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madamechrissy · 5 days

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Silent Serenades

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Satoru Gojo x you - in this chap it's Satoru Gojo x mistress, Suguru Geto x you It's messy and will get messier :)

♔ Warnings: Mentions of sex, infidelity, mentions of past self harm, reader has an illness, mentions of eating habits, some descriptions of readers looks (not completely ambiguous) cruelty from Duke Gojo. OOC. So much ANGST. Gojo is TERRIBLE you're warned

♔ Word count this chap: 6.2 k

♔ Summary: you are the diamond of the season, he is the charming Duke, it’s the marriage of the decade. Prominent families joining, and it so happens that Duke Gojo is gorgeous. But, he doesn't want you, and now you're trapped in a loveless arranged marriage. Royal AU, dark bridgerton vibes, Cruel Gojo x reader. OOC Det in 1800s England. Gojo is awful at first, HEAVY angst Basically- Gojo is a royal dick and doesn't wanna marry you

♔Part One - ♔ Playlist ♔ Masterlist

Part Two

You’re sitting at the long, elegant breakfast table in the Gojo manor, cutting up a delectable crepe that you’d help make, just a week later. You’re blissfully alone, until you hear giggling down the hall, and it’s your ‘husband’ Duke Gojo, and one of his mistresses. She seems to be the main one he enjoys, a short little redhead who dresses most scandalously.

He pauses as he’s near the table, looking at you now. You elegantly dab the corner of your mouth with a napkin, smiling at them. “Hello Miss Catherine, would you enjoy breakfast?” You ask, earning Gojo’s icy blue glare, he just hates it so much when you offer in the morning.

“I cannot impose your grace, but thank you kindly.” She curtseys, and is flushed pink, you nod with a little smile, at least she had manners… aside from fucking your husband of course.

“Of course. I hope you have safe travels.” Her eyes glisten then, as she looks at Gojo, then at you, then down at her feet, wringing her hands.

“Thank you, your grace is far kinder than you should be.” She leaves then, excusing herself to Gojo, who comes and sits next to you, plopping down and glaring, long legs spread wide.

“Why are you so bloody cordial to her?” He demands, you just give him a look, pursing your lips.

“You want me to be rude to your lover? That would displease you.”

“But you’re nice… how-”

“I shall not displease you as a wife, even if I cannot fulfill all duties.” You turn your nose up then, tilting your chin up, feeling his glare bore through you as you bite another piece, moaning softly. His eyes drop to your lips, just staring, making you nervous. “Have something on my face?”

“Syrup, you’re quite messy.” You lick your lip then, and he’s glaring as if you’ve created such a transgression. “How can you be so nice!?”

“I’m stuck in this situation, miserable… Why be more miserable.” You mumble, then curse yourself internally, you’ve revealed too much. You clear your throat then with a little smile. “Would you like breakfast, dear husband?”

“I suppose, you’re over there feasting, going to have to tie your corset strings tight to accommodate.’ Your fork clatters to your plate then, gaze locking with his, and he’s raised a thin white brow.

“Eating is unattractive, perfect, I’ll continue on. I’m unattractive to you anyway.” You shove another bite in your mouth, closing your eyes and making a show of moaning in pleasure as you do.

“Everything you do is unattractive.” He quips, earning a quirk of your lips.

“Splendid, everything is in order then.” You brightly smile, hiding the intense pain you feel every day next to this cruel man. You will never allow him to see you weak, hurt, ever again though.

“I’ll have some, if it has you stuffing your face so. I don’t usually see you eat much.” He grumbles then, and you ring for one of the servants to bring more, asking her with a polite smile.

“True, my appetite is small usually.” You say, and soon a plate of crepes is in front of Gojo, and he cuts it elegantly, biting and chewing thoughtfully, before moaning, lapping up the cream on top with a tongue along his lip.

“It’s delicious. Thank the cook for me.” He says to the servant then, Gojo was actually very kind to them all, it’s only you who earns his ire.

“Your grace. It’s the Duchess who prepared this.” She curtsies then leaves, and Gojo scowls at you, those vivid blue eyes boring through your soul.

“You?” He speaks as if you've truly been doing something terrible. You can't stop your eye roll.

“Indeed. No worries, it's not poisoned.” You take a sip of your coffee, sighing as it hits your throat. You’re asthmatic and at times coffee is all that can help, it’s been flaring lately from all the upset of living with him.

“Why would you cook? You’re a lady, a duchess. Not a kitchen wench.” You scoff a bit, leaning back in your chair.

“I enjoy cooking, my parents allowed me to always spend time in the kitchens. Is this unacceptable as a wife?”

“I… I mean… no. I’ll not stop you from cooking.” He bites it again, sighing happily, long white lashes fluttering shut. “I’d prefer you as a cook than a wife.”

Ah, there it is, the knife twisting. Daily.

“I’m sure you would. I would also, then I could happily marry some baker somewhere, couldn’t I?” He’s back to scowling, hand taking the juice in his crystal glass and sipping, scowling over the rim.

“A baker over a Duke?”

“Indeed, anyone that looks at me kindly would do. As you look at Miss Catherine in fact. But she is beautiful, isn’t she?” You raise a challenging brow.

“Indeed she is.” He huffs, looking away then, snatching up a newspaper and pretending to read it. He does this every morning. “You think you’re so beautiful.”

“I think everyone is beautiful in their own way.” He peeks up, pursing full lips at you now. “I’m not beautiful to you, but I am to others. That’s fine for me. I do not presume such desire from you, and I never will. Even when we’re not having babies, and they ask. I assume you’ll have some with your very loud mistress.”

“I will not have babies with my mistress, blasted you’re a fool.” Satoru Gojo brushes his hair back now, frustratedly. “I suppose if we’re forced at some point…”

“I’ll just blame it on me. Don’t worry, we’ll never have to.” You sip your bitter coffee again as his lips part. “I’ll never force that upon you.”

“Well… I…” He looks flushed suddenly, not even meeting your gaze, throwing down his newspaper. “Good, we’re in agreement.”

“Indeed. How are those crepes?”

“Passable.” It’s such a lie, as his plate is entirely gone, but now that he knows it is you who made them, he can’t give you a compliment. “Lord Geto will be here tonight, he for some reason enjoys your presence.”

“Ah, I can’t imagine why. I’m so intolerable.”

“You’ve a smart mouth.”

“I’ll shut up then, your grace. I shall not displease my husband.” You sip your coffee again, and he’s sputtering.

“What’s wrong with you!?”

“A lot, apparently, according to you.”

“You act so bloody calm! Are you inept? I’m fucking her in the room right next to you, do you not hear?”

“I do indeed, it’s quite bothersome but as long as you’re pleased, husband.” That word spills like venom out of your mouth, for he should have never been so. “You’d have me be rude to sweet Miss Catherine?”

“I… you…” He stands then, knuckles gripping the table so hard they’ve gone white now. “Prepare a fine dinner, and I’ll be inviting Miss Catherine, so I’m not bored with you all night.”

“Oh, of course, shall I prepare her a dress too, your grace? I’m not sure she has anything elegant.” He throws his silverware to his plate, clattering, and you smile, sugary sweet up at him. “Am I overstepping? Of course you should buy her a wardrobe, worry not for me, I have my old things.”

“I’ll buy you a bloody wardrobe, you cannot go to the season in old gowns.”

“No need.”

“I will!” He steps up to you, and you feign confusion as he bends down, eyes drinking you in carefully, vermillion lips opening and closing. You see his pretty face far too close. How can someone be made so beautiful and be so cruel? “I’ll have you at the modiste tomorrow.”

“Should I bring Miss Catherine-” Satoru Gojo slams his hand on the table now, his other hand grabbing your chin.

“You feel nothing when I flaunt her? When I fuck her loudly? When I invite her to everything? When I touch her…” His caress sends shivers down your spine, as he holds your face like it's something delicate, when he so clearly hates you.

“Nothing, dear husband, why should I? You're not truly mine, just in circumstance.” You smack his hand down, smiling fake right up at him, watching his left eye twitch with anger.

“Do you feel anything or are you just this… shell of a woman.” You are making me this way to survive.

“Who am I but an obedient wife. I shall make sure Miss Catherine is so welcome, and Lord Geto.”

Satoru stomps away then, and you allow yourself to drop this fucking facade for just one moment, breathing in quick, shallow pants. You throw the warm coffee down your throat, coughing and rubbing your collarbone now, shaking as the emotions hit you so goddamn hard your throat is constricted.

“Your Grace…” Your Nanny has come now, you’ve loved her your entire life, she comes to caress your back so carefully. You inhale her familiar scent, sighing.

Watching you like this has been killing her, you know.

“Prepare a meal for Lord Geto and Miss… Catherine.” The name tastes like bile on your tongue, and you watch your Nanny’s own anger. “I’m fine, Nan.”

“It’s unacceptable, even for a Duke. I’m so worried…”

“Do not worry.” Though you barely want to wake in the morning. “I will be just fine, Nan.”

“Lord Geto adored you.”

You blink back emotion, feeling that tightness again. “I know.”

“Should you allow this and do nothing?”

“I… can’t stop him.”

“You could have happiness.” She whispers, holding your hands tightly. You look down at that, nervously, lashes casting shadows under your tired eyes. “I’ve overstepped.”

“No, no… I will think of that later. Let us prepare the staff.”

“Indeed.” She kisses your cheek, and you damn near cry from that, and then you go about your duties, as the Duchess.

The dinner that night was a grand affair, with the long, candlelit table dressed in pristine white linens, a bouquet of red and white roses in the center. The silverware sparkled, and the crystal glasses sang with the promise of fine wine. You had taken special care to ensure that every detail was perfect, from the delicate china to the scented candles that cast a warm glow over the room.

You had overseen every bit of the meal as well, and as Satoru comes down with Miss Catherine on his arm, even he pauses a bit. Catherine’s eyes light up. “This is so beautiful, your Grace!”

You give her a little nod of your head. “Thank you, I worked a lot on this, I hope it’s adequate, husband?”

He blinks a bit, for his manor had never been so spotless, nor had anything been set up so extravagant, but all he does is shrug one broad shoulder, wrapping an arm around Catherine’s waist. She did not wear a corset, she wore some looser dress that showed an insane amount of her bosoms, to the point it was obscene, but Gojo probably enjoyed it.

“It’s passable.” Catherine blinks up at him a bit.

“It’s beautiful!”

“Did I ask you?” He says tersely, removing his hand, and she just pouts a bit, wringing her hands in front of herself.

“Sorry your Grace.” He rolls his eyes, then takes in your outfit slowly, as if he was analyzing every bit of you. You were wearing a very beautiful crimson gown with beading on the square shaped bodice. You also had lace along the puffed sleeves, and it’s cinced in the middle tightly, making your waist look impossibly tiny. His look lingers on your bodice, at the hint of breasts pushed up in the neckline.

It was lower cut but nothing too revealing, and you had looked in the mirror and saw how beautiful you looked, though you knew you pale in comparison to anyone for your husband. So you did not dress for him, no, you dressed for your role, as the perfect Duchess.

“You look a vision if I may say, your Grace.” Catherine whispers, and you smile a bit at that.

“Thank you Miss Catherine. This was one of my favorite gowns. I hope it’s passable for the dinner?” You ask Satoru then, and his eyes are dilated now, as he slowly licks a glossy lower lip.

“Passable.” He manages, shrugging again, then pulling Catherine back against him, kissing down her neck.

That knife in your chest twists, as you realize you could look the most beautiful, hair perfectly coifed in ringlets, glittering rubies on your neck, rouge on your cheeks… it did not matter that you glitter under these chandeliers. You’re disgusting to him, he makes it so clear as he fondles Catherine.

The doorbell rings and you realize Lord Geto is here, and his arrival was like a breath of fresh air for you, his tall, commanding presence filling the room. His dark brown eyes light up when he sees you, coming over with a bottle of wine in his hands, he bends down and takes your bare hand, kissing the back of it. You feel Satoru’s angry gaze on you both.

“Thank you so very much, Lord Geto.” You whisper, feeling your cheeks heat when his eyes drink you in, his lips parting. His straight nose has nostrils flaring when he steps back and looks fully at you.

“Forgive me, you’re the most beautiful vision I’ve seen. I was left rather… well, stupid.” You giggle behind your hand at that, shaking your head.

“You go on too much.” You shove him playfully with a couple fingers, taking in his dark blue suit.

“You do go on too much.” Satoru says, and now Suguru takes in his friend and Miss Catherine, and his eyes go wide, darting between you and them.

“The fuck is this, Satoru?” Suguru says then, and Satoru pulls Miss Catherine up more to introduce her.

“My mistress. Say hello, Catherine.”

He scowls now, then looks back at you again. “Your mistress comes to dinner parties with nobility?”

Satoru scowls himself now. “It’s just you, Suguru, of course she can’t come to typical ones.”

“Just me… and that’s acceptable?” He gestures to her, and Satoru scoffs, as Catherine looks down nervously. “In front of your wife!?”

“She cares not. Do you, Duchess?” You sigh, putting on that mask you’ve used all week now.

“Miss Catherine is here every day. So… why not have her for dinner? Whatever pleases my husband.”

“What the actual fuck is happening here? Can’t even be discreet? What would your family think.”

“I care not what they think. Now, let’s eat, are you hungry love?” He cooes to her, and she nods, blushing on her pale cheeks. He leads her to the table and scooches her chair close, looking right at you as if hoping for a response, but you just clutch the wine bottle in your hand, smiling up at an appalled Suguru.

“Let’s sit, yes?” You say softly, and he sighs, nodding and coming to sit next to you, across from Satoru and his lover.

You played the gracious hostess, greeting them with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, a smile that further infuriates Gojo. He seems to hate how little you pretend to care, so you continue that way.

Suguru saw right through you though, his gaze was sharp as the first course was served, you felt his hand cover yours under the table. You tense a bit, at just how good it feels, to be touched, and how his big hand takes yours over. He squeezes just a bit, under that tablecloth, sipping wine with his other hand.

“You’re not okay with this. You can’t be.” He says softly, and you just shrug slightly, turning your hand and entwining it with his, and he sucks in a breath a bit, as his dark lashes lower over his eyes.

“I have no choice but to be.”

“It’s disgusting.”

“He said I’m disgusting. So.” Suguru glares now, his grip so tight you wince a bit, as he looks at his friend, who’s being fed by Catherine, she dabs his mouth with a handkerchief softly, giggling.

“You know that’s not true. So beautiful I couldn’t form a word.” You look down now, staring at an elegantly tied cravat.

“You were always too kind.”

“What are you two talking about over there?” Satoru asks, popping a bite of food into his mouth and chewing. You pull your hand away, even if he cannot see, earning a frown from Suguru.

“How beautiful the Duchess is. Don’t you agree, Satoru?” He asks, and raises a brow as Satoru glares at him, then at you.

“Passable.” He says for the third time that day. Or was it the fourth. “She’s of no interest to me, not my type. What’s it matter to you?”

“Perhaps you require spectacles if you think she’s not. Especially, and I mean no offense Miss Catherine, sitting next to her and finding her better company.”

“She’s beautiful, Lord Geto.” You say, earning his scowl, and Gojo’s, for what you didn’t know. And Miss Catherine is pouting.

“The Duchess is the most stunning lady, all of the Ton says so, they say it in every paper.” She says, and now Gojo is more annoyed clearly, slamming back the wine and having another poured by one of the servants.

“Thank you Miss Catherine.” You say, and Geto’s anger radiates through his body as he watches them, gulping down his own wine. “Lord Geto… tell me how you have been.”

He clearly didn’t wanna let this go, but he pushes it back, and now the conversation around the table flowed as smoothly as the wine, but you could feel the undercurrents of this tension. Miss Catherine giggled too loudly, and Gojo’s arm is around her shoulders, but his eyes are never leaving yours, as he caresses her bare skin and it makes you sick.

The meal progressed, with dish after dish parading out from the kitchen. The aromas wafted around the room, tantalizing everyone’s senses. Yet, you felt nauseous, unable to take a bite without feeling like you’d choke, throat feeling tight. Geto noticed, his gaze flickering to your plate with concern.

“You’ve eaten nothing, Duchess.” He says softly, and you try to take a little scoop of the soup apologetically.

“She ate like a pig this morning. So perhaps she tightened that corset a few laces tighter.” You put your spoon down, as you choke back emotion, hatred, but the tears begin to form, and Gojo looks down now, clearing his throat.

“You’re a fucking dick, Satoru. Please eat something.”

“No, he’s correct, I ate a lot this morning.” You take a sip of water now, as you blink back tears, and you fail at it, because everyone in the room watch them glisen under the soft lighting.

“You should eat, it’s very delicious.” Gojo says then, you are so confused you just stare at him. “The soup is very good.”

“The soup.” The man had basically told you to not eat, and now seems to feel bad perhaps? But it means nothing, his sad attempts at feeling sorrow for his miserable actions.

“I’ll refrain from making those crepes. So I should not lace so tightly.” You say instead, and Satoru won’t even look at you now. Catherine is a good bit heavier than you, so you can’t fathom what he means, as you’re not considered anything other than an ideal size to society. Even if you were heavier, you did not deserve such treatment, but he says nothing as Catherine wolfs down food..

It’s just you. He just hates you.

“The crepes were very good though.” His blue gaze hits you over his glass now, something in them you can’t describe, as you trail your slender fingers over the stem of your own glass. “Do not let me stop you from eating if you wish to.”

“I’ll do whatever pleases you, husband.” He reddens in the face, as you sip your wine, wishing you could throw it back, but you cannot, you’re a lady, aren’t you?

You tried to ignore the way Gojo’s fingers danced along Miss Catherine’s skin, but it was like a knife to your soul with every touch, as she’s so free and happy with him, and all you can do is sit stiffly, with your back straight, cutting your food just so. You have to be perfect. Don’t you?

Perfect.

Composed. You cannot lose that.

Stay calm.

As the evening grew late, and the wine flowed more freely, the conversation grew more heated. Gojo’s laughter grew louder, his jokes more crude, and Miss Catherine’s giggles more frequent. Geto’s eyes narrowed, and you could see the anger simmering beneath the surface. He leaned in closer to you, his voice a low murmur. “This isn’t right. You deserve better than this.”

“What I deserve is irrelevant. This is the hand I’ve been dealt, and I will play it as best I can.” You replied, your voice steadier than you felt. His legs spread a bit, and you flush as your thigh feels his well muscled one under the silk of your dress. He leans back, studying you with concern.

The dessert was served, a decadent chocolate torte with raspberry sauce that you had made from scratch. As you watched Gojo feed a piece to Miss Catherine with his own fork, you felt a strange sense of detachment. You were no longer the shy, hopeful girl who’d entered this manor, were you?

Perfect.

Composed.

Stay calm.

You were the Duchess now.

“This is so decadent, your Grace! What is this recipe?” Miss Catherine asks now, clearly drunk. You tense a bit.

“I made it.” The room is silent, and Satoru puts his fork back in a piece, looking at you for a moment, before feeding her another bite of it.

Something within you snapped. You stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. “Excuse me, I believe I need some fresh air,” you announced, your voice cool and collected. The room fell silent as you made your way to the doors, the fabric of your gown sweeping the floor behind you, softly swishing, as your slippered feet tapped on those marble floors.

Perfect!?

Composed!?

Your throat tightens as the night air meets you, and you inhale it greedily, crisp and cold, a stark contrast to the stifling tension of the dinner party. You stepped out into the garden, the very garden you’d first learned that your life was going to be miserable. If Satoru was anything, he was honest, as he had made sure to fuck whoever he wanted.

You just didn’t realize how much it was breaking you down. You shut your eyes, trying to focus on the calming scent of the blooming flowers and the soothing sound of the fountain. It’s running, splashing, and you focus on that sound, trying to let your mind go, to compose yourself.

Perfect…

Composed…

You want to punch him in the face, your nails are digging into your palms as you picture just that. Then you’d like to smack that smirk off his face, then turn and smack Miss Catherine too. Then, you’d like to-

“Duchess…” You gasp when you open your eyes, and Lord Geto is there, hands in his pockets, concern written all over his handsome face. His dark brown hair is long and silky, half put up, blowing gently in the breeze.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t take it. I’m trying.” You speak through gritted teeth, stepping further into the gardens, into the night, with the moonlight shimmering down.

“How can you take it at all? It’s disgusting. I’m so sorry I don’t know what he’s even thinking…” He follows you until you reach a bench, and you gesture for him to sit with you.

“He told me on the wedding day he wants anyone but me. So, we have done… absolutely nothing. And… never will.”

Suguru sputters at that, before running a hand over his face. “Let me talk some sense into him, I-”

“No, no. I feel it in how he looks at me. I’m intolerable.”

