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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?

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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.

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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.”

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“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.

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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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pls-hold-me-im-justa-weeb · 1 year

Note

Hello love 💗 I hope you’re doing well! Are your requests open? If so I was wondering if I could request how the Strawhats react to you having to sit on their laps. Mostly looking for Zoro’s reaction 😭😭 he’s my currently fixation and I had a dream last night that he let me sit on his lap so I’m just obsessed. But if you plan on doing headcanons then maybe you can include Luffy and Sanji as well? Or whoever else you’d like to write for ☺️.

Perhaps they’re in an awkward/cramped situation and they have nowhere to go other than on his lap. And reader can be in a relationship with him or not yet. That’s up to you :D I hope this makes sense and thank you in advance if you’re able to write this! If not, then no worries ☺️ have a lovely day!

Omg I love this so much. And yes! my requests are currently open! (also I love Zoro too and i'm so jealous of your dream). Thank you for your request :) It ended up not being exactly your request because it ended up being confession scenarios when you're on their lap, and I'm sorry about that and I hope you still enjoy what I wrote. I tried to make it up with the amount I wrote lol.

I made this pretty fluffy, because I wasn't sure you'd be comfortable with anything spicy. Reader/character do end up kissing though. . Also I headcanon that Zoro would be so soft at first with his S/O because he might not have the confidence in emotions like that.

I am so whipped for Ace and I wanted to write him for so long but didn't know how to start so thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to.

Warnings: Small spaces, kissing, confessions, swearing (Ace part - suggestive, angst if you squint)

Monster Trio's + Ace's reaction to their crush confessing while sitting on their laps

Soft!Zoro, Luffy being Luffy idk what to say, Smooth!Sanji, Flirty!Ace

Running from the marines was exhausting, you had to admit. Ducking into alleys, climbing over walls and gates, knocking over crates and barrels, and zig zagging to avoid gunfire was more exercise than you ever wanted in your life. Yet, here you were, running for your life from the marines. Again. You glanced to your side, looking at the cause of the chaos. Even though you had a huge, fat crush on him, that didn't stop him from being a pain in the ass in moments like this. You opened your mouth to scold him, but fresh blasts of gunfire from behind you lead to him looping an arm around your waist and hauling you suddenly to the side, down a skinny alley. It was a dead end- or at least looked like it.

"Now what-" you broke off your hissed annoyance with a quiet yelp of surprise as he yanked you down another smaller alley, hidden around an unnoticeable corner at the end of the previous alley. A small, ornate wooden door was hauled open by your crush's hand before you even noticed it. He shoved the both of you inside and slammed shut the door. You ignored the musty damp smell of your surroundings as you tried to catch your breath in the dark, tiny closet.

You heard boots echo down the first alley you went down. You readied yourself to fight as you heard slow steps approaching the door that was nearly pressed to your nose. You felt your partner in crime shift behind you, readying to fight as well. You held your breath, lungs burning from the effort as a hand on the outside jiggled the handle. You heard the distinct clang of metal breaking. Your heart dropped into your stomach. Did that marine really just break the door? How is that even possible? How the hell can we get out?

You barely registered the marine reporting that he didn't find you two as he walked off. You felt your crush release a breath at the retreat of the Marines.

"He broke the door" you muttered to yourself. You ran your fingers over the door, finding no latch or handle on the inside.

"Why did we have to get locked in a closet on the one island with weird fucking doors? Those damn local craftsmen are too good" you groaned. You heard shuffling behind you, and suddenly a light from a small lantern exposed your surroundings- a tiny forgotten utility closet. You glanced behind you at your crush. He held the lantern up, and looked at the door that was nearly pressing into your nose.

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

Zoro

"I hate you so much right now" you hissed as you let your head thud against the door.

"Not my fault. Now open the door" he said with a shrug you felt on your back. Seething, you glared at him over your shoulder before running your fingers over what could be the latch. As you suspected, it was broken. You weren't getting out of here unless someone came and saved you from the outside. You huffed a sigh.

"I can't. The marine broke it"

"What do you mean the marine broke it? If the door's broken, you should be able to open it!"

"Do I look like an expert in fucking doors? You know this island has incredible craftsmen. It doesn't even have an obvious lock!"

"Don't yell at me, it's not my fault the doors are so weird in this place!"

You took a deep breath. Bickering wouldn't get you anywhere.

"Would you be able to cut through the door?" you asked hopefully. Zoro shook his head.

"If it were just me in here, yeah. But with you here as well, I can't even draw my sword fully without cutting both of us." You nodded, understanding, but disappointed.

"Do you have the baby den-den mushi?"

He nodded, and his chest pressed heavily against you as he rummaged around. You breathed a sigh of relief as he produced it. You quickly called the Sunny, reporting the situation to Robin, who had just gotten back from exploring the town. She said she would send a clone to start looking for you, but it would be best to report it to Luffy. You thanked her, hung up, and called Luffy. You reported the situation, and Zoro had to yell at him to shut up to get him to stop laughing. He hung up with the promise of searching for you, though he didn't ask where you were. Not that you would've been able to tell him when Zoro was leading the way.

You groaned, letting your head thud against the door.

"Tired?" the swordsman asked. You nodded, shifting your legs slightly. They ached from sprinting and dodging bullets, and there was nowhere to sit. Zoro cleared his throat and shifted an overturned bucket behind him with his foot.

"You... you can sit on my lap" he suggested. His face was flushed in the lantern light, and it was unusual for him to stutter over his words. His reaction and his words made your heart skip a beat.

"Uh.. sure" you said shyly. He pulled you to his chest and sat on the bucket. You shifted your legs so your ass was on one of his thick thighs and your thighs draped over his other thigh. He seemed unsure where to put his hands. You snorted, grabbing one and winding it around your back, and guided the other to rest in your lap. You could feel the heat of his flushed face, and could smell the faint sweet freshness of sake and tang of metal. You relaxed into his embrace, leaning your shoulder on his chest and letting yourself imagine for a second that maybe, he liked you too. You felt him shift a little.

"You okay?" you asked. You looked at his face, and he almost looked like he was scowling, lost in thought.

"Yeah... just..." he trailed off. Thinking he was uncomfortable, you went to stand again. His hands tightened on your waist, holding you close. You looked at him questioningly. You almost felt like his heart was being faster against your arm

"Just?" you prodded. He looked away, and swore under his breath.

"Just... this is nicer than I thought it would be" he admitted quietly.

"Yeah, it is"

You both froze at your unconscious agreement. He looked at you, blush still tinging his cheeks red. You babbled on nervously, your face heating.

"I-I-I mean... without being locked in a tiny closet or uh... the weird old smell in here... not that you don't smell good... you do! Like sake and metal and that's hot... I mean hot like... people could be attracted to it! Heh. I mean you're really attractive and a great man so you could get anyone you wanted... but yeah I guess sitting on your lap is nice? Not in a sexual way though... just being close to you... right? Being close to people you like is gr-"

You were cut off by heavily calloused fingers guiding your chin so slightly chapped lips could close over yours. It took you a moment to be able to relax into the kiss, letting him set the pace and guide your movements. Eventually, once air became a necessity, you broke apart.

"I like you too" he said gruffly, as if the words had never left his lips before. You stared at him, meeting his serious gaze.

"Be mine." It was a demand and a question.

You nodded, so incredibly glad you ended up locked in a forgotten, tiny room with him, sitting on his lap, and sharing kisses and jokes.

Or at least, until Luffy managed to bust down the door with his sandaled foot. Zoro protected your body with his own, easily flipping you so you were under him.

"Luffy! Be fucking careful!" Zoro snapped at his captain. Luffy waved him off, questioning you about whether or not you were hungry. You giggled, nodding. As the three of you walked back to the Sunny, Luffy noticed something strange.

"Hey, Zoro. How come you said you couldn't get out? You easily could've broken that door down with your bare hands."

Zoro's responding blush had you snorting and giggling, and he playfully gently shoved you away.

"Shut up Luffy!"

"Huuuhh? What did I do? You could've easily broke it down!"

You broke into loud laughter at this, responding before your new boyfriend combusted from embarrassment.

"He wanted to spend extra time with me, Luffy"

"OH! I didn't know you two were such good friends!"

"We're more than friends now. He's my boyfriend" you announced. Luffy stopped and blinked at the two of you before a wide grin split his face.

"Okay! If you're with him all the time maybe he won't get lost as much. Now lets go! I'm hungry!"

You grabbed Zoro's hand and chased after the captain's sprinting figure, a grin plastered on your face.

Luffy

"Are you going to open the door?" Luffy asked. You let your head thud against the wood.

"I can't. The marine broke it." you replied despondently. You heard Luffy hum.

"Lemme try!"

You felt his stretchy arms slither beside you. He felt around on the door, but suddenly slumped forward against your back.

"What's wrong?!"

"Sea prism stone" he slurred, head tucked on your shoulder. Your heart thudded as you felt his breath whisper on your neck, but dragged your focus back to the issue.

"Sea prism stone?! In a door to a storage room?!"

You felt him nodding against your back. You sighed. Damn it.

"Okay. Sit down. Let me see if I can take a better look at it"

You helped him slide off your back, ignoring the electrifying feeling of his skin against yours. I really have it bad for this man. He clumsily sat down on an overturned bucket behind him, but his knees knocked into the back of yours, sending you falling backwards onto his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist, catching you against his chest.

You froze at the contact. You could feel the heat of his bare chest and stomach through your shirt, and you really wanted to blame that on the heat that flooded to your cheeks. But you knew better.

"S-sorry" you stuttered out. You felt Luffy shrug behind you before holding you closer.

"It's fine. Now we get to cuddle!"

You giggled nervously.

"You cuddle with everyone on the crew?" you asked lightly, turning your attention back to the door in front of you. The space was so small that your shoulder was still resting against the captain as your fingers brushed over the door when your arm was held out in front of you.

"Not really, I mean I'll hug them, but I like you so I want to cuddle with you."

Your gaze snapped back to the captain, who was already looking at you with a soft smile. You couldn't believe it, so you tried again.

"You like the rest of our crew though" you said softly.

"Yeah, but not like I like you. I feel funny when you're around. Like my stomach drops like I'm falling when you touch me, or laugh at my jokes. I want to hold you and kiss you, if you'll let me".

You blinked at him, a happy smile curving your lips.

"I'll let you do that, Luffy. I like you more tha-"

He cut you off with a sudden bruising kiss. It was a messy clash of lips and tongues and teeth. It was too wet and messy. But it was perfect, because it was Luffy. He was messy and chaotic, but at the same time, a ball of calm sunshine. He broke the kiss, breath quickened.

"This means you're mine now" he murmured, running his hand over your hair. You smiled.

"It also mean that you're mine" you parroted teasingly. He grinned at you, chuckling. You pressed a palm against the side of his face, thumb brushing gently over the scar under his eye.

"But that doesn't solve how we're going to get out of here" you muttered. He hummed.

"Let's call the Sunny, see who can come get us" he said, producing the baby den-den mushi after some rummaging and shifting.

The two of you called, and Sanji picked up. Luffy reported the general situation, and you filled in important details.

"Oh! Also, the two of us are dating now!" Luffy proudly proclaimed. You lightly smacked him upside the head.

"Ask me before telling everyone that!" you chided. Sanji started nagging him too about asking your partner before doing some things. Luffy sulked, and you couldn't stand those puppy dog eyes. You sighed.

"Fine, fine. You can tell the crew".

His answering grin made you blush and giggle. Sanji sighed at the captain's antics, but offered his sincere congratulations, muttering something about how it was damn time. Bringing the conversation back to the issue at hand, he promised to call Robin to help search for you, but he didn't know how long it would take. He was watching the ship while the others went out, but he would notify them as well. You were about to thank him when you were interrupted.

"Oi. Curly Brow. Is that you?" came a deep voice through the door. Your new boyfriend perked up.

"Ooohh! Zoroooo!! You found us!"

"Luffy?!"

"Zoro! We're locked in! Can you cut the door open? There's not much room in here, so be careful! Oh and there's sea prism stone somewhere in the door" you called. Sanji sighed on the den-den mushi, grumbling about how Zoro's ability to get lost finally came in handy for once. You thanked Sanji and quickly hung up. With a warning to stay back, Zoro sliced easily through the door.

"How in the hell did you get stuck in there?" the swordsman demanded. Luffy poked his head over your shoulder, grinning.

"We were chased by marines and then one of them accidentally broke the door, but the inside of the door had sea prism stone or somethin'" he recounted.

"What the hell kind of door is that?"

You shrugged, stretching upwards as you freed yourself from the cramped space.

"I dunno. It was stupid. But at least I got to confess and we kissed!" Luffy added on excitedly. Your face heated with a blush, and you hid a grin. Zoro laughed, smacking your new boyfriend on his shoulder.

"See? I told you just to do it!"

"You knew?!" you exclaimed. Zoro smirked at you.

"Everyone but you knew. He's not exactly subtle."

You groaned, shoving your face in your hands. Apparently, you had some things to catch up on.

Sanji

He looked at you, his visible blue eye shining with regret.

"I'm sorry I handled you so rough back there" he muttered, breath whispering against your cheek. You swore you saw tears of regret brimming in his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat.

"Hey hey, it's okay. You saved me from the marines. I probably would've gotten shot and captured if you hadn't done that" you soothed. He scowled at the idea of you getting captured. You smiled at him, hoping the dim light didn't expose your darkened cheeks.

"C'mon. See if you can get this door open. I didn't have any luck" you muttered. You shifted to the side, trying to get him to pass by you, but the space was too small. You ended up chest to chest. Warmth bled through his buttoned shirt, jacket left unbuttoned for once. You cleared your throat, sure you were going to combust from embarrassment. You smelled the cloying smoky sweetness from his preferred cigarettes, the fresh scent of his cologne, and hints of what he cooked for breakfast. You looked to the back of the closet, away from his gaze, willing your heart to stop beating so fast against his obviously chiseled chest.

"S-sorry. Can you get it like this?" you muttered. The vibration of his considering hum echoed through your chest. Were you breathing? Oh god why did he smell so good? He's so warm.

