best friend, for God's sake. You've always been the demanding one in your friendship, bossing him around, and he's always followed you around and put up with your antics. Pinned beneath him like this, the roles are completely reversed. You wonder if Tachihara has always been this way, if this is how he normally is in bed. Is this what he's like with girls? Does he usually get on top of them like this and boss them around? Your face turns bright pink at the thought.

"I don't want you to stop this time," you tell him, trying to match his boldness as you undress yourself for him. He grins toothily at your response, pulling you in for another kiss by your chin. This time around, he’s rougher with his hands, gripping your hips and dragging you by your waist to the edge of the bed, where you're on your hands and knees for him.

His calloused hands squeeze your ass, fingertips digging into the fat. Then, he eases your legs apart, pressing chaste kisses up your inner thigh until he's kissing the soft spot, that place you want him most. You feel his fingers peeling your panties down your legs until you're bare for him, and you gasp as you feel the cold air hit you.

He drags his fingers along your slick, spreading your folds open, exposing you... and you can just sense him smirking behind you at your every reaction.

– You're wet for him. For him, Tachihara. Michizō. Michi. Your best friend. And it feels so damn good to him, knowing he's the one making you this horny.

Then, he leans in, tasting your sweetness on his eager lips. You writhe under the softness of his tongue as he teases you, as he collects your arousal on the tip, as he swirls his tongue around your sensitive spot. "Michi..." you stutter out, followed by a broken, "Fuck, Michi, oh God –..." as he eats you from the back like he's a starved man, pulling you flush against his mouth and moaning against your pussy, lapping up all you have to offer like a dog.

"Turn around and come here," he tells you suddenly, and you do as he says, watching as he gets up and strokes himself at the sight of your nakedness, at your glistening folds that are wet with his spit and your slick. When he's fully hard, he shuffles through his drawers for a condom, then wraps your legs tight around him from the edge of the bed.

He's barely eased the blunt head past your folds when you wince at his size. He's big, just as you imagined, but still bigger than you expected. You bite back a whimper as you take him inch by inch, his girth stretching you out so painfully well. Grabbing onto his forearm, you rake your nails against his flesh, your liquid eyes staring up at him in concern as your pussy squeezes around him erratically. "Michi, nnh – it's big..." you stammer out, struggling to adjust to him.

"Yeah?" he pants out, swiping his tongue over his lips seductively. He’s cocky from your words, half a grin on his face. His voice is strained from how tightly you're gripping him. You feel his hands smooth down your sides, making your body tingle from his hot touch, then he reaches down to caress your trembling lips with the underside of his thumb, stroking your cheekbone reassuring with his fingers. "You can take it," he whispers heatedly, "Take a deep breath for me." You nod up at him willingly, then do as he says. Then, you feel him finally bottom out on your exhale with a shaky sigh.

His strokes are slow and shallow at first. He gazes down at you with amber eyes that are hazy with lust, and he bats his lashes at you as he watches you watch him fuck you nice and slow... and his hands are everywhere – they wander down your body, making you shiver as he grasps your waist, as they travel down the sides of your hips, as they curve over your breasts. You arch your back as he rolls your hips toward him, chasing after the feeling of him. Then, you feel him get rougher.

You feel him pull the entirety of himself out of your warmed-up body, then cram himself back into your pulsing walls with a muffled groan, and you clench around him as he does it again and again, the sound of your skin against his filling the air as his pace quickens, as he shoves his hips against yours more recklessly.

Then, his fingers dig into you bruisingly as he grabs you fast and hard. You moan out for him shamelessly, burying your face into the crux of your elbow. He grins in satisfaction from the way your lips form the syllables of his name, then you feel his fingers wrap delicately around your neck before he tosses your leg over his shoulder. "Don't hide," he pants out, and he tips your chin up to peer into your desperate eyes, so that you're staring into his darkened gaze and that wicked smirk on his face.

– “I wanna see your face while I fuck you."

And you gasp at how greedy he is. So, so greedy, getting high on the feeling of you taking him so well, now that you're soaking wet for him. You glance down to where he's buried deep inside you, where he's making such a mess of you. You can see everything from this angle – how easily he's sliding in and out of you, how you're falling apart on him. How you’re swallowing him up so perfectly.

"God, you feel fucking good," he groans, throwing his head back in pleasure.

– Fucking your best friend like this, feels so fucking good.

You feel his thumb on your clit... His other hand reaching for your breast as he thrusts into you ruthlessly... as he fills your vision, as your body gives into him completely... and as you feel yourself approaching your high, as you unravel beneath him, as you cry out for more and beg for him to fuck you harder and harder, and you're thinking to yourself –

This is so wrong, right? Wrong, wrong, wrong. You shouldn't be doing this with your best friend, right?

But it's so good. So, so good – it makes you wonder why you hadn't done it sooner.

It makes you wanna do it again and again.

When all's done, you're on his bed, lighting another joint, passing it back and forth like it's nothing. It feels almost normal, hanging out like this. But not quite.

He rests his head on your lap, staring up at the ceiling as he blows a puff of smoke in the air. You run your fingers through his soft hair, reveling in the afterglow of your orgasm. Then, one of you breaks the silence.

"So, we're still best friends, right?"

author ps: there may be another part. we'll see.

taglist: @shxlxnn @possiblydeceased @vyeisamazing @pe4rl-diver thank u thank u thank u for supporting me and my fics <3 ily and i appreciate every single one of u

#BSDAWGZ #bsd #bsd smut #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #tachihara smut #tachihara x reader #bsd tachihara

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starriluvs · 1 year

Text

Hate me not ———————

Ao’nung x Reader Prompt: Oblivious Ao’nung who has a soft spot and a subtle reader, need i say more. A/N: Sorry this one’s short, been having writer’s block</3 ————————

Since arriving in the Met’Kayina clan, you had felt nothing but exhaustion, physically and mentally.

Between learning new customs and ways, and having to deal with the headache that was Ao’nung, you found that you desired nothing more than sleep.

You found temporary solace in the water, floating amongst the ocean with your arms stretched out.

‘Come on Ao’nung, can’t we take a short break?’ You called out drearily to the boy. Though you didn’t see, he rolled his eyes in response.

He had been misfortunate enough to be assigned the task of personally teaching you.

For reasons unbeknownst to him, you were his least favourite of the Sully siblings. He had tried to tease you constantly- more so than he had to the rest of your family. Yet, you’d never given him face.

Once, he’d called both you and your sister freaks. You’d simply thanked him with a smile for seeing them as unique, before proceeding to show off your forest-suited features. He’d only deadpanned at you before stomping off as he grumbled.

Another time, Ao’nung had called you an ugly four fingered freak in-front of your friends. Tsireya had jumped to defend you, but you’d waved her off with a relaxed grin.

You were delighted to mention how he had been lying- courtesy of the violet tinge on his ears when he’d spoken of you. You’d shot him a smug smirk as you caught him blue-handed. He’d huffed before muttering a ‘whatever’ to himself.

In conclusion, nothing he did roused you in the slightest. He’d always chased for opportunities to see you, so he could take the chance to rile you up.

You never took offence to what he said, always deflecting quickly to flip the situation around. It was irritating.

As was your whole being.

Your slim frame that had caused you trouble in the water at first, and so he’d had to guide you by force, with a hand wrapped firmly around your arm.

Your amber eyes that always shone with vivid emotion. Ao’nung had always found it hard to fully meet your gaze.

Your voice that was so full of life. It was grating to hear your voice, especially when he felt his heartbeat quicken at the sound of it.

The boy didn’t know what was so special about you. Why his body reacted the way it did when he was around you.

——-

Shaking his head, he brought himself back to the present. The boy watched as you mindlessly floated amongst the waves, looking as though you didn’t have a care in the world. You looked so relaxed, at peace even.

He was about to tell you to continue your ilu riding, but at the relaxed expression on your face, the boy felt a slight twinge in his heart. As though he were the bad guy, when you rightfully should be practicing.

He mentally cursed his body for feeling such weakness- because of you, at that.

Ao’nung sighed drearily, running a dampened palm across his face. ‘Fine.’ He called out, voice grating against his throat at the hesitation.

He didn’t know why he let you continue floating like an idiot. He only knew that if he didn’t, his heart would’ve felt burdened at disturbing you.

You responded to his sentiment with a small, closed-eye smile. ‘Thanks, Nung.’

Ao’nungs heart lurched at the nickname. He really didn’t understand you.

A serene silence washed over the two of you. You continued your mission to stay afloat, as Ao’nung sat mildly annoyed on your ilu.

The boy stared at your form, wondering how you could benefit from looking so ridiculous.

‘You do realise that you look like an absolute idiot right now. What are you even doing anyway?’ The boy inquired, eyes narrowed in annoyed confusion.

‘I’m relaxing.’ You spoke with a satisfied sigh. ‘After the hectic nature of the past few weeks, I’ve been meaning to destress myself.’

‘You should try it too, y’know? Considering how grumpy you are all the time, it’d do you some good to just relax.’ Your voice called out clear to him.

The boy scowled in response. ‘I don’t want to look like an idiot, you skxawng.’

‘Come on, Ao’nung. Please?’ You dragged out the word to try and convince him.

Ao’nung stared at you for a moment longer than necessary, contemplating life choices.

Eventually, he gave in. He didn’t exactly have much to do anyway.

The sounds of splashing could be heard as Ao’nung swam his way through the water to you. A loud sigh released as he began to float.

‘See, it’s not so bad, is it?’ You coaxed. The boy only let a muffled grumble to let you know he was listening.

Opening your eyes, you swam slightly closer to him. You began to splash your hand in the water slightly as you spoke. ‘Here, Nung. Hold my hand so you can feel my heartbeat.’ You offered, hoping to reciprocate the skills you’d learned from him.

He stared hesitantly, wondering whether you were joking.

‘If you feel my relaxed heartbeat, maybe you’ll be able to do the same.’

Once more, the boy gave in, hesitantly taking hold of your wrist. He felt as though he physically could not say no to you. Curse you for making him feel obliged to go along with your strange ideas.

‘Now, just breathe in, and then breathe out. Let go of your worries, and watch as you start to feel lighter.’ You advised gently, smiling at the soft grip the boy held on your wrist.

Opening your eyes once more, you turned your head to watch as he did what was instructed. Surprisingly so without complaints.

You sank back into the water, embracing the ocean in silence. The two of you stayed in that position for a few moments, overlapping of the waves filling in the silence.

Just as you were appreciating the moment however, Ao’nung unsurprisingly had to ruin the moment.

‘I hate you, you know.’

And you both knew no greater lie could be told.

‘If you did, you wouldn’t be holding my hand now, would you?’

#avatar wow #avatar #avatar x reader #avatar wow fic #avatar fic #aonung #aonung x reader #aonung x you #aonung imagine #aonung fic #aonung scenario #ao’nung #ao’nung x reader #ao’nung x y/n #ao’nung x you #ao’nung fluff #ao’nung imagine

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thatsonemorbidcorvid · 5 months

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A few weeks after #MeToo exploded on the internet, an old friend and I did what so many women did during that time: We got on the phone and finally began to acknowledge what had happened to us. My friend shared a story of hers from college. Back then, we’d all just considered it a “bad date,” but she now recognized it as sexual assault. She also shared that at nearly every single job she’s had since college, a boss or co-worker has sexually harassed her.

The month before our conversation, I had published an essay sharing my own experience of sexual assault while traveling abroad. Like my friend, it was not my only experience—it was one of many. But I’d only included the one, because in the early stages of #MeToo, the idea of sharing one assault story still felt risky. The idea of sharing more than one felt culturally impossible. My friend agreed.

“As a woman, you’re only allowed one #MeToo moment,” she told me. “After that, people begin assuming the problem must be you.”

Out of the many celebrity #MeToo stories told in the past five years, only a handful have acknowledged the experience of multiple assaults. In an HBO documentary, Alanis Morisette spoke about repeated incidents of statuatory rape that happened when she first entered the music industry, all of which “fell on deaf ears” when she tried seeking accountability. In her memoir, Selma Blair wrote about a teacher who sexually assaulted her, as well as the many men who raped her in her 20s. In an interview with Dazed, Amber Rose said, “I cannot even count how many times a famous guy touched me inappropriately.” On a social media post during the Kavanaugh hearings, Tatum O’Neal wrote about her multiple assaults: “It was not my fault when I was 5, 6, 12, 13, 15.”