“Intolerable!? You know better. You know how every lady wants to be you, how every gentleman wishes you were theirs.” He’s gripping your shoulders, bare where he touches, and you soak up the warmth, as you soak in his sweet looks, and you whimper before you can stop it.

“I’m so sorry!” You pull back, turning away then, burying your face in your hands, but he’s got a big hand on your waist now, and it feels far too good.

“Look at me, Duchess.” You tentatively look back, and find yourself face to face with Lord Geto, your husband’s best friend, but that was far from your mind, when he cups your face. It’s not like the cold grab of Gojo, it’s delicate, it’s sweet, and your eyes lock then. “You deserve so much better than this.”

“I do?” You ask softly, and he scoffs a bit, thumb brushing an errant tear that escaped away.

“No one deserves this, but especially not you. He hasn’t even…”

“Nothing. He said he would never.”

“So get an annulment then, if that is how he will be.”

“I can’t just do that! My family planned this all. I am stuck forever, alone and unwanted and…”

“You’re not unwanted.” His voice is husky, drawing your attention to him, as your own hand slides up his chest, up his stark dress shirt. “I’d make you feel so beautiful.”

“Lord Geto…” Your tears are falling pathetically now, you can’t stop them, and he’s got both his hands on your face, swiping them away.

“I can’t do what I want, but I assure you I want… a lot.” Vivid images fly through your mind, as your heart starts racing, pulse hammering in your throat. “But I will beg forgiveness for this, because I can’t have you thinking this way, I can’t see you suffering and not…”

“Not what, Lord Geto?” He leans even closer, your lips just barely not touching, and you can’t breathe for a moment, as you realize what is happening.

“Kiss you, show you how worthy you are. Will you forgive this transgression?” He asks, and you scoot even closer, nodding.

“Kiss me, please. Please.” He moans, his eyes fluttering shut, then his lips descend on yours, and it’s nothing like the cold peck Gojo gave you, it’s hot, demanding, eager. You whimper into the kiss, opening your mouth, and his tongue darts in, as his hands slide down your body, the sides of your breasts, awakening them.

“Is it too much?” He whispers, pulling back, and you shake your head, now you are pulling him by the lapels of his suit.

“No, no. I don’t know what to do. Your tongue…”

“I wish it could taste every bit of you.” Now you’re blushing in the night, as his big hands take over your waist. “I won’t get to, but let me show you how much I’d die to have a moment with you. Just move your tongue back?”

“Yes, yes.” He’s back kissing you, and your tummy clenches, this heat in your core you’d barely felt before, as you move yours back tentatively, and you feel his grip tighten, his exhale, as Suguru holds you with his big hands, as he kisses you so passionately.

You feel so desired, as he’s gasping, as he’s pulling you damn near in his lap, gazing at you then with dilated pupils when he pulls back. “Fuck you’re perfect… you’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you, Lord Geto. Thank you.” You tentatively peck a kiss on his neck then, making him moan, the sound you’d heard from Gojo’s chambers. His arms gently push you back a bit though.

“I cannot stand how badly I want you. Now it’s worse.” He looks up at the sky for a moment, breathing then looking back at you, smiling softly. “There is life in those gorgeous eyes now.”

“Is there?” You ask nervously, Suguru kisses your forehead sweetly, trying to compose himself.

“Don’t let him ruin it. I’ll see if I can get him to stop this. I promise I’ll try.” Suguru is running his fingers across your jawline now, exhaling, his breath warm against your collarbone as he pecks a kiss there, shocking you. “Forgive me for this.”

“Nothing to forgive. I will not speak of it. It’s not as if… he is not all over another woman.”

“If I weren’t his best friend I’d be licking under your skirts.” You gasp, and he chuckles a bit. “Forgive that.”

“You aren’t such a gentleman, are you Lord Geto?” You ask, giggling a bit, fuck he makes you feel happy? Doesn’t he?

He helps you to stand now, holding your hands. “I’m trying to be. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t cheer you up. I know, I’ll come back soon with a gift.”

“You should do no such thing!”

“I will. And to check on you. Come, let’s go inside.”

Your mind lingers to that kiss later that night, when you walk by Gojo’s chambers, and he’s left them cracked open. You peer in for a moment, seeing Catherine on top of him, riding him and crying out, as his big hands grip her backside. He’s softly moaning, and then catches sight of you. You back away, but he says nothing, he just watches you as he fucks into her.

Right at you.

His blue eyes are vivid as they do, as he moans and pumps up into her, and you feel a horrible mix of feelings when you walk away, down the hall. Your lips still tingle with Suguru’s kisses, your body has reacted to him eagerly, but that cannot be. You can never be with him, you’re stuck here, alone.

But it has given you hope.

Suguru had talked to him and ended up in a huge argument in Satoru’s study, until Suguru had stormed off angrily, and Satoru had simply slammed the door after. You hadn’t heard much, but it was a lot of Geto telling him to treat you better, and Gojo not listening. You appreciate Geto’s effort, but there is no helping it.

Your Nan is brushing your hair, as you now have on a thin white night shift, and she bends down a bit, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You quite enjoyed Lord Geto, didn’t you?”

“Nan… yes. I did very much. But… he’s Gojo’s best friend. So nothing can come from it.”

“Did you all…”

“Kiss.” You squeal a bit, and Nan is smiling softly, hugging you gently around your shoulders. “It’s scandalous.”

“What’s scandalous is your husband having her at dinner. I am worried that if you find no comfort, you will hurt yourself.” She grabs your wrist, where there was a line, and she had found you that way, many years ago. You rub it softly, sighing.

“I will not, I promise Nan.”

Perfect.

Composed.

You must be this way.

“Do not feel bad for it, you do not deserve this treatment, what have you done to earn any anger, any cruelty? You’ve done nothing but be perfect.”

Perfect.

Composed.

“Perhaps you should go to the modiste tomorrow, get away from this…”

“Hell hole?”

She smirks at that, nodding. “That word, my Lady.”

“Indeed, getting out would not hurt. I will do so.” The door opens then, and Gojo stands there shirtless, earning a glare from Nan, who he grins at.

“I need to speak with my wife.” She curtseys, looking at you worriedly, but you nod at her, standing in the large, elegant room, and Satoru is walking to you as the door clicks shut.

“I’m sorry that I looked. I meant no disrespect.” You say then, and he crosses his arms, tilting his head as he looks at you.

“You’re apologizing for watching me cheat on you?” He demands, and you just nod, looking down.

“I know better than to.”

“Did you get curious?” His hand brushes back your hair, and you tremble, why don’t you hate his touch!?

“I suppose so. Not very ladylike of me.” His hands glide down your shoulders, and he’s even closer, his eyes swirling like storms in the night as his lids lower. He’s gleaming with sweat, with her all over him.

“I could be so convinced to show you things. If you begged me.” You slap his hand off then, glaring.

“I’ll never beg anyone. I don’t need to.”

“Oh no?”

“No, do you know how easily I could do what you do?” His eyes narrow, and he grips you tightly now, but you tilt your chin up, as your mind whirls with what Suguru had said. It’s as if it’s lit a fire, dim but there.

“Oh could you? You’re so conceited.”

“Me!? Me!? You!”

“You are!”

“You!” You shove him again, making him practically growl. “I let you fuck her anytime, I let her come to dinner, I’m doing everything perfect. Why do you insist on not leaving me alone?”

“You looked at me as if…” He trails off then, pulling your body against him, cool breath on your cheeks when he bends down. “You want me.”

“Fear not, I absolutely do not want you.”

He blinks as if you’ve hit him. Good.

“I was curious about the act, that's all. Perhaps I’ll find out on my own.” Now he’s squeezing you bruisingly, his chest rising and falling.

“Do you feel nothing at all!? Ever!? Are you made of ice?”

“You’re the cold one here, Satoru Gojo. Duke. What did I do to deserve any of this at all!”

“You didn’t…” He trails off, that same unreadable look on his handsome face, as he pulls back, releasing you. “I wouldn’t have done it, even if you begged.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Then we’re on the same page. I won’t watch again, perhaps shut the door?”

“Shut the door. That’s all you have to say.”

“Mmhmm, oh tell Catherine good night for me.”

Duke Gojo laughs now, but it’s without humor, running a hand through his snowy white hair, messing it up. “Tell her good night!”

“Indeed. If that’s all?” You tap your bare foot on the cold floor, crossing your arms under your breasts, and you struggle to stay calm as his eyes roll down your body. “What, need to tell me I got fat from a crepe?”

“You’re nowhere near fat, stupid girl.” Your head falls back a bit in surprise, and he looks surprised as well, sighing then.

“Are you apologizing?”

“No, just stating… that it was incorrect to suggest otherwise.”

“Oh.” You look at him in shock now, as he’s on edge, so tense you can feel it in the air of the room. “Thanks?”

“Thanks for what? I’ve done nothing to earn a thanks.” Satoru’s stance is defeated, as he turns away now, his fists clenched on his sides. “How do you remain so composed? So perfect.”

Perfect.

Composed.

“It’s not as easy as it looks, but it’s my duty as a wife.” You say softly, and his head turns, as you study the strong muscles of his back, wishing you did not find that attractive at all.

“You’ll go to the modiste tomorrow, yes?”

“I will if you wish me to, husband.”

“You do anything I wish.”

“That’s my role, your Grace.” He leaves then, pausing at the door to look back at you, opening and closing his mouth as if to say something, but then he just… leaves.

You take a shaky breath as you lay down on your bed, far too big for just one person, but that’s how it would stay. A momentary apology… well not an apology but a lack of cruelty… could not fix this. Suguru gave you no hope for Gojo, no it gave you hope that perhaps you could find happiness, even in this horrible situation, so that you don’t hurt yourself.

You rub that scar again, your past was not as perfect as many thought, but you are strong. You’ll do this.

As you slumber that night, it’s a mix of dreams, of Suguru kissing you everywhere, and you finding that same pleasure you watched Lady Catherine get. But, instead of looking down at Suguru’s handsome face as you ride him, he shifts, and now it’s Satoru’s pretty face under you. Hungry blue eyes, white hair falling over his brow, as he grabs your hips.

No, no, no.

You awaken in the middle of the night, and force yourself back to sleep, to dream of anything other than the cruel man in the next room. Must he not even allow you to have a bloody dream? Now in your slumber it’s another man, blond and tall… you can’t see his face, because he’s kissing down your neck.

Who is he?

Part three

#satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk angst #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #duke gojo #bridgerton au #royalty au #jujutsu kaisen #angsty fic #arranged marriage

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afterthatidontknow · 6 months

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—𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚, 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩—

pairing . Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader

summary . you both knew you would never be able to be together — so you had to take the shot, even if it would be the only and one time.

warnings . smut! I am not responsible for your content consumption! bottom! Natasha, soft sex, praise kink (?), cunninglingus, face riding, fingering, multiple orgasms, forbidden love, Red Room trope in general, non graphic violence, implied sexual harassment (Dreykov), cursing, angst.

notes . english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so I apologize for any spelling errors. feel free to leave any advice though!

disclaimer: they're both 18, before the graduation ceremony.

highschool sweethearts thing because I'm a simp for it. ^^

divider credits: @benkeibear

"Love is for children." they'd say, "love is a weakness." so how the hell did you manage? Natasha wondered, how did you kept the facade, even with all the things that happened between you, in secrecy from the rest of the widows — from Madam B, and from General Dreykov?

Because even her, one of their best widows, was starting to lose it.

Ever since the beggining, you were the most ruthless, emotionless, cruel widow they had. You couldn't remember your life before the Red Room, because it never existed. They took you from your parents when you were 2, and your training started by the age of 4.

You could swear you were born like that — cursed, without a heart. You never cared for anyone, for anything. Your only task was rob, torture, kill. Because the apple doensn't fall far away from the tree.

But somehow, that girl still managed to change you.

When Madam B put the redhead as your opponent, was when your whole perspective of life, of being, changed. God, you hated her. She had everything you ever wished to have — the longing for a family, the care for people, the gentleness. That showed whenever you went on a mission together — it wasn't a part of her characters, it was herself. When she spoke to you about Yelena and how she tried to protect her, when she took you to the dark warehouse to take care of your bruises.. especially when she insisted on covering your ears and mumbling a russian lullaby to muffle the sounds of the other girls screams in the night.

She taught you what love was. And that made you want to kill her. To kiss her. To tear her apart. To make her scream, and not from pain.

Dreykov always made it clear that romance, or even the slightest display of affection would result in severe punishment, or worse, execution. That was because he knew that the widows would never be able to find a partner outside his walls, so finding that need between each other was the only way out.

Yet, Natasha and you had an advantage point — you were the best of the best, the most talented widows. So first: he wouldn't suspect anything, and second: he couldn't kill his best agents. It would be his loss.

That's how she became your little secret. You were an hell of an expert, because you never let your feelings get in your job. Neither did Natasha, but it still shocked her.

It started with a simple peck on the lips by the age of 13, in the farris wheel of the amusement park you were undercover. Your cart was the one on the top, where you could see all the atractions from, and no one could see you. You tried to convince yourself it was just teenage curiosity, but it still led to that.

The hotel room of Belgium, Brussels.

You never knew the simple mission on breaking in a bank was gonna lead to that.

Natasha did everything in a rush, knowing that you could do it smoothly, but just to be able to spend a little more time with you. Like now.

You sighed deeply, leaning against the sink's counter and looking at your reflexion in the mirror. The cut on your forehead was stinging a little, but you decided not to pay attention. The redhead walked in the bathroom, just not expecting to see you only in a black lace bra and the black tights of the vest. You heard the click of the door, but showed little emotion. "Hey, Red."

"Oh, Y/n..." she whispered, her eyes searching for yours, wanting to know if you wanted her to leave. You gave her a shake of your head and a small smile. She walked through the door with a soft exhale. "I already settled the guns and all the weapons. I also wrote the reports, in case you're wondering."

"You spoil me too much," you smirked tiredly. "You do all of that just to have me a little more, don't you?"

Your joke made her look down a little. "Yes," she whispers.

"You do?" you raised an eyebrow, not expecting her to affirm. "Well.. we still have 5 hours before they retreat us, so.."

"Your forehead," Natasha cuts you off, frowning in concern, rushing to check on you. Her hands went to hold your shoulders as she studied the cut — she only realized your lips parted and your gaze at her when she felt the straps of the bra beneath her hands.

"It's fine," you whispered, clearing your throat. Natasha looked away for a brief second, before looking into your eyes again.

"It's not, let me patch you up—"

You shook your head, placing your hands on her waist and leaning in, shutting her up with a long, gentle kiss. You pulled away and met Natasha's dreamy gaze, her eyes a little disoriented.

"Y/n..." the redhead mumbled, her eyes fluttering close and her head dropping to your shoulder, as she sighed.

"God, the way you look out for me makes me so weak." you chuckled, your palm rubbing her back, fingernails grazing her skin. "You know you don't have to do that. I can take care of myself just fine."

"I don't care," she said, lifting her head again to get herself lost in your eyes once more.

The graduation ceremony was coming soon, and you couldn't care less about that — but with her, it was different. You both knew what the ceremony actually meant, and Natasha was scared. She didn't want her dignity off her. And not knowing how to deal with this, she just wanted to protect you, in a way to comfort herself, her heart.

"It's gonna be okay, Natalia," you smile, planting a little kiss on the tip of her nose. "It's not gonna be the first surgery they perform on us. Besides, I'm gonna be with you as soon as you're back on the dormitory, okay?"

"It's just," Natasha gulped, her arms wrapping around herself. She was thinking far, of the future. "Who's gonna want a woman who can't even do the basics? Who's gonna want a woman who can't give birth to a baby?"

"Me." you simply said, placing your hand on her cheek, Nat immediately leaning into the touch. "I will. Because when we're out, we're getting married." you giggled. "Wasn't that our promise 4 years ago, when we were 14?"

Natasha's eyes snapped back to you. It was clear she didn't want to think of that as a joke — she had to show you how much she felt for you. And she wanted- needed you to reciprocate her. So she completely forgot of all the damn rules. She grabbed the back of your neck, and unintentionally pushed you up against the wall, kissing you with urgency.

Your eyes widened in surprise, but fluttered close again as the shock vanished. Your hands went to hold her waist again, tightening as you felt her press herself against you.

"Nat..." you whispered against her lips, breaking the kiss. She looked at you, her lips grazing yours again, your noses brushing.

"It's our only chance," she whines. "We were pleasure toys for men since we were little, can't we have something real for once? Before everything falls apart?"

Your breathing hitches as she says that. You let your eyes close, guiding her backwards and outside the bathroom, towards the bed.

"It's forbidden, but who the fuck cares? Who knows if we're not getting killed someday, or if Dreykov send us to different bases and we never see each other again?"

"Natalia," you shake your head, shakily breathing. "Everything I've done, everything I did was for one reason — having you by my side."

Natasha whimpered, sitting you down on the bed and standing between your legs. "Y/n, I want to see you."

"Then do it." you replied with no hesitance. "you're the only one who I'd consent to, Natalia."

At this point, you swore you forgot everything else than how she slowly unattached the hostler from your hips, pulling the tights and panties down and breathing rapidly by the sight of you semi-naked in front of her. Before she could do anything else, you stood up, hand moving to zip down the tight suit they made you wear. Natasha whined, leaning herself into your hands.

"So impatient," you whispered, finishing with the zipper and removing the fabric of her body, taking your time to do so. She held your shoulders and let you slip it down her legs — along with her panties, which she wasn't expecting. Natasha gasped quietly as the air hit her core, making you smile softly and stand up again.

"Darling," you cooed, hands moving to her back as your face found shelter on her neck, gently nibbling and kissing there. "you're so pretty it hurts,"

"Y/n," the redhead almost moaned, tilting her head back to grant you more access. She felt the straps of her bra slide down her shoulders and bit her lip as her breasts were freed, the lack of the tight clothing giving both of you an immense relief. In a moment, your lace lingerie was gone too.

"You're so gorgeous..." you whispered in her ear, your fingers tracing all the scars on her body, which you were sure you already had memorized. "And you are mine."

"Yes," she nodded, wrapping her arms around your waist. The skin on skin contact from someone she actually trusted felt too good, too much. "Yes, yes I'm yours."

Natasha then gently sat you down again on the edge of the bed, taking your breath away as she kneeled down in front of you, her hands gently pushing your knees apart and holding them open like this.

"God," she whimpered, leaning her face to slowly press kisses on your inner thighs, your back arching a little with the contact.

You took a moment to look at her dreamily, your slender fingers going to tangle in her red hair and play with it softly. "Lyubovmoya, (my love,)"

Natasha swore she could cry now, from the intense emotions building up within her. She couldn't wait anymore. So she did just that — diving into you, her mouth finding your pussy, her tongue inside you, tasting you, savouring the sweetness reserved only for her.

"Fuck, malyshka, (baby,)" you moaned, the sensation of being filled by someone who wouldn't harm you almost sending you over the edge already. "Yes, just like that,"

Natasha whimpered softly, licking the juices that were already spilling out of you, her tongue moving in circular motions against your clit.

"Nat," your head tilted back, hips bucking against her face as your climax approached. "I'm coming, Nat, I—"

She moaned against your folds as you came, licking all of your arousal, her tongue fucking you through your orgasm. After a while, she pulled her head back and looked up at your face.

"You're so fucking beautiful between my legs like that." you murmured breathlessly, smiling in bliss. Natasha blushed, you could tell she really liked your praises. "Are you really ready for more?"

"This is such a bad idea," she lifted herself from between your legs and smiled weakly, straddling your thigh again and gently pushing your back against the bed. "But the best we'd ever have."

You giggled, crawling further back the bed and laying your head on the pillow, your hands pulling her on top of you. Natasha thought of everything but that.

"Y/n," she bit her lip, getting a little shy. "I don't wanna hurt you."

"Don't be a hypocrite." you smirked softly. It wasn't going to be the first time she had suffocated you with her thighs, one of her combat skills. "Let me taste you too."

Natasha carefully placed her hands on the headboard, lifting herself up and lowering her thighs around your head, so hesitant. You gently squeezed her flesh and pulled her flush against your face, making her gasp a little in surprise. In a second, she felt your tongue inside her. So that's how it felt.

"Oh my," she whimpered, closing her eyes tightly, as she slowly started to grind herself against you.

You moved your hands up her thighs, to her hip bone, running your fingers across the bullet scar she had there. There was no doubt that, of all the Red Room academy, Natasha was the one who most took the harshness from Dreykov — sometimes for punishment, for the so called reward for being a good widow, or even to protect you. So she deserved all the sweetness and care she could get, for once in her life.

"More.." she breathed, her eyes looking down at yours — not expecting you to be so skilled, looking closely at her as your mouth worked on her. Your eyes smiled at her, and she felt it.

