#♥Don't be afraid to ask!♥[ask]
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sweet 🍇anon who requested for luke if you see this! lmk if you want me to be making this romantic bc i've been making it ambiguous (could be read as romantic or platonic depending on any extra details the individual reader would like to add) and then i realized i could just try and ask you! so yeah lol i just don't want to assume anything bc your request could go either way and i could make this purely hurt/comfort or i can make it hurt/comfort but they are kinda in love with each other and there are actual details about that part lol <3 either one is very doable and very enjoyable for me but i wanted to double check with you before assuming one way or the other <333
#ofc your wants and opinions are most valued as the requester so don't be afraid to ask for whatever you like <3#and hopefully you won't have to wait to long for me to finish it !!#i made real progress tonight so that's nice#and adding romantic details would be easy peasy !!#wouldn't end in like a confession or that kind of thing since the focus is the hurt/comfort (mostly comfort lol)#it would just be implied that there is a romantic connection if that makes sense#and ambiguous there would be no implications but you could add them in your mind lololol#anyways welcome to exhibit one of i don't know how to be concise with my words#and i feel the need to explain anything and everything in unnecessary detail :)#. >> ria says shit !#. >> lukie pookie ♥︎ !
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SWEET ON THE TIP OF MY TONGUE- NR
ROMUGH’S KINKTOBER
october 19th — monsterfucking, tentacle (?) sex, stomach bulge
DAY TWELVE || kinktober masterlist || 2024.
pairing- natasha romanoff x venom!reader
cw- 18+!!; dom!top!venom!reader, sub!bottom!natasha. get ready for these tags, hornballs. venom!cock, oral (n & v rcv), blowjob, (r rcv), handjobS (v rcv), overstimulation, daddy kink, positionsss (standing mirror sex, against the wall sex, bent over the bed sex, doggay sex, yeehaw sex, sitting on face (venom's tongue...?) aaand that's it!), degradation if you squint, choking, double penetration, triple penetration?, tentacles??? ugh i'm so filthy idek if this is all?? oh anal. js lil penetration, couldn't help myself :p
wc- 12.433k of pure porn with no plot.
a/n- rushed the ending and the dp part, skipped the ughh creampie (kill me, i have the image in my mind. oh how i love my imagination <3), and preferred the way i wrote it in my mind but hey! words don't come as fast as natasha does. i'll leave it at this, might rework this in the future :)
synopsis- natasha comes home from a mission with a need to disconnect from herself. what better way than to fuck her dumb untill she passes out? (she asked for it, really.)
taglist?- @lost-mortemanghel ♥︎, @idkwhatever580, @elliecoochieeater, @left-and-right-up-and-down, @deadlesbianwitches, @lizziewitchy ❀ - comment or dm to be added :)
The front door creaked open, and Natasha stumbled in, her movements weary and unsteady. She looked like she had been through hell—tresses dishevelled, suit stained and rumpled, eyes bloodshot from days without sleep. She barely had the strength to close the door behind her before leaning against it, as though it were the only thing holding her up. Yet despite her exhaustion, her gaze was filled with a raw, burning need as it landed on you.
"Hey," she called, her voice a sultry whisper that echoed off the walls, almost pleading. The moment she spotted you, a wave of relief washed over her. She kicked off her boots, letting them fall carelessly to the floor as she crossed the room, her movements both frantic and graceful.
"Natalia," you greeted softly, watching her as she approached, drawn to you like a moth to flame. There was a hunger in her gaze, a desperation that tugged at your heart. She reached out, fingers grazing your arm, igniting a spark that sent warmth cascading through your body.
Venom stirred beneath your skin, eager to come out and play. You took her face in your hands, your touch gentle in contrast to the storm raging behind Natasha’s eyes.
"Long day?" you murmured, your thumb brushing over her flushed cheek. There was a tenderness in your voice, though it couldn’t quite hide the dark edge of anticipation laced within.
Natasha's body shivered at the contact, and her breath hitched as she tilted her head to rest against your palm. "Please," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of exhaustion and desperate longing. "I need you." Her grip tightened on your arms, as though afraid you might disappear. "Make me forget. Please, make me feel… something else," her voice now barely above a whisper, yet filled with urgency.
A deep rumble stirred within you, resonating like a growl in your chest as Venom's voice echoed in your mind, darker and hungrier than your own. Look at her... already pleading, he purred, a teasing edge coating every word. Let's see just how much more we can make her beg.
"Are you sure? You’re asking for something intense, ‘Tasha." you asked softly, even as Venom’s black tendrils began to curl out from beneath your skin, slipping across your shoulders and down your arms. They moved with a slow, deliberate grace, inching toward Natasha as though savouring the anticipation.
Natasha nodded, her pupils dilated with lust as she bit down on her lower lip. “Yes… I’m sure,” she breathed, the words almost coming out as a whimper. “I need this. I need you both.”
You shared a thought with Venom, your combined anticipation swelling into a singular, overwhelming force. The tendrils shot out, binding her wrists above her head and pulling her forward toward the bed, as if she were a marionette caught in your strings. Her combat suit was stripped away in one fluid motion, the fabric falling to the floor, leaving her naked and vulnerable. She gasped as the cool air licked at her skin, goosebumps forming in the wake of each tendril that caressed her.
You could feel Venom's delight as you dragged your fingers along the curve of her waist, savouring the way her muscles tensed beneath your touch. “Look at you,” you murmured, voice filled with a mix of adoration and amusement. “Already so desperate… so wet, and we’ve barely done anything.”
Her response was a trembling moan, her hips rolling forward as she sought contact, her need laid bare. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess—everything from the stress of her mission to the ache of exhaustion melted away, leaving only this singular, burning need. The feeling of Venom’s tendrils brushing against her inner thighs, her arms, her chest, teasing the sensitive skin, had her breath stuttering, her body trembling under the weight of the touches.
She bucked her hips, seeking more, but the touch remained light and taunting, making her whimper in frustration. “Please,” she gasped out, her voice cracked and rough. “I need more—”
You clicked your tongue, crouching beside her to brush a stray lock of hair from her flushed face. “Oh, sweet thing… you don’t get to call the shots at all tonight.” There was a wicked smile on your lips, a glint of mischief in your eyes. “You’re just a clueless little baby who needs to be taught what she really wants.”
Natasha’s breath hitched, and her gaze flickered with a mixture of gratitude and helpless desire. She pulled against the tendrils, her muscles straining as if trying to reclaim her composure, but Venom tightened his grip, keeping her bound and exposed. Each fluttering touch that danced over her folds and circled her clit left her thighs quivering and her stomach clenching with anticipation.
You took your time, letting Venom’s tendrils brush over Natasha’s skin with the kind of deliberate cruelty that made her squirm. Each one explored her body with teasing flicks and strokes, gliding across the curve of her breasts, tracing the dip of her navel, and swirling in maddening circles over her thighs. You could feel everything through Venom, the texture of her skin under the tendrils, the heat radiating from her core, and the way her body shivered with each fleeting touch. It was intoxicating—her arousal seemed to flood through you, feeding the connection between you, Venom, and her, until you could barely tell where your desire ended and hers began.
“Such a mess,” you breathed, lowering yourself between her legs. The tendrils spread her thighs wider, keeping her open, her slick folds glistening with need. You traced a line up the inside of her thigh with the tip of your tongue, tasting the sweat on her skin and feeling the way her muscles tensed, as if she were trying to pull you closer. Venom’s tendrils held her firmly, though, ensuring she couldn’t seek out more than you were willing to give. You looked up at her as you dragged your tongue through her folds, savouring the sharp cry that escaped her lips. The taste of her was electric, a jolt that coursed through you and stirred the tendrils to tighten possessively around her wrists.
Natasha’s hips jerked upward, desperate for more friction, but you pulled back, letting your breath ghost over her wetness instead. "Patience," you chided, your voice low and dripping with wicked amusement. "You said you needed to be ruined, baby... so we're going to take our time." You darted your tongue out, just barely grazing her clit, and watched as her whole body arched, the sound of her pleading whimper music to your ears. Her thighs trembled in their restraints, her skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat as you teased her with the barest flicks of your tongue.
You could feel her growing frustration like a mounting storm, a swirling mass of heat and desperation that radiated from where Venom's tendrils danced lightly over her folds. Each touch was feather-light, barely grazing her clit before pulling away, leaving her gasping for more. Her need was a palpable force, wrapping around you, pulling you in, but still, you resisted, drawing out her torment. “You’re so beautiful when you’re like this,” you murmured against her entrance, the vibration of your words making her gasp. “So needy… so wet, just for us.”
Her moans filled the room, a broken symphony of desperate pleas. "Please," she choked out, her voice thick with want. "I can't... I need more—please!" Her eyes were wide and glassy, her cheeks streaked with tears she hadn’t even realised she was shedding. She was lost in the overwhelming sensations, reduced to nothing but the raw, primal need to be filled, to be claimed completely.
You gave in—just a little—pressing your tongue flat against her clit and swirling in slow, lazy circles, applying enough pressure to have her hips bucking helplessly. You could feel her pulse racing through Venom’s tendrils, feel the way her body clenched and fluttered with every stroke, every tease. The pleasure rolled off her in waves, feeding back into you and Venom, a shared ecstasy that left you heady and aching to devour her, to ruin her completely.
For nearly an hour, you kept her there, on the precipice, bringing her to the edge only to pull her back. Your tongue and Venom’s tendrils worked in tandem, tormenting her sensitive clit while teasing her entrance, never quite pushing inside. She writhed and sobbed, her voice hoarse from pleading, her body trembling uncontrollably as she begged for release. “Please… fuck… please just make me cum… I’ll do anything…” Her voice broke into a desperate cry as you sucked her clit between your lips, letting your teeth graze her just enough to send a shiver up her spine.
You pulled back again, and Natasha let out a scream of pure frustration, her entire body trembling with need. Venom's possessive glee coursed through you as his tendrils tightened around her wrists and thighs, pinning her in place. You stood slowly, leaning in close to whisper, "You want to be fucked dumb, don't you? To forget everything and let us take care of you?"
“Please,” she begged, her voice barely more than a breath. “Please, I can’t take it anymore.”
You tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet your gaze, and leaned in close enough that your breath ghosted over her lips. “You’re not ready yet,” you whispered, the edge in your voice unmistakable. “But maybe... maybe V will consider your request.”
Natasha's chest rose and fell rapidly, her whole body trembling as she whispered, "V... please. If—If Daddy won’t do it, then you—" Her voice broke off into a desperate whimper. “Take over. Please, fuck me stupid.”
Venom's growl reverberated through the room, vibrating through your body as he fought for control over your mind. The tendrils coiled tighter around Natasha, spreading her open as he formed an average length, pulsing cock over your core, slick and ready. You could feel every twitch, every throb of the appendage as if it was part of you, the sensation sending a shudder down your spine.
Prepare her, Venom’s voice echoed in your mind, thick with command. Make her earn it.
You watched as Natasha’s eyes fluttered shut in surrender, a soft moan escaping her lips as the tip of the tip of your cock pressed against her entrance. Slowly, you pushed forward, the slick tendril slipping inside with a deep, deliberate stretch that made her toes curl. You could feel her walls squeezing around the cock, welcoming the intrusion even as they stretched slightly to accommodate it. But Venom wasn’t satisfied. With each gentle thrust, you felt the cock grow thicker, the girth and length expanding incrementally.
Natasha gasped, the shifts in size sending a shock of pleasure through her body. Her thoughts dissolved into raw sensation, the ache of being filled blending with the searing heat that spread through her core. Each time you slid deeper, the cock seemed to throb thicker, pushing against her walls with an insistent pressure that felt impossibly deep. It wasn’t long before Natasha’s desperate, high-pitched cries filled the room, echoing with each movement. Her hips rocked forward, seeking more, even as her body struggled to adjust to the cock that seemed to keep growing with each thrust.
Venom’s frustration seeped into you—she was taking him too easily, her body adapting too quickly. You could feel the swell of his irritation as he thickened the tendril again, adding more length with each stroke until the size was undeniable. The cock throbbed inside her, stretching her walls to their limit, and you watched with a twisted sense of amusement as Natasha’s gasps turned into frantic, choked cries.
“Do you feel it, Natasha?” you murmured, your voice thick with mock sympathy. “Feel how much bigger we’re getting inside you?”
She whimpered in response, her body quivering as she tried to take more, her legs shaking with the effort. But the cock continued to expand, her walls instinctively pushing until only half of it could fit inside her. You could see it in the way her stomach tightened, the way her thighs trembled uncontrollably—she was overwhelmed, struggling to take even that much.
With a low chuckle, you traced a finger along her cheek. “Oh, poor baby,” you cooed, your tone laced with condescension. “You really thought you could handle all of us, didn’t you?”
And then, just as abruptly, you pulled back, making her gasp as your now thick cock slid out of her with a wet, obscene sound, leaving her painfully empty. Natasha’s thighs quivered, a desperate whimper escaping her lips at the loss. Venom pulsed against your core, his frustration coiling inside you as he prepared to push even deeper next time, determined to stretch her to the very brink of what she could take—and perhaps, just a little more.
You smirked, letting your amusement show as you felt Venom's possessive hunger vibrating through you. "She’ll earn it," you whispered, smiling lustfully at Natasha, making sure both of them knew who was in control.
He rumbled with approval, his voice a low growl in your mind. Oh, she will… he agreed, his tone thick with anticipation. She’ll show us how much she craves this, how desperate she is to please us. You could feel the shared longing between you building, a heady mix of power and desire, as you met Natasha's hazy gaze.