Stories that emphasize the ubiquitous nature of assault are vital in a world that so often focuses on one dramatic episode, with visceral details of the violation and an easily identifiable villain. This amplifies the false idea that assault is just a singular, horrifying incident—when in reality, many of us experience it as part of a larger, more insidious culture.

Once a person is assaulted, research shows they’re more likely to be assaulted again, a phenomenon called “revictimization.” Around 50 percent of children who survive sexual assault reexperience it later in life, and even a single incident of sexual assault in adulthood can increase the risk for it to happen again. As psychologist A.E. Jaffe and her colleagues wrote in a 2019 paper on revictimization: “Perhaps the most consistent predictor of future trauma exposure is a history of prior trauma exposure.”

Why would this be? In lieu of a good answer for it (more on that in a moment), we often blame victims themselves. We easily justify these statistics by suggesting that anyone who has survived multiple incidents of violence must be asking for it—either by acting promiscuously, hanging around too many shady men, or getting themselves into precarious situations. One survivor I interviewed told me that though she received some form of victim-blaming in response to all three sexual assaults she experienced, she noticed a stark decrease in support each time it happened again.

“After the second and third, some people began saying, ‘What’s happening in your life to attract that?’ or ‘Do you have enough awareness to know when men want to harm you?’ ” she told me. “One person even asked why I was ‘trusting men so much.’ ” Another friend who experienced multiple assaults went through a similar line of questioning, only with herself. “After so many times, I began asking myself, ‘What is it about me that brings on these experiences?’ ” she said. I told her I ask myself that question all the time.

In his essay “Spectator” for Roxane Gay’s anthology on sexual assault stories, Not That Bad, Brandon Taylor wrote about his best friend telling him she was beginning to think she was “just the kind of person this stuff happens to.” For a long time, that’s what I believed, too. As a travel writer and a single bisexual woman, I figured that at some point, I’d pay the price. Eventually, I’d have to face some element of physical harm—wasn’t that the obvious trade-off for attempting a liberated life? To me, survivorship—more than resilience, bravery, or strength—often felt like resignation.

But in some cases, it’s exactly that resignation that influences repeat assaults. While there’s no conclusive evidence as to why revictimization happens, we do know that normalizing assault can contribute to future harm. If a survivor has not internalized their experience as exceptionally traumatic, they are less likely to advocate for themselves, or demand accountability if it happens again. If they, like me, accept violence as an obvious fact of their lives, then when it repeats, they don’t seek the support they need to process and heal from each experience.

In an article for Psychology Today, psychotherapist and clinical social worker Keith Fadelici called this a “cognitive accommodation to ongoing violence.” The trauma continuously gets downplayed as victims attempt to normalize their assaults, which helps them feel more in control. “This dissociative process is a common symptom of PTSD,” Fadelici told me. “And can also later make survivors less capable of detecting risk by numbing the fear that is supposed to trigger alertness to danger.”

Oppression also plays a significant role. Those with marginalized identities are more at risk for experiencing assault in general, and thus more likely to experience it again. LGBTQ+ people are four times more likely to be assaulted than the general population (bisexual women and trangender people also are far more likely to experience assault than gay men and lesbian women). Rates of sexual assault for Indigenous women are three times higher than non-Indigenous women, and Black women are much more likely to experience assault than white women. Neurodivergent people are 11 times more likely than neurotypical people to be victims of violent crimes.

“If this is coming up repeatedly with one individual, it might be because that person is within systems and structures that facilitate assault more often,” said Jaffe. For those of us living with any of these identities, we normalize violence because living under oppression is consistently violent. In order to survive, a “cognitive accommodation to ongoing violence” is necessary. We train ourselves to get used to it, and move on.

After #MeToo, I began reading and rereading the legal definitions for rape and sexual assault to make sense of what had happened to me. Any sexual contact that occurred without consent constitutes assault? Any sexual contact that included penetration without the other person’s consent constitutes rape? The criteria felt almost too easy. Under these standards, I had been raped twice, and assaulted several other times—all stories I had not yet fully internalized, and was not yet ready to tell. Dozens of legal crimes had been committed against my body, but that idea felt so unfathomable I hardly knew what to do next.

In the three years after publishing that first story, I experienced more incidents, and I still don’t know what to call them. I don’t feel comfortable firmly declaring them as “assault.” I don’t like how it connects so deeply with an oppressive legal system, and how it automatically connotes some excessive form of violence. Even today, it seems too strong and rough a word for how these episodes played out: often with little physicality, with only brief conflict and polite turns toward quick forgiveness, until weeks later when I’d unpack the severity of what had happened. As I began sharing more of these stories with close friends, I would catch myself saying “technically” before saying “I was assaulted,” acknowledging the semantic disconnect I still felt. This hesitation is common among many survivors: As one 2019 meta-analysis showed, rates of victimization increase when participants are asked “behaviorally descriptive questions” about what happened to them, rather than questions that use terms like “rape” and “assault.”

Sometimes, people ask “How many times all together?” I say “six-ish,” a number that captures the amount of experiences that have dramatically changed the way I relate to my body—how it experiences intimacy, how it engages with the world: The one that happened at work, just weeks into my first job out of college. The one at a festival in India. The one while getting a deep-tissue massage. The one at a New York play party. The one so common I learned it has its own name (“stealthing“). The one with a lover I had loved and trusted deeply. The one with another lover, a violation that was not sexual but physical and thus, as yet another nonconsensual act done against my body, still felt so connected to all the rest.

And this still does not take into account every time I was nonconsensually touched in public—the men who pulled and grabbed my arms, my back, my butt, my shoulders to try to get my attention on the street—nor the times I’ve been followed, harassed, physically threatened by strangers on the street.

The accumulation of more and more of these events creates a compounding impact, one where each additional incident begins to amplify the ones before. For me and most survivors I spoke to, we are not healing from trauma—we are learning how to exist in a world where trauma continues to accumulate.

Every survivor I interviewed for this piece told me they fully accept the potential that they’ll experience assault in the future. Still, most of them admitted to me that it’s still easier to only share just one story with the world—never the full range of what has happened to them. “When you only have one story, the enemy is the rapist,” one survivor told me. “But when you have several people with a lifetime of these experiences, the enemy is all of us.”

This is what we mean when we talk about rape culture. The first thing we can do to start to dismantle it is to recognize what we’re up against.

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darkwaveho · 5 months

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Damage Control

Summary: You went through hell just to get this vacation, and everything has been going smooth but how long will it last?

Parings: Mob!Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: 18+, violence, fluff, jealousy, hurt -comfort, angst, drug use, alcohol use, bondage, edging, orgasm denial, Oral, fingering, overstimulation, scissoring, tribbing, psychotic le$beans <3

A/n: This shit is long asf lmaoo so if you don't have time to read it in one sitting I would probably wait until you do, buut that's just me idk? never again (unless on A03) anyway, I hope you guys like it and thank you guys for being patient with me. I know I promised this chapter like a year ago but I'm happy to finally post this and get it out of my dusty drafts folder.😂💜

Damage Control Masterlist

During the whole vacation trip Natasha was insatiable, never letting you get an inch before her hands and lips were on you. she fucked you anywhere she could. That whole situation in the warehouse was a wakeup call for her and she would never take you for granted ever again.

“Tashh, enough.” you whine into the pillow she licks a long stripe up the center of your neck before she bites your skin. “That’s not what you said last night.” she drags her lips against your skin and drips her head down to lower each kiss further down your body. “In fact, I believe the words that came out of your mouth was ‘more, don’t stop, more." She mocks you with pride, smirking against your skin as she travels dangerously closer to your covered sex.

“Shut up.” you harshly yank her hair in retaliation. “Shut me up then.” she smirks after she bites your cheek in retaliation and tugs on your panties you move her hand away from the expensive lace. “I’m serious, I still need to get dressed. we both still need to get dressed” you correct yourself and huff beneath her. “We can stay in and go to the club another night.” you roll over on top of her as she was caught off guard. thinking she’s won you over she places her hands on your hips waiting for you to give her what she wants.

“We’re going.” you untangle her hands from your hips and walk into the bathroom to fully dress yourself. “You know you want to; I don’t even know why you’re denying it right now.”

“We’re not staying cooped up here in the penthouse tonight, Tash. we already missed our dinner reservations.”

“Well, whose fault is that? you’re wearing my favorite set. what’d you expect?”

“I expect you to have some self-control but we both know you don’t know what that is, don’t we?” you snap back at her not caring if you bruised her ego or hurt her for bringing the amber thing back up in her face. Okay you haven’t completely forgiven her; you still threw things up in her face any chance you got, and Natasha couldn’t do anything but sit there and take it. she sighs on the bed waiting for you to return from the bathroom.

She checks her phone for any updates on anything back home. nothing out of the ordinary, Yelena bugging her about when you’re coming back because she misses her bestie and Clint dealing with import deals. She also saw a couple of text messages from Melina. Once she saw the mention of his name on her screen, she shut the whole thing down completely. She needed to take her mind off of it. There was no way she was going out tonight, she wouldn’t be up to partying now.

“Why aren’t you dressed yet?” you stand in front of her on the bed hand placed on your hip annoyance present on your face. say lays there on the silk sheet in her button up blouse that she was too lazy to button up at the moment and no pants. she stands giving you a better view of the lace that pressed against her body. she nears you with hunger and an unwavering gaze. she was mesmerized. staring at you, admiring your beauty. there was also a look on her face that you know too well, something set her off and she needs a distraction, a way to release her emotions.

“Look at you baby, absolutely breathtaking.” she swiftly slides her hand under the tight dress running her hands against your soft skin. “Tash, no. I already said we were going.” you try to remain firm on your plans, she’s done this many times before to sway you into doing what she wanted.

“Please.” you groan from hearing her beg and she knows it’s a weakness of yours. you rarely ever heard her beg. after almost losing you forever she’s wanted nothing more than to keep you to herself in this penthouse. “I’ll make it up to you in the morning, sweet face. We can have our own party right here.” You stand firmly on your decision by unlinking her hands from around your waist. “No, I said we’re going, if you're not downstairs in 10 minutes I’ll just go by myself.” You grab your jacket and make your way to the door.

“You wouldn’t leave me.” She replies with confidence, maybe the old you wouldn’t have but the Amber situation brought things up in a new light you were tired of her shit. You had just as much if not equal power as she did; you were no longer going to let things slide so easily. “I guess you’ll find out in about…” You glance at your phone to view the time. “Seven minutes now.”

Natasha sighs heavily as you leave her alone in the penthouse. She really didn’t feel like going out and maybe she should’ve given you more details about why she had a change of heart but then that meant she had to talk about it. She also didn’t want to spend the remainder of the night alone, so she put the rest of her outfit together, but she didn't rush to finish. Ignoring the time frame, you set for her. She was deliberately ignoring the timeframe you set for her just to remind you of who was still in charge regardless of how sorry she was for her mistake. Natasha is the one calling the shots, at least that’s what she thinks.

She makes her way downstairs coming out of the building as the doorman holds the door open for her. She waits patiently still not seeing the driver's car. She calls you promptly and you let the phone ring on the first call just to be petty. Truth, is you left immediately after you made it downstairs. Telling the driver that you had a change of heart and that you were still going to the club. “Y/n, where are you?” She has to shout into the phone and now it away from her ear as the loud screams and music drum through her ear. “I’m at the club, duh. You took too long.” Natasha goes to yell at you for leaving her. You weren’t even sitting outside for no longer than ten minutes. Her lips part but remain in place as she hears the mentions of body shots. She hears your voice agreeing and cheering on the crowd. “Y/n I swear to god! We’ve been doing so well on vacation, don't do anything stupid to ruin it.”

“It's called having fun Natasha, you could be having fun with me and my new friends right now if you came downstairs in a timely matter.” The only words that seem to register in her head is “new friends” “Listen, very carefully I will leave bodies all throughout this city if I have to, don’t add more deaths to your consciousness.” If Natasha could see your face on the other end of the phone, she would have regretted saying those words to you. She knows how hard you tried staying away from actually getting your hands dirty, not only was Amber a contest reminder of infidelity but a constant reminder that no matter how hard you tried you still had the blood of a killer in you.