"Such a good girl," you whisper, sending vibrations all over her body. You then inserted two fingers inside her, carefully laying her down on the bed and hovering your lips against hers. Not kissing her, yet. "As soon as we get out of here, I'll marry you. And I'll scream to the world that you're mine."

"Y/n," she cried, feeling a warm tear roll down her cheek — not knowing if it was the pleasure only, but also her emotions.

"I feel so lucky," you smiled, so softly, lips brushing against her cheek as you spoke. She giggled, her arms circling your neck. Natasha moaned as she felt your fingers brushing continuously against her g-spot, as if you knew her better than herself, and you did. "I would give the world to have you in my arms, and I have it, and I'll never let you go."

"Say that again." the redhead begged, bucking her hips against your hand.

"I'll never, ever let you go." you repeated, feeling her legs starting to shake. "Even if I have to die for that."

"If I die..." she whispered, and suddenly, a wave of arousal washed over her, and she threw her head back, her cum all over your fingers. You gently fucked her through her orgasm, and then licked your fingers.

Nat gripped your back, her fingers digging into your skin. You rolled over the bed and pulled her on top of you. She looked like a baby now, so innocent, so precious. She clinged to you, wanting more of your safety, of your love.

Yes, love. And it didn't matter if she was considered a child now.

"I-if I die," she continued, her voice so so small. Your fingers ran through her hair, through her red locks. "At least I had one good thing in my life. You. You're the only fucking good thing I ever had, Y/n. And I'll take you in my memories forever and ever."

"I love you, Natalia." you said with conviction. "I'll love you in my every reincarnation, in my every life."

That's when you heard a loud bang in the door. The tracker, the wire.

"Goodbye, princess." you held her tighter, as she buried her face on your neck.

"See you soon."

Everything went black. Two widows terminated. Two shots fired.

Dreykov would have to train two other girls to replace you, and it wouldn't be easy.

At least you were free now. And had to hope you'd be married with two kids and a picket fence for the next time.

#natasha marvel #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #marvel incorrect quotes #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff soft smut #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #marvel #incorrect marvel quotes #lgbtqia #the avengers #Spotify

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mncxbe · 9 months

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Sharing is caring♡

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊 𝒙 𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒖𝒚𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: pure smut♡/ threesome/ dazai's a bit mean

"Fuck– donna you're such a dirty girl." Dazai cooed, his bandaged hands kneading the plush of your ass as he drilled himself into you "Heh looks like we got some company baby~ Chuuya I see you got my text."

Chuuya was standing in the doorway in obvious disbelief, hand clasping the ornate knob. "The fuck you think you're doing you bastard fucking around in my office-". Before he could finish his sentence you cut him off with a choked moan. His gaze lowered to see you bent over his desk, chest flush against the wooden surface; pretty tits almost spilling fron your tank top as you tilted your head to the side to look at him. Chuuya's breath hitched when he saw the sultry look on your face– eyes half lidded, cheeks flushed, lips raw from Dazai's kisses parting as you tried to say something but before you got the chance the man behind you started moving again. Your eyes fluttered shut and your head dropped on the desk, breaking the eye contact.

"Nuh uh bella you wanted to say something to Chuuya didn't you? C'mon speak up" cooed your boyfriend, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head up to face the redhead again. Your mouth fell into a o as you choked out another moan.

The display was filthy, aggravating Chuuya beyond belief. Only a while ago Dazai texted him that he was going to fuck you in his office but he didn't believe a word. How on earth could the detective even get into the headquarters in the first place, let alone with you?–but still there he was, doing what he said he'd do. Chuuya felt his blood boil when he saw the smug grin on his ex partner's face. Oh yea, Dazai knew that Chuuya had a little crush on you and he never wasted an opportunity to tease him; even if it meant fucking you senseless on his desk.

"Go on bella tell him what you told me today." At Dazai's request you babbled out a 'I missed you Chuu' that had the man before you weak in the knees. The brunette's assault on your sore cunt didn't stop as he spoke.

"Yea, that's right. My girl said she missed you Chuuya~ ah fuck so tight baby s-shit. She wanted to see you s-so we came by to say hi"

Chuuya was baffled, his eyes musing on your figure. You missed him? Sure, the two of you got along quite well. You were on friendly terms– sometimes going out for a glass of wine or some coffee after work– but he never expected you to actually miss him. And watching you bent over his desk, back curved into a perfect arch as your boyfriend kept pounding you sure had an effect on him. God, how he wished he could be in Dazai's place for just one night, to have you all to himself and show you just how much he cared for you.

As if reading his thoughts, Dazai's grin widened. His hips slowed down, now flush against your ass, making you whine. "Say, Chuuya. My girl's been running her mouth a lot today. Think you can keep it occupied for a moment?"

Chuuya's fists clenched in anticipation. The brunette's words only made his erection worse. "You smug bastard..." he mumbled under his breath, looking down at you for some sort of confirmation.

You gave him a small nod, your gaze taking in the tent in his pants as you sheepishly licked your lips. Now, Chuuya couldn't possibly say no to that. He hastly unbuckled his belt and let it fall to the ground with a clink, pulling down his fly before positioning himself in front of you.

"You sure it's alright?" he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. You nodded again, giving him that sweet smile of yours as you hooked a finger under the wristband of his pants. Eager, you were so so eager and he was more than happy to indulge you. Chuuya pulled his suit pants and slacks down to reveal his leaking cock. Without wasting a second you lolled out your tongue, licking a stripe from the understide of his dick to the tip. "Shiit–" he hissed, one of his gloved hands coming to rest on the crown of your head, pushing himself deeper into your mouth with a groan. "Damn baby pretty mouth's gonna milk me dry~ so fucking good yeaa". You bobbed your head and hollowed your cheeks as your tongue darted around his sensitive tip, earning another choked moan from him.

From behind you Dazai clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Don't get too comfortable, you two" he said sharply, suddenly resuming his previous pace. The intensity of his thrusts had you moaning on Chuuya's cock, sending the redhead straight to heaven and back. His grip on your hair tightened–nails lightly grazing your scalp as he began pushing your head up and down his length. His tip hit the back of your throat each time he thrusted into your mouth making you gag in protest.

Dazai smirked, raising one of his hands to land a harsh slap on your ass. "Look at you, 'donna. Choking on another's man cock shiit– one just ain't enough for you is it? You greedy girl..." he purred, running his bandaged hand over the red mark "Ya know what happens to greedy girls, r-right?". He picked up the pace, further abusing your sweet spot. Dazai hissed when he felt your walls clamping down on him, squeezing him in all the right places.

Your were whoozy, completely drunk on the pleasure the two men were granting you. Due to Chuuya desperately chasing his high it was getting more and more difficult to breathe. Not that you cared anyway. It felt too good and frankly you were too far gone– after all Dazai's been teasing and edging you for more than half an hour now. The tight knot in your stomach snapped, your walls spasming around Dazai's dick as you came.

With one last deep thrust Dazai released his load inside your hole, stuffing you full with his creamy cum. "Oh fuck bella y-yea~ that's it. God you feel so good pretty girl-"

Chuuya gazed down at your face with half lidded eyes, watching you ride out your high. His hips bucked further into your mouth earning a low whine from you "Baby 'm close too h-haa" he babbled out, his breath catching in his throat. All you could do was hum in approval, allowing him to use your mouth to reach his high. Soon after Chuuya came too, spilling his seed down your throat. His choked breathing eventually simmered down and he removed himself from your mouth– his cock coated in stick cum and your saliva leaking onto his pants. You swallowed eagerly, opening your mouth for him.

"I didn't even tell you to swallow..." sighed Chuuya, tracing your lips with his thumb. You pursed your lips, kissing his the pad of his finger and oh how the gesture soothed the man's soul.

Before you got a change to say something Dazai chimed in "Well, what can I say? I taught her well" . You glanced back at him, obviosuly infuriated by his comment but he only chuckled in response. "Sorry darling. You're just too cute sometimes I can't help it." Steadily, he pulled out of you, gathering the sweet mix of your juices that dripped out of your pretty cunt with two fingers and bringing it to his lips. "Ya taste as good as always baby."

After all of you got dressed you stood in mild awkward silence– mostly on Chuuya's part. He watched Dazai as he pampered you with kisses, whispering hushed nothings in your ear as he placed the papers on his desk back in order. The whole situation was strange to say the least, still it was something he could get used to. Not too long after you giggled, taking a seat on the leather chair behind the desk as you opened your phone. "So... you guys wanna order some takeout or something? I could eat some Chinese food."

#𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝༘ ೀ⋆｡˚#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd smut #dazai bsd #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai smut #chuya smut #bsd chuya #bsd chuuya #chuya nakahara #chuya x reader

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seventeencryinghorses-blog · 1 month

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Dude I keep trying to do my book report but the book is so boring bro. I feel bad saying that since it's based on a true story but I'm trying my best. I might be cooked though it's due today. Have this that I wrote instead.

Charm You to Jealousy

Shanks x top male reader. Smut. Reader gets jealous because Shanks is handsome. Spoilers for Ep 1112. This isn't dubcon Shanks just likes being whiny. 3,180~ words.

“Haha..” Shanks laughs awkwardly as he catches the woman that lunged onto him. Everyone around him fawns over him, worrying over if he’s going to be okay or that he doesn’t need to be the one to defeat Kid. He’s flattered, he really is, but he needs to get going! He doesn’t mean to underestimate Kid, but he doesn’t overestimate him either. He holds the woman to his body for a moment before pulling back and walking to the dock. He turns back to look at them “Don’t worry, our enemies are famously weak.” The redhead says cheekily. It’s only when his expression lands on you that it falters ever so slightly. There’s a smile on your face as you look at how beloved he is, the way women he’s most likely been with before you swoon over him, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. It’s when he’s about to say bye to you, to try and show he hasn’t forgotten about you, when his eyes widen and his observation haki gives him a vision of an unfortunate future. Panic fills his mind and he takes one quick glance at you then quickly jumps off to save everyone. You watch him go, it’s to be expected. How admirable he is, you love him for that; plus, your comfort in the moment is much less than the lives of countless. You look down at the women that were with him, resting your chin on your hand. They’re pretty, the type of women Shanks was into before you two started to date. You don’t have their large breasts or their soft features, nor the body meant to connect with someone the opposite gender. You aren’t one to feel too insecure about that, of course. It’s been proven enough that Shanks is more than into you. You look out into the ocean, watching as your love saves the day once again. An ugly emotion blooms in your heart, unwelcome and dark.

…………..

After everything is done, he finally gets a moment to rest his mind. Looking at the sinking ship of the Kid pirates, he sighs. “Kids these days get too strong too fast.” He says as he walks further onto the Red Force. Shanks expected Kid to have gotten stronger, but enough to destroy multiple ships at once was unexpected. It’s then that your expression comes to mind, the smile that didn’t reach your eyes. He looks around a few times after he remembers but doesn’t see you “Shit.” He mumbles to himself. His crew overhears this and start to snicker despite Shanks’s small panic.

“In trouble, Captain?” Yasopp asks teasingly and Shanks sighs as they sail back to the island’s dock.

“Hopefully not too much..” The redhead says, but before he can go look for you inside the ship, people call for him. ‘Dammit.’ What’s worse, he feels your gaze on him. It’s harsh, and he resists the urge to shiver. He needs to go find you, but he should calm his subordinates first. He hops off of the ship and, again, a woman hugs his waist. She clings to him happily and he puts his hand on her hip, trailing it up to pat her back. “See? I told you everything would be fine.” He tells everyone.

“You took care of him so easily! We have to have a celebration!” One of the men say and Shanks, for the first time in a long while, actually feels not that excited for a celebration. He’s always excited to drink, of course, but the longer he keeps you waiting the worse things are going to be.

“A celebration for beating such a weak pirate?” He asks, raising a brow. “You sure you aren’t just using me as an excuse to party?”

“Nonsense! Our chief saving our island and people is always a cause for celebration!” The man responds and everyone cheers.

‘This isn’t working out.’ Shanks thinks to himself. “That sounds great but I should get going.”

“Ehhh? Already?” They all yell. “We wanted to thank you for saving us though!”

“Yeah, sorry. No need to thank me either, it’s my fault a big shot came to this island.” The captain continues to try and escape from the people, picking up a few women to place them further back. Beckman watches this, amused. He almost considers letting the redhead deal with this himself, but alas, he is the first mate and he is supposed to help the captain.

“C'mon everyone, let the Captain rest.” Beckman tells them, patting one of them on the back while he motions for the other townspeople to leave as well.

“Yeah, don’t tire him out now, he’s gonna need his energy!” Lucky Roux says knowingly with a laugh, making Shanks cringe.

“Well, okay. See you later Chief!” The women and men say, a few giving him a kiss on the cheek. Once they’re gone Shanks sighs in relief, then slowly trails his vision over to you, sweating as he notices an even more insincere smile on your face. You narrow your eyes sinisterly and head inside the ship. He curses and quickly makes his way inside too.

“We’ll save you a seat, Captain!” Lucky yells to him.

“Yeah, and we’ll make sure it’s cushioned too!” Yasopp adds and they all start to laugh, voices fading as Shanks follows you. He trails through the halls and eventually finds you, grabbing your shoulder to turn you towards him.

“Heyyyy!” He says with a friendly voice, “You know they don’t mean anything to me, right, love? Well not ‘anything’ but not like you-” He’s interrupted as you grab his collar and pull him into a rough kiss. He takes a step back, and you pin him to the wall. He shivers slightly as your tongue slips into his mouth and his into yours, intertwining the two muscles. Shanks grips onto your arm and groans softly when you lick the roof of his mouth. With that, you pull away, a string of saliva connecting the two of you for a moment. His face flushed as he catches his breath, voice full of anxious hope. “...Is this a sign you’re not that mad at me…?” The redhead asks, panicking as one of your hands slips under his shirt and grips tightly onto his waist. Your eyes narrow and your smile widens.

“What do you think?”

_______________________

“Hah~ nnGH~!” Shanks groans into the pillow, clutching the sheets beside his head like a lifeline as you slam into his lifted hips mercilessly. He’s already cum twice, you once, sweat glistening on his back as the muscles tense under your hand with every thrust. Your other hand goes to his hair and pulls his head up, his mind swimming as you lean over him.

“Don’t hide now, thought you loved the attention?” Your voice rumbles into his ear and his dick twitches, his eyes rolling back for a second when an especially hard pump hits his prostate harshly.

“s..sorry soRRy- AHh~!” Shanks moans with a gasp as you spank him, the hand on his back moving to squeeze one of his pecs.

“No, there’s nothing to apologize for. How could I blame my lover for being himself? Even if he’s an attention whore.” You pinch his swollen nipple harshly, sending pain and pleasure through his body. “I’ll give you the attention you crave, enough to feel it when you show yourself off to everyone else.” Shanks thinks about being in front of his subordinates, trying to hide the pain in his lower half and cover any marks made by you. The feeling of him squeezing around you makes you chuckle. “You liked that, didn’t you? The thought of them finding out their strong chief got fucked like a slut then tried going to their celebration like it didn’t happen. Wonder what those girls would think, knowing that. They probably think or even remember you as some dominant man. Fantasizing about you when the truth is you’re addicted to getting used by your boyfriend.” You grab and lift his torso up, wrapping your arms around his waist so you can pound into him so hard he forgets how to think; only able to let out a weak groan as he cums for the 3rd time. All that comes out of his mouth are moans and whines now, unable to form words as tears form in his eyes from overstimulation. That doesn’t matter though, you know he can keep going. “Is my pretty slut tired? You can give me one more, right?” You ask and he shakes his head, gasping when you press a hand on his lower stomach. “You can, don’t underestimate yourself.” Shanks whines as you suck a hickey into his back, whispering dirty praises into his ear until he’s aroused enough to get hard again. “There you go~” He feels like he’s about to collapse as you kiss the back of his neck. “C’mon, be good for me, Captain.” You stop to grind into him, making him groan at the feeling of your dick massaging his prostate. Your cum is pushed further into him and his dick twitches in pleasure.

“(Y/n)..” His voice rumbles as his eyes close, mind clearing up just enough to say your name.

“Turn your head.” You tell him and press your lips against his, his eyes going half lidded with a mewl as you start to thrust again. He’s kissing back despite his foggy head, instinct from making out with you. It’s not done yet though, and once you feel like he’s had enough time to calm you start getting rough again. He’s struggling to keep himself up, your arm wrapping around his waist the only thing keeping his hips lifted.

‘I’m.. gonna pass out.’ Shanks manages to think. ‘Feels too good…!’ He curses that he didn’t take care of Kid sooner, instead choosing to calm the nerves of the people first. Out of character for the captain, but he can’t think rationally when he’s getting fucked to an inch of his life and his love is upset with him. His orgasm starts to form inside of him and he pulls away from the kiss to pant. He’s gonna die, he’s gonna die and it’s because he’s too handsome and charming to be unpopular. Your voice reaches his ears, but his brain can’t make it out very well, just knowing that it’s you behind him. At least you’re the one that’ll kill him, this might not be so bad. He lets out a gasp when you twitch inside him then grab his dick. "W-Wait wait!” He’s able to cum untouched, but he’ll need a bit of help this time. He grabs your wrist, weakly tugging to no avail as you start to jerk him off. Shanks looks back at you with teary eyes, pleading.

“Shh, it’s okay. Just this last time. After that you can go to that party and pretend you’re a perfect handsome man. For now,” It doesn't work. You tighten your grip and he sobs. “I just need you to cum again for me.” He looks forward, tears streaming from his eyes as he feels himself reaching that peak again. Finally, he lets out a loud broken cry as he shakes and spasms around you. “Fuck you’re so pretty like this.” You coo into his ear as it rips through him like lightning, pain and pleasure filling his body. You can’t hold back longer either, the urge to cum into him again filling your mind. Your grunts mix with his weak whimpers, so slutty and vocal for you. “I-I want you to remember this, everytime someone puts their hands or eyes on you with want, I want you to remember how easily you moan for my c-cock.” You grunt out, ending your sentence with your dick shooting cum into his warm walls. You don’t know if he heard you say that, but you know his body will remember for him. After a while of catching your breath you pull out of him, a lewd sticky noise accompanying before seeing your cum flow out of him. “Fuck, what a sight..." You mumble, burning the image into your head. Sweat glistens on his back and his head spins before he goes limp. “Ah.” You lay him down and turn him over onto his back, your breath catching in your throat. His hair sticks to his forehead, tears staining his face and his lips swollen with kissing and biting. There’s hand marks on his waist and hips, bite marks around his swollen nipples. He’s completely wrecked, his closed eyes opening just to look at you for a few seconds before he manages to give a weak smile; then he passes out. “Oops.” You exclaim, then look at the clock in the room. At this rate he’s gonna be late, but looking back at him you doubt he can go in this state; even if the thought is slightly nice to think about. Just a bit. Plus, your body is also a bit exhausted, to be honest. Love conquers all, though, and you get off of the bed and onto your feet; picking up your unconscious boyfriend to clean him up as best you can. It’s a bit difficult when he’s unconscious, but you make sure to use warm water and lots of care. He stays asleep the entire time, which isn't too surprising since he can sleep through most things; though he does make cute hums in his sleep when you rinse off his hair and snores when you’re drying him off. Once he’s all cleaned up you change the sheets quickly and place him onto the bed. It’s a good thing you’re strong, Shanks isn’t light by any means. You stand there, staring at him. ‘Is he.. gonna be able to go like this?’ You ask yourself, seeing his burnt out body. ‘I’ll go see Hongo just in case.’ As soon as you step into Hongo’s office he tosses icepacks and ointments to you.

“Here.” He’s too used to you and Shanks’s antics to be unprepared or surprised, especially when he could hear his captain’s moans while walking through the hallway to get to his office. “Seriously, I don’t know if I should be impressed with him or you that you guys manage to make that much noise. We even put soundproofed it too.” Hongo says with a sigh.

“I’m just that good.” You gloat jokingly, holding the items in your arms.

“Yeah, well, we don’t need to know to this extent.” The doctor replies and you laugh a little. “I don’t know how rough you were with him, but people are gonna be disappointed if the captain doesn’t go.” Your eyebrows furrow s the consequences of your actions settle in. “Don’t make that expression. He’s grown, he knew what he was doing.” You tilt your head in confusion but Hongo just waves you off to figure it out yourself. It’s when you get back to your shared room when you put the pieces together, could it have been on purpose? No way, right? Shanks is on the bed, snoring loudly. You walk over and put an icepack on his neck, causing him to jolt awake.

“Cold!” He yelps, coughing afterwards from the strain of his voice. You hand him a glass of water, he takes it and gulps it down. “Thanks, sweetiepie.” You stare at him and he’s confused. “What, do I have something on my face? Other than handsomeness, of course.” His voice is raspy, but you still catch the slight nervousness.

“Did you make me jealous on purpose?” You ask him and he quickly avoids eye contact. “So you did.” He scratches the back of his head.