"My fingers may be skilled, but I can't get it. The only way to open the door now would be to break it down from the outside, seeing as there's no room for me to kick it open"

Your face was flaming, and you stopped listening after the first sentence. You'd dreamed about what those fingers could do, and he just unknowingly admitted to it.

"Are you okay? You feel warm" he said, raising the hand opposite the door to your forehead. You squeaked at the touch.

"If you're claustrophobic, I'm sure I can find some way out of here quickly."

"No, that's not it" you admitted quietly.

"No? Look at me" he said. He sounded worried. You held back an embarrassed groan and tilted your head to look at him.

"What's wrong? Did you get hit? Are you in pain? Those damn marines-"

"Sanji. I'm fine" you finally interrupted. You felt the hand he used to feel your forehead nudged your shoulder slightly so you could stand in front of him again. You followed the silent request, and he kept you facing him. You let his gaze roam over your form, resolutely looking away towards the door over your shoulder as if you were studying the mechanism.

"You're not bleeding" he observed. You snorted.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just a little tired" you said with a small smile, finally gaining the confidence to look back at his face. His worry disappeared with a relieved smile.

"Sit on my lap then. There's a bucket I can sit on behind me" he suggested. His cheeks became rosy, but you brushed off the reaction. It would be a cold day in hell before you passed up such an opportunity, so you nodded shyly. He wrapped you in his arms and spun you around, guiding you in what felt like a short dance as he took a seat. You shifted until you were comfortable on his lap. His legs were pure, solid muscle, you noticed quite happily.

"Better? We did run quite far from the marines." His breath tickled your ear, and you nearly choked on your spit at the intimacy of the position.

"Y-y-yeah"

"Your heart is still pounding and your face is red. You sure you're okay?"

This time you let out a groan, and his arms tightened around you.

"I'm fine, Sanji! I just have feelings!" you blurted. You slapped a hand over your mouth immediately.

"Feelings?" he echoed. Oh no why did I say that? He doesn't feel that way about me. Just look how he is with Nami and Robin!

"Romantic feelings? For me?" he asked. You were too focused on your internal panic to register the shocked excitement in his voice. You groaned, hiding your face in your hands as you nodded. Too late to back out now. One of his hands gently removed yours and tilted your chin so you were looking at him.

"Mon amour. I'm yours for as long as you'll have me. How can I say no to perfection, to the one I've loved since I first saw you?"

"...what?" you squeaked. This was insane. He... He liked you... like that? Like you liked him? Loved you? He smiled broadly at you, his cheeks tinging pink.

"I wish you had let me confess in a more romantic setting, but anywhere with you is paradise"

That was all the confirmation you needed. You slowly leaned towards him, your gaze flicking between his lips and his visible eye. He looked surprised, but met you halfway. He let you guide the pace, keeping the kiss chaste and loving. You broke away eventually, needing air. Your eyes slipped back open.

"Sanji. Your nose is bleeding."

"Ahn~~~ I just can't help it! You're so amazing!"

You giggled. This was the Sanji you knew - hearts in his eyes and his fawning words. You hugged him, planting a kiss on his cheek. He swooned.

"So... maybe, do you want to go on a date later?" you asked in his ear. His nose bled more, and you started laughing.

"I'll take that as a yes. Now give me the baby den-den mushi so I can call the Sunny so someone can come get us out of here. I'm getting kind of hungry."

That snapped him back to his senses.

"You're hungry? My love, I will make you only the best food!"

"Thanks babe but we need to get out of here first"

"Of course! Anything for you! Hold onto my neck" he instructed, holding your body bridal style. He stood, and your arms wrapped around his neck. You felt his balance shift, before a vicious kick to the door sent it flying off its hinges and crashing into the far wall of the slim alley.

You looked at the door in shock before looking at him. He shrugged, a blush coloring his cheeks.

"It was a good excuse to spend time with you"

You laughed loudly, hiding your face in his chest.

"Lets go back to the Sunny, lover boy" you teased. He looked like he was desperately concentrating on not getting a nose bleed, and managed to smirk at you instead.

"Of course, my love"

Ace (slightly suggestive, angst if you squint)

"You have got to be fucking kidding me" you hissed, letting your head thud against the door.

"In my defense, he left his plate unsupervised"

"It was a REAR ADMIRAL! You and your stupid shirtless torso got us in trouble AGAIN!"

"Hey! I'm proud to wear the old man's jolly roger!"

"I am too, Ace! But sometimes we need to be subtle around Marines!"

Ace sighed heavily.

"You like that I'm shirtless though" he teased. You stubbornly kept your gaze on the door, fiddling with the broken mechanism as your blush ran wild.

"Shut up and see if you can open the damn door" you muttered. He reached around your waist, but immediately retracted his fingers once he brushed against it.

"Sea prism stone" he hissed. You thudded your forehead harshly against the door. Why the hell is sea prism stone in a storage room door??

"Once we get out of here, you're fucking dead" you hissed.

"I'd prefer if I was just fucking" he joked. You glared at him, reigning in your indecent thoughts. You sighed heavily.

"Yeah, well, me too. Now call for help on the baby den-den mushi. Hopefully someone can find us before you get too hungry again" you ordered. He quickly dug it out and reported the situation, along with a rough set of directions. You turned to face him, studying him. You knew now why he was the second division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates- he quickly could take stock of a situation, plan, and escape or fight. He recognized his surroundings and could communicate them to others, but was also incredibly strong and a great fighter. You didn't realize you were staring until he met your gaze after ending the call.

"What? Like what you see?" he said with a smirk. You shrugged.

"I think there's a lot to you that you don't show people. You're lighthearted and funny, but you have a lot of... hmmm... depth? Yeah. I was completely lost following you around, but you got the general location, and reported all the necessary details, including the sea prism stone. You're kinda impressive"

He blinked at you, a blush tinging his tanned cheeks red as you talked, and a humble smile curving his lips.

"Thanks. I guess" he mumbled. You nodded. He shuffled his feet a little, and jolted when his boot kicked an overturned bucket. He ran a hand through his black hair.

"Mind if I sit down?" he asked. You shook your head, knowing he could fall asleep at any given moment, and you really didn't want him to fall on you. He took a seat on the bucket, but his knees knocked into yours, and you pitched forward with a small yelp. Warm hands caught you easily around your waist.

"Whoops" he said, grinning. Your breath hitched. The two of you were nearly nose to nose... if you just...

"Looks like you'll have to sit in my lap." He maneuvered your body so you were sitting sideways in his lap, his knees spread so you were balanced perfectly.

"T-thanks" you stuttered. He hummed an affirmative.

"Ace?"

He looked at you, a smile playing at his lips.

"I... I understand why you're the second division commander. And... I'm happy you are"

He tilted his head curiously.

"Where's this coming from?"

"I... I dunno. I just feel like you need to hear it sometimes."

You felt him stiffen at your words before he relaxed with a chuckle and held you closer in a hug.

"'s why I like you, ya know"

Your heart thudded, and your breath hitched. For a second, it sounded like he was saying he liked you. Romantically. But you shook your head. The two of you were friends, and that's probably all he would see you as.

"You like a lot of people" you said, shrugging as if your own words didn't make your heart clench with loneliness.

"Sure. But..." he sighed, and you could feel tension seeping into his body again. He felt warmer, as if he was trying not to catch on fire.

"I don't like them the same way I like you..." he muttered quietly. He started nervously babbling as you stared at him, incredulous.

"I know you won't ever see me the same way, but for our friendship, you know... it's only fair that I tell you so I can get over these feelings. But god. Fuck. You're just so... amazing. Strong. You make me laugh, and make me fucking weak. I love you, more than a friend. I'm made of fire but damn if you don't ignite something in me. I love you in a way I've never experienced before and it's so scary because I know there's no hope but-"

You cut him off with a hand tilting his head towards you, and swiftly covering his lips with yours. He tasted like the smell of heat, his lips were chapped, and he didn't kiss you back. But you knew why. You pulled back with a smirk, sliding your hand back to tangle your fingers in his black locks. You couldn't help the giggle at his blank, shocked expression.

"Kiss me back, firefly. I love you too."

This time, at the pull of your hand, he met you halfway. He took control of the kiss, kissing you desperately like he was making up for lost time. His large, warm hand cradled your jaw. You broke the kiss eventually when you started laughing giddily. He started peppering tiny kisses all over your face and down your neck.

"Remember earlier how I said you'd be fucking dead once we got out of here?"

"Mmmhmm"

"Do you remember what you said in reply?"

"...huh? Oh. Yeah"

"Well, once we get out of here, you can show me what you can do, cowboy"

He gazed at you, eyes wide with wonder. Without another word, he picked you up bridal style, and launched a vicious kick at the door. It went flying into the far side of the wall of the alley, and he staggered a little from the sea prism stone, but quickly darted out of the closet. He quickly put you down and then picked you up so you were on his back. He sprinted past part of the crew that was obviously on their way to find you, shouting quickly over his shoulder that you were both fine now.

You could only wave and laugh at their bewildered looks as he carried you away.

824 notes · View notes

biancadjarin · 1 year

Text

ʚ Send Me an Angel ɞ

- pairing: mean!eddie munson x bratty!henderson older sister!female reader

- content warning: 18+ nothing too graphic, but I prefer no minors on my blog, thankssss

- a/n: idk what this is lol, I just love fem/bratty reader and intimidating/mean Eddie <3

“Ugh why do your weird nerdy friends have to come here Dusty??” you pout at your little brother as you lay on your stomach on your bed, him staring at you from your doorway.

“I told you, the drama kids are putting on a play or some shit so we can’t play D&D in there.” He says to you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Just stay in here, my friends don’t wanna listen to your stupid shows on the TV or watch you dance around to your girly music.” He slams your door shut and your head shoots up off a pillow, shocked at how rude he can be. You scoff and roll onto your back, eyes growing heavy and leading you into your after school nap.

You’re rudely awakened by loud laughter and yelling. You look at the pink clock on your wall. 6:05pm. Their little game has only been going for 5 minutes and you’re already annoyed. You get up and head to your door, swinging it open and heading towards the bathroom for a quick shower before you go make yourself some dinner.

“C’mon Eddie, I wanna cast a spell, hurry up and roll!” you hear Mike Wheeler yell. Little twerp just like your brother. Always running into the house, tracking in dirt, leaving their bikes in the drivew… Wait. Eddie. Eddie’s here. In your dining room. You’ve had a crush on Eddie all year and while you two have talked here and there, you’d be lying if you said his harsh leather metal head look didn’t scare you a bit. You’re all soft edges, pink backpack, frilly white socks rolled over your reeboks, soft hair swaying. You’re not perfect, certainly no Phoebe Cates. But you know you’re pretty, plush lips over straight teeth, cute perky boobs and a butt that jiggles when you walk.

You’ve felt Eddie’s eyes on you at school. Once he even bumped into you when you stopped short to tie your shoe. “Walk much?” Eddie said to you with a glare. “Oh!” You’d said as you spun around, surprised at his proximity. “S-sorry.” You said sweetly, his big brown eyes stared at you and made your tummy flutter in the most amazing way. Your tummy isn’t flat and perfect but that’s ok. You like cookies too much, is that a crime?!

“Actually since you’re here, can you hold my books while I tie my shoes?” you’d asked, voice smooth and sweet like syrup. Eddie stared at you for a second then put out his hands. You assumed that meant yes so you handed him your heavy textbooks. You turned and bent forward, ass almost grazing his crotch. The way the fabric of your white jeans stretched across your cute little butt made him stop breathing. Eddie’s mind went blank, mouth going dry and fingers going numb from the weight. Your textbooks slipped out of his hands and hit the floor with a slam. You squeaked a scared little scream and stood back up quickly. “Shit are you okay?” Eddie asks you as he drops down and picks the books back up, placing them gently into your small hands. “I’m fine. Was just loud. Scared me.” He chuckled, eyes narrowed and and flickered with mischief, making you wonder if he did that on purpose. “I’m sorry angel… I mean-” Your reaction to his nickname for you got cut short when you jumped for the second time in the last two minutes thanks to the class bell ringing. “Gotta go.” Eddie said with a wink before racing past you, your face red with embarrassment.

You giggle at the memory as you exit the shower. Quickly running back to your room to get ready, you think to yourself: How can I get Eddie’s attention but not let him know he has mine? I think he likes me but I don’t wanna look too desperate. Gotta tease him a bit… You curl your lashes and put on your sparkly pink lipgloss. You open your closet and weigh your options… tight jeans?… but you want Eddie to see your panties. A dress? that’s a little too obvious… your fingers reach for your soft pink frilly mini skirt that has a matching jacket that your friend borrowed and never gave back. You slip it on, white and pink lace panties underneath with a scalloped edge that hug your ass just right. A simple white T shirt that’s slightly see through over a matching pink and white lace bra and a couple sparkly silver necklaces finish your outfit. Barefoot you begin to creep downstairs, the sounds of boys whooping and dice hitting your wooden dining room table growing louder as you ascend.

“So uh, where’s your sister D?” you hear one of the boys ask. You stop on the second to last step, leaning in to listen. It’s not Eddie’s voice, but too deep to be Mike or Lucas’s. “Up in her room, she’s so annoying.” You roll your eyes. “Maybe..” Gareth grumbles. “But I certainly don’t mind lookin’ at her.” Everyone busts out into laughter except your brother. “Ew dude gross! Shut up, it’s your turn.” “Yeah G,” you finally hear Eddie’s voice, it sounds deep and tight like he’s clenching his jaw. “Roll the dice before I write you out of this whole campaign.” “Jeez fine. I got a 12.” “Not enough, you lose 18 hit points.” “What the fuck man!”

As the game continues you saunter past the table, only turning your head once to smile and wave politely at the group. You feel Eddie’s eyes follow you all the way to the kitchen. Their conversation continues on, sounding further away now. You begin to warm up some rice and leftover chicken, mixing up a strawberry lemonade while the microwave whirs. As you watch the yellow drink turn pink you feel a warmth encroach your space, the smell of weed and cinnamon gum filling your nostrils.

“Hey y/n.. didn’t know you were here.” Eddie says as he stands behind you. Closer than what would be considered normal. You spin around, big doe eyes looking up and meeting his, small silver spoon that you were mixing with coming up to your lips and sucking, savoring the tangy powder. His eyes fall to your mouth, half hooded, eyebrows raising slightly. You pull it out slowly and lick the tip of it with your tongue, before saying “I live here. Where else would I be?” in your bratty tone.