“Well, I guess I should tell you to have fun on your Gta rampage then. I’ll see you back at the penthouse.” just as you finish your response the drunken woman you've come really close to in a matter of minutes comes back with your drinks. The only thing Natasha can accurately make out is that it was your turn for body shots. If that meant you licking someone else's body or someone else licking your body, she didn’t know, and she didn't care. It shouldn't be happening. She doesn’t expect the growl to escape her throat as she yells into the phone again, but this level of disrespect was causing her to lose every inch of restraint she's been holding back on this entire trip.

“Y/n!”

“Bye Tash!” You end the call with a muffled laugh as the phone goes dead. Natasha fumes by the curb, the realization of the club music no longer playing on her phone. Your voice filled with excitement. You, having fun without her. Having fun with strangers. Would you be bold enough to get even with her after everything she's doing to show you how sorry she was? Natasha’s not going to stand here and think about scenarios like that. If this is the game you wanted to play, fine she down to play but she won't be holding herself accountable for what comes out of it. Natasha gathers her thoughts and calls a contact to pick her up. As she sits in the vehicle dangerously calm, and stone faced. The inner part of her is excited. Yes, excited to cause a bit of chaos. She’s been loving vacation time with you, but it wasn’t every day that she gets to go on a rampage. The other non-rational devil on her shoulder keeps repeating that you're pushing her to do this. You want her to act this way. You want to see innocent people die and get hurt. One thing Nat is always good for is making your wish come true.

---------------

Natasha swears she made it in record time telling her driver to run every red light that tried to slow her down. Her fast-paced steps hold a rhythm as she searches for you within the dark and crowded room. when she spots you by the bar preparing to lay on the counter the rage overloaded as she stomps her way over to you.

“Did you think that was fucking funny?” she adds more force behind the yanking of your neck. She practically drags you to the corner of the bar before a bystander approaches her for her aggressive actions. "Hey, leave her alone!” She naps her head around to face the person who dared speak to her and inserts herself in her relationship conflicts. “What the fuck did you just say to me?” The man doesn’t back down clearly not knowing who Natasha is and what her level of power was. “You heard what I said.” he reaches for you, thinking that you were actually in danger. You’re too buzzed to actually tell him that everything was okay. That and the fact that Natasha was jealous and angry had you wanting to see how things would play out.

Natasha lands a swift and impactful hit to his throat, crushing his air supply momentarily. As the man holds his neck in pain while coughing up a lung Natasha watches him still not satisfied with the damage. “Fuck!” The man cries out in pain. Always the observant one, Natasha picked up the abandoned glass off the bar and in one swift motion she lodged the shattered piece of glass into the man’s neck. Blood splatters out as the man's face raises in panic, he holds the wound on his neck for dear life desperately trying to keep all the blood from flowing out as much as possible. “You crazy bitch.”

The outburst caused a scene within the club, people yelling and screaming from the escalated fight that just occurred before their very eyes.

“What the hell is going on?” The woman's voice sounds louder than the music and the frantic screams in the club. Natasha turns her head with pinch brows as she recognizes the voice. “Long time no see.” she smirks to the woman and you stand there clueless looking back and forth between the two. “I should've known it was you Romanoff, what the hell are you doing wrecking my club?”

“Relax Sharon, it’s just a flesh wound he’ll be fine.” the blonde woman sighs and brushes it off, calling her worker over to clean up the mess. “Come on, let me show you to the VIP section.” Natasha quickly interjects Sharon’s offer.

“Oh that won't be necessary, we aren't staying anymore since this one wanted to get a rise out of me.” she clenches your forearm as she responds to Sharon, an obvious sign that you really made her mad tonight.

“Oh, come on, you can't come to madripoor unannounced, trash my club and then leave, have some class, Natasha. I mean unless you’re still working under Alexei and have no time for fun, or a social life then never mind.” Sharon pokes fun at her knowing she'd get her to stay at least for an hour by bringing up Alexei’s name. She turns away from you and Natasha and halts when Natasha's voice reaches her ears once more.

“We’ll stay for about an hour or so, my sweet face here already started partying without me.” she reminds you of what you did just to make you feel guilty. For making her lash out like that when this was supposed to be a relaxing time for the both of you to reconnect and just enjoy the sense of a normal relationship vacation trip.

“Ah so this is y/n? Had I known that you were in my establishment I would have treated you to a much more luxurious greeting.” Sharon grasps your hand with the utmost gentle care. “I’m Sharon Carter, nice to finally put a name to a face.” You rarely were involved with Natasha’s business. After what happened to your father you tried to block that part of your life out. So, it shocks you that Natasha would mention your name to someone you haven’t met before. “Sup Sharon.” You reply back to her and shake her hand that hasn’t left yours during this whole interaction. She accepts the greeting and releases your soft hand. Sharon turns to Natasha and motions with a tilted head nod for her to follow.

“So, I can count on you to spend a little more for that outburst you caused earlier?” Sharon speaks over the loud music as she leads you both to the top level of the club.

“Well, that depends.” Natasha shouts back and keeps you pinned to her side to make sure you don’t wander off causing more headaches for her.

“On what?” Sharon questions Natasha's response, only her focus was on you and your inebriated, loopy state. “If you keep making sly touches and glances at my girlfriend ” It takes Natasha to yank you by your clothes for Sharon to bring her attention back to Nat’s unamused glare. Sharon clears her throat and rolls her eyes. “Right, I forgot you’re not big on sharing.”

“Let’s hope you don’t forget that again, for your own sake.” Only Natasha could be this unfazed about making threats to Sharon in her own environment. The remainder of the walk was silent apart from the loud music and passing conversations.

“Let me know if you need anything.” Sharon showed you to the table right above the dance floor. Natasha sat down in the booth and drinks were brought to the table immediately. Natasha didn't say one word to you, she spoke about you as if you weren't sitting right next to her silently begging for her to acknowledge you, touch you, look at you or something.

You start thinking that maybe you went a little too far tonight, but then you remember that she had no right to act this way when she was the one who stepped out on you and this relationship. You throw back a vodka shot and stand from the booth. The sound of the glass firmly slamming against the table brought her attention to you, only this time you weren't really seeking for her anymore and she could sense that. The sudden movement of you standing has Natasha's grip on your wrist in an instant. “Where are you going?” Natasha's grip on your arm for the second time that night did not hold back on the amount of strength she used on you. "The restroom.” you reply back to her with gritted teeth and an annoyed attitude. She raises her eyebrow at the tone of your voice, maybe she’s been too soft with you. Let this be no mistake she was sorry for what she did, and she wanted to do anything to make it up to you, but she would never tolerate this level of disrespect, especially in a public setting. You know better.

The image she possessed was everything to Natasha, it always has been and it always will be. She releases you and turns back to her abandoned drink and lights a cigar. Silently telling you it was Okay to leave from the vip section. Sharon comes back to the vip section not expecting you to be absent. “Where’s your troublemaker?” She sits down across from Natasha casually fixing the cuffs of her suit jacket.

“What do you want, Carter?” Natasha takes the cigar out of her mouth as smoke fills the area. “Well, I wouldn’t be a businesswoman if I didn’t at least try to tempt you into something, now, would I?” Natasha doesn’t even hesitate with an answer. “No.” Sharon’s face drops from rejection and Natasha’s blunt but playful response. “Oh, c’mon you haven’t even heard me out yet.” Natasha looks Sharon over for a moment and thinks what warm could it do to at least hear the proposal. “Alright, fine but don’t waste my time.” Sharon smiles as she’s won Natasha over; she also knows the amount of money the two of them could make would have her set for life without any worry.

------------

During that time of discussing business Natasha lost track of time and your absence. She searches the crowd from above until her eyes land on you, on the dance floor dancing but of course you're not alone why would you be when you look that good in a club filled past its maximum capacity. “Nice, catching up with you Sharon but we have to get going now.'' Natasha puts the cigar out and throws back her drink before slamming the glass down against the marble tabletop. The glass cracks from the brutal force but Sharon doesn’t complain about it, she could care less about a glass right now, her mind was too busy focused on her future financial luxury that would be coming her way.

You let the music take over as all the negative energy fades away from your body. You dance close with strangers, well one woman wasn’t really a stranger you met her in the restroom. After a few traded compliments you two have since then become best friends even if she doesn’t know your name. As your body grinds against others without a care in the world you're once again snatched up and pulled away from the dance floor. "Ouch!" You yell out in pain, but Natasha continues on her mission to exit the club with her hand firmly around the back of your neck.

“Get in the car.” she shoves you into the backseat. “Aww are you mad at me baby?” you inch toward her with a condescending pout on your face. You reach for her face to bring her closer, she dodges with ease. Setting her jaw and sticking to keeping her eyes on the window she wasn’t in the mood to play your game.

The moment you were about to cave in and apologize to her, the car door opened on your end, surprising you both. Natasha was seconds away from blowing a hole into the intruders head just because she’s away on vacation doesn’t mean she let her guard down. She was always aware and alert. The sound of the bullet never comes as she blinks away the utter disbelief that someone would be stupid enough to enter her vehicle. It’s the woman you were on the dance floor with.

“Omg I was looking all over for you! One minute we were drowning in vodka, sharing a blunt and then the next you were gone babe by.” She moves the hair from her eyes and leans a little closer to you. She was obviously more drunk than you, not even taking notice of the gun barrel that was aimed at her head. “Omg you found me!” You move away from Nat scooting closer to the other side of the seat.

“Of course, I did! Now why don’t we take this party back to your place, we can have more fun with just us.” her hands start to travel in places that only belonged to the fuming red head seated on the opposite side of you.

“Absolutely not!”

“Cmon Tash live a little, I don’t mind at all” The woman snorts thin white powder from her wrist, that seemed to get Natasha’s attention again but what comes after it has her considering cutting this trip short and ending her no kill rule for this trip. The woman plants her lips onto yours. Humming in delight and moaning in ecstasy. It was quick but calculated so much so that her tongue sneaked its way past your lips for the second time tonight.

Natasha had enough. There was a part of her that thought this through, thoughts of participating in a threesome, thoughts of letting you sleep with someone else for what she did to you, but she could never go through with it, she was selfish and a hypocrite.

Her apology would have to be enough because once again she’s not big on sharing and she’s definitely not big on sharing when it comes to you, she’s had many requests over the entirety of your relationship. All have been shot down over the request and some have literally been shot at for even proposing such a thing. “Get the fuck out!” Natasha shields you away from the drunken woman pulling you onto her lap and raising the gun to a better eye level. “Woah, hey! No need to get violent red. I was going to give you a taste next.” She raises her hands up in surrender. She furrows her eyes and does a seductive motion, slowly lifting her dress up to change Natasha’s mind. “Mm can we take her home Tash?” You bite your lip as you slowly wait for the drunken women to reveal more.

“Don’t move your hands any further unless you want me to chop them off! Now get out!” You can only giggle hysterically at the interaction between the two of them. Natasha smacks your ass to quiet your annoying drunken giggles and gives the woman one last chance to exit the vehicle before the entire back seat interior was covered with her brains. If she even had a brain. She understands the seriousness now or either she’s started to slowly sober up but she doesn’t say anything else as she exits the car finally. “Byee madissyn.” You slur your words as you watch her leave the vehicle. Natasha grabs your face harshly turning you around to face her, and for the first time tonight she looks deeply into your eyes and lifts your eyelids. “Did you fucking take something?” You giggle and mock her as a reply “dId yOu fuckin take something.”

“Relax, it’s nothing we haven’t done before.” Natasha doesn’t need you to go further she can tell by your dilated pupils and the way you can’t sit still in the leather seats. Ecstasy. She knows the signs partly because you’ve done it together a few times when you were younger. She can’t decide if she’s upset that you took it from a stranger or the fact that you took it without her.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind? You don’t even know her!” Natasha shoves you to the other side of the seat and instructs the driver to head back to the penthouse. You've made her mad, mission accomplished but at what cost?

-------------

Entering the penthouse Natasha goes straight to the bar by the window, taking her jacket off and tossing it on the bar stool. For some reason it annoys you, how could she be so upset and hurt when all you did was dance and participate in harmless body shot fun. Okay maybe it wasn’t as innocent as you made it out to be but the fact that she was being hypocritical right now only angered you more. “You’re upset about a dance, body shots, shotgunning some weed and some ecstasy pills?” She keeps her back turned towards you as she sips on her drink. You walk closer to her stumbling a bit when you near the bar.