“I didn’t think you would get that jealous.” The redhead mumbles and you resist the urge to shake him.

“I knew it was weird, you were leaning into those kisses and you didn’t need to put your hand near her ass either.” You pinch the bridge of your nose as Shanks laughs anxiously. He pats his lap.

“C’mon~ It’s not that big a deal. Plus, my hand was an appropriate distance away from her ass. I would kn-” You grab and squeeze his nose harshly. “Owowow sorry sorry, I couldn’t resist the joke!” If he wasn’t already a wreck you would’ve bonked his head by now.

“You’re going to the banquet.” You state, letting go of his nose.

“I want to, but I’m a little.. well..” He motions to his naked body covered in marks. “I’m getting old too, my hips hurt like hell. I wouldn’t be surprised if you aged them.”

“I said earlier that you would go, yeah? So you’re going. I’ll carry you over there like a pretty princess if I have to.” You tell him and he gets a serious look on his face as he actually considers the pros and cons of being carried like a pretty princess. The pros are he doesn’t have to walk over there and he can just use you instead of having to get up, the cons are that his crew would make fun of him and he isn’t sure how the rest would react. “You seemed pretty interested in people finding out earlier.” His cheeks tint slightly at that, he would allow it if it was just his immediate crew but there’s too many reasons to not do the same in front of everyone else.

“I’ll go, you can carry me some other time.” He stands up and almost falls over until you catch him. “Shit, you did a bigger number than me than I thought.” Shanks doesn’t want to leave everyone hanging though. Thankfully, you two are used to this. You put him down on the bed and put ointment on any bigger marks or bites, he shivers a little when you put it on his nipples. Once that’s done you dress him up and ice his eyes and lips. “Can’t see.” He says as the icepack covers his vision, voice muffled by the one on his lips.

“Hold it.” You tell him and he takes over icepack duty, you take the chance to put makeup over any visible marks. Would be easier to just button up his shirt but that would cause way more attention than a few faint marks. Once everything’s done he puts the icepacks down. To be honest, his face still looks like a mess.

“Maybe we can put some lipstick on me, only if you kiss it on tho-” You put the icepack back on his lips. Should be fine, Shanks looks a little rough all the time anyway. Maybe you guys can say it was the heat that did it.

………………

“Woohoo! Congratulations!” Yeah the excuse didn’t work. At least everyone was happy for you, even the women from before. They seemed really bummed at first but they changed their mind when they saw Shanks’s face and the faint marks. They started going to you instead or staring at Shanks in awe. Apparently it’s way more interesting to stare at a handsome man slightly wrecked than try and have him when he’s taken. Love conquers all, even if their curious stares are a little embarrassing.

Yeah I'm cooked lol its due in like 6 hours.

#one piece #anime only #shanks #one piece x reader #anime #shanks x reader #fanfiction #shanks x male reader #shanks x top male reader #top male reader #bottom character #one piece smut #smut #shanks smut #shanks gets railed nasty style

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nataliasquote · 2 months

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Mustang [pt.2] | n romanoff

Summary: When Natasha takes her new friend to the local barn dance, tensions arise and suddenly she’s faced with a decision. Stay loyal to her neighbours or risk it all for a wild stranger?

Warnings: none :)

wc: 2.5k

note: hiii :) I watched ‘Twisters’ last night and my new obsession with Tyler Owens/ Glen Powell spurred me on to give you another addition to Cowgirl!Natasha :) I hope you enjoy, there will be more parts!

-⧗-

Natasha was nothing if not true to her word. Her best pair of boots shining to perfection, hat keeping her wavy hair out of her face, the redhead pushed through the saloon doors right on time. She couldn’t stop the smile from spreading as she locked eyes on the woman from before, who was leaning with her elbow on the polished wooden bar. They locked eyes for a second, a sparkle dancing across Natasha’s crystal clear irises and she squared her shoulders whilst weaving through the table with a soft smile.

“She returns,” Y/n announced with a grin once the redhead was in earshot, earring back a quick smirk. “I was beginning to think you’d left me out here.”

“A true woman is never late,” Natasha quickly countered. She held out her hand with a flourish and stepped back, dramatically offering Y/n assistance. “Now, would you be so kind as to accompany me to the barn dance, darlin’?”

“Ever the charmer!” Clint yelled from the opposite end of the bar where he was polishing beer glasses. Natasha rolled her eyes in jest but remained focussed on the gorgeous stranger before her who had risen from her barstool and was adjusting the waist of her jeans from sitting so long. She couldn’t lie, Natasha well and truly dragged her eyes up and down the woman’s body with absolutely no shame - she truly was a lover of all things female.

“Show me the way, sweetheart.” The nickname made Natasha melt slightly inside but her external composure never faltered, despite how weak she was just below the surface. “You’ve set my hopes high with this one.”

Natasha chuckled as the cool night air brushed their faces, a welcome feeling from the usual stuffiness of the saloon. There was a buzz in the air and the faint sound of music drifted over from the larger barns towards the end of the street, spurring the couple onwards.

“This town may not be good for much,” she started with a shrug, “but it sure knows how to throw a damn good party.”

“I’ve been to a few in my time, so we’ll see how yours holds up.”

Natasha glanced over and winked before pushing open the gate and allowing Y/n to walk past. “Let me show you the best night of your life.” Her tone was suggestive and Y/n didn’t miss it.

“Well, Romanoff, you’re already starting it off alright.” They both paused outside and felt the thumb of music in their chests before Natasha grabbed her hat and pushed the doors open, allowing the electric atmosphere to hit them both in the stomach. Y/n couldn’t contain the laugh that fell from her lips as her eyes darted around the crowded barn in wonder - it was unlike anything she’d ever seen, and she’d seen a lot.

Barn dances were commonplace in nearly all western towns, but none had the energy that this one did. Natasha’s hand quickly slid around Y/n’s waist protectively as they skirted around the dancefloor, not wanting to get trampled by the current line dance. The other woman blushed slightly at the contact but welcomed her warm hand, it feeling surprisingly natural the way it resided just below her belt. Forever the lone wolf, Natasha’s presence was strangely comforting, even after just a couple of hours.

They slid onto a pair of stools at the opposite end of the bar where the crowd wasn’t so thick, allowing the pair to survey the room comfortably. Natasha nodded to Yelena, who was seated at one of the tables across the floor, revolver in front of her hands.

“That’s my sister,” Natasha introduced, rolling her eyes as Yelena tipped her hat and winked.

“She’s a charmer, for sure.”

Natasha grabbed the two ice cold bottles that had been placed in front of them and slid one to her new companion, shaking her head with a groan. “She’s nothing but trouble and definitely not worth your time.”

Y/n narrowed her eyes, scanning Natasha’s face which made the redhead blush. She was losing her composure by the second and it jarred her.

“What you looking at?”

“Why do you hate this place so much?” Y/n asked, not caring that she was overstepping Natasha’s high boundaries. “You don’t have anything good to say about it, is it really all that bad?”

Natasha hesitated, rubbing her fingers over the damp label on her beer bottle. It’s not that she hated the town or the people, they were fine as far as she was concerned. But the promise of more would always weigh on her mind, darkening her current situation.

“No, it’s just… there’s nothing for me here,” she replied, keeping her eyes down. She didn’t want to see another person laugh at her ambition. But Y/n did nothing of the sort.

“Not even your family?” Her voice wavered at the end.

Natasha scoffed. “They think I’m crazy for ever wanting to leave. My Pa just wants me to find a respectable husband and start a family, but that’ll never be me.”

“Not a lover?”

Natasha finally looked up from the table and caught Y/n’s eyes, the orange light dancing across her pupils like fire. “Not for those in this town,” she muttered, before shaking her head and placing her bottle down a little too firmly. “It would be rude of me to invite the lady of the hour to a barn dance and not offer her a turn, so, will you?” She slid off her stool and held her hand out, which Y/n accepted with a smirk before the two women crossed to the dance floor, ignoring the drunk men staring at their every move.

The beat rang out and everyone stamped their heels, thumbs falling naturally into the belt loops on jeans as the dance began. Y/n followed along with a wide smile on her face, the atmosphere feeling electric in her veins. She was a sucker for a dance, getting lost in the music within the crowd, only the instruments and the sound of boots on the dusty wood floor filling her ears.

With Natasha by her side, she felt more carefree than she had in a while, lifting her arms high above her head as she turned. The redhead watched her out of the corner of her eye, watching how her hips swayed in her fitted jeans and how easily she moved. Sure, Natasha had flirted a lot with many women, but very few had her as captivated as this stranger did. Where was she from? Did she do… love? Natasha was getting ahead of herself, and her mind was spinning, leaving her stumbling to stay on time in the dance.

As the song ended, Y/n didn’t want to return to the bar. She tugged Natasha’s arm, begging her to stay for a few more songs, to which the redhead caved. She missed Yelena’s smirk from across the room, laughing to Kate as they watched amused. Natasha spent more time watching Y/n dance than she did paying attention to her own feet. As much as Natasha was reluctant everytime the song ended, she would have danced for days if Y/n wanted to. She never wanted this moment to end.

But when did anything good ever last? The cheers of the crowd after the latest song were suddenly interrupted by two gunshots, pausing the festivities immediately. Natasha grabbed her revolver and pushed Y/n behind her, much to the brunette’s surprise. She had her hand on her own gun but didn’t want to unnerve anyone as she was the outsider and did not want to create another bad reputation.

There was commotion by the main doors and Alexei’s voice boomed loudly above the rest, silencing the chatter. Ol’ Joe hobbled forwards, his face burning with rage as he shakily held his gun in the air.

“Where’s the new girl!” He yelled, beady eyes scanning the crowd as they parted to reveal Y/n, and in turn Natasha who did not flinch. She reached for the brunette’s hand and held it tight behind her back. “You!”

“What is going on?” Natasha asked, stepping forward before Ol’ Joe could progress any further.

“My prize cow is dead and it’s because of her!” He shoved a finger in Y/n’s direction as the crowd yelled, their chants now hostile towards the stranger.

“She didn’t do nothin’!” Natasha defended, feeling a pressure rise in her chest. She looked back at Y/n who had paled slightly but retained an iron grip on the handle of her gun in the holster. “She’s been with me all day.”

The crowd roared and Alexei appeared, his arms folded over his chest as he observed the scene in front of him.

“Defending a stranger and a killer? I always knew there was something off about you,” Ol’ Joe hissed, moving forward so the barrel was pressed against Natasha’s sternum.

“Nat…” Y/n warned. This was her fight, even if she had nothing to do with the cows at all. But roping her new and only friend into this fight wasn’t worth it and she’d be damned if Natasha got caught up in a gunfight because of her. “Leave it.”

But when did Natasha Romanoff ever do as she was told? She ignored Y/n pleas and used two fingers to slowly push Ol’ Joe’s barrel down. “Where’s your proof?” She stated, not letting go of his gun. She felt everyone’s eyes on her, including the disapproving ones of her father, but that was nothing new and Natasha never backed down. “Go on, where’s the proof it was her?”

Ol’ Joe stuttered, his mouth turning dry. Natasha truly was intimidating when she wanted to be, her green eyes piercing, almost like they could see everything a person was hiding.

“Natasha this isn’t your fight,” Y/n spoke up again, pushing forwards so she was just in front of the redhead.

“No,” Natasha countered. “I won’t have them targeting you just because you’re a stranger. I know it wasn’t you.”

“Put a bullet in her head!” Someone yelled from the crowd, encouraging an uproar to start. Natasha’s patience was wearing thin, and with still no reply from Ol’ Joe about why it must be Y/n, she was at her wits end. Clicking the safety off her gun, she aimed it at the ceiling and shot three times, her usual warning call. Well rehearsed and functional.

On cue, Yelena surged up from her table and shot another three bullets into the back wall, diverting everyone’s attention away from the women in the centre. Natasha shoved past Ol’ Joe, her hand clamped around Y/n’s wrist so she could not protest. But when the old farmer grabbed her other wrist, Natasha clenched her fist and punched him clean in the nose before running for the side door, Y/n hot on her heels.

“Where are we going? She shouted as Natasha broke into a sprint, her boots kicking up the dust with every step. “Natasha!”

But the redhead didn’t answer, the smart thing to do. She headed for a small gap between the buildings and rounded the corner, dodging old fence posts in the barely lit back street. Y/n followed her blindly, her heart rate increasing every time a new voice yelled out behind her. She didn’t know how many townsfolk were following them, there was no time to turn and check, but she knew by the sound of thundering boots that there were enough.

The redhead sharply turned left into one of the barns near the end of the street, her feet slipping on the damp straw. She looked up, breathing heavy, into the darkness of the rafters.

“Gimme your foot,” she whispered to Y/n who just looked at her confused as she cupped her hands. “Do it or you’ll die!”

The brunette eyed the small space above them and threw caution to the wind, allowing the pointed toe of her boot to nestle into Natasha’s interlocked fingers. The redhead lifted her up until she could reach the ledge and pull herself over, rolling into a pile of musty hay and cobwebs.

Natasha’s head suddenly whipped around, the sound of footsteps getting louder by the second. She took a few steps back and ran, giving herself enough of a run-up so she could jump off a nearby hay bale and grasp the ledge, using all the strength in her arms to pull herself up and over. Y/n grabbed her forearms and tugged her back just as the doors flew open.

The women pressed themselves as far back as possible, not daring to breathe until someone yelled ‘got nothing’ and they were finally alone again. Natasha let out a breath, her head falling back until it hit a wooden beam behind her. But her hat was in the way and she tugged it off, allowing it to fall beside her.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Ol’ Joe never knows when to pull in his horns. Was probably a coyote or something that took his cow, or a lone wolf. But he never gives up the chance to point fingers, especially at someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

“An outsider and a woman…”

Y/n averted her eyes, even if she knew that was the reason she was always mistreated. It never mattered which town she was in, someone always found an issue with her, which kept her moving.

“Well, those things never change. It’s not all good what I do.”

That shut Natasha up. One of the horses shuffled around its stable and poked its head out, making Natasha smile. Of course Liho knew she was here.

“Hey buddy,” she muttered, even if she was too far away for him to hear. But Y/n heard and leaned over, taking a gander at the midnight black horse.

“He yours?”

Natasha nodded. “That’s my Liho.”

“He’s gorgeous,” Y/n complimented. “Is this your family stable? Won’t they know to check here?”

Natasha shook her head. “No, that one is further down. I keep Liho here so he won’t be targeted,” she admitted, peeling a piece of hay between her fingers. “Only Kate, Peter and Yelena know he’s here.”

Y/n hummed and stretched her legs out in front of her. Her boots were battered, but she reached into her left one and pulled out a knife, twirling it around until the blade landed flat against her palm.

“You keep knives in your boots?” Natasha exclaimed, fascinated.

Y/n smirked at her child-like wonder. “You don’t?”

“I do now,” Natasha answered with a raise of her brow. A comfortable silence fell between them, the distant sounds of the crowd echoing down the street. Natasha’s hand fell by her side, brushing against Y/n’s accidentally. But despite the surprise, neither woman moved. Their fingers twitched, pinkies slowly moving across the damp hay until they linked. A strangely childish motion, but it was strangely comforting. The smallest of touches, no words, yet a million thoughts were exchanged.

And when Natasha reached her hand over even further and fully encased Y/n’s in her own, something released in her heart. Nothing had ever felt so right before and Natasha knew she was officially screwed. She would never be able to let her go.

#natasha romanoff #marvel #fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #natasha romanoff oneshot #cowgirl natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #cowgirl #western fic #western #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff hot #black widow imagine #mustang

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mysteria157 · 4 months

Text

Moment Two: Your Daughter's First Pair

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

CW: fluff, profanity (not really), sexual suggestion, slight angst (very minimal).

Word Count: ~3.4k

Summary: Nanami joins you and your daughter for a family tradition, but he may not be as strong as he thinks.

Set in the It Had To Be You universe but you don't need a lot of backstory to follow along.

Notes: This was a random thought that I had based on something that has always been a thing in my family that I wanted to write out. There is nothing significant about this, I have not written Nanami in a LONG time, so I'm trying to warm myself up again. I am so rusty but I'm using fleeting moments of inspiration and taking advantage of it.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome! Happy reading!

Divider: @saradika | Header: myself

MINORS DNI

“You don’t need to hold her so tight.”

“I’m protecting her.”

“And what am I, a goat?”

He raises a brow at your jest, autumn wheat and elegant but nonetheless annoyed as he glares at you. He doesn’t mean it, you know that—it’s all nerves.

“Ken, we don’t have to do this you know? If you’re against the idea, we can wait a few more years.”

“I’m not against it,” he reassures you, adjusting your daughter in his arms. Ulani babbles up at him, her chubby hands digging into a sharply cut cheekbone. He carries on without complaint, already used to her behavior. “This is a tradition, and I understand it but…”

You turn a key chain in one hand, your thumb smoothing along the glittery face of a dog—or is it a cat? The rack is filled with key chains of different colors, animals and objects, bringing back memories of middle school when you would drag your best friend Omelia into this same store in Sendai before it closed down. Despite the many years that have passed, the store chain still has its subtle hues of purples and pinks, earrings punched through purple cardboard paper, pens with wonky erasers, and headbands of different designs.

“But what?” you try to finish for him, smiling up at his nervous form as he lets Ulani talk to him in her own baby language.

Kento pulls in a deep breath as if to steel his nerves and prepare for the inevitable. He’s praying to whoever will listen, trying to use every coping mechanism in the book. He’s wearing jeans that hug his fit thighs and a dark blue short sleeve that shows too much bicep for your liking (you should give him a dress code). There are only so many single and married women and men that you can glare at in a day, and the redhead over by the register is pushing it.

“Will it hurt her?” your boyfriend’s low timber pulls you back, filled with apprehension, and he keeps mahogany eyes on his daughter to avoid showing you just how scared he is. You rub his back to soothe him, tracing the bands of muscle that are tense behind the soft fabric.

“I-I’m worried.”

“And you shouldn’t be. It’s a simple thing, lasts two seconds. Just like when she got her first shots.”

That’s not enough for him, because now Kento furrows his eyebrows in frustration, bouncing his daughter in his arms to entertain her and also soothe himself. “There are a lot of things to consider. The risk of infection. Rejection. What if she hates them? What if they get caught on her clothes? Or her curls? Or—”

“Are we ready?” one of the employee’s sing songs from behind you both, walking towards the singular chair perched against the glass wall of the store.

“I—” Kento croaks, clearing his throat and swallowing loudly. He looks down at you. “Are we?”

In the time you’ve known him, you’ve only seen Kento visibly nervous a handful of times. That stoic demeanor is a smooth, stone-like shell to everyone else besides family and close friends, but you know the weak spots and have glimpsed into the fragmented sections only visible to your eyes. Right now, he’s nervous and fearful beyond belief. That all encompassing love and attention that he shows you from sunup to sundown extends to his daughter as well. If there is one person besides you, who can make Nanami Kento show his emotions freely and without reservation no matter the date, place, or time, it’s Ulani.

“How about you hold her?” you suggest and give him a small push towards the black chair. Two employees work at the small kiosk next to him, unwrapping sterile materials and cotton swabs. Kento’s eyes watch every movement, searching for any sign of threat that can give him the ammunition to take his daughter and never come back. You can practically hear his thoughts:

“Is that up to code?”

“How long has that been sealed?”

“What is the name of the manufacturer so that I can ensure it’s reputable?”

Your roll your own eyes, knowing how right you might be.

When you found out your pediatrician would be on her own maternity leave, you let Kento research every establishment in Tokyo until he found one in Shibuya. Reputable, good reviews, and well-practiced in this procedure.

Of course, you’re nervous too. She’s your daughter, a combination of you and Kento, conceived from a very drunken night of disdain but grown out of eventual love and adoration. The thought of her crying in pain makes that maternal part of you flare with anger and the consuming need to protect her forever. But you’ve prepared for this for awhile.

Kento? Not so much.

“Is that clean?” your boyfriend asks one of the employees, clutching his daughter a little tighter. It’s a little rude, but the employee smiles at him in a way that conveys understanding of his trepidation. This isn’t their first rodeo.

“Completely sterile from the package. I promise she’s in great hands.” Deep eyes free of steampunk-esque glasses flicker up at her in doubt, but he simply sniffs and looks back to his daughter instead to withhold a scathing remark. “How about one of us on each side, and we do it at once?” she suggests, addressing him directly. It helps, as he gives her a somber but curt nod.

He situates Ulani in his arms so she’s sitting fully on his lap, his large hands holding her up with a slight tremble. The sight is enough to remind you again that this is new territory for him. What has always been a normal tradition for you and the other females in your life, is a foreign concept for him.