He shrugs his shoulders, “Friday night, thought maybe you’d be on a date.” He says with a crooked smile. Does he think about me going on dates? He crowds closer into your space, you feel the countertop at your back as you lean against it. “Nope. No date. Maybe you can set me up with one of your friends?” you say as you look past him, over his shoulder towards where Hellfire is. “My friends? You wanna date one of us?” “I don’t know.. maybe. You think they’d be interested?” you ask him confidently but your heart is beating so fast, your breath uneven, chest rising with every shaky inhale. BEEEEEP. The microwave signals behind you. “Eddie! You done in the bathroom yet?!” you hear your brother yell from down the hall. “Sounds like you’re needed out there.” You say to him, beginning to slide past him. His hand shoots up to grab your hip and maneuver you back. Caged in by him.

“Yeah, gimme five minutes!” He yells over his shoulder. You stare up at him, unsure what he’s going to do. He reaches behind you picking up your pink lemonade and drinks the whole thing in one long sip. You watch as his neck stretches back and his adams apple bobs when he swallows. The pale smooth skin of his neck looking irresistibly bite-able. “Sweet. Like you.” He says, low and gravelly. He puts the glass down and drops his chin to his chest, looking at the small space between your bodies. “Is this a skirt or a belt? So fuckin’ short I thought I saw some ass when you walked by.” “Maybe I wanted your friend to see. What’s his name? With the curls… Gareth?” Eddie snorts and throws his head back with a mock laugh. “Gareth wouldn’t know what to do with you.” His eyes sweep down your neck, your chest and stop at where the thin fabric of your shirt and lace bra are barely doing anything to cover the pebbled peaks of your nipples. “Oh and you know what to do with me?” you ask, eyebrows raising condescendingly. He exhales a low growl before reaching to grab the back of your squishy thighs and lifting you up onto the counter.

“I’d have a lot of fun finding out-” he leans forward, hands softly grasping the back of your calves, thumbs rubbing up and down the smooth skin as he guides them to rest around his thighs. “Angel.” he says with a wink. You feel a shudder go through you, ending at your core and making you ache between your legs. Eddie’s standing between your spread thighs, the rough fabric of his black jeans rubbing against your legs as he talks. Everything about him feels so warm. “Listen to me real good now.” He says, lips brushing the shell of your ear causing goosebumps to erupt down the whole left side of your body. “You’re going to eat your little snack. Then go back upstairs to your room and wait for me. Think you can do that?” He doesn’t wait for you to respond before he’s backing away and walking back down the hallway. “EDDIE COME OOON!” Gareth yells. “Comin’!” He says back, wide smirk dancing on his lips.

You’re left in the kitchen wondering what just happened and what you just got yourself into…

Part 2 HERE

Masterlist HERE

——————Thanks for reading!—————

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #mean!eddie #bratty!reader #eddie munson moodboard #henderson!sister #eddie x henderson!reader

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sannirio · 8 months

Text

On your knees

wc: unknown

dom jjk x male reader

cw: face fucking, dumbification, degradation, praise, size kink, possible emetophobia trigger [rayor]

A/N idk i just felt like writing something. it’s not very good but that’s ok lol

“get on your knees” you felt yourself hit the floor, a hand on your shoulder, the one that forced you down. jungkook was looking down at you. he looked angry. he bent down to match the level “do you know why you’re here?” his voice was smooth, low, but the anger was laced throughout his words. “yes sir” you whispered. “are you sure? i don’t think you do.” it wasn’t your fault that guy came up to you and flirted with you at the club, of course it wasn’t, but when jungkook gets like this you can’t help but be extremely turned on. he was so tall standing above you, his eyes were fixed on your body, scanning it, every inch deciding on what to do with you first. at the moment all he wanted to do was mark you.

finally he decided. he slowly started to undo his belt forcing you to stare at his hands as they worked. finally he pulled off his belt and threw it to the floor. you were getting restless, needy. you knew what was coming next. jungkook pulled down his pants releasing his cock. you’ve seen it a thousand times but it’s size always shocked you. he was huge and he knew it. grabbing your head he forced your mouth on to his cock. you felt him go down your throat, usually you could handle it but the force was different. jungkook held your head in place, starting to thrust into your mouth. each time he thrust into you jungkook grunted. his pace quickened, very fast. it started to feel like he was tearing your throat open. tears started rush down your face landing on the floor mixing with your saliva. he was moving so fast, fucking your face like a fleshlight. you hands were trying so hard to keep yourself steady which was barely possible due too his relentless use of your poor mouth.

you looked so pretty to jungkook. his cock being squeezed by your throat was driving his dick insane. he flexed making you choke. he smirked, what a whore, a cock hungry slut taking his whole length down your small throat. he knew how much you loved having your mouth destroyed by him so he wasn’t going to hold back on you.

he thrust into your mouth one last time before pulling his dripping cock out. his dick was hanging in-front of your face, so heavy and perfect. you wanted more. you blinked once before a warm sensation graced your wrists. jungkook was tying you up with his favourite rope. jungkook tightened the rope around your wrists forcing a whimper to escape your pretty cock slut lips.

he brought you over to the side of the bed forcing you down onto your knees once again. he then took your hands and held them over your head, he didn’t want you to do anything you’d regret. his pants were covered in your saliva and precum, it was so incredible hot. once again he brought his cock to your lips teasing you, brushing the tip against your lips. you tired to move your head forward to get even an inch into your sore mouth. you felt a smack hit the side of your face followed by a warm sting. “bad boy” jungkook hissed. you pouted in response. the heat from the hit was dying down sending a shiver down your spine. once again jungkook forced himself into your mouth and down your throat. the sensation of the whole length of his dick hitting the walls of your throat made you numb. it hurt but it felt way to good for that to matter.

jungkook smirked. the longer he face fucked his cute little whore the more he knew you wouldn’t think about anything else. he was marking you, the bruises in your mouth were to be evidence of it, that and the fact you’d be a stupid babbling mess after he was done with you.

your brain was numb and full of endorphines the strain your underwear had on your dick was only adding to the fact that the mere sensation of jungkook using your mouth was already pushing you closer to the edge. you were such a whore, getting off to the mere sensation of jungkook thrusting himself inside you. you felt your dick twitch followed by the euphoric sensation of an orgasm flooding your body leaving your dick sensitive overstimulating you as it touched your now cum soaked underwear.

“how pathetic” jungkook growled “you came because of my dick down your throat?” he pushed his dick deep down as far as he could. he felt his orgasm reach its edge and collapse in a second. cum flooded your stomach like a damn collapse. he kept thrusting into you making sure you took every drop of him. as he pulled out of your mouth cum was still leaking ok of him, giving you the much desired taste you were longing for. “good boy” jungkook spoke in a whisper giving you a kiss on your mouth. he could taste his cum on your lips.

now you knew who you belonged to

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x male reader #jungkook x amab #jungkook x reader

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lucid-ivory · 7 months

Text

COD men & equestrian reader

characters: ghost, soap, gaz, price & alejandro X female reader

genre: fluff, platonic, slight crack?

format: bullet headcanons/ bullet fanfic idk

summary: one of the operators of the task force seems to be *too* good at horse riding and it's the last thing they expected

notes: reader is young, this is for all the equestrians if there are any in this fandom😭 and characters may be a bit ooc + this is very long and VERY specific

ghost

has never ridden horses, wasn't planning on it

saw you as somebody interesting when he first saw you on a big horse

you seemed really confident so he just went along with it

little did he know

he was gangsta until you started cantering

like okay, maybe you just wanted to impress your teammates since everyone was watching

he knows shit about position, leg aids and all that so you could be doing anything wrong and he wouldn't realize

he slightly raises his eyebrows when he sees you approaching a big ass jump

like where u goin?????

it's one of those 1.30m oxers

he thinks you're taking it too far

he was already impressed by your skills, why would you jump that high

he's prepared to see you on the ground

obviously a horse goes faster the higher the jump is

the fact that you keep up with the animal is already making him feel like "huh?"

when he sees the horsey getting on his two legs and ready to jump he feels humbled

you're perfectly fine, you can keep up with the horse's speed and you seem proud of yourself

by this point it's already obvious that it wasn't your first time

now that he sees your confidence and level, he would like to see you jumping higher

he doesn't really know how high a horse can jump anyway

(for general knowledge, the record is 2,47meters)

after a few more small and bigger jumps, you go for one that's 1.50m

(which is usually the height of competitions)

you do it casually, enjoying the moment. the horse jumps well and looks sick as fuck, which equestrians call "scope"

so you yell out

"SCOPEY!"

smiling all wide and happy

he mishears it and thinks you're talking about somebody scoping with a sniper or something

everything is going smooth, the horse listens to you and you are humiliating many olympic riders because you are "y/n" and y/n is perfect

the horse is fast, very fast and you're going for the next jump again

but who is y/n without a bit of trouble

the horse refuses to jump, stopping abruptly right in front of the obstacle

but you stayed on because you're cool like that

it did "shake" you a little, you were preparing yourself for a jump after all

but your seat is great and you managed to control the horse

ghost was scared, not expecting the animal to stop at that speed

you knocked a few poles and he offered to put them back for you

you're a crazy bitch so you decided to ride a young horse

and young horses are sometimes spicy

bucking, rearing or getting scared for everything

he's surprised at how calm you look when the horse is like a bull around the arena

when you finally lose your balance and fall off, you manage to fall smoothly on your feet

he's scared, thought you were going to be hurt

"DID YOU SEE THAT?"

how were you so calm?

you just fell off

the horse is still bucking around the arena and you're laughing

soap

i have 0 idea of scottish dialect

in fact i cannot understand it if a scottish person speaks to me so this will be hard

soap is next to ghost, he sees you jumping

you know the position riders do in order to jump? almost standing up and bending over the horse's neck

he checks you out for a milisecond when you do that

apart from that, he's impressed

why are you flying

how are you keeping yourself on the animal with only two irons on your feet and holding some leather in your hands

get down from there

you're just smiling while casually jumping 1.50m

when the horse stopped in front of the jump, he almost screamed

"shit"

he just murmured

smirked when he saw how you stayed on

gg well played

ghost put the poles up for you again after you knocked them down and smiles slightly as you struggle to convince the horse to jump

great horsemanship, or horsewomanship

you let the horse approach the jump and smell it so they calm down

he has no idea what's going on but he thinks you're very gentle for that

eventually you make it over that jump and he feels very happy for you!

then you fall off and he thinks it's badass how you fell on your feet

STANDING UP

so you get on again

when you're done jumping and you're trotting around, you want to show off

"did you see that, Lt?" he asks Ghost, and he simply nods.

while trotting, you play a little bit with the horse's controls

WASD to move shift to crouch ctrl to run ,,, jk

you start doing little dressage tricks

those ones that look so elegant and the horse is almost dancing

passage, piaffe, etc (look that up, it's BEAUTIFUL).

the horse is so cutely and smoothly bouncing and you're embracing the elegance

this is all probably happening while you're in your spec ops gear but it's okay

soap is surprised, ghost next to him simply admires

"why is the horse doin' that?"

he thinks it's pretty, but why and how would a horse move like that

"oh, you're telling him to do that?"

then he realizes you're the one using your legs and amazing skills to make the horse do all that

would like to see you in the classic equestrian competition look

gaz

okay what the fuck

he now understands where all of your leg & core strength is coming from

mans is flabbergasted but secretly wants to keep looking at you

i headcanon that he did ride horses in one of those school trips maybe or something of sorts

and i don’t think he would want to do it again

when you’re about to fall at that speed in front of the jump he’s a bit scared for you, immediately feeling the relief when you’re still on and not on the ground

when you actually do fall but it’s obvious you didn’t get hurt he simply smiles

he knew it was going to happen

but then you got on the horse again and he was like ???

why?

he appreciates your enthusiasm but visibly relaxes when you stop jumping and you stick to a more slow pace

“are you trying to impress us?”

girl you were in full uniform geared up & everything and you casually made the horse do the most complex and supreme movements that literally any other rider would kill for

you DID NOT do that for your own pleasure

gaz did appreciate a little bit more the horse’s posture

y’know ‘collection’ and all that, when the horse walks all pretty with their head down

he was not as clueless as soap and that’s why he teased you

you simply giggled and he smiled in response

now…

why was the horse drifting how did you do that

the horse was casually trotting but you did a few subtle changes (that he didn’t see) and now the horse trots in diagonal

almost crossing his feet while trotting

HOW

he raises his eyebrows

he thinks that this is a useless trait for a soldier cuz i’m telling you no police horse does cute little steps like wth

but even if it’s a useless trait for a soldier, it’s a great ability for who he considers almost a sister

he’s very happy for you and constantly cheers you up and then may ask a question or two about how did you do that

the moment you start explaining technically with all the “WELL YOU PUT YOUR OUTSIDE LEG AND THEN THE HEAD HAS TO LOOK SLIGHTLY INTO THE INSIDE WITHOUT BENDING THE NECK—“ he gets scared

he thought it was easier

+10 appreciation because it really is hard

price

let me tell you this man is almost shaking

he trusts your skills but he knows you're also young and you may not act responsible in order to just feel adrenaline or to impress somebody

while you jump, he holds his breath and then he releases it when you actually land perfectly

just like gaz, he relaxes a lot when you stick to the slower pace

he loves to see your reflexes in other contexts, such as riding

very proud of how you fell on your feet when the horse was bucking but appreciated it even more when you actually wanted to get on again

since this man is older i think he would have ridden horses in his golden era but not as in equitation, more like simply going for trail rides

he considers everyone in the team his little siblings, and since you appeared he may have this father instinct

he helps you with the stirrups and to tighten the girth

loves seeing you happy while riding, he thinks you deserve it knowing how young you are and how easier it is for you to get stressed with all the work

he tells everybody not to approach the horse's back because they may kick

"the horse has a green ribbon on his tail. he's young" he explains proudly to the rest of the team

(he didn't know shit about this, you told him about the ribbon meanings a while ago)