“It was more than that and you know it, the whore even followed us out to the car and had the nerve to touch you! We didn’t discuss anything about bringing a strange whore into our bed!” She deeply inhales and exhales, closing her eyes to maintain her calm demeanor. “Get away from me y/n, I’m not in the mood to even look at you right now.”

“Aww did you not like her touching my body?”

”Y/n” she says in a warning tone, her face is stern but the way her lips pout in a cute way only makes you want to push further.. “Did you not like her lips grazing mine?”

“I’m warning you, watch what comes out of your mouth.” You challenge her, what could she possibly do when she vowed not to hit you in that way again? You brush off her warning threat and you can’t fully blame it on the drugs and the alcohol for what comes out of your mouth because truth be told it’s been on your mind since that day.

“I would hate to see the look on your face when I actually do decide to fuck someone else!” Her hand finds comfort around your throat, your back pressed against the wall as you struggle to breathe. Natasha doesn’t look like she’s letting go of you anytime soon. Being in this position was a sense of deja vu. Being back home in the bedroom after finding out about Natasha's true actions at Tony’s club, but this time it didn’t end with you receiving a slap to the face and a split lip.

“You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t tell me what I don’t m-“ your snappy response gets cut off when you feel the ripped fabric of your skirt. cold air exposing you and the wet spot of your fancy lingerie. “You think someone can fuck you better than me?”

“The way you’ve soaked your panties tells me otherwise, did you like making me mad? You like seeing me go crazy over you?” Your breathing picks up as she moves closer to you. Her lips ghosting over yours. Everything she said was true, you just wanted to be petty tonight, and give her a taste of what could happen if she ever stepped out on you again. There is always someone out there that would kill for a night with you.

“I asked you a question” she tightens her grip on your neck no doubt a bruise will be left when her hand finally retracts from your skin. You offer no reply back to your girlfriend, only smiling menacingly at her and placing your hand on top of hers adding more pressure to your restricted airway. A flash of excitement rushes through Natasha. You weren’t always like this, so willing to initiate certain kinks like airplay. “I know everything about you and your body, I know what sets you off, and I know I’m the only person that can make you cry out to god.” You don’t hide any sense of humility. Smugness plastered across your face. It’s not enough, you really want to push her.

“Unfortunately for you the same can’t be said for me.” You’ve pushed too far deep now. She knows you can find pleasure from someone else. Of course, it won’t be on the same level as her, but your body will react and openly welcome the pleasure. For her it’s not the case, the prime example of that is now dead. The darkness within her eyes had you retreating. No longer wanting to toy with her but the damage was done, and Natasha had her mind set, once she finally had confirmation that you wanted her to lash out at you and use your body to take out her frustrations. Finally, she slams you to the window, not hard enough to truly injure you but hard enough to have more than a hangover in the morning.

Her lips crash into yours leaving your plea unheard. The kiss was rough and messy, as it normally would be in this situation of claiming you. The feeling of her rough hands tearing at the remainder of your clothes.

“Fuck, you know I love this set on you.” She speaks with mesmerized once again as her eyes land on the lingerie set that had her begging you to stay on for the night. It was a midnight black two piece. Mostly basic, Natasha didn’t need much despite her lifestyle, at least when it came to you she welcomed simplicity she found it just as sexy as you dressing up for her but the reality of it all was she just loved you. No matter how long or how hard it’s taken her to admit that out loud and under the circumstances it came out.

“Duh, that’s why I put it on.” You don’t receive any form of reply. Natasha snatches the fabric of your bralette finally exposing your Breasts. Her animalistic growls only increase the burning desire to have her near your throbbing core. She briefly breaks away from the kiss, roughly turning you around to face the bright lights and industrial buildings. Your face pressed against the window and her fingers plunged into your warm cunt without warning. You didn’t need any foreplay, that started the minute you decided to leave her for the club. Riling her up any chance you got. You hoped that she would fuck you, but you didn’t want to be fucked against this high rising window. You teased her, you angered her, and edged her on, now you were just going to have to deal with it and take what she gives you. She keeps a steady and brutal pace pushing you closer to your high and pulling away just at the cusps.

“Hm, Tash- it’s enough.” You reach behind you with intentions to push her arm away. Natasha smirks and forcefully pushes your pleading hand away and plants it against the window as well. She keeps her hand there for extra security, squeezing your wrist as a silent warning not to do it again or to move it. She wasn’t done tormenting you just yet, but she’ll allow you to cum. She lifts your leg and hikes your thigh up for a better angle, adding another finger to your overstimulated hole. She grunts as her breath fans over the shell of your ear.

“Nat”

“Tsk, what happened to all of that mouth you had a few minutes ago? she knows your fear of heights and still proceeds to fuck you against the thick glass. The fear and the pleasure has your mind going foggy, experiencing both at the same time. She pounds into you harder with each thrust reminding you of who you belong to. The thick glass brought some sort of comfort to your skin, cooling it off from Natasha’s burning touch. No words come from you, only panting and whines. Your breath fogs the glass as Natasha keeps her brutal pace, slick runs down your legs . She doesn’t relent until you practically turn into mush against the tall frame window.

As you feel her body weight slightly removed from your back you sniffle as the tears built up in your eyes struggle from falling down your cheeks. The edges her on even more, the sound of you trying to catch your breath and the small sound of your sniffles push her further. She’s definitely not done being petty. She takes her previous position behind you and pulls your back against her front; she grazes her lips against the warm skin of your ear and her raspy voice lights a fire inside of you from anger and arousal. “Who’s the sensitive one now?” You didn’t need to turn around to know she was wearing that shit eating smirk, you didn’t even need to look at her reflection in the smudge stain glass, you could hear it.

You use all the strength you have left on your shaky limbs to push her away. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You asshole!” You wipe the stray tears that fell from your eyes and Natasha only returns a smirk in response before she reaches for her abandoned drink on the bar counter. “Relax, the window is custom made, there are very few things that would make it shatter and our body weight isn’t one of them.” Natasha isn’t hiding her enjoyment right now, it’s on a very rare occasion when you actually cry for her. After the small moment of silence the soreness and weakened state of your body starts to take effect. Your eyes feel heavy and the drugs start to come back in full effect. It's pretty normal for you when you do smoke, not to mention the post orgasm clarity.

Natasha stood next to you the entire time watching you and she knows you had the idea of sleeping on your mind next and that just wasn’t enough for her, she’s still angry at you. Natasha picks you up and heads for the bedroom, she lays you on the bed gently totally different from her aggressive demeanor in the living room. You think she’s helping you get more comfortable, but the light tap against your cheek tells you otherwise. “Oh, no sweet face, wake up we’re not done yet.” She removes your shoes and tosses them to the floor. You hear shuffling around you still not quite aware of your surroundings.

“You’re a hypocritical, psychotic, asshole.” You mumble into the cool air of the night with closed eyes. The small break was enough for you to gather yourself again and you’re still upset about her putting you into danger like that just to get back at you for what happened at the club. She stops unbuttoning her blouse and kneels over your body until she’s face to face with you, her hands softly rub against your cheeks. “Don’t act like you don’t love it.” Natasha takes her clothes off and sits everything she needs on the other side of the bed, the next thing you feel is the bed dipping. Natasha grabs both of your arms and lifts them above your head, the feeling of soft fabric against your wrist causes you to jerk your body. She pays no mind to you as she continues to focus on knotting the fabric and connecting it to the headboard.

Your mind is still hazy, so every little movement Natasha makes is keeping you alert. “Nat, what are you doing?” You say, your voice is scratchy and hoarse. Natasha returns with a liquor bottle, two shot glasses and one regular glass. “We’re gonna play a game, since you’re in a playful mood tonight.” Is all she says before pouring into the two shot glasses. You curiously watch her in anticipation. She kisses up your stomach leaving bites and wet kisses along the way before she stops at your neck and pulls away all together.

“If you spill any of my drinks you lose.” She places one shot glass on your bare stomach as you shudder from the cold glass she sends you a warning sound. “Careful buttercup you don’t want to lose before we even start now do you?” You have to compose the little self control you have left. Her fingers slide against your thighs as they get closer and closer to your sex her smirk grows wider. Her finger grazes your swollen clit and you have no choice but to react causing the drink to shake but thankfully the alcohol remains in the glass.

Natasha crawls up your body and takes the glass in her mouth while remaining eye contact, she doesn’t finish all of it, she leaves a small amount in the glass and removes it from her mouth and pours the alcohol down your body starting from the center of your chest. You shudder from the contact and Natasha doesn’t give you much of a break as she starts her attack going down your body. She follows the trail that the alcohol leaves behind for her with her tongue. Leaving deep marks and bites along the way until she makes it back to your clit with a gentle kiss that leaves you wanting more. She looks up from your clit at the sound of your moan.

“Isn’t this much better than doing body shots with strangers?” You don’t reply to her, your head is too busy wondering how long she’ll keep this game up. She pours another shot but this time she has a new agenda on her mind. She makes her way up your body right in front of your breathless face. “Are you thirsty?” She knows the answer to that question just based on your appearance. The tension in your throat was becoming too much. You need a sense of relief. She takes your head leaning forward as a yes. Just as your lips were about to make contact with the glass, she pulls it away from you and drinks the shot herself and chuckles from the bewildered look on your face. “What the hell Nat!” You don’t even know what number of shots she’s on right now, but it takes a lot for Natasha to be drunk. A drunk Natasha was a completely different story than an annoyed Natasha.

“You still thirsty?” She whispers against your lips. Her stare is intense and intoxicating. You look away from her to show her just how annoyed you are, of course she thinks it’s cute. She refills the glass and hooks her finger under your chin bringing you face to face with her again. She downs the shot once again and tosses the glass across the room. She keeps your face in place as you try no ring away from her. She smashes her lips against yours and pushes the alcohol into your mouth. It’s fast and sloppy, so small amounts of it leak down the corner of your mouth and as Natasha pulls back she uses her tongue to catch every drip she sees.

“You want more Detka?” She still remains close to you as she reaches over to grab the bottle of alcohol off of the small cart. You only silently nod eagerly, wanting her to do it again. Except this time she hooks a finger underneath your chin tilting your head backwards and tips the bottle over. She notices the sudden change in enthusiasm at the change of direction. She can only laugh at you and your expressions but she can’t get too lost in it. This was a punishment after all. There was no time to be soft, at least so early into things. “Don’t pout.”

The next time she reaches for a shot to place on your stomach she sits the bigger glass on your stomach as well. She follows it up with dropping a few pieces of ice into the glass. “Nat you’re not being fair” frustration grows more when you realize this was a losing game either way it went. It’s not a game at all, it's a punishment of overstimulation. She pulls the wand out and turns it on to the highest level, your moans rise in volume at the first touch. “What was that I can’t hear you?” She keeps a firm grip on the toy and doesn’t relent on the pressure against your clit. “Fuck” you whine from the overstimulation, your legs are numb, and you no longer have the strength to try closing them from Natasha's access. The drinks spill over your body and the sheets Natasha takes in the sight with pride even though you’ve clearly just lost she has not intent on letting up on this game “You lost, baby and you’ve made such a mess.” She taunts you with fake concern as her hand stays firm and she starts moving the toy against your folds.

“Natasha, please.” She pouts at you with her fake sympathy. “Natasha please, what?” She gave your messy pussy a break by turning the level to the lowest Instead of taking it away completely. Your facial expressions plead more towards her than your words do. “Y-ou made your point, okay? now can you please- fuck! untie me?” She hums, weighing her decisions on if she thinks you’ve learned your lesson or not. Not really though because once Natasha Romanoff’s mind was set on something she made sure to go through with it no matter what. She took a little bit of pity on you right now but she really wanted to see this through, plus she was beyond turned on. She’s just stubborn like that.

“You know I don’t like pity cards and you know I don’t like cop outs, but nice try buttercup. You take what I give you and be happy with it.” If you were truly in unbearable pain, you’d use the safe word or Natasha would notice your breaking point and stop everything immediately. “Besides, don't you want to cum?” You growl in frustration as you glare at her, forgetting about the tight silk fabric strained against your skin you hiss in pain after your little tantrum. Natasha chuckles as she presses the toy firmly back into you. “You’re worried about me hurting you, it looks like those are doing it all on their own.”

“Mmh- h-how much longer are you gonna keep me like this?