Ear piercings are a milestone in a young girl’s life. You got yours as a baby, and so did your mother. Omelia got hers as a baby, as did all her female cousins, as did her mother and the mother before her. If you interacted with your mother’s side of the family, then maybe you would know if your cousins also did the same.

But that’s another thought for another time, and you refuse to let painful memories tarnish what should be a memory you are crafting on your own, right now.

You step closer and run your hands through thick blond locks that are free of gel. You brush the strands from his forehead, letting the soft texture slip past your fingertips as he relaxes instantly. With his place in his chair, he’s at the perfect height to rest his head on your stomach, and he does so a second later.

One of his hands brushes light brown curls from his daughters ears. You can feel the unease radiating from him with every deep breath he takes, and you scratch that spot at his nape that makes him shudder, hoping it will help.

The muscles in Kento’s neck bunch together instead when one of the employee’s leans toward Ulani to make marks in deep purple, and even your own stomach turns in response at what’s to come.

“Okay, we will do this on three. How’s that sound honey?” one of the employees coos at your daughter. Ulani, who is a carbon copy of her father, stares up at her, observant and sinking into her daddy before offering a gummy smile. “She’s so pretty.”

“She’s beautiful,” Kento corrects, slightly rough but still appreciative of the compliment. “Aren’t you, my dove?”

He tickles her side and offers a rare chuckle as she squeals up at him, wiggling in her father’s embrace. The sight makes your heart do flips because this is your world, day in and day out. Just you, Kento, and the person you’ve created together.

You step around to squat in front of him so you’re eye level with your daughter, a hand coming up to wiggle the toes covered in a tan sock. Her eyes catch you immediately, and she holds your gaze long enough for the two employees to position themselves on each side of her.

Kento holds his breath.

“Alright, here we go. One. Two. Three.”

They both move in sync, pressing down on the plastic gun so the studs slide through the soft lobe of Ulani’s lower ears. Kento’s eyebrows furl together immediately. Ulani’s eyes widen for a second before her face contorts, her mouth opening in a silent cry. Your heart hammers and your chest tightens in an sudden flood of sadness and desperation that crashes against you like a tumultuous wave when Ulani takes one heaving breath in….

And screams.

His reaction is quick. Kento bounces one leg at a tempo that alarms you, his handsome face flying through different stages of grief, anger, and pain as he watches the employees adjust the diamond earrings to ensure they heal without complication. His mouth opens and closes, jaw grinding to keep his rudeness in check, because you know what he wants to say.

He was the same way when she got her shots; all glares and sharp stares at everyone else because they were the source of her discomfort. But like that time before, you are the cooling balm for his hot anger as you wiggle your daughters toes and murmur soothing words at her, to show him that she’s going to be just fine.

“It’s okay, baby,” you smile softly and it’s enough to capture her attention even though she’s squealing and crying from the sharp but quick pain in her ears. But all too quickly, you’re not enough for her, because the daughter that you carried for almost ten months turns away and reaches for her father, crying loudly in his arms. It’s a sting that you prepared for, but nonetheless hurts with a severity that takes a few seconds for you to recover from.

By the time you pay one of the employees and exit the store, Ulani has already calmed down. Kento digs into the diaper bag on his shoulder and pulls out a cotton cloth, wiping her nose as she sniffles and whines into his shoulder.

“I know honey, I know,” he coos to her, wiping the tears from her light brown skin and swaying back and forth. “But you were so strong, weren’t you? Hmm? A lot stronger than me.”

He pulls her away from his neck, smiling softly at her, and that one smile makes your chest bloom with satisfaction. It’s times like these that remind you how your life has surprisingly fallen into place. Who would have thought that the man who used to drive you insane would be the only one fit for you?

That small twinge of hurt you felt minutes ago when Ulani turned away from you resurfaces, but reassurance cools it’s prickly edges. Even though this is a moment you may have been more connected with, it’s Kento who feels the painful side of it a lot more.

So you give him his own moment. You watch quietly as he kisses her chubby cheeks repeatedly, smiling into her skin at the giggles that leave her. You fall into the hum of the world around you as you watch him tuck away the cotton cloth and smooth the curls away from Ulani’s ears, finally admiring the diamonds that twinkle on each side. The lobes will be red for a few days, but for Ulani, she will never think of them again until she’s old enough to pay attention. Until she’s old enough to change them out to match the outfits she decides to wear, different colors and gemstones, and multiples if she ever has a streak of expression in her teenage years. Like you did.

Kento finally looks down at you, chestnut browns sparkling as he takes you in from head to toe. The harsh Shibuya sun beats down on bustling city square, but the rays are soft when they touch him. Tan skin is illuminated gold on his cheekbones, his hair luminous in the sun. You reach up to run a hand through his locks for the second time this afternoon, your heart still not used to the incessant hammering that arises when he leans into your touch.

You lift an accusatory eyebrow at him and hold back a chuckle when you speak. “Our daughter was the soldier this afternoon, and yet I’m coddling you?”

“Keep coddling,” he demands, voice tinged with mirth as he turns to place a kiss inside of your palm and then leans back into your stroking. “Today was very painful for me, have you no shame?”

You snort and dig your nails into his scalp in retaliation, enjoying the groan that rumbles in the air from your ministrations. “Don’t blame this one moment on your entire day. You had a great run, remember?”

“My slowest three mile run yet.” Quick on the draw, and you already know where this is going. Kento rarely complains, but when he does, it is about the most trivial things as a means to get and keep your attention.

“You made me pancakes this morning.”

“Not my best work. Too much cinnamon in the batter.”

“We made out two hours ago?”

“Ulani woke from her nap and interrupted what would have been a very enjoyable afternoon.” That complaint leaves his mouth in a grumble, and you purse your lips to hold off the laughter that sits in the back of your throat. He’s truly pouting, and god do you love him.

“And now seeing your daughter cry from her first ear piercing was icing on the cake of a bad day, I imagine?”

“Exactly.”

You finally giggle and playfully pull a strand of his hair. He narrows his eyes at you, mischievous yet still carrying that ingrained indifference that you know and love. Ulani shrieks in his arms, finally past her blip of crying and now ready for her parent’s attention. You take in her drool of a smile, slightly red ears, and brown onesie-dress, and the possibilities flood your mind. It’s…very overwhelming when the thoughts hit you: how she will grow into herself, develop her personality, her wants and desires, her hobbies and her dreams.

“Pay attention to me,” he interrupts your thoughts, and you can’t help the bark of laughter that you give him in response. Ulani mimics you, completely oblivious.

“You’re such a baby, and we have a baby,” you tease, snorting at his level expression and dusty cheeks, slightly shy but absorbing your presence. “You and Ulani have had it rough today. So how about a reward?” You look to your daughter when you ask, knowing damn well she has no idea what you’re saying but you want to include her anyway.

“How about frozen yogurt?” I.e., the unsweetened applesauce in the diaper bag for Ulani and matcha-flavored frozen yogurt for Kento from a favorite vendor a few blocks away. It’s an obsession of his that’s been appearing in the freezer with numbing regularity.

Kento remains unphased by your suggestion, though his lips twitch with the desire to smirk down at you.

“Seeing our daughter in pain was more heartbreaking than I thought. Food may not help, I’m afraid.”

Kento is milking his “pain” at this point, and you’re far too in love with him not to entertain the idea you know is floating in his head. You love this about him, just how playful he is when it comes to you.

“You’re a tough nut to crack.” You tap your chin as if you’re thinking hard, humming in contemplation. “How about…” you trail off, a hand sliding up a muscular bicep before massaging his nape again, relishing in the shudder he gives in response, his eyes twitching to hold back the urge to roll into his head in satisfaction. “Since you’ve suffered so much today…we can go home…and I’ll do that thing you like.”

You have the privilege and skill of being able to read Nanami Kento like a book. You don’t miss the glee that dances across his features—the uptick of one side of his mouth, the slow brow lift, the darkening of his irises. He knows exactly what that thing is. You’re pretty good at it—a master at it—and he made you promise that the day he ever turns that thing down, is the day you can leave him.

His cheeks explode in blush, jaw ticking before he clears his throat and smooths a sweaty hand down the dark blue of his shirt.

“I see,” he ponders, looking up to the sky as if in deep thought, and you know if you roll your eyes again, they’ll get stuck. “Well.” He situates Ulani in his arms and presses a few kisses to her cheek again to pull those giggles from her that you both love. “Who am I to deny your mother?” he suggests to his daughter. “Not a moment to waste, Ulani.”

“You’ve got to be kidding—”

“Quickly, before you change your mind.” He slides a hand to the small of your back as a means to hurry you along, pressing softly and turning you in the direction of the car.

You try to bat his hands away from you, giggles growing in volume as he dodges all your attempts to get rid of him. “I’m not going to change my mind, Ken—”

“Quickly.”

He takes your hand and you let him pull you, beaming at his back as he increases his pace. Ulani is happy as can be in her father’s arms and babbling as he talks softly to her.

“A snack before nap time sounds good, doesn’t it? What kind of applesauce would you like today?” She gurgles. “Cinnamon again? Hmmm, we should always try new things, Dove. What about the strawberry ones I bought you yesterday?” A squeal. “Strawberry it is. I think…”

The rest of their conversation fades into the background as you walk with them, warmth coursing through your veins with each step. It’s a warmth that catches you off guard, but has been ever present since Ulani’s birth. And you love every bit of how it feels. How it flows through you with every breath you take. How it only grows every minute, every hour, every day that you create a life with them.

After Ulani is buckled in her car seat and you slide your seat belt into its latch, Kento leans across the armrest, a warm hand sliding against your cheek in a gentle caress before he slants his lips against yours. It’s a surprise, but the shock dies as quickly as it forms as you melt into his touch—full lips that know your own and soft blonde locks brushing your face.

That affection that he pulls from you every day is given back in this moment—freely and without restraint—in the parking lot of Claire’s in Shibuya, where your daughter got her ears pierced for the first time.

When he pulls away and whispers his love for you against your lips, you repeat it back to him without thinking. It’s a motion that you both carry out whenever you can.

“No more piercings. My heart will probably give out.”

“Do you feel better?” you ask in a tone that is filled with the teasing nature that sticks to you like a second skin.

He loves it, but doesn’t take the bait, and instead kisses your lips again, each cheek, and the tip of your nose. “I will soon.” The innuendo is so obvious you can taste it. He’s been with you too long to be a blushing and awkward man. “Once Ulani is asleep.” You push him away with a giggling huff and savor the deep chuckle that falls from his lips, permeating the air of the car.

As Kento drives through the crowded streets towards your shared home in Nakameguro, the hand not on the steering wheel envelops yours, a thumb stroking the skin of your palm. You look out the window and observe the colors and cars that zoom by, and the sound of a deep breath behind you makes you look back. And when you do, your heart gives a painful but welcoming lurch as you gaze at her. Your daughter already asleep, her head dipping to the side—curly locks askew and sticking to the drool on her face, and her new diamond earrings shining back at you.

Thanks for reading!

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jarofstyles · 9 months

Text

Illicit- 4

Heyyyy my loves! Here is part 4 of Illicit and a better look into Harry's behavior without Y/N... not a nice man but he's OUR man <3

Check out our Patreon where we have exclusive writings and early access to the next 2/3 parts of Illicit!

Series Masterlist

Wc- 3.3k

warnings- asshole h, infidelity, slight violence, paparazzi

---------

Harry was reaching a boiling point.

Katherine had stolen him away from Y/N for the night, under the guise her father set as a business dinner. Said he had something to discuss with him at a new, up and coming restaurant that it was imperative that he came tonight. He had to peel himself away from Y/N who was curled on his couch with her laptop in her lap, doing a bit of clothing shopping while he leaned against her to help veto and approve on things she was on the fence about. He had been having a very good time being domestic this afternoon to be forced away was already pissing him the fuck off.

So to find a table clear of said man and just see his daughter there with a scheming beam on her face? It was the worst possible option. Of course, she assured him that her ‘daddy’ would be coming shortly, but by the time their entrees arrived, Harry was fairly certain of what was happening.

H: I need wine when I get home.

Y/N: Yeah.. someone sent me an article.

Harry’s stomach dropped when she sent the link, an article that must have only been published just a few moments ago. A photo of a preening Katherine across from him had been snuck. Thankfully his face was blank, ever so practiced. She was leaning across the table with a preen all over her face, the angle taken so you couldn’t see the third drink set out for her father who was mysteriously not there.

This had to be a set up. He wasn’t giving the image of the doting, in love boyfriend that Katherine wanted and she was obviously a bit more cunning than he had originally anticipated. He was beginning to piece things together again, and he was getting more furious by the minute.

The real anger stemmed from being taken away from one of the rarer nights he didn’t have work to check up on periodically, and he’d cleared it just for her. It was like she somehow knew how to piss him off out of some fucked up intuition. While Y/N had the owner's manual on how to make him happy, Katherine knew how to make him irrationally angry. Despite his asshole behavior he was still nice compared to the whole plethora of things he wanted to tell her.

He had no qualms about embarrassing her publicly. It’s where she had weakness. Her reputation.

H: I’m leaving in a moment. I have a theory about this. Brant Jr never showed up.

Y/N: Seriously????

H: Yes. What ice cream do you want me to pick up on my way home, my love?

Y/N: ……

Y/N: You’re good, H. Mint Choc pls <3

H: Anything for you. I’ll be home soon. Go get changed into something more comfortable.

Harry tucked his phone back in his pocket, turning to Katherine who had been watching him curiously. “So when are you going to admit you stole your father’s work phone and tricked me here?” He had waited until the waitress was in earshot. This was a story he wished would actually show up on TMZ. “Because I was having a very important evening and was torn away from people I had meticulously scheduled to come here and discuss ‘emergency business’ changes. I didn’t ask you to dinner because I didn’t have time for these silly things, and because I didn’t want to.” Harry tugged his wallet out. “You are childish. I knew that. But messing with important business shit because you’re trying to trick me into a dinner and planting one of your friends at another table to get some clicks for your weird fangirls living vicariously and extra money?” He pointed directly where he had found one of her friends, the redhead’s eyes widening as Harry caught her phone up and gave his stone cold glare. “My business isn’t a fucking game, Katherine. Wasting my time when I’m doing things because you’re throwing a childish tantrum because I can’t shower you in affection every hour of the day? What did we discuss last time?”

“Harry, darling, you’re being a bit loud-” Katherine chuckled nervously, eyes wide as she had been figured out. The waitress and tables close could clearly hear him. She hated negative attention and had been working at trying to market them as some sort of ‘it couple’, which wasn’t going to work for him anymore. He was growing tired of this scheme and really needed her to just end it so the contract could be over, null and void.

“I can be louder, if you want.” He said ruthlessly. “I can let all of your little friends know the image of our relationship you paint is a sham, that you try to make me out as someone who I never had been, and never will be for you. I am not in love with you, Katherine. I told you, if you wanted to date me that it would be on my terms. If that makes me an ‘asshole’” He sneered, “So be it. I’ve never lied about my stance in dating you. I let you prance around and use my name to get into clubs that your own last name is too irrelevant to get you into, I allow you to pose photographs of me though you know I despise it when you do, I allow you to use my yacht and I let you use my home in Los Angeles before I sold it to have one of those stupid influencer parties you love to post about although, I know you hate half of those girls.” He knew his voice was carrying, but he didn’t care. “You are the one hurting yourself by making this relationship out to be anything but it is. A means to an end.” For both of them, but she would know now just how onto her he’s been.

“I’ve let it go for a while. I’ve allowed you to do what made you feel better because if it kept you off of my back while I handled things on my own, I was fine.You even harassed my friends for the lake house keypad number, which is fucking pathetic.” it really was and Harry had been mad since then, but this was growing past a disrespect he was willing to accept. “ But you’re fucking with business now. I will not ever stand for it. If I say no, it means no. If I say not tonight, it means not tonight. If I say to stop calling, stop fucking calling me.” He let his voice seethe while his face remained mostly it’s usual cold sneer, throwing a few bills on the table. “Continue fucking with my business and see how that ends up. Your father could build up a company, and I can take it down just as fast.”

He stood up, righting his jacket as he watched her pale face, knowing he had just scared her. He didn’t care. Maybe there was something wrong with him, but he truly, to the bottom of his heart, didn’t care about her feelings. The one girl he cared about was waiting for her mint chocolate chip ice cream.

“Are- Are you threatening me?” She shriekd quietly, making Harry pause, calling their waitress all the way over.

“It’s not a threat, but a promise.” There was no questioning that he meant it. Looking towards the waitress, he handed her a generous tip and nodded, leaving the restaurant to find flashing cameras. One particular flash pissed him off, and catching Harry in a bad mood was not a good thing to do.

His hand shot out, grabbing the surely expensive to the man’s camera, and threw it forcefully onto the pavement. It shattered into little pieces, the lens crackling on the sidewalk and the plastic of the body falling into shards, his blank stare going from the broken beyond repair camera to the sputtering camera man. His face was tomato red while Harry’s jaw remained sharp and clenched, raising a brow in challenge.

“What the fuck! My fucking camera!” He bellowed. “I’m gonna sue the fuck out of you!”

Harry grabbed his business card out from his pocket, handing it to the man. “Reach out. It will be a pleasure to beat you in court.”

His car was in the lot, which he quickly got to and peeled out of the parking lot. He wasn’t even inside of the shop yet when he got a call from Y/N. Her contact photo brought a smile to his face, answering it as he briskly walked inside the automatic doors and grabbed a little basket.

“Hi, my love.” He murmured, making his way towards the back, knowing the exact brand she wanted from the freezer.

“Did you really break a camera?” Y/N squeaked into the phone. It made him laugh, not pausing in his expedition. She was still relatively new to his life and didn’t seem to google him like everyone else who met him. Even if it felt like she was meant to be with him forever, that their souls had always been familiar, she hadn’t seen much of that side of him yet.

“Yes.” He hummed. “Shoved it in my face, blinded me for a moment. I was already angry. The photographers know it's a risk when I’m involved, darling.” It was sort of his thing. If people got too close, hit him with it, intruded on his personal space, he was quick to rid himself of the problem. They were lucky he chose the camera and not the person behind it. Harry really didn’t care, and he knew some would label him as toxic or maybe even crazy, but it wasn’t something he cared about. His temper was notorious.

“Christ! H!” Y/N laughed in disbelief. “Hannah sent me an article. There’s a video circling social media. I haven’t watched it yet.”

“Good. Don’t, it’s a waste of time yeah? Told you I’m an open book for you, sweetheart. Can ask me any questions you’d like when I get back to you.” He tucked the phone between his shoulder and cheek, opening up the freezer door to grab their designated flavors. “Stay comfortable for me, I’m just about to check out and get home t’you. I’ll talk to you in a bit.” It was something Harry wished he could have happen every day. Going home to her. She was the centerpiece of his home now and her absence was palpable when he got home and she was at her own place or out and about.

They said their goodbyes and Harry found himself lost in his head as he used the self check out to pay for their sweets. He avoided most social interaction when he could because everyone always had a favor to ask him, a question, a dig. It was nice to be able to pay and avoid the pointless small talk with a cashier who usually didn’t give an actual shit, or someone who obviously gave far too much of one. His lone wolf lifestyle suited him just fine- but now Y/N fit into it. She wasn’t just anyone, her voice didn’t grate on his nerves, and he was in love with her. He figured adding another lone wolf to his life wouldn’t hurt- not when it was her.

—-

“Harry…” Y/N laughed, licking her spoon clean. “While I am most definitely proud of you for how quickly you can come up with comebacks and witty words, I’d prefer they not be needed at all.” Her smile faded, leaning further into him. The man had stripped himself of his suit and found his clothes after a quick shower, trying to rid himself of the disaster and waste of a night. Now he was going to be with the woman he had been looking forward to spending time with for the rest of the night.

“Unfortunately, s’part of the job.” His thumb rubbed over her shoulder as she leaned into the man, his neediness even more apparent when he’d plucked her up from her spot and sat down to settle her in his lap. “Paparazzi are, for some reason, something that still is a thing and they make a pretty penny on photos of me because I like to dodge them.” Harry was not the stereotype of a nepotism child. He did work for what was given to him but he was under no false pretenses. He knew that he was born into an almost impossible wealth, one that some of his peers had deluded themselves into thinking they could be anything. The so-called ‘self made’ millionaires as if they didn’t have billions to cushion their blow if they were to be shot down. He liked to hide away from the attention part of it the best he could, but sometimes appearing at things was a necessary evil.

“I know.” The angel in his lap grumbled. “I know it is but it still makes me irritated that you have to worry about it. That they’ve gotten so far in your face that you were even able to do that. It’s just rude and invading your privacy.” Her little pout did something to his formerly black, charred heart.