With a silent command, Venom’s tendrils moved tightened around her wrists and waist, twisting into a firm, unyielding grip that guided her down onto her knees. Her breath hitched as she felt the cool floor beneath her, the sensation grounding her just enough to realise the depths of her own need. There was no escaping the sheer desperation that burned in her, an all-consuming ache that only you could satisfy.
Venom’s satisfaction hummed in the back of your mind, feeding off the sight of her flushed cheeks and trembling lips as you brought the thick, gooey cock to her mouth. "Let's try something else," you murmured, your voice laced with teasing command as you traced the black, glistening tip over her bottom lip. "You're going to help us get ready, aren’t you?"
Natasha’s gaze flickered up to meet yours, pupils blown wide with a mixture of submission and pure need. She parted her lips obediently, the tip sliding over her tongue as she tried to take him in. But the cock was thick, stretching her jaw as her lips wrapped around it, struggling to fit the girth in her mouth. She couldn’t even take half before it brushed the back of her throat, making her gag slightly.
“That’s right, take your time,” you said, your voice soft and teasing as your fingers tangled in her hair, guiding her movements. “You’re not used to this, are you? You can’t even fit everything in your mouth…”
Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, saliva pooling at the corners of her lips, her tongue pressed against the underside of the cock as she tried to coax it further. She moaned around your shaft, the vibrations travelling down the length, earning a pleased growl from both Venom and you. Her throat tightened, and her eyes watered with the effort, but she didn’t stop, her hands grasping at the base, trying to stroke the thick length that still hung outside her mouth.
Venom rumbled in approval, his voice echoing in your head with dark amusement. She’s struggling, he growled. Look how hard she’s trying to take it…
You tilt your head, gazing down at Natasha as she struggles to take more of the thick, black goo cock in her mouth. Her lips stretch around it, her jaw working hard to accommodate the size. But she’s so eager, so determined to please you, that even through the strain, she never once breaks eye contact, her once green, now almost black eyes locking onto yours, filled with submission and want.
“Do you need some help from Daddy, baby?” you ask, your voice low and teasing. The title feels natural on your tongue, the control in the room shifting in a way that feels deeply satisfying to you.
Natasha whimpers around the cock in her mouth, nodding as best she can, her hands clutching the base, her body trembling with need.
Venom hums in your mind, dark and pleased. So desperate. So eager. He’s already shifting, his tendrils tightening slightly around Natasha’s body, holding her wrists tighter together behind her back, keeping her in place.
You can’t help but smirk as Venom's voice rumbles from your mouth, slightly deeper and more commanding. “Alright, Natty. But if you want to take it all, you have to listen carefully, okay? We’ll help you, but you can’t waste a single drop of what we give you. Understand?”
Natasha looks up at your whitened eyes, her eyes shining with desire and obedience, her breath coming in short gasps as she nods, still sucking on the length down her throat.
You mentally communicate with Venom, confusion flickering through your mind. What are you planning?
Trust me, he replies, his tone dripping with confidence. It’ll be fun.
Vee lets out a low chuckle in your head, and before Natasha (or you, really) can process what’s happening, you feel a warmth spreading from the base of the cock. Venom has taken control of the black goo, releasing a slick, viscous substance that slides down the shaft and releases into Natasha’s throat. She chokes slightly, caught off guard, but you keep her in place, one hand on the back of her head, holding her close as you murmur soothing words.
“Shh, baby. It’s alright. Just swallow it all. You can do it.”
Natasha’s eyes widen as she gags, but she follows your instructions, swallowing the thick substance as best she can. Tears spill down her cheeks, her throat working hard to take everything, but she doesn’t pull away. She’s too far gone now, too deep into submission to stop.
You caress her cheek as she struggles, your fingers gentle despite the control you hold over her. “There you go, baby. Just like that. You’re doing so well.”
The substance coats her throat, sliding down into her stomach, and you can feel and see the effect it has on her almost immediately. Her body goes slack, her muscles loosening as her eyes glaze over further. She’s in deep now, her mind slipping further into subspace with each passing second. She looks up at you, her face streaked with tears, her lips parted slightly as she gasps for air around your shaft, but the look in her eyes is nothing short of worship.
Venom chuckles again, a dark rumble that vibrates through your core. Just a little aphrodisiac. It’ll wear off in a few minutes. She’s ready for now, isn’t she?
You freeze for a moment, concern flickering in your chest at the mention of an aphrodisiac. But then Natasha smiles at you, her expression dumb and blissful, completely in love with you. She’s so far gone, so desperate to be everything you want, that you can’t help but feel a surge of affection and possessiveness toward her.
“You’re so beautiful like this, ‘Tasha,” you murmur, your fingers stroking through her red hair, smoothing it away from her tear-streaked face.
Natasha hums around the cock, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as she basks in your praise. She looks like she’s floating, lost in the pleasure and submission you’re giving her. Her body trembles as she continues to suck, her lips working their way further down the shaft now, aided by the substance that has relaxed her throat.
You glance down at her, pride swelling in your chest as you see her take more and more of the cock into her mouth. She’s trying so hard, her determination clear in every movement, every strained breath. She gags once more, but this time she pushes through, her eyes closing tightly as she forces herself to take it all.
Venom, however, isn’t entirely satisfied. His tendrils curl tighter around her wrists, and two smaller ones slip from your body, unnoticed by Natasha as they slither toward her hands. Her fingers are trembling as she digs her nails in your thighs, trying to keep up with her mouth, but Venom has other plans.
She’s making you feel good, but she’s forgotten about me, he growls in your mind, and before you can respond, his smaller tendrils wrap around Natasha’s hands, guiding them away from your thighs and making them stroke his appendages.
“So dumb, so stupid. So fucked out, already.”
Natasha is so lost in the act of pleasing you that she barely notices his words and the fact that her hands had moved, her fingers instinctively wrapping around the slick tendrils. They tremble beneath her grip, warm and alive, and she automatically starts stroking them, her movements clumsy but eager. She doesn’t understand what’s happening, doesn’t realise she’s unknowingly preparing herself for what’s to come, but it doesn’t matter. All she wants is to please you both, to lose herself and forget about everything.
You groan softly, watching as Natasha easily deepthroats the cock now, her lips stretched wide around it, her throat working as she struggles to take everything you’re giving her. Some black goo drips down her chin, mixing with her saliva, and you can’t help but think she’s never looked more beautiful.
“Oh my… look at you, baby. You’re so pretty like that,” you murmur, your voice low and husky as your thumb strokes her cheek. “I guess you do deserve us, huh?”
Natasha’s eyes flutter, gazing up at you with such adoration and submission that it makes your heart ache. She hums around your cock, her body trembling as Venom’s tendrils pulse beneath her hands.
Venom, however, is far from done with her. Not yet. She’s good, but not good enough. She still needs more.
Natasha’s grip tightens on the tendrils, her fingers stroking them with more urgency now, unknowingly building up to what’s coming next. You can feel the shift, the anticipation in the air as Venom moves within you, preparing for what’s about to happen.
And you realise, deep down, that neither Natasha or you have any idea just how far you’re about to fall.
You tightened your grip on her hair, pulling her back just enough to look down at her tear-filled eyes, her lips still clinging to the tip of the cock. “You think you’re good for more?” you teased, the words a playful taunt as you let your cock slip from her lips, leaving her panting and messy. “Because V and Daddy both know you’re not even close to ready.”
The tendrils around her wrists tightened, pulling her back onto her knees, forcing her to look up at you as she licked her swollen lips. There was a fire in her gaze—a mixture of confusion, desperation, and surrender. Her chest heaved with each breath, and the ache between her legs only grew stronger, every denial winding her up tighter.
Venom’s voice rumbled in the room again, dark and teasing. Let’s see if you beg again, he said, his amusement unmistakable. Maybe then we’ll let you take more.
You gave her hair another sharp tug as you await her response, tilting her head back. “Well, Natalia?” you asked, voice dripping with condescension. “Are you going to beg for what you need? Or are you just going to keep struggling like a dumb little slut?”
Natasha's lips parted, and her voice came out as a breathy whisper. “Please…” she managed, her tone laced with need as she tried to catch her breath. “Please, I need it… I can take it, just—”
The cock pressed against her lips once more, cutting off her words. “Prove it,” you commanded, pushing her back down, letting her lips stretch around the thickness again. Her hands resumed their stroking of the other tendrils, unknowingly guiding her own fate as she struggled to take more of the cock into her mouth, making you realise that the aphrodisiac had indeed worn off incredibly quickly.
You’ll have to ask V about that.
With each thrust, Natasha’s mind clouded further with a haze of desperation and desire. The throbbing length slid over her tongue, and she could feel the tension in her body building. She fought to swallow the cock deeper, her throat constricting around it, but the stretch was nearly unbearable. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she felt new tears prick at the corners of her eyes.
“You’re doing so well,” you cooed, the praise dripped with honeyed condescension as you watched her efforts. “But look at you—so pretty and desperate for something you can’t quite handle without Daddy's help.”
Venom thrummed with dark satisfaction in your mind, his presence swelling with possessiveness. She wants it, though, desperately. Let’s give her what she needs.
You nodded, pulling Natasha off the cock again, forcing her to meet your gaze. “You want it, don’t you?” you teased, your fingers tightening in her hair. “You’re lucky V is being nice, ‘cause Daddy would’ve taken the ‘ruin me’ part more seriously.”
The moment you pulled her off, she gasped for air, her lips swollen and glistening, strands of saliva connecting her mouth to the thick cock. “Please,” she begged again, her voice cracking. “I need you… I need—I’ll do anything. Just–”
You smiled mischievously, letting her words hang in the air for a moment, a delicious tension building between you. “Anything, huh? That’s quite a promise, Natalia. But are you sure you can handle it?”
Her brow furrowed, and she nodded fervently, desperate to have her desires met. “I can take more! I can do it! Just make me forget, don’t worry about me—I need it… please…”
A shiver ran through your body at her words, the intensity of her desperation pulling at the primal within you. You released your grip on her hair slightly, giving her a moment to catch her breath, watching as her chest heaved with exertion, her beautiful breasts rising and falling in a tantalising rhythm.
“You want us, huh?” you said, the playful tone returning to your voice. “But you weren’t even able to fit us yet.” You glanced down at the two other tendrils, slick and ready. “Let’s see how well you can handle these, first.”
Natasha’s gaze flickered to the smaller pulsating tendrils in her hands, and her breath caught in her throat. The realisation of what you were asking hit her, and she hesitated, just for a moment. But the ache between her legs, the desperate need for release, drowned out any apprehension.
“Okay…,” she said, determination shining in her eyes as she began to stroke them with an unsteady rhythm, her eyes closing momentarily as she lost herself in the sensations.
“Good girl,” you praised, your voice a sultry whisper that sent a thrill of electricity down her spine. “Now, let’s see how far you can really go.”
With that, you pushed her back down onto the cock again, allowing it to slide past her lips and down her throat, inch by inch. Natasha gagged around the thickness, her body instinctively trying to pull back, but you held her firmly in place, forcing her to take more. Her eyes watered, but she didn’t stop; the pain was quickly swallowed by the pleasure.
You kept your hold on her hair as you let her stroke the tendrils, a rhythm forming between the two (three, really) of you—your thick cock plunging deep in her throat while her hands moved over the other two smaller appendages, preparing her for the overwhelming pleasure that was to come. Meanwhile, other tendrils continued to caress Natasha's body, sliding over her curves and teasing her sensitive skin. You could feel the heat radiating off her, the way her body responded to every movement and every command you gave.
“Now,” you said, your voice low and commanding, “I want you to suck it hard. Show Daddy how much you want it.”
With a whimper, Natasha complied, her lips working harder around the cock as she sank her mouth lower, taking as much as she could. Her tongue swirled around the base, and she felt the tendrils shift, eager for her attention.
You watched, entranced, as she struggled again but pressed on, her determination making her even more enticing. Each muffled moan that escaped her lips sent a shiver through you. You couldn’t help but tease her further. “Look at you—so lost in pleasure, and yet you’re still not enough. You still can’t fit everything.”
Natasha’s eyes rolled back slightly, the combination of your words and the sensation of the cock pushed her closer to the edge. With a shaky breath, she pulled her mouth away for a brief second. “I can take it… I just need a little more time…” she pleaded, desperation thick in her voice.
You shared your thoughts with Venom out loud, a smile playing on your lips. “What do you think, V?” you asked, your voice sweet. “Should we really give her a little more time?”
Venom responded with a low growl, the tendrils pulsing with anticipation as he pushed her back down, making her take the cock deeper once more.
No. Let’s show her what she can truly handle.
The two smaller tentacles, slick and smooth, slipped from her hands, tracing a tantalising path down her body. They teased her skin, gliding over her curves, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.
With a firm grip on the back of her head, you guided her deeper, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through you both. As you sank down onto your knees in front of her, you urged her further down with you until she was on all fours, the new position heightening the thrill in the air. Natasha’s eyes widened, sparkling with excitement as she realised exactly what was about to happen. A soft whine escaped her lips, muffled against you, as she instinctively began to bob her head up and down, eager to take you deeper.
You felt her excitement radiate through you, a mix of power and vulnerability that made your heart race. The tentacles, now fully in sync with your intentions, wrapped around her waist, holding her in place as they ventured lower, teasing and preparing for the intensity that was about to unfold.
Natasha's breath came in shallow gasps, her anticipation palpable as she pushed her body against the sensation, craving more. The combination of her eager submission and your steady control ignited a fire within you both.