I HAVE THIS FEELING THAT HE WOULD RECORD YOU AND ACCIDENTALLY GET HIS FINGER ON THE CAMERA

this man would probably ride with you

"i don't need a saddle, i'm used to riding bareback"

he does need a saddle.

i feel like if he rides with you and he trots or something he would slightly hurt his back because his position wouldn't really be great

(there was a time where my back hurt like hell too because i didn't know how to canter properly LMAO)

would count strides with you between each jump

i feel like he would like english thoroughbreds

man worships secretariat probably (he'd be so real for that)

jockey potential

don't talk to him about technique

he genuinely thinks it's stressing

the whole "outside rein inside leg, shoulders back, chin up, heels down" shit is very much complex to him

he actually thinks that he would be able to race a horse

can't lie, i think so too (i almost fall while walking)

would pat the horse when you stand next to him

when you dismount, if you are the kind of person that kinda just throws themselves off the horse (i have no idea how to gently and normally dismount) he'll be behind you to slightly grab your waist or back to keep you in place in case you lose balance

ALL PLATONIC

when you're done riding he offers to keep you company while you go to the horses stall

he thinks the horse is following you because you're not holding the reins or anything and he's surprised at the bond between you and the animal

he doesn't know that YOU are actually following the horse because he just wants to go to his stall and eat

when the horsey starts eating, price would approach him and look at him

would be startled when the horse has his ears laying flat on his skull

horsey doesn't want anybody near his food

would help you carry the saddle

if he's brave enough he will try and give a carrot to the horse

if you start picking the hooves after riding, he would be slightly concerned

"does this hurt the horse"

he is like a man proud of his daughter

100% would go to see you in competitions

alejandro

GRRRRRRRR

"vamos, vaquera!"

he would constantly try to cheer you up and would smile widely while you do your "little" jumps

would probably prefer western riding because y'know... los vaqueros

he would probably crush on you a little

i feel like he saw showjumping many times but he is still surprised to see a horse jumping that high in person

i think he's almost the only one that isn't scared when he sees you jumping. if you approach the big jumps so confidently then you know what you're doing

he would actually want to ride with you too, he's so excited

wants to feel like a true vaquero and the first step is riding a horse

i'm sure he focuses on your legs and sees the aids and cues you give to the horse to make different tricks or play with his speed

he looks at your posture and everything like he knows about it or something

he's the kind of person that would surprise you

horses tend to follow each other so whatever you do with your horse, his horse does it with him.

you look back at him when you are both cantering and you smile AT HOW GOOD HE IS

his hips sway back and forth smoothly following the horse's back

his lower leg moves a little but nothing too serious

you felt like he was really close to jumping the 1.50 and reveal he was a showjumper too or something

and the rest of the team didn't expect alejandro to be so good either

you lower the jumps to like 0.50m and you both try to jump

he doesn't jump it perfectly, but he doesn't fall either

impressive for a beginner

trust me he did try to ride your horse and do the same dressage tricks as you but it didn't really work

quickly dismounted after that, he saw the horse bucking and doesn't wanna fall off

after that, i feel like he would get more interested in barrel racing and other western disciplines

he wants to take off the helmet and ride with those cowboy hats.

(saveahorserideacowboy)

you don't let him do that

dangerous D:

he appreciates it, thinks you care a lot for him

he thinks riding together is a new form of bonding for you two.

that was long, i warned all of you

please remember that my requests are open and i'd love to see and write what anyone says!

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grippingbeskar · 11 months

Text

unearthed

chapter five - married

warnings: canon typical violence, swearing, mentions of death (?) um idk i think that’s it???

a/n: gah. one of my fav chapters so far hehehehe ALSO PSA YALL— i’m trying to tag some of you in the taglist but your names aren’t popping up, i think this has to do with your settings?? i’m not taking anyone off i’ll retry to tag you ever chapter, but just so ya know!! if there’s like a line through it or it’s white instead of highlighted just have a look, or if i need to be following you just msg me and i will :)

[series masterlist] [next chapter] [sign up to the taglist!]

Just walk up there.

It’s nothing.

Nothing you haven’t done before.

You’ve been in front of thousands— millions of people before. You’ve been in arenas of people screaming and applauding, crowds swarming you as soon as you step out the door. This, being in a moderate sized room where half the eyes on you are stuffed in a helmet, should be easy. Child’s play.

It was nothing.

So why the hell are you feeling so terrified?

You were practically shaking— staring up at the set of stairs in front of you, leading to the Armourer who stood next to the original Forge. The one where every Mandalorian in the golden age would have been brought into the creed. And now, you were going to march up there and add your name to the list. You felt like an imposter, out of place in a flowing dress while you were surrounded by hard plates of armour and dark colours.

The only reason you moved was Bo-Katan behind you, a soft hand on the back of your arm nudging you in the right direction. You were grateful for her kind eyes as she nodded you up to the podium, and then your feet remembered they were attached to your body.

You met Din’s blackened stare, and started to move.

Your dress was loud. A brush of the light yellow fabric along the smooth granite ground sounded deafening. Like an alarm going off, alerting every watchful eye of the Mandalorian ancestors to your betraying presence.

Stars— you were starting to think like them, too.

It was hard not to get caught up in it all. The darkened room, soft whispers through helmets, and as you took the last step up, he was there. Your breath caught in your throat.

He looked the same as always. Of course he did, but it knocked the wind out of you all the same. Once he was in your sight, you didn’t look away. You couldn’t. His presence didn’t allow it. The Armourer said something, and the only reason you acknowledged her was because he did.

“This is The Way.” He says, the words sticking to you like glue when he practically purrs them out like that. This was the way it was now. You— a fake Mandalorian, unable to stand without everyone around you holding you up.

Swallowing hard, you felt Bo-Katan move away, but you were too busy watching Din take three steps to your side. His arm wrapped around yours, sneaking it’s way under the bare skin of your wrist, cold gloves skittering electricity up your arm.

And… oh.

It was like everything just stopped.

You could feel the press of his fingers, light but meaningful, like most of his small touches of you. He was careful not to wander the expanse of exposed skin, which he easily could, even in front of all these people. People who you’d… you’d actually almost forgotten everyone was there.

You stared up at him as if it was your first time seeing a night sky— entranced and all encompassed by the inky black and shining silver, and all the whispering voices faded away until it was just his rough breathing and his gloved hand on your feverish skin.

He didn’t look at you, just at where your own hand was placed, holding for dear life on one of the many plates of his armour. He led you with him over to the half sphere that sat in the middle of the stage. You peered in, seeing the eternal flame fluttering a reliable blue, with the water from the mines floating calmly behind it.

You grab him tighter— either out of reflex or wanting, but he leans into it. Lets you use him to stand, to stay strong in the face of the Armourer. You hope he’s strong enough to keep you standing on his own, because now he’s here, you aren’t sure how you stood without him.

Din was speechless.

He was known as a man of well chosen words to most, so his silence wasn’t unexpected. He was grateful he’d built that reputation, because even if he had to, he wouldn’t of found words that described why he felt frozen at the top of the stairs.

When he’d see you walk in, he felt like time had… stopped. It was stupid of him. He was meant to be in control. He was a King. Standing in front of his people; leading. But… stars, you were the only thing in 20 years that had made him freeze.

You walked so easily, like you were made to be there. It was like that first day, watching you walk through the city like the ground was made to bear your weight. He couldn’t look away. Couldn’t tear his eyes away from your slow, swift steps or the way you gracefully floated across the hard floors. Neither could anyone else. Outside his direct view of you, he could see his people watching. Some eyes were evaluating; the hard faces and helmets looking you up and down like they were scanning the battlefield— precisely and with no mercy.

Others watched like he did. In awe. Some eyes were soft, some whispers drifted their compliments towards her, even though they wouldn’t be heard. That’s how he knew they were genuine. They fell on deaf ears, but they were supposed to.

When you crossed the stage to him, the only thing that snapped his attention away was the loud voice of the Armourer in his ear, telling him to move towards you.

He could tell you were nervous when he got closer— for once, your eyes betrayed you easily. He thought that he was the one that’s hard to read, considering you couldn’t see his face, but you had schooled yours to a point of contention. He knew if you could see him— really see him, you’d read right through him.

But your eyes now, even though they held his, were unsure. He was supposed to just stand next to you, walk with you to where you would touch where the mines water meets the flame, and then you’d be one of them.

But he couldn’t help himself. Your dress, draping over your skin like liquid sunshine, made something angry and foreign to him burn in his chest. He wanted to feel what it was to be that close to someone— someone, he had to tell himself. Anyone. Not just you. It was a lie, but it was one he’s going to have to believe himself.

He was jealous of your dress, gently grazing the skin of your hips, gliding against the softness of your thighs. You were covered, but he knew what was under there. What was in reaching distance for him. Instead, he settled for your arm. As soon as Bo-Katan released you, he took his chance, and for the first time in a while, he followed what his rapid beating heart was telling him to do.

When he reached for you, you answered in earnest. Your hands were nearly clawing at him, holding on to the thickest parts of his armour and pulling him close to you. He let you find purchase on his body— the line of yours tucking tightly into him, and he found himself hoping you held him harder. Dug your nails in so hard that he felt the lines being marked on his skin. He wanted you to need to lean on him— to need him like he found himself needing you up here.

You clung tightly through the whole ordeal, Din not being able to remember much about it other than how warm you were against him, and how close your skin was to his. Just a few inches of armour, feeling so heavy on his body, and he would be able to feel you. He hates that he thinks about that— a million eyes on him, and all he can think about is how soft you would be under the rough calloused palm of his hand.

He doesn’t remember the last time he’s thought of feeling that. Let alone… longed for it.

The longer you held him, the more Din thought it wasn’t real. Maybe you were trying to sell it. As far as the rest of his people knew, you were supposed to be in love. You needed to be seen united and together, leaning on each other. This was just business to you— he knew that. It was to him, too.

It had to be.

The alternative… it was better to be buried than brought to light. Din wouldn’t handle that disappointment well.

The entire thing was a blur from the minute he touched you.

You remember the physical parts. Where he took you to the edge of the Forge, rested your hands on the edge of it. It was cold. Colder than he was, although he’d been pressed up against you so long his armour was as warm to the touch as your skin was. You wondered if he was that cold under that suit.

When you managed to shake that thought away, you remember him guiding your hand towards the flame. It was too hot, and you wanted to pull away for a second. You flinched, but Din kept you on the right path, guiding your hand and covering your reaction, and it ended up looking like a part of the carefully planned show.

The fire nearly licked the inside of your wrist— the water a sharp cold contrast. The Armourer spoke words, and you repeated them, but even they fade; pale in the shadow of the memory of how Din stood above you.

For the first time, he looked every bit the King you’d been told he was. He stood tall, watching as you knelt in front of him, never moving a fucking inch. Then, he reached out, gloved hand intertwining with yours as he led you down and out of the room, disappearing before you could speak again.

He didn’t have to do that.

He does everythin with purpose… and that little touch? That tiny extension of a person under all this? That was… well, it was enough to make you stumble out of the hall like an idiot.

It was mind numbing. How his fingers easily melted into the small gaps between yours, how eager he seemed to take your hand, how quickly he latched onto you and swept you out of the room, like he knew what you needed.

As you shuffled your way down and outside, you wanted to scold yourself. If anything, this was the part of the day you had to have a clear head about. You were left alone for this— it was just you, a short, isolated walkway, and a greenhouse in the middle of nowhere.

You’d asked about it. Why they had something like that out here— in an environment that seemed to harbour life well enough, despite the rumours of the toxic and cursed lands.

“It’s a symbol.” Din had replied, although when you’d asked him he’d just been The Mandalorian, the title feeling a little too official now.

“Of what?” He guided you with a hesitant hand, around the corner where the greenhouse came into view. It was small— modest, for the size of the population now. You could see the twisting vines and array of colours, though, and it was bursting with life.

“Of hope.” Din replied, and you chest tightened. “The Mandalorians that were left, after the Purge, they had nothing. Food reserves were scattered— the people were scattered. When a few banded together, this is was what came of it. It reminded them they were stronger together. Many think this was the place our true rebirth was born.”

The door was closed, but you could still see the colours bursting through it. You tried to look for him through the misted glass, but he was no where to be found. Your heart was racing— you had no idea what to truely expect in here. Would he say anything? Nothing? Would he whip out holochess to pass the time?

What made you the most afraid as you pushed the door open and stepped inside, would be that he was going to do exactly what that man said he would. That he’d share with you something you weren’t sure you wanted him to— something that would make you feel even less deserving than you already did.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see. It just felt too… too big of a thing to take from him. Despite the small conversations, you’d begun to respect the silent presence of him. And after today, you couldn’t deny the effect he had on you. You didn’t want to take anything from him, not when he’d been so giving to you.

The air felt fresher in here, passing through you in easy breaths, like there was a calming effect inside the four walls. It was bigger than it seemed, or maybe the winding vines and tall bushes that hid you in every corner made it feel more like a maze.

You let your eyes wander, a mirage of purples and blues bursting in between the brightest of green leaves. It seemed to overtake the greenhouse— it was clear there was very little maintenance on the inside, like they’d prefer to just let it run wild. It added to the atmosphere. It was almost a little… romantic.

You swallowed the burning in your throat, and shut your eyes tightly.

“Hello?” You called out, and mentally slapped yourself. It felt stupid. He was in here.

Probably.

Oh, stars.

If he was the one that left you at the altar you think you’d just crawl into a hole and die—

“Around here.” The sound of his voice sends relief rushing through your veins. You followed the sound of it, the two words enough to set you on the right path. As you rounded the corner, you could see him nearly shining, and your chest didn’t feel as tight.

He was there. Looking exactly the same, but somehow completely different in the light of the greenhouse, compared to the dark hue of the Forge room.

The darkness suited him. He was more intimidating that way— a King head to toe. But here, he was more human to you. As far as you knew, he was human, but either way, he was more approachable. Simpler. Here, he was just a man in a pretty suit.

It was very, very pretty in this light.

“I have something to show you.” He says as soon as he sees you. He spits it out like it was a loaded gun in his hand, and the sight of you was enough to make him pull the trigger.