“Until my feelings are no longer hurt or until I’m satisfied enough with how puffy and messy your pussy gets for me.” You were about to say something until the sensation of the wand tapping against your clit and the curl of Natasha’s finger entering your hole sent you further into ecstasy “Oh! Oh my-“ your fingers clench hard around the fabric of the restraints. “You know you haven’t even said sorry.” The look you gave her made her laugh but you can tell that she was being serious, maybe you did cut a little deep with your words knowing she has abandonment issues among many others. “I’m sorry, please. I’m sorry Tash.” You desperately apologize to her and she gives you no sign that she’s acknowledged it. Natasha turns the toy back on but not to the highest level and trails her tongue to your throbbing and neglected hole. She teases you for a moment by swirling her tongue around the hole before she spreads your folds, dives in and fucks you with firm and fast strokes. The sound of your wetness egging both of you on even more.

Every stroke and flick of her tongue was so intensifying that you forgot all about the silk fabrics restricting your hands from her grasp. Your body jerks from overstimulation but hearing the sound of Natasha’s praise filled moans made up for it. You ignore the stinging pain as the pleasure was much more overpowering. Just as you were getting used to the feeling of being on the edge again Natasha abruptly stops and pulls away from you with your juices smeared over her face. She enjoys the baffled look on your face right now. “I hate you.” You say, breathlessly while glaring at her as your legs shake uncontrollably with the loss of another orgasm.

You both know that’s not true she is using this moment to trap you, she wants to get a reaction out of you, she wants you to beg her to fuck you after you’ve been pleading with her for a break. “No, you don’t.” She places a soft but burning kiss on your skin while doing absolutely nothing to hide that smug expression from her face. You arch your back off of the bed, the sensation is now becoming too much to withstand. Natasha takes note of it and silently looks at you for any signs that you are at your limit. You wrap your legs around her as tight as your worn-out limbs will allow. “Keep going daddy, I’m okay.” Natasha’s strong hands have to keep you in place as she devours what belongs to her.

“Naat” your voice was finally at its breaking point. Worn out and hoarse. Natasha doesn’t budge, she keeps her focus on gaining her pleasure. “Hm fuck, just hold on a little longer” she thrusts against you groaning just how you like it, breathlessly panting with extra rasp in her voice. The moment her breath fans against your earlobe you felt your control slipping away. “Hold on for daddy?” She hooks your leg up for more security. Her fingers would surely leave behind imprints from the way she’s pressed her fingers into your soft thighs. “You feel so fucking good throbbing against me.”

“Just for me” she whispers the words out loud more so to herself than to you, but you respond to her anyway.

“Uh huh” you nod with eagerness as your nails claw at her skin. Natasha endures the stinging pain as she gets lost in the feeling of your warm slick. “Say it!” The sound of her hand making contact with the side of your ass jerks your body. “Just for you! Fuck, just for you!” You cum before Natasha does, you were already worked up and well spent she however still had energy left to use against you. Anger and jealousy were always a motivational boost for Natasha’s sex drive weirdly enough. As you lay there catching your breath Natasha’s movements slow down only for a moment before she’s repositioning herself on top of you. She finally frees your hands from the silk binds. Quickly massaging your wrists and leaving a chastise kiss on them. She spreads your puffy folds and begins angling herself against you. “Tash.”

“You can take it.” The sigh of relief and pleasure that takes over Natasha’s face was definitely worth the soreness that you will feel in the morning. She positions her clit against your dripping hole, she slowly pushes into you. The warmth of your pussy against the tip of Natasha’s clit was pure joy, she doesn’t do it often, or rather she didn’t really have time to do anything other than a quickie. Her mob activities and her regular nine to five businesses were always top priority now with new goals and a clean slate she wouldn’t dream about leaving you and your feelings out of the equation anymore. Especially not if she gets to fuck you like this more often.

Natasha snaps her hips forward, with each thrust your tits bounce in perfect rhythm. Her thrusts start slow but firm, until she can no longer hold on. Even though her entry point was small it didn’t take away the indescribable feeling of you sucking her in. Natasha pulls back for observation and once she sees the tip of her clit still inside of you something snaps inside of her. The perfect bounce of your tits soon starts to become erratic and sloppy just as Natasha’s thrusts. The loud sound of skin slapping, and wetness was almost enough to drown out anything else.

she buries her face into the crook of your neck, her muffled moans send the last bit of sensation you had left through your body. You don’t move. All of your limbs were non-functional at the moment, your bodies are still pressed together, and you hope to the highest heaven that Natasha meant what she said this time because you could still feel her throbbing against your folds. Your warm juices continue to flow as you watch Natasha come down from her high. “That was so hot.” She bites the side of your neck and soothes it over with her tongue. She takes a moment to place soft kisses anywhere she can on your body. You lay there in comfortable silence as you bask in the warmth and affection, she’s showing you right now because you truly don’t know how long it will last. How long this side of Natasha would stay before she’s back to her cold and set ways of thinking.

You fought off sleep as long as you could, but you were no longer winning the fight, Natasha obviously notices you trying to keep yourself awake. She makes quick work of cleaning you up, during your moment of dazed and fuzzy afterglow you only come down when you feel her in the same area she just abused. “Fuck off tash.” You limply try swatting her hands away from your cunt. Natasha scoffs and chuckles in the same breath. “Shut up and stop squirming. I'm cleaning you up, I should leave you a mess for what you did tonight.” She slaps your pussy once just to add on to the ‘asshole of the night award’ and you call her a bitch which only makes her chuckle. You know it’s a lie, Nat has never deliberately skipped aftercare with you. Only in times when she had to rush out unexpectedly, back when she was still in training to take over the business. Back when your relationship was in an awkward place.

During your small moment of reminiscing, you feel the bed shifting. The warm heat of Natasha’s skin against yours and the faint feeling of her breathing gets you to crack your eyes open to be greeted with her patiently awaiting your gaze. “Hey.” Your groggy greeting is cut off forcefully by Natasha’s lips smashing into yours. She pulls back looking you over as her nimble fingers ghost over your skin, over every mark on your neck and chest. She’s satisfied with her work tonight. She gives you a few more kisses before pulling you close to her side of the bed and turning the lights off. “Y/n.”

“Hm?” You hum in response while she rubs your back soothingly. “You're the only one for me." She wants to say, “I’m sorry I fucked up for me to realize that.” But she doesn’t want to get deep into that conversation right now. She doesn’t want to be vulnerable and open; she'll save it for another day. “Sleep.” Not long after that you were out cold.

----------------

The next time you shift in bed your eyes are halfway open. You notice Natasha is still sitting up with her back against the headboard talking in a hushed whisper. She hears you stirring beside her. She doesn’t want you awake, she doesn’t want you to hear the conversation. Panic bells sound off inside of your head anytime she gets a phone call in the early hours of the morning. “Let me guess, vacation is over.” Your voice still dripped with slumber but it wasn’t a question it was more of confirmation, confirmation that usually results in you being tossed to the side and neglected. Natasha pauses the conversation you weren’t too focused on trying to hear. You were nearly on your way back to sleep. “No, baby, just go back to sleep.” She gives you a soft kiss to distract your curiosity so you fall asleep without any hesitation or any push back.

The next time you wake up you hear voices, and you feel yourself being moved around. The cool breeze hits your face, but you still remain with low lidded eyes. You’re not in danger, you would know if you were. The hands that hold on to you and occasionally caress your face weren’t unfamiliar ones. You could spot them instantly; you drift back off to sleep with the reassurance of a body nestled close to yours and warmth radiating into you. You wake up feeling the aftereffects from the evening you had last night with Natasha. You stretch your arms out while remaining to keep your eyes shut. You feel the bed for Natasha’s body and freeze when you come up empty. She wasn’t here.

You vaguely remember being put in the car and seeing your luggage being carried out of the penthouse. You sit up in bed with pinched brows after you’re aware of your surroundings, you search for your cell phone and find it on the side table plugged into the charger. Most of the messages were from Yelena and a few emails about your new night club. You were just about to call Natasha’s phone to demand answers about the change in location when you heard voices above you on the top deck of the yacht. Not only is Natasha standing there but she has Bucky and Clint with her as well. This was supposed to be a trip away from the mob life and that includes them. You storm up the last few stairs towards her. She knew you’d be yelling at her sooner or later after you woke up.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I thought this was our vacation time?” You cross your arms as you await her answer while also being aware of the extra bodies that were not supposed to be present. “Good morning to you too honey, I slept great thanks for asking.”

“Don’t fuck with me, I’m not in the mood to play with you right now Natasha.”

“We’re still on vacation…this needed to be dealt with immediately.” Her response doesn’t do anything for you to ease up on her. “Oh, c’mon sweet face, I thought this would be better by settling this here so we wouldn’t have to cut our trip short.” She rubs your waist and kisses your face hoping it will cool your temper. “You couldn’t have handled it at the penthouse?”

“You’d rather have me do that in a place where we lay our heads?”

“Natasha, we’re in fucking madripoor! Shit happens here every hour on the hour! Packing me and our things away at the ass crack of dawn for this? was not necessary!”

“Will you relax? You’re always complaining about me being romantic. Well, I was trying to be spontaneous while also getting things done efficiently!”

“Nothing about this is romantic and your whole excuse is a cop out.”

“Surprising you with a morning on a yacht isn’t romantic?”

“Don’t condescend me Natasha, it was the way you did things while also having an ulterior motive behind it.” Natasha grabs your hand before you walk away from her. Linking her fingers through yours and somehow your eyes drift up her body just in time to see the flex of her muscles in the tank top she was wearing. “Calm down, have some breakfast. I have all of your favorites prepared Already. This is not the end of our trip, it's more of a small interruption.” “Fine.” You turn your face away from her and start moving towards the kitchen area for some breakfast. if you were going to be around for this you were not doing it on an empty stomach. Natasha stops you and places her lips to the shell of your ear. “It won’t take long I promise.” She kisses your neck. “We can go back to our room and make that champagne and ice bucket useful, hm?”

“No, absolutely not you’re not touching me after last night, I’m still sore.” You brush past her as she scoffs and glares at you, you can say that now but maybe when she’s finished, you’ll change your mind. Natasha walks back to the group at the seating area and picks up a few pieces of fruit as the paranoid man sits in silence. “It’s my understanding that I haven’t received your payment.” She holds her hand up when the man attempts to speak, no doubt to apologize or make an excuse for his actions. “I don’t want excuses” Natasha doesn’t like pity and she doesn’t like excuses. You'd be lucky enough for her to even ask you for a solution instead of killing you. Charles stupidly ignores her response hoping she’d be able to understand when she hears the full story and his side of things.

“We’ve been having a tough time at the shop and-“ Her fists cut his words short he wasn’t even aware of when she stood up to even get near him. “I thought I just said I didn’t want to hear any excuses.” Natasha sighs with disappointment as she checks her nails like the narcissist she is. “You interrupted my lovely trip with my sweet face over there.” She points to you while you sit at the counter sipping your orange juice. “This was not the way she was supposed to be waking up, Charles. Do you understand my dilemma here?” The man hesitated to answer Natasha. The question was dripping with a sexual undertone, not knowing if he would end up with a bullet between his eyes for answering truthfully. “I-“ Natasha delights in his uneasiness to reply, one wrong word would set her off completely, changing the mood of this meeting. “It’s okay, you can answer.”

“I understand, trust me.” He takes a little too long to turn his attention back to her. So, she grabs him by the collar. “Aren’t you going to apologize?” She tilts her head hovering above him. “I-I apologize for the intrus-“ the back of her hand makes contact with his face. “Not to me you fucking idiot!” She grabs his face and turns it towards your direction. “To her.” You grow awkward with the man’s eyes on you while you are trying to eat. “I’m sorry.” “She can’t hear you! Say it louder!” You heard his apology but you wanted to be left alone for now. After having a week of silence and wild nights with Natasha you weren’t ready for things to start going back to normal. You weren’t ready to go back home and fall into the same pattern again. “I’m so sorry” fully catching your attention you flip him off in response and go back to eating and drinking your juice. He turns around to look at Natasha for what to do next. She insists on him trying again for an apology. Shooing him away with her hands. He moves further into the kitchen area as you eat your breakfast. Unfazed by his presence. “Um miss I wanted to sincerely apologize for-“ his apology was stopped abruptly when the weight of the waffle iron collided with his face. “What the hell!” He shouts out in agony clutching his broken nose on the floor.