The two smaller tentacles snake away from Natasha’s wrists, leaving shimmering trails of black across her skin as they glide down her body. Your hand remained at the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as you guided her down, pressing her lips tightly around your goo-coated shaft. Her eyes widened as recognition dawned, pupils blown wide with lust, and a desperate whine escaped her. The sounds she made were eager, needy, as she started to bob her head along your cock, taking you as deep as she could.
“That’s it, good girl,” you praised, your voice low and rough. “Daddy’s so proud of you… Look at how much you’re taking. You deserve all of it.” The words poured from you as much as they came from Venom, a shared intensity in your tone as you felt her mouth clench around you. “I’m going to make you forget all those bad thoughts,” you continued, your grip tightening at the nape of her neck. “Fill you up so good that there won’t be room for anything else.”
The smaller tentacles slid between her spread thighs, teasing along her dripping entrance. One finally slipped inside, gliding effortlessly into her heat, and her body responded instantly—clenching down around the intruder, drawing it deeper as if afraid it might leave her empty. Her back arched under the pressure, her fingers digging into the floor as she adjusted to the slick, writhing sensation within her.
But the second tentacle wasn’t far behind, nudging against the tight space already occupied, seeking to join its twin. You could feel the resistance it met, the way her walls struggled to accommodate the sudden intrusion. Natasha's body trembled, and the extra stretch sent a deep groan vibrating through your cock, the pleasure shared between you and Venom.
When the second tentacle finally breached her, it forced its way past the tightness with a slow but relentless push, stretching her open further than she thought possible. Her mouth faltered around your shaft as she struggled to keep sucking, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. The tentacles began to move in unison, curling and twisting inside her, filling her so completely that every thrust pushed her forward, sliding her lips along your length. She gagged when your cock hit the back of her throat again, and the slick sounds of her efforts mixed with the wet slaps echoing from behind her.
You loosened your grip, allowing her to pull back slightly and catch her breath. Her gasps were sharp, desperate, as she tried to fill her lungs. Her eyes looked up at you, glossed over, a mix of awe and raw desire painting her flushed face. You thumbed away a strand of hair clinging to her cheek, your touch unexpectedly tender. “Go on,” you murmured, stroking her jawline. “Breathe, Natalia. But don’t think you’re getting a break.”
Venom took over, surging into her at your words. The tentacles began to thrust faster, plunging deeper, and her back arched further, a string of moans spilling from her lips even as your cock brushed over her face, leaving trails of black goo and her own saliva and previous arousal across her skin. The force of each thrust sent her rocking forward, every plunge stretching her open and hitting spots that made her eyes roll back. It was as if there was no end to the depth they could reach, filling her so completely that her body shook with each motion.
You watched the way her tight heat gripped the tentacles, sucking them in greedily, her slickness coating the blackened limbs. Her body reacted instinctively, hips pushing back to meet each thrust even as her mind struggled to catch up. She was trembling with every breath, gasping your name between ragged moans.
“Cum whenever you need to, sweetheart,” you whispered, your voice a mix of tenderness and command. You wanted her to feel worshipped, adored—wanted, even if she craved to be fucked senseless. “Daddy’s going to take care of you, fill you up so good you won’t remember anything else.”
Your thumb found her mouth again, slipping between her parted lips as the tentacles continued to piston inside her, relentless and unyielding. Natasha’s tongue flicked against your skin as she sucked your thumb into her mouth, her lips closing around it like she’s desperate for something to ground herself with. She was so lost in the sensations coursing through her, the stretch, the fullness, the overwhelming feeling of being so completely dominated—and yet, utterly cherished.
Natasha’s body trembled uncontrollably as the tentacles relentlessly kept thrusting inside her. Her wetness coats the slick limbs, each deep, steady push forcing a gasp from her throat and a white ring to form at the base of the tendrils. The overwhelming fullness drove out every coherent thought, leaving only raw sensation behind. Her muscles tightened and quivered, caught between the pressure building within her and the need to feel even more.
Your grip in her hair tightened, urging her on. "You're so close, Natasha," you murmured, your voice a low growl of encouragement. "Show Daddy how good you can be. Let it all go."
The tentacles pulsed in unison, twisting slightly as they filled her. They pushed against those perfect spots deep inside, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. Her body reacted on instinct, hips rolling to meet each thrust, every movement driving her closer to the brink. Her breath hitched, catching in her throat as a keening scream escaped, her eyes squeezing shut as the intensity builds to a fever pitch.
The sensation was too much; the stretch, the heat, the rhythm—it all blended into one overwhelming wave. She could feel it in her core, a tightening coil that snaps when the tentacles thrust deep and hit just the right angle. Her climax crashed over her, sudden and all-consuming. Her inner muscles clamped down hard, squeezing the intruding limbs with each pulsating wave of her release. The gush of wetness that followed is undeniable, her essence coating her thighs and the tentacles in a hot rush.
You kept her there, suspended in the throes of her orgasm, as the tentacles maintained their deep, pulsing rhythm. “That’s it,” you murmured, voice laced with possessive praise. “Just like that… let it all out.” You watched her unravel, every tremor and clench of her body sending a surge of heat through you.
The tentacles eased their movements gradually, helping her through the last tremors, her body still quivering with aftershocks. When she finally collapsed against the floor, breathless and spent, you cradled her face, your thumb brushing over her cheek. Natasha’s eyes fluttered open, dazed and glassy, her expression a blend of bliss and exhaustion. A satisfied smile tugged at her lips, the glow of her climax still warming her flushed skin.
You leaned down, placing a tender kiss on her forehead. "You did so well," you whispered, pulling her up into your embrace.
Natasha’s body trembled as the tendrils lifted her off your lap, carefully setting her on her feet. She swayed for a moment, dizzy from pleasure and exhaustion, but Venom’s inky tendrils kept her steady. They caressed her skin with a possessive tenderness, wrapping around her waist, gliding along her curves, and teasing her sensitive breasts. One coiled around her neck, another resting lightly against the scars that marred her soft skin, tracing them like they were sacred. The tendrils moved as if to remind her that she was theirs, yours—marked and claimed.
You stood as well, watching the way Natasha’s eyes fluttered open, the glassy green orbs hazy with desire and fatigue. Her gaze met the reflection in the large mirror before them, the sight making her cheeks flush deeper. She could see it all—the way her body responded, the way she was wrapped in Venom’s hold, and the undeniable hunger in your eyes as you stood behind her and watched her unravel.
“Look at yourself, Naaliat,” you murmured, your voice a soothing command as you stepped closer behind her. You tilted her head up with a gentle touch, forcing her to meet her own gaze in the mirror. “See how beautiful you are… how perfect you look like this, taken and worshipped.”
A shudder ran through her body, and she bit down on her lip, a small sob escaping her. “Please… Плиз [please]—” Her voice was faint, exhausted but needy. “I need you inside me again… just—fill me up… make me forget everything.”
Your hands slid down her sides, settling on her hips. “You want me back inside you?” you whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to the back of her neck, right where your hand was already curling possessively. “Want Daddy to make you feel so full that you can’t think?”
She nodded, a choked moan escaping as she pressed back into you, desperate for the connection. “Yes… please, I want you… I need you… please.”
Without another word, you positioned yourself at her entrance, teasing her thoroughly soaked folds. She gasped softly as you pushed forward, sliding back inside her inch by inch. The sensation sent a deep tremor through her body, her core clenching tightly around you as she adjusted to the now more familiar stretch. The new angle allowed her to see it all in the mirror—how your cock filled her, how her stomach bulged slightly with each inch you gave her. She could see the way her body moulded to yours, taking you deeper and deeper until she could feel, could see you pressing against that spot inside that made her breath hitch.
Natasha’s eyes glazed over as she stared at her reflection, tears welling up from the overwhelming blend of pleasure and emotion. “Please,” she whimpered, her voice breaking. “Make me forget… fuck me until I pass out. I don’t want to feel anything else… just… только ты [just you]…”
Your grip on her tightened, one hand holding her hip as you slowly rocked into her, barely moving but enough to make her feel every inch. “Oh, my ‘Tasha,” you breathed, leaning closer to whisper against her ear, “I’ll make you forget, but you’ll stay with me, alright? I’ll decide when we stop.”
She nodded, a quiet sob slipping from her lips as she leaned back into your embrace, trusting you to take away everything she didn’t want to feel. The tendrils around her breasts squeezed gently, heightening the sensations as you held her close, not moving inside her but letting the pulsing thickness of Venom’s form keep her stretched and filled.
You began to trail kisses along the back of her neck, letting your teeth graze the sensitive skin. You marked her over and over, leaving love bites that bruised purple and red against her pale flesh. Your nails scraped lightly down her spine, leaving faint red lines in their wake, before gripping her hips again. The tendrils continued their worship, one slipping down to tease the bundle of nerves between her thighs, while another wrapped around her throat like a lover’s hand, possessive but gentle.
“You’re doing so good, Nat,” you murmured, your breath hot against her ear. “You deserve all of this… every kiss, every touch… every mark I leave on your skin.”
Natasha’s breathing came in short gasps, her chest heaving with every praise and caress. The tears that spilled from her eyes were born from the intensity of the sensations, the need to be loved and claimed in a way that erased everything else. She felt her body trembling, overwhelmed by the constant, unyielding fullness inside her and the way your voice wrapped around her, grounding her even as she slipped deeper into subspace.
“Y-you… you’re not stopping, right?” Her voice was a soft, broken whisper, and her eyes, half-lidded and dazed, gazed at your reflection in the mirror.
“No, baby,” you promised, brushing a thumb over the tears on her cheek. “We’re not stopping. You stay right here, with me… You won’t fall away unless I say you can.”
She let out a shuddering breath, nodding again as the sensations around her body became sharper, more vivid. Every touch from the tendrils and every kiss along her skin sent her closer to the edge. She clenched around you reflexively, as if trying to pull you even deeper, to fill every empty part of herself. You grinned against her shoulder, tightening your hold as you bit down on the tender spot where her neck met her shoulder, marking her one more time.
“Good girl,” you whispered, the praise flowing like velvet over her skin. “Keep holding on for me… let me love you like this… Let me show you just how much you mean to me.”
Natasha’s only response was a muffled sob as her head tilted back, giving herself completely to you and the sensations you brought. The tendrils, your body, the mirrored reflections—they surrounded her with the intimacy and connection she had craved. She didn’t need to think or remember; all she needed to do was feel.
Natasha’s body trembled, the constant pressure building to a peak as your praises and tender touches overwhelmed her. The tendrils caressing her breasts, teasing her nipples, and stroking her sensitive clit heightened the sensations until the tight coil in her core snapped. Her release came in a wave, rippling through her body as she cried out, her walls fluttering and tightening around you. She shuddered violently, her entire being consumed by the intensity of her orgasm. More tears slipped down her cheeks as she moaned, her legs trembling as Venom’s tendrils held her upright.
You murmured soothing words against her skin, your hands gently squeezing her hips to keep her grounded. The mirror reflected the raw beauty of her release—her tear-streaked face, parted lips, and the arch of her back as she rode the fading waves of pleasure. The sight only intensified your desire, a deep hunger simmering in your veins as you watched her come undone. But then Natasha’s breath hitched, and her voice, still laced with the echoes of her orgasm, came out in a whisper that was almost a plea.
“Please… fuck me harder,” she breathed, the desperation thick in her tone. “I want you to ruin me… ещё [more].”
The words shot through you like lightning, sparking something fierce and uncontrollable. Before you could fully process, Venom surged forward, momentarily taking over as your grip tightened possessively on her waist. You growled low in your throat, spinning Natasha around and slamming her back against the wall, the impact rough but cushioned by Venom’s tendrils. Her eyes flew open in shock, rolling back as you thrust into her with renewed force, your cock plunging deep inside her with a primal need.
“F-Fuck…” you cursed under your breath, the sight of Natasha’s blissful expression, her head thrown back and mouth open in a silent scream, sending a jolt of pleasure down your spine. For a moment, you let the darkness of Venom’s influence control your movements, feeling the raw power surge through your limbs as you pounded into her.
Natasha’s hands scrabbled for purchase on your shoulders, her legs wrapping around your waist as if to pull you closer. Her voice was hoarse and breathy, each cry and moan filled with desperation as her nails dug into your shoulders. “Yes…! Please—don’t stop!” she sobbed, her thighs trembling from the relentless pace. “I-I’m yours—только твой [only yours]!”
Her words pierced through the haze in your mind, and you fought to regain control, cursing Venom for taking over, but also silently thanking him for the sight before you. The primal lust in Natasha’s eyes, the way her body bowed toward you, desperate to take more—everything about the moment burned itself into your mind. With a growl, you pulled back, forcing yourself to slow just enough to catch her gaze, your hands gripping her hips so tightly that the outline of your fingers would surely bruise.
“You’re gonna scream Daddy’s name, huh?” you rasped, each word dripping with a dangerous blend of adoration and dominance. “Then look at me, Nat… I want to see those pretty eyes when I fuck you senseless.”
Her eyes fluttered open, half-lidded and glassy, but she held your gaze as you drove into her harder, setting a brutal rhythm that had her arching against the wall. Your mouth found her throat, teeth scraping against the delicate skin before you sank them in, leaving a fresh mark. You moved up the side of her neck, biting and kissing a trail to her jawline. The roughness of your movements only seemed to make Natasha hungrier for more; she tightened her legs around you, her nails raking down your back as she clung to you for dear life.