You don’t nod, or shake your head. You just freeze. Staring at him, he turns around, and there’s no words to mince for the feeling you get in your stomach. Fear, maybe, and a little bit of simmering curiosity. You don’t want to see him out of obligation, but for a fleeting second— just for a moment, you know what you want. That you’re curious. You want to see, and you let your eyes flutter—

“AH!” You hear it before you see it.

Two giant ears stick out the sides of the helmet, and then two clawed hands hand below them. When he turns around, you notice how Dins hands hold it gently. Whatever the hell it is.

Or rather, whoever.

All thoughts of the faceless man in front of you flood out for the first time in weeks. When two giant bug eyes whip around and stare at you, ears flapping with the movement, it’s impossible to have any thoughts other than—

“What… what is that?” You say before you stop yourself. “Fuck. Sorry— I didn’t mean that. I just—“

“It’s okay. He’s my—“ The little green thing wiggles around in his arms and then promptly drops to the floor like a sack of potatoes. “Foundling.”

“Oh. Oh!” You watch it stumble around, like it was formed out of proportion. The fast way it’s legs move seem out of alignment with its body, his head tipping forward, almost directing the rest of him, commanding it to follow.

With jagged movements, he ends up at your feet, where he promptly elevates upward, then plops back down again.

“Can he talk?” You say softly, not wanting to scare the little thing as you bend to his level. You look up to Din, who’s already watching you, and see him shake his head. “Well, that’s okay. I talk enough for the both of us.”

A metallic laugh echos from behind the small creature, and he babbles almost in response to it. The sound is infectious, making you grin as he waddles around, his ears tilting him to either side.

You reach out a hand, slowly, and instead of taking it he flies into you, resting in the crook of your arm. This angle gives you a better look, tiny hairs spiralling on his green head, a toothy smile and nearly wrinkled face. You’ve never seen anything like it before.

“He usually doesn’t take well to strangers.” Din says after a while, your body now curled half up on the floor to accomodate the tiny creature. “He likes you.”

“I can be very charming when I want to be.” You squint when you finally look up to him again, soft orange light pouring through the misted windows behind him. “He’s the little thing you were talking about, right? The found…”

“Foundling.”

“Right.” You stare down at it, watching its huge eyes blink at you, and the thing smiles. “Where the hell did you get him? I’ve never even seen… I’ve never seen anything like him.”

“He was a bounty.” You look up at Din, and clearly he can tell you’re horrified. “I didn’t know who, or what he was.”

You watch the little creature, who trusts you far too quickly for something that was clearly hunted by the likes of a Mandalorian. He yawns, speaking in little, incoherent mumbles before his eyes blink slower.

“Who would want to hurt a little guy like this?” His tiny hand wraps around one of your fingers, and you’re pretty sure you’re heart bursts.

“They’re dead.” His words are sharp and sure. It sends a cool shiver down your spine, but it’s definitely not fear.

You look back up at him, standing, and taking a step closer. Din holds your eyes for a moment, like he’s waiting for something.

You know he’s lethal. You aren’t surprised to hear he’s killed— he was a bounty hunter, and is a King. Neither of those titles are won by clean hands, not to mention the Darksaber at his side. If someone crossed him, or tried to take one of the few things he seemed to care about, you anything but surprised to hear they ended up dead.

“He’s sleeping.” You say to break the silence, and your voice drags Dins eyes away from your own.

“Here.” He reaches out, moving so close to you that you can feel the heat of his body. His real body— through the soft parts of him not covered by armour.

He scoops the sleeping form from you, and turns around, and it’s then that you notice the only other thing in the room. A hovering shape that opens on command, only to shut and float behind him once Din places his foundling in there. He’s so gentle with him. A man who just admitted to slaughtering what you can only assumed is dozens of people who got in his way, he’s surprisingly soft when he wants to be.

“Thank you. For letting me meet him.” You say, unsure of what to do next. Your hands go behind your back, eyes tracing the long vines wrapped around the frames of the greenhouse.

“I can never get him to sleep, but when I want him to stay awake, he passes out.” He stands in front of you, and even hidden under ten pounds of armour, he looks as awkward as ever. Your face splits into a grin, laughter softly shattering the careful barrier between you. “I wanted you to meet him. He’s… very important to me.”

“He’s very cute, too.”

“Grogu. That’s his name.” You try it out a few times, letting it familiarise itself in your accent.

“I like it. Nearly as much as Din Djarin. It has a nice ring to it.” You hum, and lean back against one of several wooden tables. It’s full of overgrown plants, some stretching onto the floor and splaying out under your feet.

Your hands dig into the wooden plank behind you, and the easy breathing from before is basically cut off the second he looks up at you again. It goes a little quiet, the whistle of soft wind floating over the top of the thin roof. You can’t stand the waiting around.

“Listen, you don’t… I don’t know exactly what you were planning; but I’ll say whatever you need me to when we leave here. The last thing I want to do is start this partnership off on the wrong foot.” He doesn’t say anything, conveniently finding the floor very interesting all of a sudden. “They told me about what you are meant to… do. And I don’t want you to— no, you don’t have to— can you say something so I can stop talking, please?”

Your heart was racing and you wanted to swallow your tongue if it would get you to stop throwing words around because yeah, maybe you did want him to take off that giant helmet because at the very least you’d be able to see if he was scowling or rolling his eyes or—

Laughing.

He was laughing at you.

Only a little, and you could only tell by the slight rise of his shoulders before he corrects himself and straigtens, but you catch it.

“Are you laughing at me.” You tilt your head, gaping slightly at him.

“No.”

“Asshole.” Rolling your eyes, you take a deep breath. An easier breath.

“It’s okay. We— no one’s coming.” You sigh and nod your head. “You did good today.”

“Seriously?” Now you’re the one who laughs. “I nearly froze the second I got up there! If you weren’t up there I would have fallen on my ass. It was like all those helmets were staring into my soul.”

“It’s an old tradition, but they were happy to see it revived. The Forge is special to my people. You being there— they were glad for it.”

“And this?” You ask tentatively, curiosity nipping at your heels and urging you off the wall a little closer to him. “Is this all an old tradition, too?”

He readjusts with your new closeness, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, he angles towards you, the crib his little baby was in only just visible behind his looming frame. He shrinks you with the long span of his shoulders, and you try not to let your eyes float lower.

“In the Old Ways, Mandalore observed very… reserved marriages.” He shifts again, nearly brushing you, and your heart beats audibly loud. “In most cases, a marriage was simply a well cooked meal and a question with an answer.”

“They just asked to be married. That was it?” He nods.

“Someone would present a gift, or a meal, some who were more intimate than others might try to make it special. But in most cases, nothing would change. They would just be. As they were before, but forever linked by the knowledge they shared. We would never know if anyone was married if they didn’t write it down, or share it with members of their clan. It wasn’t something that was shared in small groups, and no outsiders could ever tell the difference.”

“I’m guessing they weren’t fans of PDA back then, either.” He shrugs, the movement brushing your arm. “So, how’d they get to this whole thing, then?”

“As the Old Way shifted with time, so did their customs. Partners became more common, and they felt there was something missing from their relationship. Something that set them apart from the other members of their clan.” You go to answer, and bite your own tongue again before you can. “Physical touch. Intimacy. Simple touches, a kiss—“

“Partners didn’t kiss in the Old Way?”

“They never removed their helmets. Not to anyone.”

“So how did they…” He stares at you. He was really going to make you finish. “Or they didn’t…?”

“They did. At least, at some point, in some way probably. But mostly, The Way uses foundlings as a foundation for our people. Most Mandalorians’ don’t have any blood relatives in their clans, and if they did, they might not even know.” You make a small ‘huh’ sound. “But when the times shifted, it developed into the marriage system we have now, at least in the Old Way. The newer Mandalorians take on a more universal form of marriage, but the Old Way is still changed. A Mandalorian is to never remove their helmet in front of another living thing.”

“Yeah. I know that part.” You smile and gesture to him, and he stares back. He doesn’t move, his focus deadly and on you.

“When you become a partner of that Mandalorian, you are no longer another being. You become… one being. We remove our helmets, and all differences between us are bared. The things that keep us safe are torn away, and we rebuild to something new. Something connected— forever bound. You never take off your helmet in front of another living thing— but we are no longer seperate. They are a part of you until you take your last breath, and long past it.” You are spellbound. Mesmerised by his words— it’s the only way to describe it. He spoke so passionately about this, and it was hard not to feel the same. It was clear he took this very seriously, and although there was a bad taste in your mouth that you were taking this moment away from him, you couldn’t help but notice his word choice.

We are no longer seperate.

“You don’t have to show me.” You say softly, and he takes another step. He nods. “Ever. I wouldn’t take that from you.”

“This is The Way.” His hands hang by his sides.

“It’s not my way.” The slightest tilt of his head clues that you have his attention. “In my way of life, I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. And this— this is important to you. It should be something you share with someone special. Someone you care for.”

He says nothing, but his hands twitch just slightly, and for a second you think he’s going to go through with it.

“The only time I want you to take your helmet off, is when you want to. You’ve… you’ve been kind to me. Respectful of my wishes, and I want to do the same.”

“I’ve done nothing.”

“And it’s enough.” It was true. He had done nothing to make you feel out of place, or uncomfortable. He’d pushed none of your boundaries, and he’d offered to help secure a lead to search for your parents killers. This… it was the least you could do. “Besides. I’m traditional. If we’re going to do the whole ‘Way’ thing, we can do it the way those old dudes did. Helmet stays on. That’s the Way.”

“This.” He corrects.

“What?”

“This is The Way.”

“Stars. Okay, I’m going to whack you in the head with this olive branch I’m extending if you’re going to correct my grammar.” You raise your eyebrows, crossing your arms in front of you. “So… we’re good with this?”

He nods, and then says your name. His voice now is not wavering. It was full again, a brassy baritone surrounding the small space between you. “I had one more thing to say,”

You nod, and look down to your feet. He’d moved so close his beskar boots were nearly touching your toes. You didn’t move away.

“This is not how I saw myself getting married.”

“Great start.”

“I’m not— I’m saying it’s not what I imagined for myself. I’m not sure if I ever thought I would…” You nod. Wordlessly understanding. “When I agreed to this, I was still unsure. But, I I want you to know I have no doubts, now. Seeing you, hearing what my people think of you… your planet, your family— I will be what you need. I swear it on Mandalore herself. As long as it serves us, we will rule together, as equals.”

“Equals.” You blink at him, enthralled. It’s hard not to be. When someone as stoic as him speaks so passionately about you… it has an effect. Apparently, more of an effect than you were prepared for, because you find yourself having to think about the promises you made him yourself.

That this was just business. Just a professional contract.

“I want to rule with you. I won’t repeat my planets mistakes. I know an ally when I see one. A decent person. A good heart.” He faces you straight on, and it was the second time in the span of a few weeks you’d thought about how easy it would be for him to kiss you. If he was anyone else, you might have done it by now. “I want to do this with you by my side. And I want to be by yours.”

You didn’t have words. For a Queen that had an affinity for charm, to weave a web of intricate patterns of conversation and pull information out of the coolest of characters, Din Djarin left you utterly speechless. You couldn’t stop your hand as it reached for him.

He looked down instantly, watching the bare skin of your hand graze over the pauldron of his armour. The contrast did something to him. You know it. He locked onto it like a trained missile, tracking the light trace of your gentle fingers until they stopped just before his elbow. You shudder a breath, and whisper to him that you want that too.

His hand moves next, a calculated move that holds the wrist of your free arm. The shift means he has to step forward, bringing himself to press against you. Your eyelashes flutter, nearly brushing beskar, as he slowly tilts your arm up and intertwines your fingers. The melt of your hand in his rests between both your heaving chests, and he tries to speak. Whispers your name so lowly you wouldn’t hear it unless it was as deadly quiet as it is.

He raises your interlocked hands up higher, and there’s only one place they would be going. Only one destination that he’s chosen. When your knuckles bump lightly on the sharp edge of his helmet, you bite down your tongue. The cool beskar disappears as he moves your hands just a bit lower and dip them under… and he’s soft there. A soft, giving material hidden under the hardest metal known to the discovered universe, and then he pushes you up.

The whole thing probably takes less than a few seconds, but time nearly slows to a stop with his hands in yours. He was going to show you what equals meant. He was going to show you him. Your chest was tight, body locked in a way that only the parts he was touching were lose and mouldable. You want to… you want to see him. This is something you want, because he wants it.

Your own fingers stretch out, and the helmet moves half an inch upwards.

There’s a sliver of skin. A tanned, cut jaw that you catch, and you shuffle closer, entranced. It’s selfish and dangerous but you want to be closer, want to rip the helmet off him like a kid at christmas, impatient and shaking.

Just as you indulged your most selfish desire in the slightest, leaned forward so you could press the thin wave of your dress closer, an earth-shattering boom came from outside, and the sandy ash of the desert painted the entire world bright orange. You were thrown to the side, glass breaking under your weight as you went flying into the misted glass of the greenhouse. You heard him shout your name; something strong, something to cling to as your head slumped toward the concrete floors.

The last thing you saw was his gloved hands reaching for you before everything went black.

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honeybeefae · 1 year

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Valentine's Mini Fic // Rhysand

Please idk why these fics have started off with angst but I guess im just a sucker for a little hurt and comfort. Either that or I enjoy the drama lol! Enjoy the second mini-fic featuring our favorite High Lord! < 3

WARNINGS: None

Trope: Fling Turns Into Something More

Sneaking around with a High Lord’s son was thrilling and dangerous, never knowing what exactly you would get led into but always willing to jump head first. Rhysand and you had met during a night out in Velaris, with both of you being almost too drunk to remember going home with each other.

However that next weekend you both ended up in the same bar, with the same people, and for the last two months you’ve been seeing each other almost every other day. He had made it clear that it was a fling, never staying the night and never crossing the line from casual to something more.

And you couldn’t lie…the longer you saw him, the harder it got. You knew, you knew, you couldn’t have him. He was the next ruler of the Night Court, destined for greatness, and you were just one of his subjects. Your family wasn’t affluent in the political world, you held no real power.

It was doomed from the start but you couldn’t resist him. He had you from the moment he called you “Darling” in that deep, smooth tone. You were head over heels for a man who would forget you as soon as he ascended to his full potential. Reality was a hard pill to swallow but you’d rather have small moments than nothing.