“Why the hell are you in my face? You already ruined my morning, now you’re going to ruin my breakfast too?” You grab him by the collar of his shirt. “No, that was not my intention.” Even if he was telling the truth, you were still pissed about it, so you use this opportunity to use him as a punching bag. Throwing multiple punches to his already broken and bruised face. Clint once again steps next to Natasha. “You just gonna let her do that? We don’t need him dead, Nat.” Natasha looks at Clint with a smirk on her face. She honestly loved that you let out your dark side more now. “I suppose you’re right, but I just love seeing my sweet face go sour and bad for a bit.” Clint makes a face of disgust.

“Please spare me the details of you and y/n’s psycho relationship dynamic, I already told you that you two need therapy like yesterday.” She rolls her eyes and walks away. You stop your attack on his face and you hold him up by the collar of his blood-stained shirt. The small blade presses against his skin; you trail the sharp knife down his cheek and stop at the curve of his neck. “What type of work do you do?” He seems caught off guard with that question as he nervously licks his lips. He doesn’t know if he is supposed to look at you or keep his eyes trained on the cabinets. “I own a butcher shop.”

“Oh, this is perfect.” You take pride in his blatant display of confusion and fear. “You cut and trim meat all day, what’s so hard about that?” You don't give him a chance to reply to you, not that he would even dare try to respond to that loaded question. “Since you’re a butcher I’m sure you’re aware that a single incorrect cut could ruin a good piece of meat.” He stares up at you in pain and confusion as you tilt your head adding more pressure behind the knife. Natasha arrives in the kitchen area just in time.

“Okay, that’s enough, buttercup.” She pulls your back to her front and holds you in place. “Put the knife down.” She rubs your body soothingly to bring you back to a calm state. It takes you a few seconds, but you eventually flick the blade back into its safety pocket and place it into Natasha’s hands and let the man go in the process. As she puts the small knife in her pocket Natasha looks down at the bloody figure on the floor. “I know how much you wanted to cool off a bit, I don’t know what possessed him to bother you.” She snuggles her face closer to your neck inhaling deeply, She loved the scent of you. As Natasha was distracted the man quickly defended himself once again.

“You literally told me to come over here and apologize!” He shouts out at her stupidly once again not knowing how dangerous that is. “No, I don’t think I did, actually.” Instead, she replies back with a cool and calm demeanor she wanted to see if you’d attack him again. ”Yes you did!” Charles shouts back defensively and Natasha kicks him in the face “Shut up!” You crane your neck to watch Natasha’s body language. “Don’t listen to him baby Especially since I know how grumpy you get when something interrupts our plans.” She softly kisses your neck when she’s done telling the lie. You take a moment to look down at your silk pajamas and groan frustration.

“He got his blood all over my new pajamas, now we have to buy another set of matching ones.” Natasha just chuckles at your response. Blaming that poor man for getting blood on your expensive robe when you were the cause of it being there in the first place. She loved it. Part of her wished your father would’ve made you more involved with the mob activities like she had to. She would’ve had this sight of you way early on into the relationship, but she loves you just the way you are right now. “Don’t worry about it. We can buy all the matching pajamas you want, I’ll take care of it.”

“Yeah, you will especially since this is your fault for sending him over here in my goddamn face in the first place.”

“See, I told you!” You both speak at the same time. “Shut up!” When the man quiets down Natasha doesn’t try to deny it this time she just laughs and pulls you closer to her. Of course, you knew she was lying. “I’m sorry, I just thought you wanted to let some anger out and I was clearly right.”

“How thoughtful of you.” You gently pat her cheek. “I know.” She leans forward placing her lips on yours. She growls in surprise when you take control, shoving your tongue down her throat. Backing her up into the counter and harshly biting her lip. “Don’t tease me right now dekta.”

“Can you two stop sucking face? We have import shit to deal with here!” Bucky was getting annoyed. From the time being wasted and just from seeing you two showing public displays of affection. You clench your jaw, looking over Natasha’s shoulder. Who the hell did he think he was? You pick up an empty champagne flute and launch it at Bucky. “Shut the fuck up!” He dodges the glass before it makes contact. Clint pulls Bucky aside with force. “You seriously need to let it go, Buck.” Clint harshly whispers to him. He snatches his arm from Clint and goes to sit down on the padded couch. Seeing him be seated like a good little guard dog that he should be. As Clint snatches the man from the floor and away from the kitchen area you focus back on your girlfriend. “Finish everything up here and I’ll be downstairs. Don’t take too long though, I’m not promising to keep my hands off.” You slide your hand underneath the silk waistband of her pajamas. Natasha’s eyes blown wide, she couldn’t wait to get this over with to have you screaming out in pleasure and pain once again. You bring your hand back out into the open. Natasha licks her lips at the glistening wet slick dripping down your fingers. You place your fingers on her lips. She welcomes them openly, sucking the flavorful juices off your fingers. You lean in ghostly whispering against her lips.

“If you get this handled quickly the next time, we kiss I’ll have the taste of your cum on my lips.” Her breath hitches and she’s more determined to get this shit done now more than ever. Hell, she might even give him more time and just have Clint and Bucky take Charles back home. That would be the only time she would show forgiveness. The only time she’d be so lenient to someone who wronged her.

Natasha makes her way back to the seating area; she makes a show to whistle from your previous actions. “Yeah, she’s pissed. I was going to put on a show for her but I’m feeling merciful and gracious.” She pops a few pieces of fruit in her mouth and turns directly to face the bruised and bloody man. “So, let’s talk about how you’re going to move forward to get me the money that I’m owed and how you’re gonna pay extra for this inconvenience, shall we?”

They found a way to come to an agreement and the instant that the problem had been solved Natasha jumped up from her seat with haste and intended to run downstairs to you. “Natasha, we have another problem.”

------------

“No, we just fixed it…any other problems can wait until tomorrow or until I officially return from my vacation.”

“Uh, Nat you’re not listening…”

“And you’re not listening to me Clint, this trip was to make things up to y/n, and I don’t need calls interrupting the time I made for her. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have holes that I need to fill downstairs and you’re making me late.” Clint visibly gags and Natasha’s satisfied with his reaction to walk away from him to leave him with that burning image. “Jesus! Keep that to yourself I swear to God I’m this close to ditching my earring aids whenever I’m on duty! and I’m serious Nat it’s about Alexei.” Just as she was walking away from him she stops in her tracks as soon as he mentions the name. She slowly turns around to face him and a silent Bucky. “What kind of problem is it?”

Time passes longer than you would’ve liked but once again you were used to it. This trip did nothing but show you the reality of your life and your relationship. You could never truly get away from this lifestyle. You quickly change into normal clothes, your mood has drastically changed and the likelihood of your girlfriend returning to you anytime soon was uncommon. As expected when the bedroom door opens you know it’s Natasha and you know she’s come to tell you the bad news but what she doesn’t expect is for you to already have the bags packed and ready to be put into the car. Her apology falls dead on the tip of her tongue as you cut her off before she even had the chance to release it. “I don’t want to hear it.” Your response is cold and calm, two signs she’s much familiar with now, you could snap at any moment. Which furthers the internal need to be close to you she knows there’s a chance of a fight happening, an item being thrown at her hell you could be hiding a knife somewhere just waiting to make your move. She ignores her thoughts and cautiously takes small steps towards you at a time.

“Hey, it’s another emergency that needs to be addressed and it’s much bigger than what happened this morning.” You don’t say anything to her as you sit in silence on the edge of the bed. She tries to be near you to bring you some sort of comfort, but you stand up and head for the door with your luggage in hand. “I told you I don’t want to hear it; I don’t want to hear excuses.” Natasha already felt bad and now you’re using her own shit against her which makes her feel even worse. She reached for you hoping you’d let her explain the situation further. Maybe it’ll ease the pain if you knew just how dire it was to fly back home. All she got in return was a stinging slap to the face before you stormed out of the room with your luggage completely. Natasha wasn’t expecting it but she isn’t mad at it, you’re upset, angry and hurt. She knows you’re not letting it all out, so a slap to the face is something she’d have to endure. She grabs a duffel bag and tells Bucky and Clint to get the rest of the luggage as she follows after you.

You remained silent in the car as Clint and Natasha discussed business matters. You settle for keeping your focus on the car window knowing Natasha is staring at you intently waiting for you to address her. To say something. Anything. She leans closer to you, and you counter her movements by sliding closer to the door. She tries again by placing her hand on your thigh to silently apologize for cutting the trip short. You remove her hand immediately. In your eyes it looked like she lied about what happened earlier, which in truth she didn’t lie, things just played out that way. How Inconvenient for her. She leaves you to deal with your emotions and goes to her phone texting Yelena about your incoming attitude and about this meeting that Alexei demanded to have.

------------

You make your way onto the private jet, and you still have not said one word to Natasha other than your outburst from earlier. You flop down in the seat after taking a sucker from the candy bowl and popping it into your mouth. Natasha brings two champagne flutes over as she sits next to you. She asks you something and your only response is to grab the abandoned pair of headphones and turn the volume up to true maximum level to drown out her repeating apologies. “Can I have some?” She removes the left side of your headphones to speak directly into your ear. When she has your attention, she nods to the candy that’s in your mouth. You roll your eyes and hand her the bowl only she never reaches for it. Instead, she goes for the sucker in your mouth, and she reaches for the end of the stick. Lightly tugging on it for you to release it from your tight grasp. Making a sound of annoyance and disapproval you swat her prying hands away.

“You’re not gonna share with me?” You once again shove the bowl of candy near Natasha, and she still doesn’t budge. That’s not what she wanted. This was her way of getting you to interact with her. To acknowledge her. It’s not the first time something so childish as candy could bring you back from a fit of rage and anger and back into her embrace of understanding and forgiveness. A little lighthearted interaction to let her know how deep in shit she was truly in once the two of you were back home and things went back to the everyday routine. Natasha makes a disapproving noise and tosses the candy bowl on the empty seat next to her. She’s had enough of your attitude and your unwillingness to hear her out, this wasn’t like any other excuse that truly needed her presence. Natasha quickly grips your face and turns your attention back on her.

“I didn’t plan this. Trust me I would rather still be on that yacht with you right now, but this is serious." You shrug her off of you, annoyed with her cryptic responses, she never really goes into detail about why things were serious or so urgent that you sit at the dinner table alone most nights. You remove the candy from your mouth and lick your lips, an action Natasha focuses on intensely. “You still haven’t told me what’s so serious that you cut our vacation short, a vacation I only got because you let Stark get in your head and you couldn’t keep your hands off of an attention seeking whore!” Your voice raises in volume and Clint and Bucky share a look but they remain in their seats unbothered. They’re pretty much used to the outbursts between you two and they’ll only intervene if Natasha tells them to. Meanwhile you lean away from her and place the candy back into your mouth seemingly being done with this conversation. Natasha rubs her face harshly and exhales a deep breath that she’s been holding since she got the news. Natasha calms her nerves trying to stay on her new path by managing her temper. She’s trying her best to communicate properly. “It has to do with Alexei.”

“Alexei?!” You could’ve cut the inside of your mouth with how fast you pulled the candy out of your mouth from hearing his name. She nods her head and swigs down her champagne. She was nervous. “You know just as much as anybody how dreadful this surprise meeting is going to be for me.” Natasha hasn’t spoken to Alexei directly in a long time and she hasn’t seen him in the flesh for even longer. The two of them never got along and when Natasha started to rebel against him and his orders, that caused the drift between them. The final straw that broke the camel's back was her continuing to defy him by being in a relationship with you. Once he found out about you two, things changed. He treated you differently, he deemed you as a distraction to his daughter. Of course, his attitude could only be expressed slightly back then with your father still being around and being the man in charge but once he was murdered, Alexei didn’t hold his tongue any longer. He had free reign to say anything he wanted. He Finally got to release the built-up aggression that built up over the years starting from the moment you came back, and the moment Natasha set her eyes on you.

The harsh and cruel words spewing out of his mouth no longer held back in the depths of his throat. The words remained there from the first day he caught you and Natasha together. The memories brought back pain not just yours but Natasha’s as well. You saw how she was treated by that man for as long as you’ve known her. You finally turn your whole body to her and the first thing you can see is the sincerity in her eyes. “I know.” You say with softness and love. You hold your hand out to her and she doesn’t touch you. You move your hand closer to her, placing it in her lap. “Are you gonna hold my hand or what?”