The tendrils continued their sensual assault, teasing her nipples, squeezing her breasts, and wrapping possessively around her neck. One of them dipped down to circle her clit, rubbing it in time with your thrusts, and Natasha’s entire body tensed, her cries growing louder with each rough snap of your hips. Her walls tightened around you, pulsing as she teetered on the edge once again, her body begging for that blissful oblivion.
You grinned against her skin, one hand coming up to grip her jaw, forcing her to look directly into your eyes. “That’s right, Nat,” you growled, your voice raw and ragged with desire. “I’m not stopping until you fall apart for me. You wanted this… remember?”
Her breath hitched, and she nodded frantically, tears welling in her eyes as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. “Yes—yes! Please… fuck… don’t stop…!”
You slammed into her harder, your grip on her tightening as you angled your thrusts to hit that spot inside her that made her see stars. Natasha’s body arched sharply, her nails digging deeper into your skin as she cried out your name, the sound echoing through the room. The mixture of pain and pleasure tore through her, a perfect storm of sensations that overwhelmed her senses.
“Good girl,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss the tears from her cheeks. “Let go for me… lose yourself. I’ve got you.”
Natasha’s sobs grew louder, her voice breaking as the overwhelming pleasure finally pushed her over the edge again. Her whole body clenched around you, her head falling back against the wall as she shattered, the intensity of her orgasm ripping through her like a tidal wave. You didn’t stop, driving her higher and higher, drawing out every last tremor of her release.
As she came down from the high, you eased your pace, finally allowing a hint of softness to return to your movements. You nuzzled against her neck, leaving one last bite at the nape as you whispered, “That’s my baby… We’ll always take care of you.”
Venom's voice, unusually soft and filled with affection, followed. "We love you, pretty Natty, more than anything."
Natasha’s breathing was ragged, her body limp in your arms as you held her up. The tendrils slowly withdrew, unwinding from her curves, but the possessive marks remained—a testament to the passion you had unleashed. You pulled back enough to meet her gaze, cupping her flushed face with both hands as you pressed your forehead to hers.
“Are you still with me?” you asked gently, your voice steady despite the fire still raging in your veins.
She nodded weakly, her eyes drifting closed as she leaned into your touch. “Always,” she whispered, her voice hoarse but full of trust. “I’m yours… only yours. But please—I need more…"
A wicked smile tugged at your lips as you heard the desperation in her voice, her request stoking the fire that raged within you. You guided her toward the bed, and as she bent over, you gave a subtle command to Venom, allowing the dark tendrils to bind her wrists together at the small of her back. The black, sinuous shapes tightened around her, arching her back as they held her in place, completely exposed and vulnerable to your every touch.
Tendrils caressed her skin like whispers—some coiled around her breasts, squeezing them possessively while another toyed with her nipples, rolling and pinching the hardened buds. Another traced the curve of her neck, slithering over the faint bruises you had left earlier. One even reached her lips, teasingly pressing against them as if daring her to open up and take it inside.
You stepped closer, your cock rubbing against the slick heat of her entrance. “You want more, ‘Tash-?” you growled, positioning yourself behind her. “You’re gonna get it.”
Without another word, you thrust into her, burying yourself deep with one powerful stroke. The angle had her pressing into the bed sharply, her back bowing as you filled her to the hilt. Her breath hitched, a strangled cry escaping her lips as the feeling of being stretched and claimed all over again surged through her.
You didn’t give her time to adjust, your hips slamming into her with a rough rhythm that had her crying out, each sound more desperate than the last. The tendrils gripping her wrists tightened their hold, and the ones caressing her body continued their sensual assault, squeezing her breasts, trailing along her sides, and occasionally brushing over her lips, reminding her that she was entirely at your mercy.
The wet slap of skin against skin filled the room as you pounded into her, each thrust harder than the last. You reached back with one hand, letting it come down in a sharp smack against her ass. The impact left a red mark on her skin, and Natasha’s cry of surprise was swallowed up by the tendril that pushed into her mouth, muffling her moans.
“Look at you,” you murmured, your voice rough with lust as you watched her reflection in the windows across the room. “Bent over like this… taking everything I give you. You’re perfect, ‘Tasha… so fucking beautiful when you’re falling apart.”
Natasha’s muffled moans grew more frantic, her body shaking with each hard thrust. She could feel the tendrils teasing her nipples, the sting of each spanking that left her skin raw and sensitive, and the thick cock relentlessly stretching her open. The sensations melded together, creating an overwhelming cocktail of pleasure and pain that left her mind spinning. Tears kept streaming down her cheeks as she cried out, her voice breaking around the tendril still at her lips.
“More… please…” she managed to gasp out as the tendril withdrew momentarily, her words breathy and ragged. “Don’t stop… mark m—make me yours.”
The darkness in your mind and gaze deepened, and a low growl rumbled from your throat as you tightened your grip on her hips, your nails digging into the flesh. “You’re already mine, baby, already ours,” you whispered, leaning down to bite into the curve of her shoulder, leaving another mark in the wake of your teeth. “But if you want us to claim every inch of you… then I’ll make sure you never forget.”
Your thrusts picked up speed, slamming into her with renewed vigour. Each harsh stroke sent her body rocking forward, her cries turning to breathless sobs as her vision blurred. The tendrils seemed to mirror your movements, tugging at her nipples and squeezing her throat just enough to add to the pressure building inside her.
Another smack came down on her ass, harder this time, and her whole body jolted. You could see the bruises already blossoming on her pale skin, evidence of your possessive touch. With every thrust, you pushed her closer to the edge, the delicious burn of overstimulation spreading through her limbs.
“You’re gonna come for me again,” you demanded, your voice low and rough. “You’re gonna scream my name and know who you belong to. Understand?”
Natasha could barely form words, her head nodding weakly as she struggled to keep herself grounded against the onslaught of sensations. The tendrils tightened their hold on her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge, until she could no longer hold back.
With a final, desperate cry, she shattered around you, her entire body convulsing as the orgasm tore through her. The tendrils held her in place, squeezing and caressing her trembling form as you drove into her even harder, drawing out every last tremor of her release.
You slowed your pace but didn’t stop, keeping your cock buried deep inside her as you leaned down to kiss the tears from her cheeks, nipping at the sensitive skin of her neck. The tendril at her lips retracted, and you heard her breathless voice whisper, "Daddy—Я только твой [I’m only yours]…"
Her submission stoked the embers of your desire, and you didn’t let her rest for long. You pulled back just enough to get a better angle, and as you slammed into her once more, she gasped sharply, her body jolting from the impact.
"Good girl," you growled, pulling back to deliver another sharp slap to her ass, the sound echoing in the room. "You’re gonna give me one more. And this time, you won’t pass out until I say so."
You moved Natasha up on the bed, your grip firm yet reassuring. As she leaned forward, she instinctively fell into position, getting on all fours. The tendrils wrapped around her waist and thighs, keeping her steady as she settled into place. You took a moment to appreciate the way her knees sank into the mattress, her back arching just right, presenting herself for you. It was a mix of vulnerability and trust, and you could feel the tension in the air, electric and alive.
The evidence of her previous orgasms glistened on her thighs, and her breaths came in ragged pants as she braced herself, desperate for more.
You wasted no time, gripping her hips with a bruising hold and spreading her legs wider. The slickness between her thighs coated your cock as you lined up and drove into her with a deep, punishing thrust. Her entire body jerked forward, her cry caught between a moan and a gasp, the stretch of being filled again making her walls tighten instinctively around you once more.
“Fuck, that’s it,” you growled, pulling out just enough to slam back into her, setting a brutal pace. “Look at you, princess… taking everything I give you.”
The tendril at her neck slithered up to cup her jaw, gently coaxing her head up to face the windows. She caught sight of herself—eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed, body trembling with every thrust—and the sight drove her further into the haze of subspace, where nothing existed except you, Venom, and the overwhelming need to be completely and utterly used.
Another hard slap echoed through the room as your palm connected with her ass, the stinging sensation spreading heat across her skin. “You want more?” you demanded, your hand coming down again in quick succession, each smack making her cry out harder. “Beg for it. Let me hear you say it.”
“Yes! More—please…” Her voice was breathless, ragged with desperation. “I need it… I need you to—oh god—fuck me until I can’t—”
The words broke off into a strangled moan as you drove into her even harder, your hips snapping forward with relentless force. Her entire body quaked with every thrust, her legs trembling violently as she struggled to stay upright. The tendrils at her wrists tightened, holding her in place as you reached forward and tangled a hand in her hair, pulling her head back sharply to whisper into her ear.
“Fight to stay awake, baby,” you growled, your voice low and rough, almost matching Venom’s. “You’re not passing out on us yet. I’m not done with you.”
Natasha whimpered at the command, her muscles burning from the effort to stay conscious. The pleasure was dizzying, almost unbearable, as your cock stretched her to the limit, the wet slap of skin against skin echoing in the room. Her vision blurred, her mind fogged with a potent mix of pain and ecstasy. But she forced herself to stay present, gasping for air, her entire body clenching around you in an attempt to stay grounded.
You leaned forward and bit down on the back of her neck, your teeth sinking into her skin with enough pressure to leave more prominent marks. “You love this, don’t you?” you murmured against her flushed skin. “Love being pushed past your limits… love being completely wrecked…”
“Yes—да [yes]!” Her voice was a broken sob as she nodded frantically. “I—please… just—”
Your hand cracked against her ass again, cutting off her words as another sharp sting spread across her skin. “Good girl,” you murmured, licking the spot where your teeth had left the new indentations. “Now stay awake… watch yourself.”
She fought to keep her eyes open, her reflection a blur of flushed skin, glistening sweat, and desperate need. Her body arched back to meet each thrust, wanting to be filled even deeper, to be utterly consumed. The tendrils kept caressing and teasing her, one slipping back between her lips to muffle her cries as the other continued its rough play on her breasts, pinching and squeezing in time with your thrusts.
Her walls tightened around you with every movement, her legs threatening to give out as pleasure washed over her in overwhelming waves. She could feel herself nearing the edge, the familiar tension building low in her belly. Her mind threatened to slip away again, to surrender completely to the consuming sensations.
But you didn’t let up, keeping your punishing rhythm, driving her closer and closer to that brink. “Stay with me, Natasha,” you commanded, your hand curling possessively around her throat as you continued pounding into her. “You don’t get to pass out until I say so… I want you aware of every second I’m inside you.”
Natasha whimpered around the tendril in her mouth, her entire body straining to obey. The pressure was building rapidly, her pulse hammering in her ears as she teetered on the edge of consciousness. With a final, deep thrust, you ground against her, letting the overwhelming sensation push her past her limit. Her body went rigid, a sharp cry escaping her as the powerful orgasm tore through her, her walls clenching around you with a desperate intensity.
You rode out her climax, the tendrils continuing to caress and tease her sensitised body, prolonging her pleasure. When her cries finally quieted to ragged gasps, you didn’t give her time to recover, pulling her up roughly by the hair once more.
“You’re not done yet, Nat,” you growled as you moved her onto the bed, adjusting her so she was positioned perfectly for what came next. “You said you wanted more…”
Natasha’s entire body shivered as you guided her onto your lap, her back pressed firmly against your chest. She was already trembling with exhaustion, her limbs struggling to support her weight as her hands weakly gripped your thighs. Her skin glistened with sweat, and her breathing was ragged as you traced a thumb over her drenched entrance, feeling the slickness there.
"Come on, sweetheart," you coaxed, your voice low in her ear, vibrating through her as you held her steady. "Don’t give up on me now. I want to see you take it… every inch."
The black tendrils coiled around her waist, lifting her up effortlessly before pulling her down again, impaling her on your thick cock in one swift motion. Natasha let out a sharp cry, her nails digging into your thighs as the overwhelming stretch filled her completely. The tendrils took over the rhythm, lifting her just enough before forcing her back down, forcing her to take you as deep as she could. You could feel how tightly she gripped you, as if her body couldn’t bear to be without you.
"Look at that… so stretched and stuffed full," you murmured, raking your nails down her back as you lay down against the sheets. The tendrils pulsed and twisted around her, one sneaking lower, slick and thin, teasing at the tight ring of muscle at her back entrance.
You watched intently the way Natasha’s breath hitched, her body tensing as the tendril pressed inward, slowly inching inside. It was small compared to your appendage, just enough to add an extra spark of sensation, but the way her muscles fluttered around it was intoxicating.
Her moans deepened, the new dual stretch drawing strained gasps from her as she tried to ground herself, her head falling back forward, chin against her sternum. “Tак…Tак полно [So… so full]” she whimpered, her strength fading as the sensations overwhelmed her. Her body trembled as the tendril moved inside her, curling and rubbing against the sensitive walls while you started thrusting up into her. The way her swollen core squeezed around you was mesmerising, her slick folds stretched wide as she struggled to accommodate the relentless depth.
“That’s it, baby. Feel how deep we are?” you murmured, your voice laced with a growl as you reached around to cup her breast, squeezing and rubbing the sensitive skin. “You’re taking it so well… I can feel you clenching down on me, like you don’t want to let go.”
Natasha’s response was a desperate whimper, her body shuddering against yours. The tendrils continued their merciless pace, lifting her up and forcing her back down onto your cock while the smaller one inside her ass squirmed, adding a deeper, more intense pressure. Her cries grew louder, more urgent, her mind slipping further as the pleasure burned through her.
The tendril inside her shifted, rubbing against her sensitive spots, while the ones around her waist guided her movements. Each time she sank down, the stretch and fullness grew even more overwhelming, and she was helpless to do anything but take it all. You watched as her body fluttered and tensed with each thrust, your grip tightening on her hips as you raked your nails down her back, leaving a fresh set of marks along her skin.