Tonight was no different as you waited at the bar, swirling a cocktail around and around as your eyes kept glancing to the entrance. He was late but you didn’t stress, finishing the rest of your glass while making small conversation with the bartender.

But after your third drink and still no signs of him, you got worried. Had something happened? Was he in trouble? The questions were swirling around in your tipsy mind as you slid out of the barstool and manuevered through the crowd to get outside.

The cold air wrapped around you like a caress, sobering you up some as you started to look around for Rhys. There were small groups scattered across the road and alleyway but none of them had him lurking within them. You frowned and continued down the street, trying to convince yourself that everything was okay.

“Oh come on Rhys, you wouldn’t have entertained me this long if you weren’t interested.”

You stopped in your tracks when you heard the sultry voice say his name, a terrible feeling growing in your stomach as you continued to listen.

“Sarra, darling-” Rhysand grunted, trying to get around her as you got closer. You could make out two figures, one much smaller than the other, pressed against a brick wall. The lamplight above your head provided just enough light to watch as her long, red nails ran down his chest.

“Don’t give me that look, darling. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you…I know you’ve missed me.” Sarra purred, molding her body against his. It made you physically sick.

Rhysand wasn’t yours, he never was, you told yourself that every single night…so why did it feel like your heart was bleeding out onto the wet cobblestone?

A sob was trying to work its way out of your throat as you stepped back, scuffing your shoe and drawing the attention of the male who, for the first time since meeting, you did not want to see.

“Y/N?” Rhys called, furrowing his brows. You drew in a shaky breath and shook your head, cursing as a tear fell while you started making your way back home.

“Damn it, Y/N! Y/N!” He shouted, pushing off the woman without a care and following after you. The people in the streets were watching, whispering to each other, but he didn’t care. “Y/N, stop!”

You ignored him, the image of the two of them burned into your eyes as you picked up the pace. It was only a few more steps to your door and luckily the streets were becoming more crowded, making losing him easier.

But just as you unlocked your door and slipped inside, you felt a cool breeze wisp past you at the same time the smell of citrus hit your nose. A loud sigh blew past your lips as you shut the door, turning to glare at the next High Lord with all the contempt you could muster.

However, when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the back wall, you looked pitiful instead.

“What you saw out there-” Rhysand began but you held up your hand, closing your eyes briefly to take a deep breath.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Rhys.” You whispered, removing your shoes and coat. “I mean, you said from the start that this was casual. It’s silly of me to expect loyalty for a casual fling, right? We were always both free to do, to see whoever we wanted.”

His jaw was clenched as you brushed past him to your kitchen, grabbing a glass of water to calm down your racing heart. This was probably the last time you were going to see him and despite your true feelings, you didn’t want to end this on a bad note.

“Y/N…” He tried again, frowning as your hand shakily brought the glass of water to your lips. “That woman was someone I used to see, I was on my way to you when she stopped me.”

“Rhys, please,” You asserted, staring down at the counter. “I told you I understood. You can go back to her, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

The question, the sincerity in his voice, it broke what little resolve you had left. Why did he care? What did it matter anymore? You should’ve told him to leave, should’ve never gotten so involved with him.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as wave after wave of emotions washed over you. Rhys knew, his concern growing as the silence stretched and you didn’t so much as blink. He cautiously walked over to you and gently grazed your shoulder, calling out to you, and the dam holding everything back cracked.

“Why do you care?” You snapped, whirling around with hot tears stinging your eyes. “This entire relationship you made it clear it was never more, that it could never be more. What do my feelings matter to you?”

“They have always mattered to me. How could you think they didn’t?” He insisted, pinning you between the counter and his body so that you couldn’t escape. “Do you think me that cruel?”

“I think of you as a High Lords' son, the future ruler of the Night Court. I think of us, of all the nights where you’ve left me alone after we’ve had our fun, and I think of how naive I am to wish for more.” You replied, the truth heavy on your tongue as you made eye contact with him for the first time that night. “My feelings shouldn’t matter to you. I knew what this was when I got into it. I knew one day it would come crashing down, that it might destroy me, and I thought I could handle it.”

Rhysand’s eyes filled with pain, his thumb brushing away a tear that was rolling down your cheek. You wanted to push him away, not wanting to fall any deeper in love but your heart knew you were already at rock bottom.

“I wish I could say this was a mistake but despite how much I’m hurting…I know I will never regret knowing you, Rhysand. If this is how our story ends, if this is goodbye, please end it happily.”

You steeled yourself for the goodbye, biting down on the inside of your lip to try to keep yourself from breaking until he was gone, but were taken off guard when he bent down and claimed your lips in a soft, passionate kiss.

His hands landed on your waist, his chest warm against yours as your lips molded perfectly against his own. You couldn’t stop your arms from wrapping around his neck, savoring his unique taste and the comfort his embrace brought you.

The two of you stayed locked together for several moments, time seeming to stop around you until he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours.

“Do you think I could kiss someone like that if I didn’t harbor feelings for them as well, Y/N Darling?” Rhys breathed into your ear, drawing small circles into your hips. “What we have between us…it has grown into something that has consumed my every waking moment. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you but I was afraid…”

“Afraid?” You questioned, your heart soaring at his words. It felt like this was all a dream but if it was, you didn’t want to wake up. You would gladly stay in this dream world with him forever. “Afraid of what?”

“What being mine would entail, the danger of my world.” His breath was warm against your cheek, those violet eyes staring into your soul. “I had half convinced myself you were better off without me…until I realized that I have been falling for you since the night we first met.”

Your hand came up and cupped his cheek, a small laugh bubbling out of your chest at the absurdity of his statement. Rhysand, the next ruler of the Night Court, was in love with you? You were truly going to have to pinch yourself all over.

“You cruel thing, do not laugh at me.” He smirked, tilting your chin up so he could look at you.

“I’m not laughing at you, my lord.” You teased, gazing up at him through your lashes. “I’m laughing at this situation, I feel like I’m in a dream.”

“Well, I can promise you that you are not. Perhaps we can go upstairs and I can show you just how awake you are?”

You grinned, rolling your eyes at his antics. The rollercoaster of emotions you had just been on had you feeling fatigued but you couldn’t resist his offer. There was just one thing you needed to hear again.

“Perhaps…but I want to hear you say it again.” You asked softly, playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck.

Rhysand smiled lovingly, lifting you onto the counter so you were eye to eye. “Y/N Darling…I love you.”

Your heart was on its way to bursting out of your chest as you captured this memory in your brain, knowing you would replay it for the rest of your life. You kissed him fiercely, mumbling the same words back to him between kisses, as he carried you up the stairs and into bed.

#acotar fic #rhysand #rhysand x reader #rhysand reader #rhysand acotar #acotar imagine #rhys acotar #rhys x reader #rhys x reader acotar #rhysand x reader acotar #mini fic #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

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rowniebow · 1 year

Text

and they were roommates | peter parker x male!reader | 3/7

summary: microwave, pancakes, and a mother.

pairings: tasm!peter parker x male!reader

cw: death and cursing but idk does there really need to be a cw for cursing

word count: 2.9k+

an: i hope someone is liking this as much as i am haha...

previous ⭒ masterlist ⭒ next

⭒

"what is this?"

you glanced over your shoulder and the back of the couch to find peter sitting at the island of your shared kitchen staring at the television screen. you wondered when he got there and how you didn't notice him watching with you.

"a movie."

"what movie?" he rolled his eyes a bit at your response.

"forest gump," you shoved the popcorn you had made into your mouth. "you've never seen it?"

"no, why?"

"it's a classic!"

"aunt may and uncle ben weren't the biggest on family movie nights."

you shrugged a little, and patted the seat next to you on the couch. when he sat and made himself comfortable, you silently offered the popcorn to him, which he denied.

the last half of the movie that he had joined you for was enjoyed by the two of you in a comfortable silence.

when the movie finally ended, peter glared at the credits. "that was nice, i guess, but why is it a classic? it's no star wars or lord of the rings-" his eyes fell away from the scrolling words and onto your slouched body.

your body uncomfortably drooped over itself, your chin falling to your chest. peter almost winced from the pain it looked like your neck would be in if you stayed like that for much longer.

he, gentle and smooth as ever, slowly snuck the popcorn bowl from your hands and quietly sat it on the coffee table. he fetched a pillow and throw blanket from your room, propping the pillow on the arm of the couch. he gently pushed you over and onto the couch into a more comfortable fashion, hand on the side of your face to monitor how fast you fell onto the pillow. he laid the blanket out over your body, tucking you in and silencing the television before it could wake you.

he let out a heavy sigh when he watched you cuddle yourself into the couch-bed he had made you. he was practically sweating trying to make it all okay enough for you. he glared at the time, finding it to be awfully late, as per usual with him.

he tip-toed his way to his own bedroom, his sights lingering on you from his doorframe.

⭒⭒

peter awoke on a bright sunday morning to find you at the island, enjoying a bowl of extremely sugary cereal that he remember very vividly criticizing you for, even though it was his guilty pleasure cereal and he just so happened to be trying to eat better at that moment and was just mad that they stayed tempting him in the cupboard.

"these are so bad for you, y/n."

"you say that like i care."

"well- you should! your body is a vessel. everyone should take care of their body."

"if you're seriously trying to talk me into eating plain ass cheerios with you... some battles you have to fight on your own, peter, and your bland cereals is one of them."

"i'm not! i just think you should be more mindful of your cereals."

"you only live once, parker."

"you won't be living long at all with that big ass bowl."

today, peter thought, he'd join you in the short happy life club with your unhealthy cereal and got himself a bowl.

"oh, peter!"

"yes?" he spoke absentmindedly as he poured himself the cereal then milk groggily.

"i've been forgetting to tell you all week: i have to leave soon for a while. i'm not sure when i'll be back but i shouldn't be too long."

peter couldn't help but let his neck snap so he could look you in the eyes. neither of you had gone any where for an extended period of time since you two moved in.

"what? where are you going?"

"ah, my mom is sick in a hospital in jersey, so i'm gonna go be with her."

peter looked over your face, jaw nearly dropping at your unmoving features. "y-your mom is in the hospital? i'm sorry, are you okay?" his voice was weirdly soft, a caring part of him you hadn't seen before

you almost laughed at his words, "yeah, i'm fine, thanks."

peter thought over your actions for a moment. he quickly came to the realization that this was, yet another thing, that he didn't know anything about of his roommate of nearly seven months now. frankly, he didn't even know you had a mom. he assumed not since you told him you've been moved out since so young. did you have a dad, too?

"w-what is she sick with?"

you looked up at peter. seemingly shocked at his interest.

"she - well, she's had cancer for a year or two now. the doctors told me she's on her way out." peter looked at you and your features, at how nonchalant you were despite the gravity of this conversation. he looked as though he were studying you with wonder under a microscope. "i shouldn't be gone more than a week."

peter wanted to ask why you seemed to not care so badly.

you were tempted to tell him without him verbally asking (his expression really gave away his thoughts).

you only smiled, though, deciding to play oblivious.

and peter saw your smile, your genuine smile, and let his thoughts move along to the fact that you'd be gone for about a week.

you would be gone.

peter expected himself to be giddy at the thought of the apartment all to himself. he expected to have butterflies in his stomach out of excitement for you to be no where around for days straight.

he furrowed his eyebrows, however, when he felt his stomach swell with sickness at the thought. his chest became heavy and suddenly it was as though he was heaving to breathe.

you would be gone.

"are you already packed, then?"

"yes,"

"are you going to catch a cab to the airport?"

"yes,"

"do you want me to come with?"

"come with me to see my mother die?"

"sure! or just the cab ride, if you want?"

silence.

"for safety, of course."

"i think i can handle myself, pete. thanks, though."

peter's eyebrows were knitted together, creases clawed at his skin.

"are you-," you giggled to yourself a bit. "is peter parker going to miss me?"

"fuck no. i'm going to be living my dream while your gone!" lies.

"oh yeah?"

"for sure. i'm going to bring all my friends over and we'll party and make a mess on your bed." lies.

"really now?"

"absolutely." lies. lies lies!

"okay, i'm sure excited to hear about all zero of your friends hanging out and making a mess out of my bed when i get back."

you gathered your dishes and washed your bowl and spoon.

"i'll see you when i get back! have a good time with your zero friends!"

"yeah, whatever." he grumbled.

your footsteps disappeared down the small entrance hallway and out of the door along with your voice wishing one last goodbye.

peter looked around the now empty and silent apartment.

the time was two twenty-three, mid afternoon. he had woken up a lot later than usual, a lot later than you and he could tell.

the apartment was practically spotless. dishes, done and put away (other than the bowl and spoon you used). floor, swept and vacuumed. couch, fluffed pillows and peter's favorite throw blanket sat along the back. coffee table, wiped down and television remotes sat symmetrical with the sides. the microwave, still dirty but he was well aware of the silent protest you two had over it so he never considered that.

you went through the effort of cleaning the apartment so it would be nice for him while he was gone.

peter finally groaned into the silence. it had been less than a minute and it was already unbearable.

and that pissed him off.

he couldn't go one minute without you here in the apartment. jesus christ. he made his way to his room, ready to angrily blast his comfort playlist, abandoning his forgotten bowl of sugar on the counter.

⭒⭒⭒

throughout the week you were gone, peter was angry.

he found himself yelling into his mattress when he found himself craving the song you always play on repeat. he found himself yelling even more when he couldn't remember the name of it, and he was not about to text you to ask.

he found himself sitting at the island alone, grimacing at the taste of his pancakes because they were so bad compared to yours. he didn't know what he did wrong to make them so bad, he used the exact same two dollar box mix that you did.

he found himself sneaking into your room to light the candle that you always had going, that was very against the rules your landlord set for your apartment and peter always scolded you about but you never listened. ("parker if you think that man gives a shit about anything other than our rent you are insane,").

he found himself rewatching movies he had never seen before living with you. forest gump, wizard of oz, home alone. you judged him a lot for not seeing these before. you even watched some of the horror films, despite not liking horror, just because they were your favorite.

and peter? man, peter was mad. the thought never left his mind: why does he want you home so bad? were you truly that big of an improvement in his life?

maybe peter was just sad that he had to be alone. oh, but he never really had problems being alone before.

he wanted to scream! he missed you. horribly.