Y/N was his opposite in a good way. She was love and warmth and light and morals. Harry was cold, cruel, darkness. Iron compared to gold. If it were anyone else, he thinks he may be slightly annoyed by their cheerfulness, their optimism. Harry had seen a lot of the world and a lot of the bad sides of people, skeletons hidden in closets and the life of the elite. It was hard to be optimistic at times when he’d seen such hopelessness, but she managed to peel back some of the grimy layers in his dim outlook in life, his cynical snarks and soften the jagged edges just a bit. He wasn’t a changed man- no. He didn’t have rainbows out his ass, he wasn’t a warm being, but he held the new wick that was lit up in a dim glow when it came to her. He could be good to her. Thankfully Y/N wasn’t looking for more. She didn't want to change him.

“Oh, my love.” He sighed, his hand chilled from the ice cream coming up to her chin. “It’s alright. They’ll learn at some point. Besides… It isn’t a normal occurrence when I just go out, not normally. Katherine called them, I’m positive.” The mirth in his eyes returned at the reminder of the woman. “I’m going to call Brant tomorrow and let him know of the antics, but I’m going to threaten again. I don’t want to be under this contract anymore.” His voice quieted, looking at Y/N who dropped her eyes from his. His stomach twisted, knowing where her head went. “Hey, sweetness. Look at me.” He urged, trying to catch her eyes again. “You know that I’m looking for every way out, yeah? If I can’t use that, m’gonna move on to the next idea. It’s hard when I’m contract bound, but I’m going to make her break up with me.”

Honestly, he was surprised she hadn’t just from tonight. It had him suspicious of her. There was no way that her ego wasn’t bruised from his spiked tongue tonight. He’d made sure other people heard the verbal hits, made sure some of it would be sold to the same publication she was trying to make a few bucks off by planting her friends to take photos. There was a prayer in his mind that maybe that would move it on, make her give him up. Surely, she was someone’s dream trophy wife. Sure as fuck not his, but maybe someone else.

“I know. I just hate….” Y/N paused, giving her eyes back to him. “I hate that she makes you so miserable, but I’m glad that you hate her. I feel like an awful human being, but I just hate so much about her and It makes me feel like there’s something wrong with me.”

This was news to Harry, surprisingly enough to actually show on his face. She’d mentioned disliking Katherine before but to see her struggling with her hatred towards the woman who was trying to claim her boyfriend as hers in the public eye, it made him feel even more guilty. He didn’t want this for her, he didn’t want her upset- but he knew that it was his own fault.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Y/N.” He said seriously. “I know that hatred isn’t something that your pretty heart feels a lot so m’sure it does feel a bit off but I promise you, it’s worth hating.” There was a pause, thumb squeezing her jaw slightly and watching as it popped open from the little trick. “If I had to see you out with someone else… I’d be murderous. If another man said you were his, I’d enjoy knocking every tooth from his skull.” His jaw tightened. There was no way. Every time he thought about it it made him ache, so he knew that it must be similar to her. Though he couldn’t imagine Y/N’s gentle soul to be murderous, she at the very least must be angry.

“Cool it, cowboy.” Y/N crooned, watching as his brain was visibly showing his thoughts on his face. “No one is coming to get me. I’m all yours.” It was like she was soothing a dragon. To be fair, Harry was pretty sure that if it could, smoke would be coming from his ears or his nose. Y/N could read him very well but to be honest, he did little to hide his emotions from her anymore. His girl was just good at knowing him, and he appreciated every moment of it. He couldnt lie and say that her insistence of being his didn’t please him- it absolutely did.

Harry had quite a few morally gray qualities and one was his possessiveness. Words like that, telling him that she was all his, it made him hard. Settled him in a primal, animalistic way and he wasn’t going to stop it. Y/N had been clued into it, knowing the exact right thing to sway his mood a different way. Knowing that the woman curled up to him thought of herself as his, that she was fully belonging to him and would be proud to be his as soon as they could be in the limelight. Harry would be equally as happy with people knowing he belonged to her, and he had no shame in labeling himself as so- but Y/N was playing into his weaknesses.

“You are, aren’t you? And I’m yours.” His voice dropped an octave, moving his hand down a little bit to cup the side of her neck. “No matter what she tries to play to the public, no matter the image shes trying to sell, I belong to you, sweetheart. Heart and soul. It’s all yours.” No truer words had been spoken. Harry was an honest man, most of the time, but this wasn’t something he would lie about. He wouldn’t declare his heart as hers if it wasn’t. “My messy little girl.” He swiped away a bit of ice cream from the corner of her lip with his free hand, bringing it to his mouth to suck it away, keeping her eyes on his. Her ice cream was melting in the tub in her hand, and Harry had a better idea on what too with it now.

“Let’s not talk about her anymore, my angel.” He suggested, gently moving her closer to him. “Why don’t you let me have my sweets now, yeah? Taste them off of you?”

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thelov3lybookworm · 7 months

Note

I literally just sent a cassian request but this one popped in my head for Lucien. Lucien falling in love with a smokehound breeder from the autumn court. Introduced to each other by eris when he’s going to pick out yet another smokehound for his kennels. The litter that was just born has the smallest tiniest runt that lucien takes pity on and he keeps visiting the breeder to make sure it’s ok and he gets the dog AND the girl in the end bc OF COURSE he does. He deserves the world. 🥹

Better place-

Summary: Lucien wants to go out, Y/n knows a better place.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: i thought this would be longer, but it turned out like a drabble 🫠im so sorry 😭

•○🌑○•

Y/n smiled softly, her heart doing weird little backflips in her chest when Eris's brother grinned, his mismatched stare fixed on the little puppy, Berald, jumping around, chasing its own tail.

The male laughed when the puppy ran headfirst into his legs, bending to scratch behind the hound's ears.

He seemed so genuinely happy, Y/n considered telling him to take the pup home.

Y/n had first met Lucien two months ago, who had tagged along with the high lord of autumn when he came to get the strongest pup in the recent litter.

Eris, now high lord, had started adopting the strongest hound that was born every month, wanting to add more and more hounds to his army of canines now that his father was dead.

Lucien had apparently started visiting autumn court more frequently, having begun to rebuild a relationship with his very misunderstood brother. Eris, taking up any excuse for spending time with, arguably, his favourite brother, had decided it best to show Lucien the smokehound breeder he got his hounds from.

And now, Lucien had been visiting more recently, having taken a liking to the smallest pup in the litter. Also because he worried so much about the tiny thing.

Y/n had only had seen and cared for such weak pup maybe once or twice before, so when Berald was born, it was a surprise.

"He looks healthier than he did last week." Lucien mumbled, glancing up at Y/n with glittering eyes.

She smiled at him, wondering what the weird feeling that spread through her chest was, goosebumps rising under the sleeves of her dress under his intense stare. "Yes, he's been getting better."

Lucien grabbed the little pup from the ground, holding his wiggling body close to his chest as he stroked the top of Berald's head.

"Um... hey Y/n, can I have a word with you?"

Y/n blinked at the sudden seriousness in his voice. "Uh- yeah sure. What is it?"

His chest expanded with a deep breath, and Y/n could see the resolve hardening in his eyes.

"Have you tried the new restaurant that opened up a week ago down the street?"

Y/n stared at him for a moment. "Yes. I tried it the day after it opened."

Lucien visibly deflated, his eyes falling to Berald, who stared up at the redhead. Suddenly, his head jerked up, and with a lazy grin, he leaned close.

"Will you come with me to that restaurant? I've been wanting to go, but I don't want to go alone."

Y/n was dumbfounded, both at the invitation and his proximity and she was sure he could see her burning up.

"Yeah... yeah sure. But I know a better place-" Y/n smacked a hand over her lips, her eyes widening at her own boldness.

His grin widened. "Great. I will pick you up after sunset."

"Okay..."

Y/n could do nothing but watch and blush as he reached out, grabbing her hand gently and placing his lips on her knuckles, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

Then he straightened, turning to drop Berald back to the ground before walking away.

Y/n stared at his retreating back, then turned to stare at Berald, as if the pup could give her the answers she sought.

The only answer she got was that she was not going alone on the date tonight. Berald needed to come too.

•○🌑○•

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch

Lucien Vanserra Taglist: @mirandasidefics @fell-in-luvs

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abbyromanoff · 1 year

Text

SAFE NOW

PAIRINGS: Maria Hill x reader

WORD COUNT: 3538

WARNINGS: angst, fluff, smut, overstimulation, edging, masturbation, injuries, soft!Maria, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, daddy (M), praise, degradation, comfort, fingering, cunnilingus, think that’s all :)

This is for my wifey @sapphickorro 😘 I’ll be expecting a ring in return

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

“We need a medic as soon as we land, we’re now twenty minutes out!” Natasha yelled into the coms, her free hand pressing down on your open wound, her weight causing the blood that was pouring out of you rapidly to slow down. Your eyes were fluttering shut as your body grew tired and weak, but you knew you had to try.

“C’mon, Y/N, stay with me.” You were trying, but it took only two minutes before your body gave up, your eyelids closing over as your heartbeat slowed. It wasn’t gone, but it wasn’t at a safe rate either. Nat was freaking out, not only because of the fear of losing you but dealing with your girlfriend would be even worse than the grief. She’d kill her, and not many were able to have such a privilege when it came to the Black Widow.

The quinjet landed, at last, gusts of wind nearly knocking down the bystanders. The doctors and nurses stood within a good distance with the hospital bed ready to bring you to safety. Maria was there too, a cold and hard expression sporting her face. She was more so worried than mad, but she would never show anyone that vulnerability, only you had that prerogative.

When the entrance opened, they were met with you being held in Nat’s arms, your limp body only frightening the others. It was supposed to be an easy mission, with no great danger that the two of you would need to keep watch of. Of course, both of you kept your guard up in case that happened to be wrong, and it was.

Luckily and unluckily for Nat, you were the only one who had gotten injured in the pair, but that only made Maria’s hatred and indignation for the redhead rise. She was already preparing the speeches to tell the agent, but none would reduce the hidden sadness she held deep in her chest.

“You better have an explanation for this, Romanoff.” She muttered, following the women and few men who rushed you inside. She gulped fearfully, hiding her face from anyone who had visible eyesight. She didn’t show emotions, especially not fear. And especially not if it’s caused by someone with less power and authority than her. But the woman scared her and many others to death, even more so when you were the topic. She’d kill anyone for even looking at you the wrong way. To her, you were just a sweet little thing that she needed to protect at all costs.

“Are they going to be okay?” Maria’s jaw was clenched tightly as she spoke, her arms crossed over her chest as her hands balled into fists.

“Uh, y-yes, Ms. Hill, they’ll be alright. They’re going to need to receive stitches and will be supplied with multitudes of pain medication, but we were able to stop the bleeding and, thankfully, no arteries were hit.” The doctor stuttered out, it wasn’t every day that you were met with an angry woman who could and has killed many. She nodded and sent her appreciation to the brunette, turning to face Nat who held her hands on her hips.

“I am so sorry-”

“If something like this ever happens again I will not hesitate to kill you, got me?” She cut her off, obtaining a nod from the redhead. She wasn’t one to allow threats to come her way, but she felt as though she deserved this one.

Maria took a seat in the waiting room chair, running her hands through her hair as tears threatened to fall. She didn’t cry, she promised herself she never would. But the thought of losing you, the only person she ever truly loved and cared for, everything was just too much. She broke down in the empty hallway, not caring to see if others were nearby; she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything at that moment besides you. Were you going to make it? Sure you would, that’s what the doctors said. But what if you didn’t? What if your last time together was spent as a goodbye and your last breathing moment was spent saving others? What if she’d forget your comforting voice after you were gone? What if she lost all the small moments that brought her more joy than imaginable?

“Ms. Hill? You can now visit them if you’d like, they’re expected to wake in only a few hours.” She hadn’t even realized how long she had been out here, the clock ticking every second being the only reminder of time. She stood quickly, rushing past the open door and stopping in her tracks when she saw you. You were hooked up to multiple IVs and wore a nightgown that they had supplied you with. There was no passion on your face like usual, it was instead blank as you slept. She had never seen you so pale, it felt wrong. You were still beautiful in her eyes, you’d always be, but this wasn’t you.

You were in pain, and she disrelished in the knowledge that she wasn’t there to help you, she could only watch as you suffered. But she stayed, she continued to sit right next to you, your limp hand in her own, waiting for you to wake. She didn’t fall asleep despite her tiredness; she was exhausted but refused to miss the moment your eyes opened again.

“Mar?” She heard your frail voice, her head shooting up along with her body.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m here, I’m right here.” She wanted to bring you in for a hug and tell you how stupid you were, the IVs prevented that, however.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to protect Natasha.” She smiled at your confession, chuckling to herself as she wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“It’s alright, you just need to be a bit more careful next time, okay?” You tried to nod, only to feel a shooting pain in your head. You needed rest, so with a lingering kiss to your forehead, she let you fall back into a slumber as she joined, trying to find comfort in the hard chair.

It only took a few weeks before you were back to brand new, you still had your scar and Maria had to tend to it multiple times a day but other than that you were yourself again. You had already gotten strict discipline for your actions, she wasn’t pleased. You weren’t the only one though, Nat got one, Fury got one, and even the medics received their own version when they had slipped up one day by accidentally dropping your food during delivery.

“Does that hurt?” Maria asked when you hissed in pain, the alcohol pad doing no such healing but instead worsening your agony. You were forced to bite down on a cloth the first time after you screamed loud enough for someone to think you were being murdered.

“What do you think?” She glared up at you, and that instantly threw away your smirk. She sighed heavily while placing the bandaid on your skin along with the cooling gel. Surprisingly for a stab wound, it wasn’t that large of a gash.

“I already told you, Mar, I’m sorry. But how is it fair that you get to put your life on the line daily and the one time I do you’re mad at me?” You asked, growing frustrated with how she’s been treating you. It wasn’t fair, you worried about her constantly but you would never throw anger towards her for such acts, you knew what her job requirements were.

“I’m not mad at you, Y/N.” She noted, packing away the supplies and putting them in the cabinets below the sink. Her hands gripped the counter hard, her fingertips turning red.

“Really? Because it seems like it-” You were cut off by a groan in pain, clutching onto your waist as you nearly toppled over. Maria rushed to your side, holding you upright and being careful to not touch your wound.

“It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you.” You tried ushering out apologies, but the pain was too great.

“Don’t apologize, I’m not mad. Why don’t you sit for a while, okay?” She walked you to the edge of the bed now that you exited the bathroom, letting you sit and flinching at your cries of torment.

“Sit with me, please.” She nodded and took the spot next to you, holding your free hand in her own and kissing the back of it gently. She brushed the hair out of your face and wrapped the same arm around your back after, being careful where to rest her palm.

“Is this okay?” You shook your head yes and rested your head on her shoulder, letting out deepened breaths that came to a regular.

“I think it went away.” You mumbled, feeling the scorching pain dissolve slowly. It felt like an electric shock on your skin, but it eased away once you were able to rest your body once more. Maria smiled and rubbed your back soothingly, placing another peck on your head where she was able to catch the scent of your shampoo.

“I’m not mad at you, you know.” You moved your head so you’d be able to look at her, only to find her eyes not able to line up with yours.

“I’m mad at myself if anything. I should’ve been there, I should’ve done more, I don’t know. I just- I hate seeing you like this, it kills me to know you’re in pain and there’s nothing I can do to rid you of that.” She sniffled, lowering her gaze to her hand that fidgeted with her bouncing thigh. You listened, choosing not to interrupt her with your own thoughts and instead taking all of hers in.

“I don’t want to lose you, I can’t. When I saw you like that, and when I heard Nat calling for medics, I couldn’t think, I- I don’t know what happened to me.” She started, clasping her lips together in a fight to not shed a tear. “It’s like I can’t function without you, you’re the only person I ever truly loved, and I’m just scared I’ll lose you.” You cupped her cheek in your hand, pulling her face closer so she was directed towards you. Her lips turned upwards in a smile when seeing your own mimicking her, and you were able to taste the salty tears on them when you pulled her in for a kiss. You played with the baby hairs on the back of her neck as her tongue licked over your lips, asking for entry which you accepted.

“You’re so beautiful.” She said when pulling away, only for it to last a short time when she leaned back in. Her hand found placement on your thigh where she rubbed up and down in a soothing manner. It wasn’t long before you felt yourself pulling apart to remove one another's clothes. Your shirt had already been discarded when she had patched you up, and all Maria had to do was scrap your pants and you were left half naked in front of her, looking effortlessly perfect like always.

“I wanna see you.” You muttered, tugging on her loose shirt. She grinned and lifted it over her head, her abs flexing as she did so. You couldn’t stop your wandering hand that pressed onto the muscle, feeling her rock-hard skin that caused you to whimper.

“Like what you see?” She asked in a teasing tone, already knowing the answer. You bit your lip as you nodded, your hand quickly traveling down to the buttons on her pants. She chuckled at your antics, replacing your hand with her own and pulling them off of her body.

“Can I?” She had crawled back onto the bed, her fingertips playing with the band of your bra. They first pulled down the straps adorning your shoulders, then found their way to your clasp.

“Please.” You gave her your best look of faux innocence as she slowly removed your top, fiddling with your exposed breasts once they made their way to the surface.

“Lay down, baby, let me do all of the work.” She effortlessly removed your panties that held a wet spot in the middle, quickly attaching her lips to your clit. You sighed in satisfaction, running your fingers through her hair and giving a teasing pull. She moaned into you, causing your hips to buck up into her face.

“Yes, just like that- ah!” Her tongue toyed with your clit before finding your hole, dipping in and out and enjoying the reaction you blessed her with. She didn’t stop until you were on the edge, that release you’d been aching for nearly plunging until she pulled away and wiped her lips as if she was disgusted with your juices; you knew that was nothing but false.

“No, no, no-” You whined, being cut off by Maria’s shushing, a finger pressing against your lips as she did so.

“Shh, you don’t make the decisions here, see what happened last time you tried to be a big girl and think for yourself?” Her eyes trailed to your wound, the skin rising up and down as it copied your irregular breathing patterns. You followed them and gulped down your snarky remark, already fearing what else the woman might do.

“Let Daddy do the thinking for you tonight, angel.” She placed her thumb on your lips as you wrapped them around it, your tastebuds being hit with your sweet nectar. You smiled around her, knowing how much it drove her crazy.

“You gonna let me do that?” You nodded with a hum, tickling her skin and making her slowly remove herself from your mouth.

“Yeah? And you won’t make silly little choices that get you hurt?” You nodded once more.

“Only big girls can think for themselves, but you’re not one, are you?” This time a shake of your head was given.

“Mhm, that’s right. You’re already listening so well, such a good little baby.” Her hand came to your chest, pushing you down gently and giving you a small kiss before parting. She continued her pecks down your body, creating a trail before stopping in front of your needy cunt. Your clit was pulsating, your hips thrusting into nothing, and your slick coating your thighs.

“Such a needy thing, is this all for me?” She gave you a lustful gaze as her tongue explored you. You threw your head back as you tried clamping your legs shut, only for her grip to be too strong to do so.

“Yes, Daddy, all for you.” She hummed thoughtfully, sending a wave of pleasure through you. You reached down to try and pull her closer, but it hurt your waist too much to do so.

“Be careful, angel.” She was so engrossed with your flavor, she was an addict to your drug. Her hand traveled down to join her mouth, a single finger slipping inside of you with ease.

“Oh, God-” You gripped the sheets tightly when she drew herself out, only to thrust back in moments later. She was going too slow, and you didn’t even notice the way you’d chase into her for more. You tried making a rhythm, but it was sloppy.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking cute. I’m the luckiest woman alive.” She was hungry, practically starving, and you were the only person who could fuel her lust.

“Faster, please.” You struggled to get out, hoping she’d show some sort of mercy and give in. She did. A groan left her as you felt a second digit prodding at your hole, joining the other that was dripping from your pent-up stress.

“No matter how many times I fuck this precious pussy you’re still so damn tight.” She was grunting loudly, but the sounds of your juices deafened them. The walls weren’t soundproof, and for a moment you worried someone might be able to listen in unwillingly, but your thoughts escaped your head as soon as they entered and were replaced with her. Maria.

“You think you can take one more, sweetheart?” You shook your head, your body withering and thrashing about. She pouted and slowed her movements which resulted in a whine from deep in your chest.

“C’mon, I’ve been taking such good care of you, can’t you do this one thing for Daddy? It’ll make her so, so happy.” It was so tempting, and you were on the edge waiting for her permission to let go, there was no way out.

“O-okay.” There was clear hesitation in your voice, she could sense it from a mile away.

“Oh no, baby, I need to hear that you want it. Tell Daddy how badly you need her.”

“Please, Daddy, ple-please fuck me. I’m so wet for you.”

“Mm, I can tell.” She humored, laughing at your struggles against her. It took what felt like hours for her to finally let you off, a third finger slipping into your hole.