“Good girl… keep taking it,” you praised, rubbing slow circles over her swollen clit with your thumb. “I want to see you come for me again, princess.”
The touch on her clit and your words sent Natasha over the edge. Her body went rigid, then convulsed as her climax crashed through her, her walls pulsing around your cock while the smaller tendril continued to squirm and curl inside her. Her cries filled the room, her entire form tensing and trembling as she surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure, shuddering in your arms.
You kept her there, your cock buried deep inside her once more as you felt her body fluttering, the tight grip she had on you never easing, even as she came undone completely. The tendrils held her steady, ensuring she wouldn’t collapse from the intensity of it all, keeping her suspended in that place where pain and pleasure blurred together.
After the waves of pleasure began to subside, you cradled Natasha in your arms, her exhausted body melting into yours as the black tendrils continued to wrap around her, offering both comfort and a sense of belonging. Venom emerged from your shoulder, his serpentine form lolling out as he leaned in, his long tongue brushing against Natasha’s cheek. “You’re ours, pretty Natty,” he murmured, his voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down her spine.
Natasha closed her eyes, tears streaming silently down her face, overwhelmed by the echoes of the mission and the weight of her past. But each caress of your fingers through her hair and the tendrils wrapping her gently served as a reminder of the love you shared. The tenderness of the moment made her heart swell, even as the memories threatened to pull her under.
Venom licked her cheek again, a reassuring gesture as you finished re-braiding her hair, weaving the damp strands together with care. You brushed your thumb under her eyes, catching the stray tears. “Hey,” you said softly, your voice a soothing balm. “What’s wrong? Talk to us.”
She leaned into you, her brow furrowing as vulnerability etched across her features. “I… I want you to eat me out,” she admitted, her voice a mix of embarrassment and need, coloured with an undercurrent of urgency.
For a moment, you were taken aback, confusion clouding your thoughts. You blinked at her, processing her words, unsure if you had heard correctly. You had done this before, intimately and eagerly, so why was she so shy now? Her gaze darted away, the confidence in her expression faltering as she caught Venom’s gaze, the creature always so certain, so assertive.
“Please,” Natasha murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, glancing back at you. “I want you… to feel me… to taste me… with his tongue.” It took a moment for the realisation to sink in, a jolt of awareness hitting you like a wave.
You raised an eyebrow, completely taken aback. “Are you serious? Can you even handle more?” Your surprise was palpable, but there was an unmistakable thrill in her request.
Natasha met your gaze, a spark of defiance igniting in her submissive eyes. “You haven’t fucked me into oblivion yet. I’m still conscious,” she shot back, her lips tiredly curling into a teasing smile.
“Oh yeah? Because you just drooling all over yourself is very consciously done,” Venom quipped back, making a laugh bubble in your chest.
Her giggle was a soft sound that contrasted with the heat of the moment. “I’m still conscious NOW,” she replied, biting her lip as her mischievous nature shone through. “And I didn’t pass out… yet.”
With newfound determination, Natasha slipped into her Black Widow mindset and pushed you gently onto your back, her trembling limbs assisting her as she moved. “Now, let me take control,” she commanded, her eyes glimmering with a mix of lust and authority as she positioned herself above you, hovering teasingly close to your face.
You could hardly process the shift in dynamics, her confidence radiating as she slowly sank down. The heat of her body and the urgency of her movements sent a thrill through you, and you wasted no time, diving in to taste her completely.
“Oh, fuck,” she breathed, her voice thick with need. The way she grounded herself against you spoke of her desire to let go of everything else, to be consumed by the moment. You could feel her soft moans reverberate through your body, adding to the intoxicating rhythm of the experience.
As you lost yourself in her, the tendrils of Venom coiled around her, their touch both teasing and tantalising, making Natasha shiver with delight. They wrapped around her thighs and waist, pressing gently, enhancing the sensations coursing through her. Each flicker of movement from the tendrils elicited gasps from her lips, a testament to the pleasure you orchestrated as you held her steady, ensuring she felt the full depth of every moment.
Then, with an unspoken agreement, you surrendered your tongue to the symbiotic connection you shared. It was no longer just your mouth; it became Venom’s tongue—long, sinuous, and impossibly skilled—eager to explore and tease.
As Natasha ground down harder, her core enveloping your mouth completely, you felt the tendrils shift, supporting her as she settled into place. Venom’s tongue flicked and swirled, tracing patterns that sent waves of pleasure coursing through Natasha’s body. You revelled in the thrill of being both in control and utterly consumed by the moment.
“Боже, да [God, yes]!” she cried out, her back arching as her fingers found their way to the tendrils, clutching them tightly to keep herself steady. The sensation of Venom’s tongue exploring every inch of her sent her spiralling, her breaths coming in quick, desperate gasps as she surrendered to the waves of pleasure crashing over her.
Each flick and thrust of Venom’s tongue was purposeful, eliciting moans that filled the room and danced in the air. You could feel Natasha’s body trembling, the way her skin glistened under the low light, radiating heat as she lost herself in the experience. She was teetering on the brink, the tension building within her as you expertly navigated her desires.
“Don’t stop, please!” she begged, urgency lacing her words. The tendrils maintained their teasing grip, enhancing every sensation, every gasp and cry that escaped her lips. You could sense her nearing the edge, the sweet pressure coiling tighter and tighter.
“Let go for me, baby,” you murmured against her, feeling the way her body responded to your words, the connection deepening as you encouraged her to embrace the pleasure.
With each thrust of Venom’s tongue, you could see the way Natasha’s body reacted—her legs trembling, her core tightening, the bliss radiating through her as she surrendered to the moment.
As the waves of ecstasy crashed over her, Natasha let out a shuddering moan, her body quaking as her first orgasm washed over her. She clutched at the tendrils, holding on for dear life as the pleasure consumed her, threatening to pull her under. The sensations continued to roll through her, igniting every nerve, leaving her breathless and gasping for more.
But you didn’t stop; you pressed on, guided by the rhythm of her moans and the way her body responded to every flick of Venom’s tongue. Just as she began to come down from her high, you could feel her build again, the pressure mounting as you expertly teased her, driving her back toward the edge.
“О, Боже, не могу [Oh god, I can’t]!” she gasped, but the urgency in her voice was unmistakable. The tendrils tightened around her, grounding her as her body trembled, ready to release once more.
With one final thrust of Venom’s tongue, she erupted again, a second orgasm crashing through her with a force that left her breathless. She cried out, a beautiful sound of surrender and ecstasy, her grip on the tendrils tightening as she clung to them, desperate not to collapse onto the bed. The pleasure rippled through her, a wave of bliss that left her trembling and gasping, and you could feel the satisfaction in every quiver of her body as you continued to tease and taste, relishing the moment.
But then, as the last waves of ecstasy rolled through her, Natasha’s body went still. Her eyes fluttered, a soft sigh escaping her lips before she slumped forward, overwhelmed by the intensity of her pleasure.
A grin spread across your face, a mix of pride and affection swelling in your chest as you gently cradled her in your arms, ensuring she was comfortable. You carefully laid her down on the bed, the tendrils still holding her, keeping her safe and secure as you brushed a strand of hair from her face.
You couldn’t help but watch her serene expression, a smile playing at your lips as you took in the sight of her, knowing that you had shared something incredibly special.
Suddenly, with a swift movement, black tendrils shot out from your body, darting toward the bathroom. You watched amused as they splashed into the sink, soaking a cloth before rushing back to you. Venom’s form emerged from your shoulder, a sly grin spreading across his ‘face’ as he popped out, his tongue flicking playfully. “Made her pass out; I win!” he declared triumphantly.
You shook your head, unable to suppress a chuckle as you swatted him away gently. “Stupid parasite,” you muttered, but the words held no bite. With a soft laugh still bubbling in your chest, you returned your focus to Natasha, cradling her in your arms once more.
As you settled back into the bed, you could feel Venom enveloping you both, his presence warm and protective. It was a ritual you had come to cherish—a cocoon of safety that wrapped around you and Natasha, drawing you both into a soothing embrace. With her nestled against you and the gentle rhythm of Venom’s tendrils surrounding you, you slowly felt yourself drifting off to sleep, the world fading away into a blissful quiet.
#romugh's kt '24#romugh slays#romugh writes#natasha romanoff reader#natasha romanoff x reader#black widow#natasha romanoff smut#bottom natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff#scarlett johansson x reader#scarlett johansson reader#kinktober 2024#kinktober#wlw smut#venom symbiote#venom!reader
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BG3 Characters Safest Driver Headcanons
I've been thinking about that poll from months ago way too much, so I've pulled this from my drafts. In this essay, I will explain why Boo is the best driver. Astarion: Terrible. Absolutely terrible driver. He is doing his makeup with the visor down, looking at the mirror more than the road. Suspend your disbelief, he's driving in this universe. He can use mirrors. ♥ You have to grab the steering wheel, regularly. Without warning, the man twists around to find his purse in the back seat because he wants a different eyeliner than what he grabbed. You are on aux duty. He hates everything you've picked. 2/10, he lawyered his way into that license Gale: You would think he would be safe, but then you remember that Gale didn't pay attention in boring classes. And how hard could driving really be?? The man knows how to drive perfectly textbook. He also thinks he knows how to do it better than everyone else. He does not adapt well to poor drivers. The roads are full of poor drivers. He is yeling "Zipper!" at the merging traffic. You spend five minutes in the parking lot so he can find just the right song for the trip.
6/10, you will probably not die Halsin: The man drives slow, I'm sorry. He's fuel efficient as you can get with the windows down. He pulls over and stops traffic for ducks crossing the road, no matter what the current road conditions are. He stops to show you the new tree the neighbor got. He is a Yellowstone Park tourist. He wants to show you the world, one traffic-stopping mid-road parking job at a time. There is no music, we are listening to nature today. 4/10, you will be rear-ended with him and not the way most people want Jaheira: I stand by what I said last time: Jaheira reminds me of so many older women I know. She drives like she wants someone to start shit with her. She's so conditioned by having 5 kids fighting in the backseat at all times that every time she's behind the wheel she's having Vietnam-level flashbacks. Her blood is pumping in her ears. There is no road, there is only the red of her vision. She won't start the road rage incident directly, but by god, she will end it. (You tried to ask about music, but the look she gave you when asked killed the question.) 5/10, you make it to your destination intact. But at what cost? Your pants are a different color at the end of the trip than they were at the beginning. Karlach: Karlach is talking with her hands while she drives. She's fiddling with the radio constantly. You've blown four red lights. Three of them were the same red light because she took a wrong turn. She will not use GPS, she's got the vibe of where she's going. She was trying to show you something on her phone at the same time. It cannot wait. It was so good you have to see it right now. The tunes are so loud she hasn't heard the sirens behind her. 4/10, the tunes almost make up for it Lae'zel: You are helping her check her mirror distance before you get in the car. You are buckled in before the car even starts. You are not allowed to touch the light in the car if it is dark out. She was taught that it's illegal to have on at night and she takes that shit seriously. You are on blindspot-watching duty at all times. You're not allowed to have music on the in car, it is a distraction. 7/10, we are efficient, but we are miserable Minsc: Minsc cannot drive. Minsc was meant to drive today, but Minsc got into the wrong seat. We are all relieved. Jaheira trained him wrong on purpose and will kill you if you correct him. 0/10, don't even try. He will survive the accident, you will not. Minthara: Minthara, light of my life. She is gremlin cackling and riding bumpers the whole time. People are pulling off constantly to get away from her. You are white-knuckling in the passenger seat and are too afraid to let go of the bitch-bar. You pray her airbags are up to date because your life has not stopped flashing before your eyes since you got onto the road. We are exclusively listening to The Flight of the Valkyries. 7/10, it is shockingly efficient when no one else is on the road anymore
Shadowheart: I have been in many a 'Shadowhearts' car. The car is more of a problem than she is. She drives the type of car that makes people go, "You live like this?" She drives a manual. She was not trained to drive a manual. Almost every single dash light is on, the ones that aren't had their bulbs die out years ago. We don't know how old that trash is, but it lives here now. She has one of those cassette players that has to hook into your phone to come out the speakers. Good luck finding the right adaptor in the mess. 4/10, girl get your shit together Wyll: Wyll is the best driver, hands down...when he is alone. Like all things in his life, his greatest flaw is being too polite. He turns his whole fucking head to look at you when you talk because that is the polite thing to do. The road is secondary to how important your conversation and companionship are to him. And you can't not talk him! He's asking you genuine questions about your day because he's interested. You get to listen to whatever you want and he's totally down for it even if it's not normally his thing. He'll find something he likes about it. Alone: 100/10, he somehow makes everyone better drivers by just being on the road With you: 5/10, Wyll, please, look at the road. ;_;
Boo: My eyes are closed. It's better this way. We made it there in record time. I don't know how it happened. I don't need to know how it happened. ?/10, it's best if you don't think about it
#bg3#bg3 shitpost#shitpost headcanons#astarion#gale#bg3 gale#karlach#lae'zel#shadowheart#bg3 shadowheart#wyll#bg3 wyll#halsin#minthara#minsc#minsc and boo#boo#bg3 boo#jaheira
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Can i ask one for Kate Bishop. One where kate and reader's are best friends .they sleep together after being drunk. R is hopelessly in love with her. Everybody including kate knows this but it's like an un spoken thing.katie says doesn't see r like that because obviously she's afraid of losing the friendship if the relationship fails. Tells r that night was a one tym thing . After sometimes start seeing somebody so r will get the idea. So much angst ,heart breaks ,Kate being an idiot ,r being lovesick puppy .and a Happy ending .☺️ Its okay if you can't .Thank you ♥
an inch away from more than just friends [K.Bishop]
pairing: kate bishop x reader
summary: falling in love with your best friend is supposed to be easy. unfortunately, neither you nor kate are particularly good at talking about your feelings.
warnings: a complete mess of fluff, smut, angst, and idiots in love; kate is HORRIBLE at acknowledging her feelings; drunken hookup in a storage closet {lots of grinding + teasing; r is a brat and kate is annoyed but turned on; small bits of dirty talk}
wordcount: 4k
a/n: I'M ALIVE! sorry for not posting much on here, i've been spending a lot of this past month working on my vampire!kate story so inspiration has been quite limited. i'm thinking about posting more short drabbles but idk how to format them 😅 anyway, i hope you're all doing well and i hope you enjoy <3
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You weren't sure how you had ended up here. You hated parties. Especially ones thrown by rich people who had nothing better to do than spend a ridiculous amount of money on expensive booze and shitty food.