⭒⭒⭒⭒

on the seventh day of your absence, peter had grown worried.

you said not more than a week, hadn't you?

are you for sure going to be back today then?

did something happen?

should he check the news?

were you okay?

his eyes were glued to the news on the television for hours. his lips were gnawed raw.

he, honestly, hadn't even realized you were consuming his thoughts. he went about his day as if this new found obsession was a daily occurrence for him.

in some ways, perhaps it was.

the way you sat on his shoulder in the grocery store, imaginary nagging running through his mind as he sorted through the ice cream flavors.

the way you always seemed to be haunting him in the pictures he captured for work. behind the building, on the power lines, sitting in that empty chair.

the way you cling to his back while he swung through the skies at night. were you going to be up waiting for him all night again (the answer is always yes.)? should he go home early? he knows you have a big day at work tomorrow.

peter didn't think anything of this, though. i mean, you were constantly around him. the two of you, even if it wasn't always positive, never ceased your conversations.

in the mornings rolling your eyes over breakfast.

in the afternoons on the weekends, struggling to deal with whatever rash temperature new york brought into your shitty run down apartment.

up late at night, struggling to watch a movie and instead pointing out annoyances within each other.

it's only natural that you were always in his mind.

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

on the ninth day that you were gone, peter had made his decision.

after many hours of careful consideration and contemplation, he has decided to text you.

a small sentence. maybe two. nothing fancy.

nothing to show you at all what has been consuming him the last week.

"are you coming home soon?"

no, no! that's too... desperate, he thought.

"hey, did your trip get extended?"

ew! that 'hey' is too much, good lord.

"come back i need you to go to the store"

...no, that might be a bit too mean.

peter was practically pulling his hair out. why was he so nervous about a simple text, he'd never know. he let his phone fall next to his head, a loud groan pounding it's way through his lips.

he glared at the ceiling of his room, his bedroom door open as if he expected you to come in complaining any moment now.

after several moments of staring at the popcorn textured white sky, he shakily picked his phone back up.

"you okay? thought it was only going to be a week?"

his eyebrows were knitted together at his words. he wasn't happy with them, but he was satisfied.

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

you felt your phone buzz in your pocket and lord have mercy on whoever was texting you right now. who could be bothering to interrupt your peace with your self in this one, small moment? a small moment that was meant for you and no one else? a small moment where you could let yourself be?

tears threatened your eyes in frustration as you breathed calming breaths. a shakey hand reached into your pocket, lines of vulgar thoughts running through your head.

peter parker: "you okay? thought it was only going to be a week?"

you nearly threw your phone out of fright. since when did peter text you? you two basically only had each other's information in case of emergency.

was this an emergency? you didn't think so.

you supposed it could have been. you did say a week. peter was probably thinking you had died in some tragedy because of your lack of contact.

your breath stopping nearly choked you.

peter was texting you? he was thinking about you? about when you'd be back?

no, certainly he just hasn't been cleaning or needs groceries. maybe he really did follow through with his threat and was trying to have people over.

what were you to say back, though?

"sorry, i meant to text you-"

no you didn't, don't lie! you didn't think he was giving a second thought about when you'd be back.

"i’m all good, thank you for asking!-"

no, no! thank you for asking? what kind of bullshit fake ass response is that.

"oh i'm great. mother died, see you soon."

you chuckled to yourself a bit at the thought of that one. you personally would laugh at the blatancy but you supposed most people wouldn't appreciate the sour attempt at a joke.

you tapped the phone on your head, attempting to knock a socially acceptable response out of it. a shaken breath concluded your thoughts, assuring yourself that whatever response given would be brushed over, anyway.

"my fault! i'll be home late tomorrow"

yeah, yeah, for sure. that's very cool, calm, and collected of you. very mature response. absolutely doesn't let anything on at all.

you escaped the broom closet you were hiding in. you left your small moment.

you left your one small moment of peace with your self. a small moment that was meant for you and no one else. a small moment that was meant for being alone, and was infiltrated by peter parker, all the way from new york.

and you weren't mad.

maybe even glad.

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

it was extremely late when the door to your apartment creaked open (a new issue about the shit hole to try and solve).

peter had decided to stay home to greet you when the clock struck nine at night and you still weren't back yet. he and decided to refrain from his nightly endeavors.

so when the door creaked open after he had passed out on the couch to the sound of car alarms going off on the street below and light tapping against the window, his sensitive ears perked up and his dizzy body came with them.

he sat up alarmed and saw you immediately (thank god for the front door being a straight shot from the couch).

he saw your tired eyes and new creases between your brows.

he saw your chewed lips that were too similar to his own.

he saw your drenched clothes from the pouring rain and your wet hair.

he saw you as your whole and full self and wanted to run and scoop you up in his arms.

but he refrained, of course.

"h-hey!" he watched you struggle through the door with your small suitcase.

"hi, pete,"

"how was your trip?"

you laughed a bit. you would hardly consider that shit show a trip. "it was fine. did you have your friends over?"

peter saw your tired smile and couldn't help but smile too. "oh yeah, your room is totally trashed."

"great," your dropped everything in the small kitchen. a sigh escaping your lips as you rummaged through the fridge that was oddly full.

peter watched you pull out a box of left over pizza he had the day before... for breakfast.

he missed your pancakes a lot.

"how was your mom?"

"oh, she-you know. passed. that's why i was staying longer than i thought. her funeral was yesterday."

peter didn't understand you. how you were speaking so casually about the death of someone who you were close to - who he assumed you had been close to. but he wanted to understand.

you obviously weren't that close based off of your actions. maybe you were in shock, he thought.

"i’m-i’m sorry to hear that," he tensely watched you, anxiety dropping like a pit when you went to throw your pizza in the microwave.

"yeah- did you-?" you stared into the microwave. "did you clean the microwave?" your eyebrows were furrowed and your face was only accusatory. as if it upset you.

"yeah, i got tired of it." and hand shot up to scratch the hairline on his neck.

"oh, okay," you started the microwave and watched the seconds count down. peter went to say something but you spoke again.

"thanks,"

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

peter cleaned the entire apartment, and the microwave, for you as soon as you said you'd be home the next day.

⭒ next ⭒

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around1302 · 1 year

Text

XIV. CHEAP WINE

SPARE PARTS: a series (14/20)

PARIS, FRANCE

(W) strong language, alcohol use, oral (female receiving), (implant protected) sex, fingering.

5k of a lot of angst and pining, so beware lol

a/n yes i did link a visual of one of the sex positions i describe (not porn, real educational stuff i swear) because i felt like i was doing a shit job of explaining it. IN MY DEFENCE i’m a lesbian. idk how straight positions be working, okay!

THIRD PERSON’S POV

Harry can narrow down where he realised he had it a little too bad for Charlie Greene to roughly one moment.

Circa 2016, when they were freshly recognised and began the recording process of their first album. When they were all still practically strangers, suddenly flung into this new world of songwriters and producers and media scrutiny. When Harry was late to their first ever recording session, and Charlie ripped into him so hard even Paula (ambitiously taking on five teenagers with mediocre talent and a dream) had an ounce of respect for her.

All he remembers was standing there in his ugly (but defensibly comfortable) purple trainers, fists shoved into an old hoodie pocket, jaw clenched and mouth set just… watching her. She was so stressed out and so mad, but Harry couldn’t give two shits. All he could do was stare at her mouth and imagine what it would be like to leap forward and shut her up with his own.

But he didn’t. Harry made a dumb joke about how hot she looked in that top, and decided to make dumb jokes every time he had that same urge. That all-consuming, stomach-churning urge that he thought would die the more he told himself to hate her. He managed to half convince himself she was nothing more than a stuck-up princess who only ever cared about whether he was late or high or covered in hickies he thought would work as a cover for any cracks.

Which they did. A little too well.

It’s why Harry’s watching her laugh with Zayn from behind her glass of red, and why he can’t do anything about the way Zayn’s eyes undress her in that dress. Fuck, that dress. Harry hasn't been able to let his eyes wander for more than two seconds at a time, because this is a fancy establishment and his trousers forgive nothing. Every time his gaze trickled down the neckline or to the creases that tugged at her waist he felt my trousers tighten, forcing him to cough and shift and think about something else till he can’t help but steal another look.

Around 0.2 seconds into his allotted time, Amelia’s chair squeaks against the floor and her ring tapping the edge of her wineglass silences the table. Harry’s eyes stay on Charlie a beat longer across the table, watching how she shifts in her seat and gives him a whole other angle to ache after.

He coughs and shifts and thinks about something else.

“I just wanted to say that I’m so proud of you guys,” Amelia keeps her voice low, despite the vacancy of the restaurant. There has to be a maximum of five other tables in here, considering the group stayed three hours after their last bites. “It’s been amazing to watch you all grow over the last six years, and to see it this close up is such an honour.”

Niall looks at Amelia like he could propose right there and then. Harry feels a twinge of jealousy he mislabels as happiness for his friends.

“And to Poppy,” she holds her glass in Charlie’s direction. Harry steals another glance. This time, though, his chest lurches in a different way. Her eyes gloss over and her lips twitch in that wobbly way that says she’s holding back a sob, “she’d be so proud of you, babe.”

Charlie smiles sadly, tilting her head as if saying the words ‘thank you’ aloud would burst that lump she’s visibly trying to swallow. So, Harry reaches for his glass to do it for her.

“To Poppy.”

Charlie’s head whips to face his, a tear escaping her and running a path down her cheek. Harry holds her stare, nodding toward her as everyone raises their glass in a cheer.

Then his eyes flicker lower, to the jewels encompassing her smooth neck, and his mind flashes to a few hours ago.

Returned from the graveyard and sprung with the news they’d all be going out to some sophisticated dinner in Poppy’s honour – Charlie called Harry in her room for a rant. Her subconscious would call it company, but she would never dare admit that.

Harry willingly complied, posted up on the bed while Charlie flurried around her room in a tornado of glitter and dress options and heels, whining about how going to a fancy dinner is the last thing she wanted to do and that she loves her friends – she really does – but how can they make this same mistake so many times?

Somewhere between grumbling about the uncomfortablity of stilettos and the way the airlines had tarnished the floral scent of her favourite perfume, Charlie struggled with her necklace. Harry, eyes lasered to her every movement, had been staring at her fingers tangling with the metal for five minutes before he had to do something about it himself.

“Here,” he mumbled, his tone somewhat annoyed as he rose from the bed and stood behind her in the mirror. He shooed her hands away, ignoring her confused mutterings to focus on the task at hand.

Charlie, albeit brows furrowed and a line of questioning stuck in her throat, just… watched him. She didn’t even notice her lips curling as his forehead crinkled and his tongue poked at his bottom lip in concentration, and she definitely didn’t notice the sigh that left her lips when he locked her necklace in place and trailed his knuckles lightly against the open back of Charlie’s silk dress.

When he looked up to meet her gaze in the glass, he fought a smile at the way she was looking at him. It made his stomach twist and knot and he knew he was only tumbling deeper into the rabbit hole with every second he held her stare, but he also thought he’d die if he looked away.

“What?” Harry deadpanned, trying to regain some lucidity.

Charlie bit her lip, dimming her grin as she turned and thumbed at the curls straddling his collar. Harry swallowed thickly.

“You know, we could just not go to this dinner.”

“We have to.” Harry lilted, his attempt at biting that smile back starting to fail.

“Do we?” Charlie toyed with the material of his shirt, swaying him closer. He inhaled sharply, hands flying to her waist as her perfume (which, to him, was most definitely not tarnished) swallowed him whole.

“I sometimes think you’re trying to kill me, Greene,” Harry nudged her nose, kissing her chastely once on the lips before preserving with some self control, “res' is at eight, hurry it up.”

Blinking back to the bleak reality of realising he was an idiot for not taking up Charlie’s offer, Louis says the best thing Harry’s heard all night.

“Anyone fancy shots?”

“M’trying to fuck the guy in the black suit, y’think I have a chance?”

Harry smiles, trying not to laugh at Charlie in the middle of this badly lit bar. They (finally) moved from the restaurant to the first place they could find, which happened to be this kind of dingy looking dive bar down the street from their hotel. Trashy, but apparently not enough to stop them from welcoming the sticky tables and knock-off vodka.

Charlie’s had a few more than the rest of them and has been leaning into Harry’s side of the crimson booth, adorned with holes and stretch marks, for the last ten minutes, feeding him the worst pickup lines he’s ever heard.

It’s so far been the best ten minutes of his life.

“You know,” Harry shifts, moving his arm so it rests behind Charlie’s now slightly mussed curls tangled from the dancing with Amelia and Niall only half an hour ago. Her sleepy eyes drift into something tranquil, safe - something he could relax into and get lost in - but he keeps his cool, “if you keep hitting on the guy in the black suit, you’re going to scare the poor fucker away.”

Harry’s lying. He knows that. She knows that. Not a thing in the world right now could drive him away. But she gasps dramatically and feigns offence regardless. He bites his bottom lip to try and reign his grin back a bit.

He fails.

“Y’think m’comin’ on too strong?”

Harry squints, pinching his index finger and thumb and trying his hardest not to imagine what it would be like to pinch her chin.

“Well,” Charlie abruptly stands, swaying slightly. He rushes to steady her waist, but pulls his hand away before anyone can see. Everyone was already confused by the day they spent together, the whole ‘crying in his shoulder at a graveyard’ ordeal. A tipsy hand on the waist would completely screw them, “in that case.”

Harry’s chest doesn’t drop until hes sees her palm find Zayn’s bicep by the bar while he talks to someone serving drinks, Zayn’s interest in the bartender seemingly dropping the second Charlie touches him. Harry’s jaw tightens and he clears his throat to stop any stupid, responsive lump forming. His eyes harden on the contact – the way she makes him instantly laugh, the way he tucks one of those stray curls behind her ear, the way he looks at her like she made the sun.

“Es-tu seul, mon amour?”

Harry’s gaze tears away, landing on someone tall and blonde and fucking gorgeous, but he can still see Zayn and Charlie laughing together in his peripheral and his retinas burn beneath the sight.

“Sorry, I don’t speak French.”