“I bet you feel so good around my cock, so warm and- tight!” She hushed out, forcing herself into a denied stage of release. She was soaked, almost more than you. She could feel her orgasm pending, but she was holding off for your sake.

“Aww, are you close?” She cooed when noticing the way you clung onto anything, biting your lip and eyes rolling back. She knew your body better than you did, she already knew you were near your breaking point. She wasn’t far behind either.

“Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, all yours.” She nodded along with each word spoken, smiling as your orgasm came rippling through you. All of your senses came to a halt as you blabbered out unspoken words, only feeling yourself shake more as she continued to fuck you through your high. She wasn’t easing you down, it was as if she was prepping you for more, which you soon learned was true.

“Don’t cry, I know you can take it.” It only took a few minutes of the same procedure for you to be brought back into your foregoing state. She had been watching carefully, picking up on your every move that she had memorized over the years.

And even when you thought it was enough, she didn’t stop. You wondered how she could last so long without pains spreading throughout her body, she was animalistic.

“No- it’s too…much.” You struggled to get out. It was a lie, you both could sense that. There was never too much with her, you’d continue for the rest of the night if it meant you had her by your side.

“Just one more, I want you to cum with me.” You didn’t notice the free hand that had been creating movements on her lower region. She was toying with her clit and thrusting into the feeling, she had been neglecting her own pleasure for the sake of yours.

“I can’t!”

“Yes you can, I know you can. You’ve been doing so well, don’t stop now.” You didn’t have time to prepare for the release that washed over you like a tsunami, your juices oozing out of you and dripping onto her digits.

“Oh, fuck! You look so good, baby, so perfect.” You both let out shared pornographic moans, her gaze staying on you as you refused to look anywhere but in her direction. You grabbed her cheek, holding her closely as you kissed with passion and love. She was drawing out your orgasm, her fingers slowing until they came to a halt.

“Fuck…that has to be a record or something.” She chuckled, wrapping her arms around your waist and pressing gentle pecks across your face, the action tickling your skin.

“I love your laugh so much, angel.” You smiled at the compliment, your cheeks being painted red and causing your girlfriend to share said reaction. It was peaceful, a comfortable silence falling upon you both that didn’t need to be filled.

“You know I love you, right?” Came her hushed whisper. You opened your eyes once again to see tears bristling her eyes and a small pout forming across her lips.

“I do, and the best part is I love you just as much.” Your arms went to loosely hang on her shoulders and met to play with her dark brown hair. You scratched her scalp in a soothing manner, your heart breaking and face softening as she couldn’t form her words for a moment.

“I’m sorry I freaked out on you, I was just scared.” You led her head onto the crook of your neck as she inhaled your scent, her tense muscles relaxing.

“I’m sorry too, I should’ve been more careful.” Even with your naked bodies that were glistened with sweat due to moments prior, there was nothing sexual about it, there was just love.

“Just- promise me you’ll be safe?” She held her pinky finger out, quirking her lips up in a sweet gesture. You crossed your own with hers, your voice booming while holding a low tone.

“I promise you that I’ll do all that I can to protect myself, but only if you do so as well.”

“Deal.”

#maria hill #maria hill angst #maria hill x reader smut #maria hill smut #maria hill x reader #maria hill fluff #maria hill x fem!reader #maria hill x you #maria hill imagine #maria hill marvel #maria smut #Maria x reader #maria hill secret invasion #maria hill x reader angst #Maria hill x reader fluff #natasha romanoff x platonic!reader

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dilatorywriting · 4 months

Text

Opposites

Vil Schoenheit x OC Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: What do you get when a cross a vampire and a vampire hunter? Arguments about color coordination, apparently.

[OC Archive]

🌶️ Obligatory Warning for Mild Sugggestive Content

Opposites attract they say.

Which Saya had never really understood, because the general population that fell into that ‘opposites’ category tended to drive her absolutely up a wall.

And then the universe had to go and spit in her face by sending her not one, but two very opposite precious people. Ro’s contrasting traits were obvious. Sweet to her spicy, soft to her sharp. Doting, and kind, and wide eyed. Vil’s shtick was a bit trickier, because at the core of them they were the same. Or at least, similar enough that the model had long since learned to pick apart every bit of her with the familiarity of someone staring into a mirror. But there were other things.

‘Did you remember to pick up the makeup kits I had sent to Sam’s for you?’

Saya sighed and rolled her eyes and typed out an irritated. ‘Yes. Of course.’

‘You should have had all this on hand already. It’s practically the basics.’

‘Okay.’

‘Don’t pull that tone with me.’

‘We’re messaging. There is no ‘tone.’’

‘Oh? Try that again then.’

For fucks’ sake. She knew he was stressing over the Halloween event, and ensuring that he and all of his little spudlings looked positively perfect for their role in it all. But still. She was half debating smearing mud across her face and showing up smelling like literal death just to give all his pissy fretting the middle finger. But at the same time, this was important to him. And ugh. Bleck. She was just going to have to tolerate his fussing. As usual.

‘Do you want me to wear the black or the grey boots?’ she sent back instead—an olive branch.

And immediately he was flooding her phone with all sorts of color scheme nonsense and rambles about the thematic importance of shading. Which. Fine. Better than the slippery slope she’d been heading towards by a long shot.

But, ahh. They really couldn’t be more different sometimes.

Saya had managed to wrangle her way into the complicated, custom-Schoenheit-designed ensemble and was halfway through lining her lash line with heavy, dark charcoal when she heard some incredibly unsubtle footsteps sneaking along down the hallway towards the bathroom. She watched a head of styled, red, curls bob in and out of the corner of the mirror. Then, a soft curse when he whacked his knee against the tile. She puckered her lips like Vil had taught her and ignored the creeping creature in the corner.

“Boo!” Ro chirped, hands curled into claws as he popped over the side of the counter.

Saya blinked past his head, unbothered and focused, and simply continued leaning close to the mirror to smudge heavy, black eyeshadow along her lids.

The redhead pouted and leaned forward on his tiptoes, the witch hat bobbing on his head as he stretched.

“Sai-chan. I said—”

She reached out, fast as a snake, and snatched his arm. And Ro shrieked.

“Boo,” she grinned, and he wailed in indignation.

“No fair!”

“Not my fault your scare game is weak,” she taunted. “Besides, who in their right mind would be afraid of you when look like the thumbnail off some teeny-bop lofi video?”

“That’s why I’m playing the victim!” Ro chirped, bouncing back as easily as he always did under her prodding. The layers of dark, plum skirts twirled at his knees above a set of garishly striped stockings. He looked far more Lolita Magical Girl than Creepy, Kooky Witch, but it fit him well enough either way. “I thought you were too, Saya-chan. But you look intense.”

She dabbed a bit at the raccoon-smears around her eyes.

“Different kinds of victims, I guess,” she shrugged. “You’re the cute one people feel bad for, I’m the one people see and go ‘oh shit, if he can get her, I’m doomed.’” It was proper Horror Movie logic, and Saya couldn’t fault the third years for coming up with such a devious little idea. Vil had been particularly proud of her new role when he’d presented it at their pitch meeting.

“S’too bad we don’t match anymore,” Ro hummed, propping himself up on the ledge of the counter to swing his feet. “Your new costume is cool too, though!”

It really was. It looked like something ripped right off a movie set. All aged, dusty leather and intricate straps tucked beneath a fitted overcoat that felt as expensive as it looked. And knowing who had procured it for her, Saya wouldn’t be too surprised if that was actually the case.

She snapped the little compact case closed and turned on Ro with a sharp smirk.

“Ready to go make some stupid influencers shit themselves?”

He nodded, a touch too enthusiastic. “I’ll see you later, Saya-chan! After we’ve wiped all of them out.”

“…not literally,” she reminded him with a pointed glare. “Make sure your dragon remembers that, yes?”

“Yes, yes. You’ve told me, Saya-chan. He won’t actually eat anyone. That’s what I’m for!”

“Right,” Saya nodded, wiping a bit of stray gold, dust off his collar and straightening out the pointed hat atop his head. “Let’s go ruin some magicam photos.”

They really couldn’t have looked more intentionally contrasting. Vil, with the sharp, crisp lines painted around his eyes and Saya all smudged soot and grime. A sweeping, purple and gold-embroidered ensemble next to a dark, muddied beige with no discernible shimmer to speak of. Pomp versus practical. Seductive, free-spirited elegance to militaristic formality. His hair curling loose at his collarbones and hers pinned into a tight bun to give the squibs more space to splatter.

“No way these guys are actual vampires,” one of the Magicam Monsters spluttered, taking a harried step back.

Which was Saya’s cue to step forward—silver cross at her throat and thick, woolen overcoat swirling at her knees.

“I see you’ve finally come out of hiding, beast,” she droned, lifting the prop blade from her belt to point at the space over his heart. She could hear the tourists around her chittering and whispering into their hands. If this was all part of the show. If this was real. If it was a joke. If it was— “To think you’d stoop so low as to use a place like this for your hunting grounds. I’ll strike you down where you stand.”

Vil swooped forward so suddenly it managed to genuinely startle her. And his hand snapped up to wrap around her wrist so tight it was nearly painful. The silver stake fell to the ground with a clatter and he dug his fingers into her hair—yanking her head back sharp and harsh so her neck was on full display. Saya hissed between her teeth and glared at him sourly, fighting the urge to snap out and remind him that this wasn’t real, and she would very much like to keep her limbs and dignity intact, thank you very much.

But then he was grinning down at her in a way that had her stomach dropping—his fangs peeking over his painted lips and eyes going lidded and dark. She heard one of the stupid influencers gasp and rattle out a panicked ‘should we do something?!’

“Oh, sweet thing,” he cooed, trailing a painted nail along her jawline. “I was never hiding.”

And then he leaned forward and bit her. Saya gasped and dug her fingers into his shoulders because ow! What the hell, man! He wasn’t supposed to actually—

The squib went off beneath her collar and thick, sticky, crimson blood began to seep its way down her neck and drip to the floor. Vil’s adam’s apple bobbed against her throat as he swallowed and Saya shivered.

The hoard of rabid influencers took off in a terrified frenzy—screaming, and shoving, and fighting their way out of the Mirror Chamber. Soon enough, the room was empty once more except for the two of them, and Saya lifted a hand to awkwardly pat against his back.

“You can—” she gulped when he shifted to bite at her collarbone. “You can stop now. They left.”

“Oh?” he hummed against her blood-splattered skin. “But what sort of Vampire Lord would I be if I didn’t make an example of the little hunter who thought herself clever enough to trap me?”

“Vil—”

“You wore the rosemary perfume.”

She blinked, thrown. “Of course I did. You said I needed to stay ‘on theme.’”

“But I didn’t tell you to,” he crooned, licking a long stripe up her throat and collecting the stray droplets of fake blood as he went. “You did that on your own.”

Saya frowned, determined to be stubbornly put out despite the fangs playing at her skin. “You said—”

“Sometimes I wonder exactly why it is I adore you so much,” he sighed, and she froze, like a deer in the headlights. Or like a poor, little human trapped between the teeth of a monster. “And then I remember that maybe we aren’t quite so different after all.”

He pulled back with a grin that was equal parts smug and soft. He reached up and rubbed at one of the red stains seeping into her skin.

“I’ll get you a cloth for that. We should get you cleaned up before the next group arrives.”

“…R-Right,” she spluttered. Of course. Yes. Cleaned up. Because that’s what this was all about. They were dawning the masks of a vampire and his hunter respectively. And they were in public.

“Oh. And, kitten?” he called over his shoulder from where he’d moved towards his stash of emergency stage makeup and costume maintenance supplies. “Do try to struggle a bit more next time, hmm? We need to make this believable.”

Absolutely intolerable. Nothing like her at all.And if Saya gasped like a victim put to the cross during their next little display—noisy and loud in all the ways that tended to make his pupils grow round and dark. If she wriggled against his grip just so to make sure she was provoking him just as much as he was for her, with perhaps the added advantage of the hidden swell of his draped cloak to shield her pressing knees. Well, that was certainly no business but her own.

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x OC #Vil Schoenheit x OC #Vil x OC #vil schoenheit #My Writing

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catscidr · 9 months

Note

hi helloooo hope ure doing great !! could i pls req childe who constantly flirts with a shy reader who gets super duper flustered by it ???? childe + opposites attract + mutual pining lives rent free in my head >3>

ur in luck bc i AM indeed doing great!! mostly bc i wrote this. like oh GOD i love him he's so boyfriend agshnfga writing this made me giggle and kick my legs. was actually tweaking. im so weak for him sometimes DAMMIT ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: fluff, modern/college au, idiot in love x idiot in love, crack if you squint? childe and reader r just silly. only slightly proofread because i was too excited (sue me) includes: fem!reader, childe wc: 1k

It’s not like you didn’t want to be here, stuck between two very rowdy students cheering for their friends, because you were in the bleachers for the same reason anyways; to cheer on your own friend! But you’d prefer doing it without the constant shouts coming from the other students.

Previously, Tartaglia had insisted (read: begged) that you come watch his soccer matches, even if some were just for practice. I play better when I know you’re in the stands, he said earlier before he left you to your own thoughts, walking away to change into his uniform. It had been maybe half an hour since then and yet you couldn’t shake the conversation from your head, not when he kept meeting your gaze from the soccer field, flashing you a bright smile as he ran for the ball.

Your relationship with the redhead was a confusing one. As one of the popular students, Tartaglia naturally always had his own group of (equally popular) friends around him but, recently, he’s been hanging out with you more often. Saying something along the lines of him needing to take after you to mellow out his loud personality in comparison to your introverted one. You’d argue that it wasn’t necessary, that his energy was one of the things that drew you to him ; and as much as he likes to come up with excuses to hang out with you without you bolting in the opposite direction, you know you’ll always fall for his boyish charm, no matter how shitty his excuse is.

The sudden sound of shouts pulls you from your thoughts, a surprised yelp leaving your lips. Focusing your attention back on the field you watch as your friend gets engulfed by a group hug, the team cheering loudly- seems like in your daydream he managed to score a goal. The two guys next to you were standing up, cheering for them enthusiastically.

Overwhelmed by the sheer energy radiating from them, you focus your attention back on Tartaglia. He meets your eyes, his smile widening even further if it were possible, and waves at you energetically. You wave back sheepishly, cheeks flushed.

✧✧✧

“I told you I play better when you’re watching!” Tartaglia says with a teasing grin, lightly pushing your shoulder. You make a noise of surprise, covering it up with a cough as you raise your fist up to your mouth to hide your bashful expression. Whether he noticed the way you stiffened at his touch or not, he does a good job not showing it. “Did a whole hat trick thanks to you. Well, the soccer equivalent of it at least...” he continues sheepishly, mindlessly fiddling with the strap of his bag slung over his shoulder.

“How does that even work, anyways? Usually, people feel more pressure when there’s a crowd watching them...” you argue quietly, matching his long strides as you walked together along campus to go back to the gym changing rooms. Most people that came to watch the match had already left, however you and Tartaglia had been stuck behind due to him getting stopped by friends and acquaintances. Which worked in your favor since you disliked dealing with large crowds.

“Eh, I don’t care about other people. All I care about is having your pretty eyes on me,” he says with a wink.

Your legs stop abruptly, a flush decorating your cheeks, gaze never leaving the floor as you try to get your heart to calm down. How can he say something like that so casually? Is he messing with you because he has ulterior motives or is he-

“Heyheyhey, you doing alright over there? I didn’t break you, did I?” You hear Tartaglia calling your name, waving his hand in front of your face with a lighthearted chuckle. Pulling yourself out of your frozen state, you look up at the playful expression your friend wore, cheeks puffing out as you find yourself lacking a comeback. He notices your sullen frown and places a hand on your head, ruffling your hair playfully.

“Oh come on, don’t sulk now!” the redhead whines, “that was tame. You and I both know I’m capable of saying much worse than that,” he declares confidently, deep blue eyes looking down at you with a playful grin. A grin that seemed to never leave his face, much to your displeasure- how were you supposed to pull yourself together when he looked like the human incarnation of the sun?

“Don’t,” you mumble quietly, picking up the pace with your head hanging low, physically unable to face him anymore. Sure, you didn’t have the biggest group of friends and went out less than most people, but you were convinced he was shamelessly flirting with you. Why else would he be so close to you, relentlessly teasing you like this? Oh god, what if he’s like this with everyone? Maybe this is how he jokes around with his friends... Wait, speaking of Tartaglia, where did he-

You bump into a hard surface. Opening your eyes, you’re met with a damp soccer tee, glistening muscles and freckled skin. Tilting your head up slowly, you’re met with your crush-friend-classmate-guy looking at you with raised brows and quirked up lips. He places one hand on his hip, observing your beet red face with glee.

“I didn’t even do anything this time, princess. Everything okay?” the redhead asks with an airy chuckle. Oh god, you thought. Wish I walked into a wall instead.

“Y-Yeah. Uh huh. Everything’s just peachy,” you respond with a thumbs up, the corners of your lips curling up into what you thought was a reassuring smile but seemed more like a nervous grimace to the soccer player. He didn’t buy your excuse. Instead of leaving it as it is, Tartaglia brings a hand up to his chin and looks up, dramatically faking a thought process.

“Hmm... I wonder what you could have been so distracted by? Was it my arms? My charms? Or was it-”

“Your body odor. You reek of sweat, go shower,” you squeak out, face burning as you scurry away from the source of your (delicious) torment, your heart running a marathon beneath your ribcage all the while Tartaglia laughs loudly in the hallway, speedwalking to catch up to you.

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup!#childe x reader #childe x you #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #childe x fem!reader #childe x afab reader #tartaglia x fem!reader #tartaglia x afab reader #linked the definition to what a hat trick is bc idk if everyone knows what that is sgfngnfs

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iris-of-bliss · 5 months

Text

𝕋𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝔸 𝕃𝕠𝕒𝕕 𝕆𝕗𝕗 [𝟙𝟠+]

Summary: Hwoarang deals with an irritating headache after his fight with Jin. Perhaps he could use a helping hand from you?

Pairing(s): Hwoarang/F!Reader

Warning(s): Smut, Foreplay, Teasing, Creampie, Fingering

Word Count: 1.5k

Hwoarang made his choice to match Jin for an upcoming tournament. This time, Kazama gained the upper hand through every round. They were at Yakushima with you and Xiaoyu watching over their every move. Although Hwoa has been a bit sloppy, you rooted for him regardless. Xiaoyu has done the same as Jin, who performed well on his part. It was a heated duel, just like last time. Both fighters still had a decent fight, showing off their skills and capabilities. After the match was over, you and Ling applauded them while approaching. The men pat down some of the dirt from their clothes. Hwoarang looked rather irritated, but your presence makes him feel a lot better.

“You did a good job today, boys!” you congratulated the fighters.

Xiaoyu followed, “Yeah, you two were great! So, we will meet up again next week, yes?”

Hwoarang sighed, “Sure, we gotta get back home. I’m starting to get a pounding headache.”

You and Ling exchange goodbyes as you follow your boyfriends. You could hear Ling catch up to Jin before bringing up a discussion about eating steamed buns. Hwoa was rubbing the back of his neck with his head hung low. It seems like he needed some rest. Maybe Jin went a little too rough? You place a hand on his back and question his state, “Are you feeling alright, babe? You don’t look too good.”

“Of course not. Must have caught a fever during the fight,” he insinuated, “Hop on so I can lay down when we get home.”

—

“Alright, Hwoarang. I’ve prepared an ice pack for you.”

Approaching the worn-out and shirtless Hwoarang, you place the pack against his forehead. He immediately grabs your hand to press the cooling bag against the aching pain. A relieved sigh slips from his mouth. His eyes open to see you while giving a small smirk.

“Hey, (Y/N),” he responds softly, “You got other ways to cure my headache besides a pack of ice?”

“Well, I can serve some soup if you want,” you came up with the best answer you could.

A chuckle emitted out of Hwoarang, “Oh, babydoll, I wasn’t talking about that kind of cure. I was wondering about the pleasurable variety.”

“Oh?”

Your eyes widen with a faded blush across your face. He swiftly grabs you by the wrist to get on top. You sit up facing Hwoa, his smirk widening more feverishly. He didn’t seem motivated to sleep. Just seeing you was enough for him. His hands trail over your hips before firmly squeezing them.

“H-Hwoarang?,” you hesitated, “What are you even scheming?”

“You know what this is, (Y/N). It’ll be worth it.”