Not to mention, this particular party was being hosted in some skyscraper in downtown New York, which meant no matter how badly you wanted to escape the bustling atmosphere, there was nowhere else to go. Even the balconies that littered the outside were subject to the nonstop sounds of traffic.
At least it was better than being inside and having to sit through endless small talk about things you didn't understand.
A familiar voice pulls you out of your thoughts as you lean against the railing, silently watching the cars drive by on the street below you. "There you are."
You turn your head and give Kate a small smile. "Hey."
The archer approaches you, a certain bounce in her step that isn't coming from her normal bubbly personality.
While you weren't the biggest fan of these types of parties, Kate somehow thrived in them. Sure, she could be awkward most times, and she had a terrible habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, but she was charming. And as much as she hated the rich men who she had to rub elbows with all night, she understood them.
She'd grown up in this life while you...well, you were an outsider. Someone who didn't fit in, no matter how many expensive outfits the young CEO bought you or how many people she argued with.
The only thing you two could agree on was that the best part of these events was the free alcohol.
"How long have you been out here?" Kate asks as she joins you, her side pressing against yours and giving away how tipsy she already is.
"Like twenty minutes," you reply. "It was getting too stuffy in there."
She laughs and you allow yourself to admire her jawline and the way the city lights bounce across her skin. "Tell me about it. I swear I've had the same conversation with everyone."
"I don't know why you still bother coming to these things."
"It's good for the company, I guess," she says with a shrug. "And it gives me an excuse to get dressed up with you."
You roll your eyes at her, hating the way your heart instantly skips a beat at her words. She always gets extra flirty when she drinks. If you were more of an optimist, you might even believe her words had some sort of truth to them.
"You're an idiot."
She makes a face at you, her features a mixture of annoyance and amusement. "You always say that."
"Because it's true," you say.
"Whatever," she huffs.
The two of you stand there for a few minutes, basking in the closeness of your bodies. It's a small thing, but it's moments like these that remind you just how deep your feelings for the archer run.
The buzz from the alcohol in your system leads you to rest your head on her shoulder without a second thought. Her arm wraps around you in an instant and it's not until that moment that you realize how cold you are.
"Can we leave yet?" You ask in a soft voice. It's a little embarrassing how desperate you are to be away from the bustling party.
"Almost," she replies. "I think you owe me a dance."
You groan, already dreading the looks you'll definitely get. "Do we have to?"
"Yes, we do." She gives your side an affectionate squeeze before pulling away from you. "Just one dance, and then we can leave."
You know better than to trust her words, but you can't pretend dancing with her doesn't sound nice. Clearly, Kate isn't the only one with lowered inhibitions right now.
"Fine," you roll your eyes but reach out for her hand.
Her fingers interlock with yours, and she leads the way to the makeshift dance floor. Thankfully, most people seem too busy in their own conversations to pay attention to the dancing couples...and you and Kate.
It fills you with more bitterness than you'd like, but you try not to dwell on it. It's easier said than done...until her hands land on your waist and pull you close to her.
"You can come closer, sweetheart, I don't bite."
A nervous laugh escapes you. Mainly because you've listened to enough of her superhero stories to know for a fact she does bite, but also because getting closer to her is the last thing you should do right now.
She makes it far too easy to do, though, so you give in and wrap your arms around her neck.
The two of you start swaying to the soft music being played by the small group of musicians at the front of the room. It's hard not to spend the entire time admiring her features from this distance and as much as you try to ignore it, it's impossible to deny the way your heart flutters in your chest every time you make eye contact with her.
Your silence seems to surprise her, considering the way her eyebrows furrow together. "You okay?"
You nod and try to ignore how close your faces are. "Yeah, just...thinking."
That seems to get her attention and her concerned look turns into a slightly mischievous smile. "Oh yeah? About what?"
"Wouldn't you love to know?" You reply, hoping your attempt at teasing her will help distract her.
It doesn't work and instead of moving on, she wordlessly pulls you closer, her smile turning into a smirk when your eyes widen from the sudden proximity. "Come on, sweetheart, don't get shy on me now."
"You're annoying."
"Is that why you've been staring at my lips this whole time?"
Her words catch you off-guard, but they're not exactly far-fetched. The alcohol in your system mixed with having her so close only equals a long list of bad ideas. You can't deny how enticing those ideas sound, though.
You somehow manage to find your voice long enough to throw her observation back at her. "I think you're projecting, Katie."
"So you don't want to kiss me?"
She's toying with you, you know she is because you've seen her do it countless times, but you can't find it in yourself to really care. You know you shouldn't do it. You try to remind yourself that you're both drunk and simply trying to rile each other up for fun.
That no matter what happens, it won't mean anything. At least, not to her.
The longer you think about it, though, the less the potential consequences matter to you.
"I do," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "But only because it's the only way to shut you up."
You expect her to laugh at you and change the topic, but, of course, she doesn't. Because the only thing Kate loves more than annoying you is taking you by surprise.
In an instant, she closes the distance between your faces, her lips meeting yours in a borderline hesitant kiss. You're certain you've never seen her so nervous before. It's strange but endearing.
More than that, it helps distract you from how nervous you are.
She pulls away from you with a smile so bright that it makes your mind swim. "I guess you were right, kissing me does shut me up."
"Is that your way of trying to convince me to kiss you again?" You ask, doing your best to act nonchalant.
You're not sure that it works very well, but thankfully, she makes no teasing comments about it. She simply steals all your thoughts away by kissing you again.
The fact that you're one step away from fully making out in the middle of the dance floor isn't lost on you. Kate seems to come to the same realization as you at that moment and she reluctantly pulls away from you just to grab your hand and lead you away from everyone's gaze.
You don't know where exactly she's taking you, you just know it's definitely not toward the exit. You'd love to call her out on it and act upset and yet...you don't. How can you when your curiosity is practically eating you alive?
She drags you into the first storage closet she finds, closing the door behind you and pushing you against it. The action steals your breath away, along with the rest of your coherent thoughts.
You weren't going to act like you'd never fantasized about doing this with Kate but you'd always imagined it would happen under different circumstances. Although, if you're completely honest, you can't say you're actually mad about it.
"Hi," you whisper, your eyes drifting down to her lips once more.
"Hey." Her hands find their way back to your waist as she steps forward, effectively trapping you against the door. "Are you...still okay with this? 'Cause we can just leave and act like nothing happened."
You appreciate her thoughtful words even though the fire she started within you is burning far too bright to be put out now.
"Yeah, I'm okay," you assure her. "I don't think stopping is an option now."
Your words seem to make her hesitation disappear and her smirk instantly makes a comeback. "And why is that, darling?"
"You know why."
Kate leans in closer, one of her hands drifting down to grip your leg and lift it up until it's wrapped around her waist. "Maybe...but I want to hear you say it."
"In your dreams, sweetheart."
You feel incredibly proud of yourself until the archer pushes herself against you, creating the most wonderful friction against your center. The movement catches you off-guard and you let out an embarrassingly desperate moan at the feeling.
The brunette takes advantage of the moment and ducks down to attach her lips to your neck. "I would love to put you in your place but you are far too adorable like this."
Your head tilts back to give her more access to your skin as you struggle to put yourself together long enough to reply to her words. "I wouldn't describe this as adorable."
She chuckles against your skin, the feeling of her warm breath sending ripples of pleasure down your spine. You almost can't believe this is actually happening. For a second, you briefly wonder if you're simply dreaming.
There's no way the pressure of her body against yours isn't real, though. No way for the pleasure you're experiencing to be completely made up by you.
The hand still on your waist gives you a soft squeeze before she guides you against her. There's something slightly humiliating about grinding against her in some random, badly lit, storage closet that only adds to the intensity of the moment.
Kate seems to read your mind considering the way she moves against you, drawing out another barely supressed moan. "You're holding back, y/n/n."
Her teasing words only make you want to tease her right back. Just because you've wanted her like this for a long time doesn't mean you want to make things easy for her. Riling her up is always more fun anyway.
"Maybe you're just not as good as you think you are," you reply, hoping she won't call you out for grinding against her so desperately.
She has no plan to make things easy on you, though, and as annoying as it is, it's also incredibly attractive. "That's not what your body is saying."
"How can you be such a dork at a time like this?"
"It's my talent."
"Keep telling yourself that."
She groans, out of annoyance rather than pleasure, but you know your slight defiance is a turn on for her. It's almost funny how someone so bratty gets such a rush out of putting other brats in their place. "I hope you know your attitude is going to cost you later."
"Don't threaten me with a good time, Katie."
Her hand finally makes its way up your thigh, and she cups your heated core in one quick move. "How am I the annoying one?"
You let out a sharp gasp, your hips rocking against her hand with zero shame or hesitation. You're already so close to falling apart, the coil in your stomach embarrassingly close to snapping already. In your defense, it's been a long time since your last hookup.
"Not so mouthy now, are you, sweetheart?" Her amusement is more than clear and, even though you'd love nothing more than to wipe the smirk off her face, you're a little preoccupied with the mounting pleasure.
"Kate..." You whimper, attempting to pull her impossibly closer to you. "Fuck."
Her teasing energy is quickly replaced by satisfaction. Satisfaction that motivates her to speed up her movements, effectively replacing all your thoughts with the feeling of her hands on you.
"You gonna cum for me, baby?" She asks, her lips trailing a path from your neck to your jaw.
"Yeah," you reply, your voice a breathless, needy, whisper. "...please."
"Such a good girl. Go on, let me hear you fall apart for me."
Her words are exactly what you need to let go. It's a little embarrassing, and the lack of full contact makes it a little less satisfying than you'd like, but your orgasm crashes into you almost instantly. Your hands grip onto her shoulders as you ride out the waves, her soft whispers guiding you through the overwhelming sensations.
You're shaking and panting and absolutely spent after such a rush of emotions and Kate is right there, holding you close through it all. Somehow, the affection and care she's showing you feels even better than the orgasm you just had.
"You okay, baby?" She asks as she leans back just enough so your eyes can meet again.
You nod, still too shaken to find your voice.
"You're too cute."
Despite your breathlessness, she gives you a quick kiss, pouring far too many feelings neither of you want to think about right now into it. The alcohol must be draining from your system because you're already starting to freak out about this.
About how difficult it'll be to act like nothing happened. Like you're not completely in love with your best friend.
There's no way for you to deny it now. Hell, Kate herself can't deny it anymore either.
And yet you both try.
"Do you want to go back to my apartment?" She asks once you're able to pull away from each other.
The intention is behind her words is more than clear and it somehow manages to bring your confidence back. "Only if you let me repay the favor."
"I think we can definitely work something out," she replies with a genuine smile.
That's all you need to take her hand and drag her out of the storage closet. Her laugh rings out in your ears as you make your way to the exit.
True to your word, you spend the rest of the night returning the favor and drawing orgasm after orgasm out of Kate. It's not enough to make you believe you'll be together the way you want to and yet it's more than enough for ythe moment.
It's more than you ever thought you'd get from her.
Unfortunately, morning comes too quickly and it brings the realization that you severely underestimated how much things would change. How quick Kate would be to sweep everything under the rug and deny it even happened.
It hurts but it's not a complete surprise considering the way the archer reacts to most things.
You manage to work through it, silencing your desires in favor of making her comfortable and keeping her in your life. It's not the healthiest thing in the world but you manage.
Your friendship only suffers for a few days before you're back to normal. No one would even notice anything if it weren't for the major heart eyes you throw her way all the time.
Everyone knows, though. Everyone cares except Kate.
Instead of talking about it like a normal person, she decides to make things worse by getting a girlfriend. You don't even know who she is and the archer doesn't give you any real details, she just mumbles something about a coffee shop and a cute dog.
You've never known Kate to be particularly reserved but she is this time. Not just that, she actively ignores you. Dodging your questions expertly and pretending there's nothing weird about how little time she spends with you.
You had always assumed it would be your feelings that ruined your friendship but Kate managed to ruin everything on her own. It's almost a skill.
Somehow, even as your heart breaks and endless questions swim around your mind, you manage to keep going. More than that, you match Kate's energy and pretend you don't even notice the change in her attitude. You're not sure who's more hurt by that but you don't even care.
You treasure the brief moments you get with her and mentally shout at her every time she cancels another movie night. Her excuses are endless. One day, she tells you she's too busy with Avengers work, the next she's too caught up with Bishop Securities.
The only thing that brings you some sense of comfort is the fact you're not the only one being lied to. Her so-called "girlfriend" gets the same excuses as you, at least that's what Yelena tells you. The Russian has no reason to lie, though, so you believe her and ignore the rising thought of making Kate jealous.