“That depends if you’re gonna slap me again or not.” You shake your head ‘no’ in response and she links her fingers with yours. Now you feel bad for slapping her knowing she has Alexei on her brain already, that abuse was enough on its own, even though your feelings and reaction was valid you needed to apologize. “I’m sorry for that by the way.” You use your other hand to rub against the cheek you previously struck. “No, you aren’t.” She cracks a smile and you return the same mirrored emotion back at her. “Okay, maybe not completely but I’m sorry for not hearing you out earlier.” You slowly exhale, lowering your gaze down to your abandoned hand on Natasha’s lap. “I was just really starting to get used to this kind of lifestyle.”

“You’ve always had a luxury lifestyle, what are you talking about?”

“Not that, I meant being normal. Having a normal and domestic lifestyle, that doesn’t involve waking up to random strangers in our living room or having to be pulled away from vacation after the shit I had to go through to even get here.” You take a brief moment to calm down. You weren’t trying to start another argument with her, not after you know what awaits her when this private jet lands. The mindset and preparation she has to readjust to. You feel the warm embrace of her hand in yours. Natasha gives you a firm and comforting squeeze before she finally links her fingers with yours. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I know I’ll never be able to truly escape it but it would be nice to put things on pause more often and just...get away.” You look to Natasha to answer your response as if your statement was a question. She understands perfectly without the use of your voice. She’s known how long you’ve wanted to get away and it was always put on the back burner, had she known that a vacation trip meant this much to you, your passport would’ve been overfilled with stamps by now. She feels guilty for neglecting you and not being attentive to your needs. All she had to do was make a call and everything you wanted would be everything you’d have. “We’ll take more trips…I promise.” You give her an annoyed look, it's something you’ve heard before and you’d rather not hear the lie again. “I’m serious, if you want to take a trip just book a flight or call Fitz to have the jet ready and we’ll go wherever you want.”

“Tash, you talk a sweet game, but we both know how this will play out.”

“I’m making changes, I’ve put in the effort and I’ve owned up to my mistakes. I’m being serious, I really mean it this time.” You hum with satisfaction as you see new determination in her eyes. Your hand tugs the collar of her shirt forward, you hold eye contact for a moment before your lips ghost over hers. “Next time something like this happens just tell me straight up, and don’t start with apologies. Do you understand Natalia? She smirks against your lips as they slightly graze each other. “Yes, my love.”

“Good.” You say, softly and finally lean forward to peck her lips you pull away way too soon for Natasha to even get started on her attack. You pull away with a smug smile while Natasha licks her lips tasting the remnants of sweetness from the cherry blow pop, she was practically begging for moments ago. “I’m stressed out over here and you’re teasing me?”

“You’re right” you go in for another kiss, but this time Natasha pulls you in and holds your face in place as she deepens the kiss. It’s sloppy and desperate, which is another silent sign that means she needs comfort and support right now. when you try pulling away again, she places her hand around your neck giving you a subtle squeeze as a warning to keep still. Natasha makes sure to savor the artificial flavor as she strokes her tongue around every part inside of your mouth. The noises you two pull from each other caused Clint to fully turn his hearing aids off and Bucky turns his headphones on max volume to drown out the lewd sounds. When she finally lets you come up for air, she admires your dazed expression and goes back to drinking her champagne as if nothing just happened.

“You just tried to kill me!” You say as you finally get the sensation of oxygen coming in again. she chuckles and turns her head towards you. “It’s your fault for not sharing with me.” Is all she says before shrugging her shoulders and sighing before she makes a move to get up. You quickly place your hand on hers stopping her movements, a silent question hung in the air about why she’s leaving her seat. “I need to plan things out with Clint and buck” you move your hand and silently nod in agreement but before she leaves you beckon her with your finger for one more kiss which she happily obliged to.

After a few playful nips and bites, you both pull away and you place the blow pop against Natasha’s wet lips. “I also forgot to mention that Alexei is meeting at our house tonight for dinner.” The moments of normalcy and domestication were over, now things were officially going back to what you've been used to since you were born. You just hope and pray that no one ends up dead but maybe that's asking for far too much when Alexei is at the center of the equation.

#damage control au #natasha romanoff x reader #mob!natasha x reader

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cobaltperun · 4 months

Text

Lost (11) - Into you

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 4.7k

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-You said, "Time to tear down the walls You know not every thing's your fault-

You felt like your entire body was one giant bruise. 'I am never training like that again,' you thought bitterly, thinking of the training from hell Thomas put you through. Intense, long, with barely any rest, and painful. What was that asshole's problem, anyway? Was he salty over not 'making history' so he wanted to push that on you instead? Ah, whatever, it was over now. You'd have to rest for at least two more days before you could handle driving for over five hours to travel from Vegas to Woodsboro, as much as that would delay seeing Tara.

Which was probably for the best because if Tara saw the state you were in, she'd probably finish you off herself. With how beaten and tired you were she probably could do it as well.

So, instead of getting up, you just turned in your bed and went back to sleep. You still groaned at the flash of pain caused by mere movement. If it was just training you probably could have taken it for a bit longer, but the fight sealed the deal.

How the mighty have fallen. Oh, if people could see you now, you likely wouldn't be able to live that down.

~X~

Luck really didn't want to cooperate with you lately. You got set back a day and were just now leaving Vegas and you'd be lucky to get to Woodsboro at five in the morning, it would be the thirteenth of December and you'd have less than a day to clear up the situation between you and Tara like a well-adjusted adult and not a kid that could only sulk and brood.

You'd go to your apartment, drop your things off, collect your thoughts and arguments, and go to Tara's place first thing in the morning. If, no when things went well, you'd be able to, maybe consider confessing sometime after this whole mess of a year ends. Maybe a bit sooner, depending on how things go when you finally see Tara again.

You should have known by now not to make plans. At half past five in the morning, you unlocked the doors to your apartment dead tired and wondering if maybe you should take a small nap so you wouldn't be a blubbering mess when you finally got to talk to Tara.

You tossed the bag to the floor and basically on autopilot went to the bathroom. You barely managed to wash your hands and face when the doors opened.

"Y/N?" Tara's voice woke you up better than any cold water. Especially since you weren't ready for her right away. She just stood there, looking as surprised as you were. For a moment, with your shirt on her, you were reminded of the night you gave her the necklace meant for her eighteenth birthday. She looked... just a bit different, with her hair covering her forehead now, you wondered when that happened. Her leg was fine now, but you saw she was leaning more of her weight on her left foot, it probably turned into a habit while her leg was broken.

More importantly, she looked sleep-deprived, as if she had been struggling with insomnia for a long time. She probably did. You approached her, forgetting all your plans in an instant, and the moment she was within arm's reach she just reached out and hugged you. "Tara," you sighed, feeling the weight of the past few months fade away as you buried your face in her neck.

"You're back," she whispered gently kissing along the scar on your face. Your body healed, for the most part, the swelling was gone, there was a bit of pain and soreness, but you were fairly fine. The kisses, damn, you've had your fair share of burns in the kitchen, but they felt hotter against your skin than any hot metal you touched by accident.

"Yeah, and I'm not leaving, okay?" you felt her nod before she pulled back, lightly touching all the spots on your face where you got hit. There was only one explanation for how she knew where to touch you. "You've seen the fight," that must have been difficult for her. You knew how much she hated seeing you fight, seeing you get hurt, so for her to watch the hardest fight of your life… you didn’t even dare to imagine how much stress she experienced.

"I had to. I took that from you," she avoided meeting your eyes after she said that.

You would have groaned two months ago. Or maybe you would have sighed. Or reacted in a similar way to that. Not today. You just caressed the side of her neck, feeling her lean into your touch despite the way she felt. Good, it wouldn't be a repeat of the last time. Slowly you moved your thumb just underneath her chin and nudged it just barely enough for Tara to register it and tilt her head up. "Please, look at me, Tara," she did, but you could see the hesitation in her eyes. "It's a bit cold, hm?" it was as if she just remembered you were in the bathroom, and it was the middle of December.

There was a hint of reluctance in Tara's eyes as she released you from the hug. If it was any other moment, you'd probably pull her back in and lift her up, but right now you were perfectly content with letting her hold your hand and lead you to the bed.

"Sorry, it's a bit of a mess," you could see the tips of her ears turning red. It was adorable and you couldn't resist pulling her back to you.

"Nah, I think it's perfect," there was some mess, mostly a bunch of your shirts on the bed as well as Tara's laptop on the nightstand. It was good that you were a bit minimalistic with your things. With Tara's things mixed in with your own, it felt almost a bit cramped, and you just mentally confirmed that this wasn't exactly an apartment meant for two people constantly living together. That was the issue for another day, now that you could properly take your apartment in you realized Tara's been living there for at least some time. "Did something happen?"

"No. Yes. I," she paused, debating whether or not she should tell you whatever happened. "It can wait," she chose not to.

You sighed and she squirmed a bit, your breath probably tickled her neck. She would have been so cute if she didn't just basically tell you that something did happen, but she'd tell you later... "Oh, you little..." You grabbed the blanket and sat down on the sofa with Tara right on your lap.

Tara placed her hands on top of yours before you could cover the two of you with the blanket. "Give me a second," she turned around, straddling your lap. "All set," she smiled, somehow looking confident and still a bit bashful at the same time.

You nodded, pulling the blanket around her and then resting your arms on the small of her back. "Right, how does talking things through sound like?" you hated how hesitant you sounded there, hated how you felt her get still in your arms.

"Yeah. You left your phone behind," at least that was an easy thing to start with.

"I did," you wanted to talk, here, you had your talk. "There was a chance I would have come back if I heard your voice," especially now that you realized something did happen while you were away.

"And not hearing me helped? Do you know how worried I was?" the fear and frustration, all the worry she felt before she likely found your phone, you felt it all, you heard it in her voice, saw it in her eyes, felt it in the way her fingertips dug into your back.

"It did and I knew you'd be. Tara, you saw my schedule, you saw the last fight. If I had gone in any less prepared, I would have lost. I couldn't afford to keep my phone with me," you explained, not for a moment taking your eyes off her own. "If I could call you, I would have. If I called you, you'd see how I was after training. You'd get worried. You'd insist on coming to see me, or worse, that I come back, and I'd agree because I'd miss you even more after hearing your voice," that was the reasoning you had even before you experienced just how grueling the training was. It only proved to be correct when the training began, and you honestly wondered if you'd survive it. It was incredibly effective, but if you never had to think back to it again, you'd be thankful for the rest of your life.

Tara paused for a moment, taking what you said in. "Was it that bad?"

"Let's just say I think I prefer being stabbed and shot," you weren't even joking, your pain tolerance was through the roof at this point. It all just caught up with you after the fight and Anya hit like a truck.

You could immediately see the concern on Tara's face as she pulled back slightly and tugged at your forearm. You got the message and moved your left hand until she could look at it. Her hands trembled as she traced the tiny scars littering your fist, barely ghosting over the more recent scrapes. There was no way she could hurt you; it was all healed for the most part, in a day or two anything that wouldn't leave a scar would be gone. The effect it had on her was obvious and you knew she now understood why you left the phone behind.

"For what it's worth, I wished I could be with you every day," you whispered, bringing your hand back to the small of her back, as she moved a bit closer to you but not as close as before.

"Me too. I'm so sorry I told you to leave," there was an intensity in her gaze you hadn't seen in a while. You felt the tension you couldn't quite explain, and you were suddenly more aware of the position you two were in, with her only in your shirt and underwear, straddling your lap.

"I would have had to leave anyway," somehow you figured she already knew that, and you were proven right when she nodded.

"I still told you to leave me. I don't want that. I don't want to imagine my life without you, Y/N," something in her words made you involuntarily jerk and push her hips forward and you saw her eyes flickering down for a moment.

Focusing on what was more important than physical contact between you two, you continued the conversation. "Why didn't you accept that I was fine with retiring?" you finally asked the question that had been on your mind ever since her reaction.

Tara bit her lower lip, pausing, probably to find the exact words she needed. "You love MMA and you retired because of me, because you had to protect me from my crazy girlfriend and her crazy boyfriend," the frustration in Tara's voice was palpable. "I felt guilty, I am guilty. I just," a tear slid down her cheek. "If you were angry, if you blamed me, that would make sense, but you were calm and it was my fault and it scared me," she hid her face in the crook of your neck.