He can’t even bother to convincingly lie about his knowledge of the language. He knows this mystery woman is asking him if he’s alone, and he knows she’s about to offer one of the drinks in her hand up. Harry looks at Charlie and Zayn again.

“Mind if I sit?”

He pokes his tongue in his cheek, waiting for Charlie to look back at him with a playful glint, some sort of hope or hint that she’s only messing with him and she’s going to come back to him any minute.

She doesn’t.

“I’d love it if you did,” Harry forces himself to smirk, “one of those for me, darling?”

The group had been dropping like flies for the last hour. Niall and Amelia had left after they had gotten predictably close to fucking in the bar’s bathrooms, and Liam had to take Zayn back to the hotel after one too many shots. Louis has been in the corner with a brunette, flirting badly yet oddly successfully for the last ten minutes. Leaving only Charlie and Harry at war with each other.

It started when Charlie turned and saw Harry with the girl who bought him a drink, smile on her face, expecting to see him seething with jealousy. When that wasn’t the case, an unfamiliar feeling of something undiagnosed bubbled within her chest, and she sought out the first person (who was not Zayn) who would make Harry feel like she had.

That was roughly an hour ago.

Now, Charlie’s dancing against a stranger to shitty jukebox music and Harry’s doing a terrible job of pretending to be apart of the conversation he’s meant to be having with a girl he’s pretty sure is a done deal.

Except he doesn’t want her. The girl he wants is grinding her ass against some sleezebag’s boner while he gawks at the fact a woman that beautiful would actually give him the time of day. Charlie’s eyes, hazy, have been set on Harry’s the whole time. Her teeth sinking into her bottom lip every time she saw his throat bob or his jaw tighten, letting that bubble in her chest melt with every solidification Harry is dripping in jealousy. His fist is clenched so hard around his glass it’s a surprise it hasn’t smashed, and when the poor girl speaking to him says something else he can’t be bothered to faux-listen to, he brashly apologises to go and rip Charlie away from her toy.

“Hey, man!” The guy, tall and broad and the blueprint of all Chads, booms as Harry grips Charlie’s bicep and pulls her away from the asshole. Despite the desired effect being achieved, Charlie frowns and yanks her arm from Harry’s harsh grip, his rings already having left blush indents in her brown skin.

“Charlie, quit playing. We’re going.”

Harry’s never liked that feeling of jealousy. He could never place it before – but now he realises that was because he was stuck for years unable to do a thing about it. In this moment, a moment where he can do something about it, all he wants is to get away from this suspect bar and fuck some sense into her.

“No, you’re not the boss of me,” Charlie had sobered several gross men ago, and in all honesty wanted nothing more than to leave. But she has a point to prove, God dammit. Whether that’s to herself or Harry, she’s unsure, but she’s going to prove it regardless.

“Let her be, dude. We were havin’ fun.”

The guy’s American, and Harry can’t help but roll his eyes at his Texan drawl as he tries to assert some all-man, all-masculine dominance. It’s so unbelievably predictable.

“You’re not allowed to tell me what to do, remember?” Charlie spits, forgetting entirely about the guy behind her. Harry was halfway through staring daggers into his soul before his gaze drops to Charlie. “No strings and all that. Go back to whoever you were planning on fucking tonight.”

“Charlie, you’re drunk–”

“I’m in a bar, dad. Fuck off.”

Harry can’t help but laugh. Bitter and humourless, but shit can he not do this anymore.

“Yeah–”

“Shut up!” The two of them shout simultaneously, Charlie being long tired of this guy who two minutes ago was gripping her waist a little too tight, breathing down her neck a little too heavily. He was gross, and not her main concern right now.

“Jesus,” Chad murmurs, ego deflated, “crazy bitches out here.”

He saunters off in search of another mission, leaving Harry and Charlie at the bar.

Harry licks his lips, running his hand through his hair as he tries to collect what he wants to say. He doesn’t want to do it in this bar, in this situation, surrounded by the potency of cheap alcohol, but he knows better than to try and drag Charlie out again – so here it is.

“I get you wanted no strings,” his throat runs dry, “but that’s just not very fucking realistic anymore, Charlie. I care about you enough to know I don’t like seeing some pervert grind on you like that, and by the way you were staring at me, you fucking know that.”

Charlie folds her arms across her chest, hiding the way she anxiously plucks at her nails.

She doesn’t like Harry. That would be absurd. He’s been nothing but a pain in her ass for the last six years, he’ll fuck anything that moves, he’s unreliable, messy, moody. A dickhead, an annoyance, a tease, a kiss, a touch, a fuck.

The lines begin to blur, and the easiest thing to do when those lines cross is to give in to either box Harry fits into. To either yell at him or get an orgasm out of him – but then he holds her in his hotel bed, or spends the day being Paris’ worst tour guide to distract her from Poppy’s grave, or holds her while she sobs into his chest because she can’t face her sister.

She hates him even more for it.

“What are you saying?” Charlie utters. With the way Harry’s glued to her lips, it doesn’t matter they’re surrounded by chatter and music and 1 AM bar background – he hears every word as if it’s whispered in his ear.

Harry searches her eyes, trying to figure out how she’d respond if he said he’s saying he wants to know her in the morning as he does at night. That he wants to stop having to act like her presence annoys him when really it’s the only thing that’s kept him grounded all these years. That he wants to hear about her day, and hold her hand, and have her scream at him for domestic, stupid shit like how he forgot to wash up again rather than have her scream at him for being covered in hickies from someone he wishes is her.

“Fuck it,” Charlie sighs. She doesn’t have to wholly admit it to herself, that maybe she does crave Harry’s touch a little more than she should, but she can act on it in the only way she knows how. “Let’s just go back to the hotel.”

Harry’s tongue pokes in his cheek and he realises as she brushes past him that he’s been his own worst enemy this whole time.

Charlie pushes him against her hotel door once they reach the safety of the dim room, his lips quickly melting against hers — the action’s muscle memory at this point. He brings his hands up to her face, thumb brushing her jaw as he kisses her back, swallowing her sharp breaths and low moans as their tongues tangle.

When her hands trail lower, tugging on his belt loops, Harry pulls away.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Charlie pants against his mouth, her dress straps draping her shoulders. Harry’s eyes follow the thin silk, his warm fingers tracing her neck and giving her goosebumps (to which he tries to hide his smile) as he hoists them back up.

“Let’s just move slower, yeah?” Harry nudges her nose with his, his lips just brushing hers before she leans back.

“Why?” She narrows her eyes, sceptical.

If there’s one thing Charlie Greene is excellent at, it’s denial.

“Sweetheart,” Harry kisses her jaw, his hands finding her waist and pulling her close to him. He kisses her neck, Charlie sighs and puddles into his touch, “we have all night,” he kisses her throat, then her collarbones. “We don’t need to rush all the time.”

Bullshit for: I’m terrified this is the last time you’re ever going to want to touch me again after that near-confessional. Nevertheless, Charlie accepts it and sinks her fingers into his hair as she meets his lips again – slowly.

Harry backs her up till the backs of her knees hit the mattress, then he sits her down.

She perches on the edge of the bed, looking up at him as he removes his blazer, leaving him in his black shirt and trousers. Her eyes level with the butterfly just peaking from the material, she slides her palms back on the sheets till she can sit back and look at him in his entirety.

“You’re…”

The word gets trapped in her throat. Is it too intimate? Is it too weird?

“What?” Harry murmurs, dropping to his knees to take Charlie’s heels off.

She chews on it for a moment, tilting her head while watching him lean down and kiss the area of shin that’s visible behind her dress, ghosting his lips up the deep thigh slit. When he reaches her waist, she lays back, letting him climb over her.

“Charlie, what?” He repeats, curls tickling her cheek.

She reaches up, tucking his hair behind his ears.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Harry swears his heart stops beating.

“Sorry,” Charlie panics at the silence, “I’m probably just still dru–”

She can’t finish her nervous ramble because Harry’s already kissing her into the bed. Her legs instinctively wrap around his waist, trying desperately to grind against him as he pins her waist and cocoons her with his other arm.

“No one’s ever called me that,” Harry breathes against her lips, starting to struggle with his whole ‘slow’ idea. Charlie pulls him back to her mouth, needing the taste of him just as much as she needs the feel of him. She guides one of his hands down, pushing it beneath her dress. He presses his middle finger to her clothed cunt, swiping it over her clit and teasing the bundle of nerves.

“Please,” Charlie bucks into his hand, trying to reach some pressure, “I need you.”

Harry’s chest leaps.

She needs you to fuck her, idiot. She doesn’t need you.

… oh, fuck it. I can be delusional for a minute.

“Up,” Harry’s voice lowers as he nods up the bed, and they shuffle around so Charlie’s head hits the pillow. “No,” he quickly swipes her waist, nearly making her yelp with how swiftly he pulls her atop of him. He grabs her face, not caring that her hair’s tangled in his rings, “I meant up.”

Charlie frowns, not understanding till…

Oh.

“You mean…?”

“Ride my face.”

Charlie’s breath catches in her throat. She musters a heavy nod.

Sitting up, he helps her pull her dress over her body, leaving her only in those lace knickers Harry doesn’t know if he wants to frame or rip apart. His hands smooth over her silky thighs, pushing her back so he can take in the full sight of her. All her tattoos and marks and bumps and bruises – every perfect inch of her that he could drink in forever if he could.

He finds her eyes, nodding to signal he wanted – needed – her on his face. Now.

Climbing up the bed, Charlie clings onto the bed frame as she hovers above him, gasping at the feeling of his long fingers moving her knickers to the side, his cool rings brushing her mound.

“Charlie, I said sit on my face.”

Never having done this before, Charlie glances down, her pussy still inches from his mouth, hesitant to sink any further.

“I don’t want to suffocate you.”

“You can kill me for all I care, just sit the fuck down.”

When Charlie scowls, Harry softens.

“I promise you won’t suffocate me. I’ll be more than fine.”

Keeping one hand occupied on her knickers, Harry wraps the other around her thigh to bring her down to his mouth. Tense, at first, Charlie just watches as his lips circle her cunt, his tongue just flickering at her clit. When he looks up, his seafoam eyes dark jade, Charlie’s stomach tightens and she throws her head back.

Harry pulls her further down, aiding her in rocking against his face as his tongue works her clit in hard, slow notions. Charlie leaves one hand on the bed frame, using her other to sink into his hair and tug – eliciting tunnelled groans from his throat to her pussy – as she begins to find a rhythm.

“Oh, shit, Harry,” she gasps, her hands flying back to his chest, now.

Harry tweaks at her nipple, rolling the bud between his fingers before feeling every part of her. Her stomach, her breasts, her arms. He settles on her thighs, keeping her impossibly close as Charlie moans and gasps through her orgasm.

Harry keeps her there until she can’t stand it, letting her climb back down his body after she tugs on his hair. Finding his lips as quickly as she can, Charlie tangles the taste of her on his tongue with her own, working to unbutton his shirt and trousers as she reaches in and feels how hard he is. He’s practically leaking pre-cum already, and grinds into Charlie’s touch as she works him a little.

“Christ, Styles,” she pants, smirking against his lips, “for me?”

“No, for that blonde girl I was talking to at the bar.” Harry jokes, laughing into her mouth when she stops palming him. “Of course it’s for you, dumbass,” he rakes his fingers through her hair, smoothing the nape of her tense neck with his finger tips. Kissing her, he mumbles, “always for you.”

He flips them over, arms caging her in as he kisses her neck. “You don’t understand,” kiss, “what you,” kiss, “do to me,” kiss, “Charlie.” kiss.

Head tilted into the pillow, nails raking the muscles that ripple his back, Charlie closes her eyes and wraps her legs around his waist.

“Show me then,” she lifts her hips, brushing her wet core against his erection.

“Side,” he demands, sucking a nipple into his mouth and brushing his teeth against her puckering flesh.

Charlie quickly obeys, practically dripping for him again as his large hands sprawl her hips. She lays on her side, her cheek falling to his bicep as he lays behind her and lifts her leg up.

“Ready for me, hm?” Harry trails a finger between her folds, feeling how wet she is before tasting her on his thumb. “Always so fuckin’ wet,” he grabs the base of his dick, poking at her entrance before rubbing against her clit. She gasps, pushing back against him and grabbing his hip behind her. Harry leans down to her neck, teeth nipping at her earlobe as he slides in with ease.

Charlie’s eyes flutter shut, a low moan escaping her throat as he fits her. Harry’s own breath shudders, and he drapes her right leg over his side, gasping into into her neck as he feels her pulse around him. Snaking her arm around his nape, Harry starts thrusting, and the deep position echoes a symphony of filthy notes around the room.

“Fuck, Charlie,” Harry whines in her ear, hand slipping down her thigh to circle her clit.

“Oh, my God,” Charlie chokes, shifting so she lays on her back and can swallow his moans with her lips. He squeezes her left breast, toying with her nipple till she bites down on his bottom lip and pushes her head into the pillow.

“Every time,” he groans, sinking his teeth into her shoulder, “you feel so good, every time.”

“Don’t stop,” Charlie’s fingers blanch around the sheets below them, “s’good, don’t stop.”

At that, Harry went harder, faster. Fuck the ‘slow’ rule.

“Charlie, baby, I’m gonna come,” Harry moans into her neck, trying to speed up his fingers so she can reach that peak sooner. Instead, she removes his hand, squeezing her pussy around him so that he tightens his grip on her waist and gasps sharply.

“Please do,” she directs all her focus on him, now, wanting so badly for him to, “fill me up, please, Harry.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She rubs her own clit, slowly, feeding off his desperate little pants.

Fucking her so hard he nearly concusses them both on the headboard, Harry reaches his high, crying out into her neck. Charlie moans with him, scraping her fingers through his tangled curls as he slows down.

“Did you finish?” He pants, breathless. Charlie shakes her head.

He pulls out, wincing as he shifts to lay her flat on her back, his cheek pressed into his palm. She finds his lips, kissing him softly despite his fingers curling filthily inside her. When it becomes too much to kiss him, when his thumb comes into play on her clit and the hard circles he rubs brings her closer and closer to her high, Charlie grabs his face and kisses his bottom lip once.

“Stay the night.”

Harry nearly stops. “Really?”

Charlie nods, and Harry kisses her, moving down her torso and making her come for a second – but not the last – time tonight.

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