That's the only thing you're able to do: ignore Kate and the feelings you still have for her.
It works for a while...until the archer finds her way back to you.
It's the middle of the night when you hear frantic knocking on your door. You suppress your fear long enough to make it to the door, baseball bat in hand.
You open the door and come face to face with those same blue eyes you've tried not to think about for over a month. "Kate?"
"Hey," she mumbles, nervousness instantly creeping into her voice. "I, um...can I come in?"
You're tempted to say no and slam the door in her face. You're honestly half-way to doing it when you notice the way she's swaying and clutching her side."You're not drunk, are you?" You question.
Your attempt to lighten the mood falls flat but she smiles anyway. "No, I'm unfortunately sober."
You hum in response before stepping aside and letting her come in. There's a voice in the back of your head that warns you not to get caught up in the past. To keep your distance until she, at the very least, apologizes for being such a jerk to you.
Kate manages to make it to your couch without tripping while you lock your door and put the baseball bat back in its usual place. You brace yourself for the uncomfortable conversation that's bound to follow as you follow after her.
"So...what happened to you?"
Her only response for a few moments is a groan and you do your best to stifle your laughter. For someone who's the human embodiment of a golden retriever, she looks a lot like a grumpy cat right now.
"Stupid mission," she grumbles while attempting to stretch her sore muscles. "I don't know where someone can get the money for that many henchmen."
"Says the rich girl," you reply with a smirk.Kate rolls her eyes but some of the tension in her shoulders disappears.
"Oh, shut up."
Your cross your arms over your chest before raising an eyebrow at her. "I don't think you're in any position to talk to me like that."
A barely noticeable blush spreads across her features. "Sorry," she mumbles. "I just...I've missed talking to you like this."
You wish it didn't but your heart skips a beat at her words. It's stupid considering the fact she's the one who put you guys in this situation yet there's nothing you can do about it. Your heart still belongs to her.
"Is that why you've been ignoring me lately?" You ask, unable to keep the bitterness out of your tone. "Why are you even here, anyway? I'm sure your girlfriend's worried about you."
Your words cause the smallest of changes in Kate's body language. She hunches down almost as if she's trying to sink into herself and disappear. You've seen her like this far too many times to not know how she's feeling.
"She would be if she didn't hate my guts right about now," she replies with a sigh. "Can't say I blame her, breaking up with her and leaving on a mission isn't the most mature thing to do."
"Wow, you're finally self-aware," you tease her, more out of habit that anything else. "A lot can change in a month, huh?"
The lack of annoyance in your tone allows her to relax again. As much as you might like to be petty, she seems genuinely sorry and upset. "Okay, I deserve that. I've been an asshole to you."
"Yes, you have, but it looks like karma finally caught up with you."
There's an edge of concern to your words that you can't quite hide. She doesn't seem to be in excruciating pain which hopefully means she's not badly hurt but with how stubborn she is, you wouldn't be surprised if she was blatantly hiding a gunshot wound.
Kate chuckles as she leans back against your couch, the movement allows you to search her suit for bloodstains and, thankfully, you find nothing except a couple of tears in the fabric. "Karma's a bitch..but I probably deserved it."
"Probably?" You ask.
"Okay, fine," she grumbles. "I definitely deserved it. It just...seemed like the right thing to do."
You can't hold back the scoff that leaves your lips. "On what Earth was ignoring me after hooking up with me "the right thing to do"?"
She grimaces, the words hitting her a little too hard. You feel a little bad for her even though these are simply the consequences of her own actions. "I was afraid of ruining our friendship. I didn't...I don't want to lose you, y/n. You mean too much to me."
A part of you wants to keep being petty about the whole thing but you've missed her far too much to push her away now. Even though she probably deserves it for being such an idiot.
"You have a very weird way of showing it." You finally allow yourself to close the distance between you two, walking over and taking a seat next to her.
Kate's hand instantly finds its way into yours, her head turning to look at you. There's a thin layer of tears in her eyes that tugs at your heartstrings. "I know...and I really am sorry."
"I know," you reply, giving her hand a soft squeeze. "You're my best friend, Kate, I've always known you're an idiot."
She rolls her eyes but doesn't say anything more, allowing a comfortable silence to fill the room.
There's a lot more you both still want to say and yet neither of you makes any attempt at breaking the moment. It's almost comforting how quickly you fall back together like two slightly damaged magnets.
Finally, after minutes go by, Kate allows herself to tell you the truth.
"It's you," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's always been you and I'm so sorry I tried to pretend it wasn't true."
Her words bring a wave of relief, and a slight bit of annoyance that you do your best to supress. "Can you just shut up and kiss me before I kick you out?"
She laughs, a real one this time, before leaning forward and stealing your breath with a kiss.
It's not enough to fix all the damage but it's a start. And you're more than happy to flip the page with her.
#kate bishop x reader#kate bishop x female reader#kate bishop x y/n#kate bishop x you#kate bishop#kate bishop fanfiction#hawkeye#hailee steinfed#marvel fanfiction#mcu imagine#wlw#wlw fic#writing
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Congrats! How huge! Can I shop?! 🛍️
There's an antique lock and key set and a pair of velvet gloves that look like they have my name written all over them (or a smutty friends to lovers with Steve Harrington where maybe we're partners in a game - drinking game at a rager, yard game at a bbq, board game on a game night, chicken at the pool party...I'm not picky - and celebrating our winning streak gets...a little out of hand 😉😉)
thank you, angel ♥ i got more than a little carried away with this one lol 6.4k words | cw: fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex 18+ only! mdni! literally the smuttiest smut that ever smutted
amy's flea market ♥
"Ready?" Steve asks.
No. Fuck, no.
“Yeah,” you respond. Steve smiles that almost evil smile of his and dives down so you can climb onto his shoulders. Again. You can't believe you're doing this again.
It's the third round of chicken fighting that you and Steve are participating in, and as you climb onto Steve's shoulders, you try not to think that you're climbing onto Steve's shoulders.
Steve. Your friend Steve. The guy you have the world's biggest crush on...no, fuck that. It's more. You know it's more, but you're afraid to admit the stronger word.
Because Steve is Steve. He's off limits.
Which doesn't make it any easier for you to try not to think about the way his big, warm hands are now on your thighs, holding on tight so you don't fall off his shoulders, where you're sitting in nothing but a bikini, his head between your legs...
"1, 2,3...go!" Robin yells, sitting on the edge of the pool with her feet in the water. You raise your arms as the team in front of you advances, the girl's arms stretched in hopes of pushing you off Steve.
But you and Steve are, apparently, invincible today.
It happens faster this time; next thing you know, the girl's grip slips, and you are the one who ends up pushing her into the water, her partner also losing his balance in the process. They laugh and the crowd — including Robin — goes wild. The adrenaline surges through your veins as you realize you've won. Again. Steve keeps you up there for one more moment, just so you can throw your arms in the air, giggling, enjoying your third victory in a row. Then, he carefully lowers you down into the water.
When he emerges again, wet hair sticking to his forehead, he's grinning at you as he grabs your wrist, making you raise your arm one more for the crowd.
You giggle.
Steve sighs. It's that laugh of yours, the one that makes his heart skip a beat every time.
"I think that's enough for today," you say, lowering your arm and grinning up at him, a bit dizzy from the adrenaline of the victory and the heat of the sun on your skin.
Steve suddenly feels dizzy too, for a completely different reason.
He unsuspectingly watches as a fat drop of water travels down your lower lip, to your chin, your neck... and then you turn around, moving in the direction of the pool ladder. Against his better judgment, he follows.
Once out of the pool, you look around.
"D'you want me to grab a clean towel for you?" Steve offers, ever the gentleman.
"Towel, yeah, that would be great..." you murmur, feeling ten times more self-conscious now that the two of you are out of the water. You don't even know most of the people here… "Can I come with you?"
Steve coughs.
The pool party had started earlier that day. The only clean towels remaining in that house now are in his bathroom.
In his room.
And you're all wet.
For God's sake. That's the last place where he should be alone with you right now.
But, like an idiot, Steve nods, "Sure, let's go."
He leads you through the living room, past a group of people who are sitting on the floor, drinking and laughing, to the stairs, taking them two at a time. You're a little out of breath, but manage to keep up with his long strides until he reaches the top. The hallway up here is a lot dimmer, but you can still see the soft, warm sunlight coming from beneath his bedroom door. It's strange how you've never been in his room before. Countless times in his house, sure, but never his room.
Steve clears his throat and then opens the door, stepping aside to let you enter first.
It's... not what you expected. It's not messy like the stereotypical rich boy's room, but it's not pristine either. It's neat, orderly, but... lived in. There's a king-sized bed in the center of the room, covered with a duvet that looks like it's been slept in. A small nightstand on each side of the bed, with a lamp and a few framed photos on top — you're even in some of them with him and the kids. The walls are painted a soft, warm blue, and there's a big window next to the bed, letting in the bright sunlight.
The air smells like... like him. Like soap and hairspray.
Steve clears his throat, drawing your attention back to him. He's still shirtless, so it's not like that's hard to do. "Here, take this," he says, tossing a towel in your direction. You catch it reflexively, feeling the softness of the fabric against your bare skin.
"Thanks," you murmur, rubbing your hair with it.
The sound of laughter from downstairs seeps in through the partly open window. Steve is standing on the other side of the room, a towel loosely draped around his neck, and maybe it's that mysterious drink Robin offered you earlier making you imagine things, but there's a strange tension in the air and you're under the distinct impression that Steve is consciously avoiding you as you dry off.
You wonder what he's thinking.
Steve clears his throat again, seeming to steel himself for something. "Um... I'm gonna go grab a drink. You... you want one?" he asks, not quite meeting your eye.
"Sure. And...can you get my dress? I left it downstairs earlier."
Steve nods, turning away from you so fast you almost wonder if he's mad. He disappears into the hallway, and you hear the click of the door being closed behind him, followed by the distant sound of footsteps as he makes his way downstairs.
Left alone in his room, you wander over to the bed and sit down on the edge, now wrapped in your towel. The duvet is soft against your bare skin, and the pillows smell like him. You can't help but wonder what it would be like to curl up here with him, to feel his warmth surround you as you drift off to sleep.
Probably not the kind of thought you should have in your friend's room.
The door opens again, and Steve steps back in, two glasses of something clear and fizzy in his hand. "Here you go," he says, handing you one of them. You take the drink gratefully, sniffing at it before taking a sip. It's some kind of spritzer, sweet and tangy. "And here's your dress."
It's draped over the curve of his arm. Steve sets his own drink on the nightstand before sitting down on the bed beside you, extending his arm so you could take the dress.
You do take it, but make no move to put it on. "I didn't know you were that good at chicken fighting," you say, trying to make it sound light-hearted.
Steve smiles. "Pretty sure it was all you."
"Of course not," you playfully nudge him. "We're a team."
He looks at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he reaches for his drink and takes a generous sip. "Yeah, a team," he repeats softly.
"What?"
"Nothing."
He studies you for a moment, taking another sip of his drink. The silence stretches between you. You wish you knew what was going through his mind, if he was feeling the same things you were.
"It is something," you quietly insist.
Steve looks at you, his eyes flickering uncertainly. "I don't know what you mean," he says finally, but there's a catch in his voice that betrays him, a hint of vulnerability that you've never heard before.
You stand up. He looks at you like you had just slapped him.
"I'm still wet," you explain. Then, way too quickly for your embarrassment to go unnoticed, you add, "from the pool, I mean! Not...I don't want to make a mess of your bed or anything, you know...I mean, by sitting there while I'm wearing a wet bikini and-"
Steve cuts you off with a laugh. "Hey, hey," he says, reaching out to take your hand. "It's okay. You're fine. You can sit here." He squeezes your hand gently, and there's a warmth in his touch that sends a shiver through you. "And if you did make a mess, I'd clean it up. No worries."
You sit down again. Better than awkwardly standing there.
"Very gentlemanly of you," you murmur, a small smile tugging at your lips.
Steve shrugs, returning your smile. "I'm not that bad, am I?" he asks, his voice teasing.
"The worst. But you're a good partner in chicken fighting, though."
Steve swallows hard.
"Just that?"
There is a moment of silence, as you and Steve stare at each other. You know exactly what he means, what's behind that question, behind the look he's giving you right now, studying your face like it's the first time he's seeing it. At least...you think you know.
He puts his glass aside again. You open your mouth to say something, but he's faster.
"I need to go."
"Wait-"
He doesn't wait. Steve is on his feet in a second, almost at the door in two.
But you, somehow supernaturally faster…you grab his wrist. You grab his wrist with both hands and oh God, Steve's not quite sure what to do with you now. He doesn't respond, doesn't move. You tug at his arm, wanting him to turn around, look at you. He doesn't.
"Steve."
His name feels like a whisper on your lips. It's not loud, but it's urgent.
Steve is having a hard time remembering why he's supposed to keep his distance from you. He turns around to look at you, your hand slipping down to his, still not letting him go…and he realizes it was a bad idea.
The desperation in your eyes mirrors his own, and before he knows what he's doing, Steve is leaning in, hands grabbing your face, mouth finding yours, lips parting.
He's not gentle, not soft.
You moan into the kiss and Steve kicks the door closed without looking, his hands finding your waist as you cling to his neck, the towel falling at your feet. Your lips part and he slips inside, tasting you, feeling the warmth of your breath on his skin as you gasp, stumbling back as he pushes forward.