"Easy, easy, I got you," you whispered softly as you rubbed circles on her back.

"It frightened me that you could be just telling me you were fine to protect me," she more or less told you the same thing she did before you left.

"Tara," you tried, but a finger against your lips stopped you.

"More than even that, I was afraid of you actually being fine with it," those words surprised you.

"Wouldn't that be good?" you asked despite the finger on your lips.

Tara shook her head. "No, because it means so much to you and you'd be fine with losing it for me."

You sighed, fully understanding what was going through her head that night now. "MMA was a way to bond with Zack at first. At that point, he already retired, due to his health. In a way I guess I understood on some instinctual level that he was living vicariously through me by training me."

Words you said to Sam were words you realized shortly after you learned you could be facing retirement. "Love built on guilt leads to regret. That's my MMA career, Tara, something born out of guilt, because Zack couldn't live out his dream and I had the chance to do it," you never said it, you never admitted this to anyone, not only because you didn’t want to talk about Zack, but because somehow, saying that almost felt like betraying him. But you nearly lost Tara and everything else became less important to you after that.

Tara looked you in the eyes, her own wide as the smile spread across your lips. "There's no denying that I love MMA itself, but training and making a living out of it are two entirely different things. I don't need to fight in the octagon to be passionate about my training," you raised your hand, wiping the few tears from her cheeks. "There's no way that career would ever be more important than you," there, you said it, you admitted what you've been feeling ever since you were told you'd have to retire.

"Y/N," it was your turn to press your finger against her lips.

"I mean, yes, I care about that as well, I'm proud of what I accomplished, there's a thrill in the fighting that I'd never find in training, but compared to you? It's insignificant. It's not worth losing you, Tara, there's nothing worth losing you," you could only hope she'd believe you, you could only hope that she’d accept the truth.

She placed her hand on your cheek. "Promise me you'll always tell me if you aren't fine," there was definitiveness in her voice, faith in her eyes, you just needed to reassure her of that one last thing.

"I promise I will. As long as you do the same, so, how about you start by telling me what happened?" you nudged her lightly, trying to remain relaxed, even if you were worried.

"I cut contact with mom when-" Tara didn't get to finish that sentence.

You leaned back and abruptly pumped your fists above your head. "Finally! Fucking finally!" you proclaimed and pulled Tara in, kissed her forehead, and ruffled her hair a bit. "That's my girl! Damn, that took a while!" a thought suddenly popped in your head, so you slapped your forehead and leaned back once again, grumbling. "Shit, I missed it."

Tara went from surprised, to incredulous, to amused as she shook her head. "Y/N," she jokingly slapped your biceps. She really should have known you'd react like this.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm just happy you're out of there," you smiled sheepishly.

"She cut contact with Sam, so I cut contact with her in response," Tara explained and you nodded, calm once again.

"My excitement aside, how are you feeling?" you asked, completely serious now.

Tara sighed, snuggling closer to you. "I really hoped things could be fixed, you know. I know that's naive, that things were never good between them ever since dad left, but I still hoped. I can't leave Sam, though. I don't want her to deal with things alone again," her voice didn't crack, but you could hear she was fighting back tears.

"She won't. She has you," you assured her, feeling her breath shudder against your neck.

"I know. Anyway, I moved here because I wanted you near me, and this was the closest I could get. I know you said I could stay here to Sam, but, you don't mind, do you?" she lifted her head just enough to look you in the eyes once again.

"Of course, I don't mind," with those words providing Tara with all the peace she needed the two of you just relaxed, holding each other as close as physically possible until the first hints of sunlight began seeping through the window. "Think we should move to bed? Maybe sleep for at least a couple of hours?" you suggested.

Tara just lazily nodded, letting you handle all of it. And you did just that. You lowered her down on the bed and were about to lay down next to her when an arm around your neck held you back. "Y/N," she brushed her fingers against your lower lips. "Let's just stop pretending we don't want this."

Everything else vanished, leaving only the desire burning in Tara's eyes, the desire you were sure was present in your eyes as well. You placed your hand next to Tara's head, to keep yourself from pressing too much of your weight on Tara and leaned down. She met you in the middle, eagerly pressing her lips against your own.

You let her lead, feeling her eagerness to finally kiss you with every move of her lips, feeling it in the way she moaned into the kiss as she wrapped her legs around your hips, pulling you closer. Feeling it in the way her left hand pressed against your back, or the way her right hand frantically went from your neck to your cheek, to the back of your head, then beneath the collar of your shirt. You felt it in the way she moaned into the kiss when you slid your palm down her side, all the way to her naked thigh. The oversized shirt she stole from you rising as Tara pressed her hips against you made your head spin.

You growled, deepening the kiss, and gently nibbling Tara's lower lip as your fingers made contact with the waistband of Tara's underwear. Tara leaned her head back, abruptly letting it fall back on the pillow, moaning softly when you rested your palm right against the bare small of her back and pulled her in, smiling as she rolled her hips against you.

"Y/N," she breathed out as you kissed her neck, tugging on your jacket.

That seemed to snap you out of it for a moment and you pulled back enough to look her in the eyes. "Are we going too fast? Do you want me to stop?" you just kissed for the first time and already you were making out, and given the way things were going, you likely weren’t going to stop there unless you stopped right now.

"No, please don't stop. Just, your clothes," Tara was quick to reassure you.

That almost instantly flipped the switch and you leaned in to kiss her again, taking your time and committing the feel of her lips to your memory, memorizing every twitch of her body underneath your own before letting her breathe once more. "What about my clothes?" you whispered into her ear.

"Y/N!" Tara whined, prompting a smirk from you. If your arm wasn't planted so firmly on the bed you were sure she'd try to take your jacket off herself, but as it was she'd need your help.

"What about my clothes, love?" you peppered small kisses all over her neck. "Talk to me, Tara."

"Take them off, already!" okay, less teasing, you'd have to remember that.

"As you wish," you briefly kissed her and pulled back, slipping your hand from her back and slowly getting back up.

Tara grabbed onto your back, annoyed at reduced contact, but you just grinned, pulling her arms away from your back and kissing the inside of her left forearm, kissing up to her wrist, all the way to her palm. She watched you intensely as you kissed her palm a few times, completely still as you moved her hands above her head and leaned in. "Patience, Tara," she hummed at that, relaxing, trusting you.

"I've been patient, Y/N," she complained, but this time allowed you to pull away and kneel above her, smiling widely as she watched you take your jacket off. There was no stopping this now, both of you wanted, no, needed this.

~X~

It rarely happened, but for once Tara woke up before you. There wasn't much she could do about it; mornings were evil and you somehow could function that early. Disciplined jerk. Her disciplined jerk. Officially her disciplined jerk. She smiled at that.

She untangled her body from your own and checked the time, only to be met with at least a dozen missed calls and frantic messages from Mindy and Chad telling her to call Sam. She checked your phone and found an identical situation. The last message from Mindy made her blood run cold. 'Sam is on her way to your apartment! Call her!'

Tara quickly called her sister and, unsurprisingly, had to move the phone away from her ear when Sam began yelling.

"Why aren't you picking up your phone?!" this was not how Tara wanted to start her day. Or continue her day? She wasn't entirely sure. "I'll be in your apartment in two minutes, you better have an explanation for this."

"No!" she cried out so loudly you jumped out of the bed ready to punch whatever made Tara scream. Tara wasn't sure whether to laugh at you or cry at the idea of Sam coming to your place right now. "Don't come here! Please, I'm fine! I'm sorry I overslept!" this was definitely not the moment she wanted to spend with her sister, or anyone other than you, really.

You came back to bed and hugged her, and she felt a bit better as she felt your touch against her bare skin. The realization then skyrocketed her worry because there was no way she’d have time to get decent before Sam came in. "Sam?" you whispered softly as Sam kept insisting she was almost at your door.

Tara nodded and you placed your hand on her phone, silently requesting to take it. Tara gladly gave it to you. "Sam, it's Y/N, let us sleep, see you tomorrow," for a moment Tara wondered if she ever told you how much she liked the sound of your voice immediately after you woke up.

"Sam, you're like my second favorite person in the world, but if you don't let me spend the day with Tara, I will absolutely take your spare key away," it was an empty threat, all three of you knew it. You've given Sam your spare key just in case, but you weren't going to take it away. Sam definitely knew it as she unlocked your doors. "Fuck off, Sam, we overslept, had a long night, figure the rest out yourself!" you finally snapped when not even the empty threat helped.

You hung up. Tara moved so she could hide behind you for at least some semblance of decency. The doors, however, got locked once again and you heard a muffled and embarrassed 'Sorry!'

With crisis averted Tara fell back on the bed, tugging you down with her.

"Well, this is a fun way to start our morning," you muttered into her neck as she leaned back, smiling brightly as you left kisses from her neck all the way to her lips. The kiss was soft, slow and gentle, and Tara pushed her body against you.

"It's almost two p.m. Y/N," she teased once you separated to catch your breath. She gently ran her fingers through your hair.

You paused, taking what she said in. "Sam sure was patient then," Tara laughed at that and it didn't take long for you to join in.

"I really don't want to leave bed today," she confessed, perfectly content with where she was at the moment.

You had other plans though. "Hear me out. Bathroom, breakfast, back to bed? I'll even make pancakes," how could she refuse that.

"And then?" she whispered in your ear.

"The Babadook and cuddles?" she could work with that. Oh, she could definitely work with that.

"Up you go then," you didn't move though.

"You know you have to let me go, right?" you teased, lightly poking the tip of her nose.

Begrudgingly Tara agreed to let you go. Not without a pout though, and seeing the pout on her face you gave her a peck on her lips and jumped to your feet. The pout didn’t quite vanish, but it was smaller. Everything was still so new and fresh and so long-awaited that she really didn't want to let go. She didn't even hide the grin or try to be subtle as her eyes followed your every move.

~X~

Half an hour later you were making a conscious choice to ignore the pancakes in the pan for the sake of kissing Tara again. As much as she enjoyed the kiss Tara could smell the pancake and if you didn't get back to it soon it probably wouldn't turn out to be good. "Hmm, pancake, Y/N," she laughed when you groaned and begrudgingly turned your attention back to the breakfast.

"Pancake, Y/N," you repeated, feigning annoyance as you dramatically flipped the culprit that kept you from Tara.

Who would have thought you'd be this eager for her? Tara loved it. She moved from her spot next to the sink and hugged you from behind. She had never really done that before, now that she thought about it. Not like this anyway, not with her cheek pressed against your shoulder blades, or her fingers slipping beneath your shirt to trace your abs.

You huffed a bit, trying not to laugh. "Tara, that tickles," there was definitely a difference in the way you said her name now, as opposed to the way you were saying it in the morning. It was gentler, more, she couldn't really put a finger on it, but she could hear it. "I like this," you muttered as you served the pancakes on the plates.

"Hmm?" Tara hummed.

"You hugging me like that. I dunno, it's just nice," she'd definitely keep that in mind. She let out a content sigh, enjoying the moment you two were currently having. Also, the pancakes smelled lovely.

You reached out for syrup and Tara let you go, choosing to instead stand next to you. Hugging you from behind was really nice, but like this, she could see the smile you somehow couldn't get off your face.

"You know, I've always loved making pancakes for you," Tara knew, you never told her, but she knew. It was because she would always have a huge grin on her face while you made them. They were simple, tasty, and she felt like she was never too much of a bother if she asked you to make them. Currently, however, she had something else on her mind.

"Oh yeah? Well, I can name a few things I really loved last night," and there was an adorable grin on your face, not that she was much better. You were both grinning like fools.

"Just a few?" you playfully pulled her into you side and kissed the top of her head. "Such as?"

Tara pretended to be in deep thought. "See, I'm not sure. How about we do it again, you know, just so I can give you an answer," and then her stomach growled, and she blushed and she wanted to hide her face so she did just that. Why did her stomach have to growl in such an embarrassing moment?

"Sorry, I didn't catch that last bit," you were just being mean to her right now. Not that she had a chance to retort, as you lifted her up, prompting her to instantly wrap her legs around your waist. "That's new. I like it," you grabbed the two plates with one hand, a trick she still had no idea how to do without dropping at least one, and carried her to the bed. "Breakfast in bed then round two?" you offered with a charming grin on your face and, honestly, how could she resist.

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x you #scream #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader

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