You suddenly feel the redhead thrust his erection against your crotch. Gasping from the tease, you latch his wrists, still gripping your flesh as he continues to give a few more shots. He’s a quick thinker and knew about your weaknesses in bed before. It was impossible to hold back from keeping up with his rhythmic movements. Hwoa smirks and places the ice pack on the bed stand. He then pulls you down to hold you close while returning the favor. You can still smell his sweat from the match. Even when you convinced him to shower, he refused due to his headache. Without thinking, Hwoarang turns you over to the bed on your back, another surprised gasp escaping your lips. He now towers above you before leaning down your jaw to kiss. You already missed the dry rubbing between your thighs, so you end up doing the work yourself. The wet spot grew warmer as you wrapped your hands around his neck, the sweet sound of your moans teasing Hwoa’s ear. He groans against your skin and grabs your hips again, lifting them upward.

“You gonna be a good girl for me, baby?” the redhead whispers.

As you begin to feel your face heat up, you quickly nod, “Yes. Anything for you.”

He chuckles, “Now how about that?”

Hwoarang brings a hand between your thighs to rub your dampness. You allow him to keep you wet and close your legs around his working hand. You grab his face and share a hungry French kiss together. During the kiss, Hwoarang’s hand unzips your pants before sliding down further under your panties. It causes your voice to shiver at the touch. A pair of fingers gently tease your folds. They inch in to rub your walls before pulling away for your folds again. He loved listening to your frantic whimpers. Luckily for him, there was more to come.

Hwoa hums, “So, you’re ready to take me?”

“Please, do it!” you plead.

Hwoarang sighs and removes his pants to spring his erection out. He even lent a hand, taking off yours, too. Each cloth left your body as he slid them away. After the pieces of clothing were tossed aside, you immediately felt his cock rest over your entrance. He grinds into you all the while kissing your cheek. The stream of slickness coats underneath him as he kept going. You can even feel yourself getting hot from being close to your boyfriend.

“Heh, I feel big, don’t I?” he teases.

You were in the middle of mewling, so of course he didn’t need an answer when it was right there. He aligns himself and presses into your entrance, settling between your legs. The more you got filled up, the louder your cries became. Hwoa bites his lip after noticing how tight you were. From his perspective, this felt perfect.

“Better hold on tight, sweetheart.”

A few seconds after being completely filled, Hwoarang’s thrusting starts rough and hard. He claws at your shaking hips while exchanging kisses with you. Your breaths were already hot from the intensity. The kissing got sloppy due to your boyfriend’s wild pounding. As he did so, he smacked the side of your rear and gave you a gentle squeeze. Your fingers scratched into his shoulders, yet this did not lead him to flinch in the slightest. Both of you were overcome by the heat inside and out. Hwoarang lifted himself up as he kept up with his thrusts. Looking down at you, he grins at the exhausted state you are in. What a sight to see.

“Like what you see?” he teases.

Your words were struggling to piece themselves together, “Y-yeah. Please, more- oh!”

He emits a chuckle at your reply. You felt a knot form in your stomach. It was such a pleasing view, Hwoarang couldn’t resist while kneading your skin. It bothered him that you were still in your shirt, so he slowed down to pull that off as well. Leaving you in your bra was just enough. He bends down to kiss you, all the while sneaking his fingers under your bra, finding their way to your nipples. The redhead scratches your pebbled skin. You moan in his mouth, your body arching up to him. Though your eyes remain shut, you trail your hands to his hair to undo his bun. The rest of his red strands drape down in the process. Fuck, he looked so hot. You take a handful of his hair and comb through it. Your legs wrap around his torso for him to go deeper. Hwoarang pulls his hands away to embrace you. He groaned due to his hair being messed with.

Hwoa keeps fucking you harder, close into attempting to bottom you out. He breaks the kiss with a string of saliva falling off. Panting for air, he tries his best to speak, “Do I feel good? Huh?”

You were trying to catch your breath, “Y-Yes, so good…”

You move some of his strands to the back of his ear for a better view. He takes your wrist in order to place a kiss on your hand. The both of you embrace each other again, the session continuing on. Hwoarang starts kissing and biting your jaw, urging you to give him access to your neck. You grant his wish before he abuses your weak spot. He managed to earn plenty of moans, and they drove him wild. The tightening of your walls around his cock. He growls in your flesh like an animal, almost reaching his climax. After giving a rough hickey on your neck, he rests his forehead along yours to lock eyes. Breaths arose while you two were about to release. Your cunt flutters when you stare into his brown eyes. Everything about Hwoarang was perfect to you.

“Hwoarang, I love you! I-“

The sentence was cut off by the sudden finish, loud cries erupting from pure pleasure. Hwoa’s cum spurts out after you are quickly filled. He didn’t care much, though. Overfilling you would eventually satisfy him more. As you finally settle down, you kiss your boyfriend once more. The fatigued redhead pulls out and collapses on his stomach beside you. He brings you close by your torso, careless to move around any longer. You hold onto his arm before looking back at his smirking face.

“Thanks to you, my head isn’t pounding any more,” he chuckles at you.

You hummed, “If that’s the case, maybe we could try that method next time? Whenever it comes back, of course.”

“Heh, good girl.”

He plants a kiss on your head as you sigh yourself to sleep. From now on, Hwoarang has a favorite cure he can make use of next time. That sneaky tease he is.

#tekken #tekken hwoarang #hwoarang #hwoarang x reader #fanfic #blissfic #n/sfw

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bweeeb · 3 months

Text

JEALOUS

Part two

Theodore Nott x Y/n Millicent reader

Friends to lovers- ANGST

Summary: The morning after the damage has already been done is always the hardest to fix things between two best friends who feel more than friendship.

The feeling of discomfort was the second worst feeling for Y/n because the first was feeling strange in a place she used to feel good. And Y/n was almost certain that at that moment, the two feelings were very close to each other.

The morning after, the group skipped breakfast and went straight to lunch. One thing everyone at the table could agree on was that the Slytherin elite seemed very uncomfortable. Sitting on the opposite side of the table from Theodore, Y/n's leg bounced up and down. The image of waking up naked in Mattheo's bed, with Theodore coming out of the shower, remained vivid in her mind as a source of discomfort. It felt strange for both of them not to be sitting side by side, especially after a party, a time when they would typically look out for each other.

Y/n felt herself sink into the bench, and her appetite diminished immensely. Thus, she pushed her plate away and stood up, anguished.

— Where are you going? Pansy asked, attracting the attention of all her friends.

— I've lost my appetite.

— But where are you going? Daphne asked with concern, her expression resembling that of a child inquiring about their mother, prompting Y/n to offer a weak smile.

— I have things to study. See you later. Everyone agreed with a deadly silence that embarrassed the group but left the rest of the students curious.

— Is she okay? Draco asked Pansy, who showed him the middle finger and got up angrily.

— This is your fault

— I didn't know that….

Daphne sighed and rested her head on the table, feeling a migraine starting to creep in. In a sudden move, Theodore got up from the table not long after Pansy and left the Great Hall quickly.

— Teddy! Anastasia called out. — Teddy bear! Anastasia, who had risen from the Gryffindor table, called to Theodore. He turned to her, much as Y/n had upon entering the Great Hall.— I missed you... I thought we'd see each other later.

— I don't have time for this, Anastasia. Last night was a mistake. Theo gestured with his hands in front of her face, glancing back where Y/n had left as soon as the nickname he used for her in their third year allowed her to call him.

— Fuck.

— Teddy?

— Don't call me that.

Theodore said rudely, and Anastasia grimaced.

— Who do you think you're talking to?

— Apparently you, but I wish it weren't.

— Excuse me? The girl stopped in front of Nott, and he, impatiently, placed his hands on her shoulders, not caring if he caused a scene. He needed to get to Y/n and make it clear that what he had done was foolish

— Listen to me, I've fucked a lot of people here and you were just another one. It won't happen again because you're the girl who hurt my best friend, so stop. He growled in her face, and the innocent look faded from Anastasia's expression. She stomped away.

— Oh, Theodore, believe me, no one hurt her more than you did. — she rolled her eyes — She was dying for you to fuck her, that's why it was so fun for me. I could see in her eyes how desperate she was, she seemed like a desperate slut. The redhead smiled maliciously and slapped the boy's face. He snorted and left the Great Hall without worrying about the whispers. He needed to apologize to his girl.

Theodore run as fast as he could to catch up with Y/n, who was still walking slowly down the hallway.— Hey! He shouted and saw the girl shake her head.

— What about our Italian lessons ? — Theo sighed, hating that if he allowed it, tears would fall from his eyes, and those tears would make his father call him ridiculous — Dolcezza…

— I think I'm dead, Theodore, I can't. Y/n rolled her eyes as her voice faltered.

— Don't call me, Theodore, mi amore.

— What should I call you, Theodore? Y/n mocked the boy while trying not to cry.

— Y/n… don't be dramatic, mi amore.

— Dramatic? I'm not being dramatic, Theodore. — Y/n turned abruptly to look at the boy not as far away as she had imagined he would be — Then tell me, tell me what I should call you.

— You should call me... Y/n interrupted Theodore before he could finish his sentence and shook her head with the same whispered tone as his.

—No, I shouldn't. She swallowed hard and looked at him with sad eyes. It was almost inevitable for her to wonder if she was being too dramatic, but that thought soon passed when she remembered her psychology lessons emphasizing the need for time to think.

— Go back to the Great Hall. Her anger softened in her voice when she saw him approaching.

— You are mad at me. — I'm fine!

— You can't be mad at me for what you did too! Theodore frowned and shrugged eagerly.

— You slept with the only person who really hurt me, she killed my cat when he was the only thing that calmed me down because I was away from home. My parents didn't see me for four months. FOUR MONTHS because they believed Nino had a communicable disease and he had nothing and you know it because you heard me cry every night without stopping because I was feeling alone. Y/n clenched her jaw and walked towards the Italian with her finger pointed at his face, which was pushed away when he retorted.

— You fucked up with Mattheo, damn it! Y/n mocked Theodore's argument and rolled her eyes as she walked away again while he followed her frantically.

— Go fuck yourself.

— You slept with Mattheo in my bed! You woke up in MY bed with him by your side. Theo shouted as he stepped in front of the girl, preventing her from continuing her walk.

— And since when do you care about that, Theodore? You fucked every single girl in this fucking school and now when I slept with ONE person you're get mad? — a sob escaped from Millicent's lips as she wrinkled her nose uncomfortably — You can't do this. Her voice became quieter and more vulnerable. — It should have been you, but you decided to sleep with her on my birthday.

— You sat on him in a way that I thought... I thought. Theodore's voice had also lowered in tone, and he looked at her seriously for the first time since the beginning of the discussion.

— It was a damn truth or dare game, we always did stupid things and we both know it means nothing, you fool. If I knew it would hurt you, I wouldn't have done a damn thing… — she murmured — But apparently you don't think the same way.

She turned away again, but this time Theodore just stood there, looking at her back, disappearing down the hallway.

— I would never do anything to hurt you, Y/n. I love you.

Theo shouted from afar, afraid to see her leave. He didn't want her to go like this, but he didn't know how to fix that mess.

— I can't believe you, Theodore, you lied about the dress. About her being at the party and wanting her there, maybe I'm being dramatic, but I can't believe you love me rigth now.

_____

So dramatic, I love it😍

Requests are open, message me if you have any ideas💞

Read the last part here

#theodore nott angst #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo fluff #harry potter x reader #theodore nott imagine #lorenzo zurzolo #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle #theo nott x you

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bloomingflowersthings · 1 year

Note

Okay so here's my request!

Natasha was on a mission, and the guy she was fighting has mind control powers. Before the villain dies, he searches through Nats mind to see what she loves most, and ofc its R. He mind controls Nat to be unkind and mean to R for one full day. Nat is still herself inside, and is hearing herself say mean things and do mean things to R, and R is so confused and sad, and Nat feels so horrible and guilty. Maybe to make it sadder R is sick with a cold or something 😭 The next morning R is prepared for mean words but Nat apologizes over and over and explains. Insert fluffy happy ending 🤭 thanks for your time!

Sick of your attitude- part one

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x sick! reader

Author’s note:This ask spent sooo many time in my askbox!! As soon as I read this idea, I had the whole story planned in my head but I couldn’t get the words out :’) hope you like it!!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Dealing with Hydra facilities was never a easy task, but this mission had just been absurd. Natasha had to gather some intel from an abandoned laboratory, but she didn’t expect to encounter an enhanced scientist still working there. The man looked inoffensive, but he had mind controlling powers, so the widow had a really hard time fighting against him. She managed to defeat him, but before dying, he casted a mind controlling spell that would make the redhead be mean to the person who she loved the most for one full day. Unfortunately that person was you.

While piloting the quinjet, Natasha could only think about finally getting home, so she could see you.

ugh, she’s gonna be so needy…

Wait, what? no, she missed you and she wanted to cuddle you all day! where did this came from?

“I must be tired.” Nat mumbled to herself, trying to make sense of her thoughts.

Sighing to herself, she put the jet in autopilot, so she could maybe relax a little.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You could hear some persistent knocking on your door, however, your fever riddled body couldn’t move and your hazy state didn’t allow you to call for help.

Yesterday you woke up feeling weird, but you pushed through it, since Nat was the piles of paperwork wouldn’t get done by themselves.

That was a very poor decision, you ended up the day laying down on the couch with a raging fever. At least Wanda tried to help you the best that she could, given the fact that you had always been stubborn about showing weakness in front of people.

“Y/N? can I come in?” Wanda asked. She woke up with the news that Natasha was coming home today, so she went to your room to check on how you’re doing and to cheer you up with the good news.

“Hmm.” You whimpered, as much as you wanted to tell her to come in, your sore throat only allowed to weakly hum.

Hearing your quiet whimpers and loud thoughts, the witch entered the room.

It was dark, your curtains were drawn and the TV was the only source of light and background noise. You were right in the middle of the bed, buried under layers of blankets, but somehow still shivering. Your chest made a wheezing sound whenever you breathed and you just looked miserable.

“Poor thing, I came over to see if you were feeling any better but I already know the answer.” She cooed, sitting crisscrossed besides you on the bed.

“hheh'tsh! Hu’tshhiew!” You sneezed on the crook of your arm, coughing slightly afterwards. The action was enough for Wanda to notice how congested you sounded.

“I really don’t like the sound of that.” Wanda said, bringing her hand to your forehead, frowning at the heat emanating from you.

You just nodded, whimpering when chills came over you.

“Do you know who’s coming home today?” She asked, running her hands through your hair.

“Nat’s coming home?” You asked suddenly, the action sending you in a fit of coughs.

“Shh… breathe, yes she’s on her way back now. What about you take a shower so we can get some medicine on you? I can make you some breakfast.”

“Thank you so much Wands, but I really don’t want to be a bother, I’m fine, really” You said, trying to untangle yourself from the blankets.

“You could never be a bother silly, and you know how much I love to cook, now go ahead and I’ll wait for you in the kitchen.” Wanda said, making her way to the door.

You took your time getting out of bed and stretching your heavy limbs. It felt like you had been hit by Mjölnir

You took a warm shower, washing and untangling your hair. You wanted to look at least presentable for your girlfriend and were hoping that it would help you feel more refreshed.

Shivering as you got dressed, you cringed at yourself in the mirror. Sure, you were clean but the paleness was obvious on your skin and it made contrast with your flushed cheeks, there were bags under your eyes and you just looked sick.

You slipped one of Nat’s hoodies and made your way to the compound kitchen.

“Hey! are you feeling any better?” Wanda asked, fixing herself some coffee.

“Yep, breakfast is looking good! thank you Wands.” In reality you weren’t feeling better at all, but you didn’t wanted to make a big deal out of it, so you were trying to follow your routine normally.

“Don’t mention it!”

You both sat down in a comfortable silence and ate your breakfast. Until Wanda got up to train.

“Just take it easy, ok?”

“I will, thank you for everything.” You answered.

You decided to sit down on the couch and watch some netflix until Nat arrived.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Stepping out of the quinjet, Natasha was relieved to finally be home. However she didn’t failed to notice that you weren’t waiting for her.

As she entered the compound, Wanda greeted her.

“Welcome back Nat, are you ready for another mission?” She asked jokingly.

“Don’t even joke about it, I’m exhausted.” She chuckled.

“That’s fair, you deserve some rest.”

“Have you seen Y/N?”

“She’s in the living room, she’s not feeling well since yesterday.” Wanda said.

“Don’t pay any attention, it’s probably all just dramatics.” Natasha stated bluntly, mentally kicking herself. What was wrong with her?

Wanda looked shocked. He never saw the widow being cold towards you. Even when you two were fighting, she would still be kind to you. However she decided not to push it, she could feel Nat’s mind going loud and dense, however her thoughts were muffled, almost if they were blocked.

“Okay then… go to sleep Nat, you need it.” He said, giving her a side hug.

She was too perplexed to say anything, so she just made her way to the elevator.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Miss Y/N, Miss Romanoff just entered the compound, you asked me to alert you when she was back.” FRIDAY said, pulling you out of your light slumber.

You rushed to the door to greet her just as she entered the living room, and hugged her tightly.

“Hi love, I missed you” You said, not failing to notice that she wasn’t hugging you back. stepping out of her embrace, she looked coldly at you.

“You look like shit, Y/N.” Nat stated, walking towards the couch.

“Umm… yeah, that’s because I’m a little sick, but don’t worry, Wan-“

“Can you just shut up for a second? I just got home from a rough mission and you’re complaining about being sick.” She snapped, her heart aching with every insult she made towards you.

“Sorry, I know you’re tired Natty, I’m gonna be quiet.” You stammered, holding back tears.

Seeing how miserable you were made Natasha’s heart sink. You were sick and missing her and she was being a little bitch to you. But no matter how hard the widow tried, whenever she opened her mouth she’d say horrible things. So she decided to just sit with you in silence.

She tried to lay her head on your shoulder but you pulled away from her with a heartbroken look. “Don’t touch me.”

Nat went white at your request, realizing how much she was hurting you, she couldn’t understand what was going on. However, the anger that wasn’t her’s wanted to make itself known, and the redhead spoke up again:

“Do you really need to be a dramatic bitch? This is the last thing I want to be doing in my time and you know it.”

The look in your eyes turned from sadness to bitterness, prompting you to stand up for yourself.

“Look Nat, if I’m bothering you that much I guess I’ll just leave!” You managed to say before choking in a round of painful sounding coughs.

“Oh please, look at you! You can’t even take care of yourself! it’s ridiculous.”

You glared at her like you never did before while standing up:

“You know what, Romanoff? I don’t need you to nurse me, Im perfectly fine!! Actually, I was better when you weren’t home.”

You said as you exited the room, leaving Natasha heartbroken by her own attitudes.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You’d spent the rest of the afternoon in one of the compound’s guest bedrooms, mostly crying. You were all emotional and most definitely running a fever, you just wanted to run away from everything but the exhaustion in your body wouldn’t let you.

Suddenly, your thoughts were interrupted by FRIDAYS voice:

“Miss L/N, I must remind that you have a meeting in half an hour, however you seem to be in distress. Do you need any help?”

“No thanks, I’ll be alright.”

As much as you wanted to ditch the meeting, it had been scheduled a week ago, and you didn’t wanted Nat to think that you were being dramatic, so you dragged yourself out of bed to try and look presentable.

Of course crying gave you puffy eyes and aggravated the redness around your nose, and the flush on your fevered cheeks had darkened. Not having time (or energy) to put on makeup, you decided to just wash your face and quickly braiding your hair. You got changed in a T-shirt, a thick hoodie and some joggers, Hoping that it would end soon ao you could go back in your PJs.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You got to the meeting room right in time, but everyone was already there. The team noticed your lack of enthusiasm and decided not to push it, especially when you sat the farthest away from your girlfriend.

Natasha had a worried look on her face, you looked much worse than before and it was her fault. As much as she wanted to hold you and nurse you back to health, she knew that you were still hurt by her previous actions, so she gave you space.

As everybody settled down, Steve started the meeting. Everything was going fairly smoothly, just with some sneezes interrupting you, but your breath got caught in your throat, and it send you in an awful coughing fit. Wanda was sitting besides you and started rubbing your back, while the rest of the avengers glanced worryingly at you.

As much as Natasha tried to hold back her tongue, the words slipped out of her mouth:

“Would you stop it? I know you’re faking it.”

The conference room went silent and everyone looked shocked, until Steve sternly:

“Natasha, respect is essential if we’re working as a team. Tell Y/N you’re sorry or just leave the meeting.”

You went tense with the glare the redhead sent to you, even though she looked annoyed by the situation (in reality, she was annoyed with herself), there was an apologetic look in her eyes.

She wanted to apologize. But the mental block was too strong, so instead of risking saying anything else, she got up and left.

“M’ sorry guys…” You said, feeling bad for causing all of this.

“You don’t need to apologize for feeling unwell, but perhaps you should go to bed and sleep off this bug.” Steve said.

So you got up and made your way to the guest room, shivering the whole way there.

You grabbed more blankets and buried yourself under them, wanting to sleep your problems away.

#angst #whump #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #sickfic #natasha romanoff #sick reader

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