The bed is soft but cold beneath you as you land, Steve on top of you, pinning you down."God," he groans into your neck. "Sorry."
You giggle. "God, sorry?"
He groans in reply, lips moving against your neck as he continues to kiss his way down your collarbone. "I mean it," he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire. "I shouldn't be doing this."
"M' not...complaining."
Steve laughs roughly into your skin, pressing his lips to the dip between your breasts and finally looking up into your eyes. He pauses for a moment, searching for something there. You can see the uncertainty in his expression, the fear of losing control, of what will happen if he really lets go.
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No," you say automatically.
He chuckles at your answer, a soft, low sound that vibrates through your chest. "You're sure?" he whispers, leaning in to kiss you again, this time softer, slower. "Because I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to take advantage of you."
"How could you possibly take advantage of me?" you ask, sounding almost annoyed.
Steve smiles. "I don't know. I just..." He trails off, pressing a quick kiss to your chin. "I just want this to be right."
You can feel his hesitation, his worry, but you don't want to push him away. You reach up, gently cupping his cheek, and look into his eyes. "I want to."
"You want to?"
"Yes."
There's a moment where the weight of what you've just said seems to press down on Steve, making him pause. He looks into your eyes, searching for any sign of doubt or fear, but finds only the truth. He exhales shakily, looking like it takes every ounce of his self-control to do so. "Tell me you're not drunk."
You reach up, tracing his jawline with your fingers. "I'm not drunk."
"Fuck..." he mutters, trying to concentrate as you trail your fingers down his neck, over his collarbone. "Really? Don't lie to me."
You smile, shaking your head in disbelief. "I'm not drunk," you repeat. "I had like…two drinks. Are you drunk?"
Steve laughs, a choked-up sound. "I've had more than that," he admits. "But I'm…I'm okay." He looks at you for a long moment, like he's trying to commit your face to memory, just in case. Then he leans in, kissing you softly, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that belies his earlier urgency. "But even if I were drunk, you're welcome to take advantage of me anytime."
You smile against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I'll keep that in mind," you whisper, feeling a rush of affection for him. Steve groans into the kiss, pressing your back against the mattress as his hips move between your legs. His skin feels hot against yours, his muscles tense, and with nothing but the thin fabric of your bikini bottom and his swim trunks between you, there's little left for the imagination.
"Steve," you breathe out as he kisses his way down your neck, nipping at your skin with his teeth. His name feels heavy in your mouth, like you've been holding it there for years and it's finally been given the chance to be spoken. "Steve…"
"You keep saying my name like that and I'm going to lose it."
You feel the wet heat of his mouth as he kisses his way back down your neck, over your collarbone. His fingers are patient, too patient as they trail up your sides, over your ribs, stopping just shy of your breasts like he's afraid he'll go too far, too fast, too soon.
"Can I-"
"Yes."
His laughter is soft as he pulls back to look at you, eyes half-lidded and mouth slightly parted. He brushes a strand of wet hair away from your face, tracing the line of your jaw with his thumb. "You don't even know what I was going to say."
"What were you going to say?"
He smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "Something about wanting you. About how I can't believe I'm finally here with you." His fingers drift lower, tracing the curve of your neck before one hooks playfully under the delicate string of your bikini top. "I was going to ask if I could touch you."
You nod, feeling the anticipation building inside you. "Yes," you breathe, arching into his touch. "Please."
His smile is slow, almost wicked. He lets go of the string and instead cups your breast, thumb tracing the hardening peak of your nipple through the thin fabric of your top. Your back arches further, and a soft moan escapes your lips as his fingers find purchase and squeeze. He pulls back slightly, watching as you close your eyes, your chest rising and falling rapidly. "Is this okay?" he whispers, tracing a circle around your nipple with his finger.
"Yes," you manage to choke out.
Steve hums in understanding, his touch growing more confident as he cups your breast in his hand, squeezing gently before circling your nipple with his thumb. The sensation is almost too much, making your hips twitch against his as you arch further into the touch.
He wonders for a moment if he should take it further, if he should untie the knot and push the bikini top down, revealing your breasts to his touch...would you be okay with that? Or should he keep going, teasing you until you beg? His eyes flicker down to your lips, watching as they part slightly with each shallow breath, how your tongue darts out to wet them.
You're so beautiful, he thinks, almost dizzy from the sight of you.
He can feel the warmth between his legs, the insistent pressure as his cock strains against the fabric of his trunks. You'll be the death of him, he's certain. He's already so fucking hard and you're not even naked yet.
He leans in, lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Can I?"
He kisses your neck, your collarbone, your shoulder. And then his fingers slide lower, tracing the line of your stomach, pausing at your navel…
"Can I touch you here?"
The feel of his fingers tracing the line of your stomach, so close to where you ache for him to touch, is almost too much to bear. You chuckle as you arch your back, offering him more of your skin, more of yourself, then grabbing his wrist when he doesn't seem convinced, guiding his hand lower.
"Please," grinning, you run your fingers through his hair with your free hand, feeling the dampness there as it clings to the strands, "stop asking."
He smiles against your skin, his fingers finding the soft, warm skin of your inner thigh, tracing up and down, so close to where you're aching for him. "You're sure?" he whispers, his voice low and teasing. "You're sure you want this?"
"Steve Harrington, you-"
But you can't even finish the sentence before he's kissing you, his mouth warm and wet and demanding as his fingers finally slip between your legs, sliding beneath the thin scrap of fabric and you gasp into his mouth, arching into his touch, forgetting whatever insult you were going to say.
You feel the rough pad of his index finger against your clit, and then he's pressing, circling, teasing.
"Fuck."
"You're so wet," he breathes, watching your face. "So fucking wet for me, honey, God," His fingers move faster, his touch more demanding as he presses deeper, finding your entrance and circling, circling, wanting to push inside.
You grip the back of his head, your other hand clutching at the duvet beneath you, your hips arching off the bed as his fingers move in a blissful, insistent rhythm. It's been so long since anyone has touched you like this, since you've felt this kind of need and desire, but this…this is even better than you could have imagined. This is Steve, your Steve.
"I want you inside me," you pant before you can think twice about it, your words breathless and urgent. "Please."
Steve hums, his fingers still working their magic as he leans forward, kissing your neck, your shoulder, your collarbone. "I want that too," he whispers, and then he's pushing the bikini bottoms aside, throwing them across the room, revealing your wet, aching folds to his gaze, moving to trail wet, open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, over your hip, and finally to the juncture of your thighs.
Shit. He parts your legs with his shoulders, bending his knees to kneel between them. "Let me make you come first."
With...his mouth?
You prop yourself up on your elbows to look at his face, more than a little self-conscious now. "Wait, but you...you're gonna...?"
He wraps his arms around your hips, holding you still as he leans in, his breath warm against your exposed skin. Curiously, he asks, "You don't want me to?"
You shake your head; no, of course you do. But the idea of him going down on you...it's so intimate. So much more than just having sex. "I just..."
He looks up at you, and there's something in his eyes that makes you forget whatever you were about to say. Something that makes you feel safe and wanted and desired. "You just...?" he whispers, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your inner thigh.
It's hard to concentrate when he does that. You squirm a little, but his hold on you is surprisingly firm.
"I just..." You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. "I just haven't had anyone do that for me in a really long time." It's true; the last time you can remember was with a boyfriend years ago, and even then it was more of a "be polite" thing than anything else. But with Steve...it feels different. "Do you *really* want to? Because you don't have to if-"
You feel him smile against your skin as he continues to gently kiss his way up your thigh. "I want to," he whispers, and the way he says it, the sincerity in his voice, makes you believe him. "I really want to. But, um…only if you want it too."
You open your eyes, watching as he looks up at you, waiting for your answer. He looks so hopeful, so eager. If he wants this, if he wants to make you feel this good...how can you say no?
With a shaky breath, you nod, your fingers threading through his hair. "Okay," you whisper. "Okay."
Steve hums in satisfaction. You feel a shiver run down your spine as he slowly pulls your legs wider apart, resting his elbows on the bed as he leans in closer, his hot breath fanning across your folds. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he gazes up at you, watching your reaction, almost daring you to tell him to stop.
You watch, mesmerized, as he tilts his head, licking his lips before he leans in, pressing a gentle, open-mouthed kiss to the very center of you.
Boy... does he know what he's doing.
Your eyes flutter shut as he begins to lick and suck, his tongue dancing over your most sensitive skin, his fingers curling into the flesh of your hips, urging you to arch into his touch. You gasp, feeling your whole body tense, your hands tangled in his hair, your nails almost digging into his scalp. He moans, his breath hot against you, and you realize he's watching your reactions, taking cues from your body.
"Good?" he asks, as if you're not already on the verge of coming.
But you can't answer, can't form a coherent thought, let alone a word. So you nod. Frantically so, head thumping against the mattress. He smiles against your skin like he's won some sort of prize, and then you feel the slip of his fingers, two of them easily sliding inside you, tight but wet enough to be ready. You cry out, his name a desperate plea falling off your lips as he thrusts his fingers deeper, curling them up to find just the right spot.
"Oh, God..." you moan, your hips bucking up against his hand. "Steve..." Your fingernails dig into the duvet, your back arching as he expertly works his fingers inside you.
Steve seems to sense that you're getting close, the way your hips are moving erratically against his hand, the way your breath is coming in short, ragged gasps. He looks up at you for a moment as if to gauge your reaction, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. He keeps his fingers exactly where they are while he leans up over your body to kiss you, propping himself up on one elbow.
"You taste so good," his voice is a whisper against your lips as they part beneath his. "So wet. God, I want to feel you around me."
"Yes, please."
Your enthusiasm makes Steve grin against your lips. "Please?" he muses. He's hard, of course he is hard in his swim trunks, cock straining against the fabric as it leans against your thigh. But he doesn't want to rush this. Not with you.
"Steve," you admonish, sliding your hands up his arms.
His fingers are still moving, but more slowly now, less urgent. It's almost as if he's teasing you, drawing this out. Your hips rock up against his hand, and you feel a surge of wetness between your legs as you arch your back, seeking more contact. His lips find yours again, tongue sliding against yours as he thrusts his fingers deeper, curling them to hit just the right spot. You moan into the kiss, your body trembling as the pleasure builds, your fingers tangled in his hair.
"Oh God," you say in a shaky voice. "Steve, please..."
He groans against your lips, curling his fingers deeper inside you, searching. "Please what?" he whispers as he kisses along your jaw, teasing, not mean, never mean, but drawing it out just a little bit more.
In lieu of an answer, you find yourself arching your back in a desperate manner. His fingers brush against something deep inside you, something that has you gasping and tightening around him, close too close. His fingers find the rhythm you've been craving, your orgasm building, building, building.
"That's it," he whispers against your neck, his own breath hot and uneven. "That's it, baby."
And you do. It's unlike anything you've ever felt before, a rush of pleasure so intense it makes your vision blur, your skin warm all over.
Steve, watching your expression as you come apart beneath his touch, feels the warmth of your release coat his fingers, the tightness of your body around them. God. It's a heady sensation, knowing that he can make you feel this way.
His fingers are slick with your wetness as he pulls them free and gently pushes you back onto the bed. You're lying flat on your back again, and he's grinning as he looks down at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
"You're...very good at this," your voice is a breathy whisper as you glance up at him, a flush rising in your cheeks. You chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing him down for a gentle kiss. Steve's skin is warm beneath your fingertips, his kiss featherlight soft against your lips. "Do you want-"
"Yes," he cuts you off with a husky laugh, leaning down to nip at your neck. "If you do," His hand finds the string of your bikini top, finger following along it all the way up to the bow. With a practiced flick, he undoes it but doesn't yet pull the fabric away, watching your eyes as he lets the knot slide free, half expecting you to tell him to stop. You don't, though. You watch him, your chest rising and falling with every breath, and something in his chest aches at the sight.
"You can take it off," you reassure, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "It's just me."
You hope that comes across as playful and confident, but maybe you don't seem so convincing when you're still a little breathless, a little sensitive, so you decide to take matters into your own hands and reach up, fingers shaking only a little, to pull the cups of your bikini top down and away from your chest.
Steve watches you, his expression somewhere between adoration and awe as you reveal yourself to him like a fucking gift unwrapped.
"You're unreal," he breathes. "You're so..."
When he reaches out to touch, just the very tips of his fingers brushing against the sensitive flesh, you try to encourage him by arching into the contact.
"So fucking beautiful," he whispers, leaning down to kiss your collarbone. "I can't get enough of you."
His hands slide down your sides, over the smooth skin of your hips, and then lower still, cupping your ass. He pulls you closer, pressing your body against his, slowly grinding against you. "Do you want..." he tries, an urgent edge creeping into his voice. "Do you want me inside you?"
Steve looks like he's about to explode at the mere suggestion, his expression a mixture of raw desire and aching need. You're about to reply when he nips at your neck, his teeth grazing the skin there. You momentarily lose your words.
"You're killing me," he half groans, half laughs, his hips moving harder against yours as he pushes himself as close to you as he possibly can. You can feel him through the thin fabric of his swim trunks, hard and insistent, and you're sure it wouldn't take much more of this teasing before he loses control completely. "Just say the word," he whispers, kissing along the line of your jaw, "and I'll give you anything you want."
"Can I...can I touch you?"
You feel Steve stiffen at your request at first, his body tensing beneath your fingers. "Of course you can," he breathes, a shudder working its way through him. "You can do whatever you want, baby."
You reach down, fingers shaky in your eagerness to please. You grasp the hem of his trunk and tug gently, almost hesitant, but he's already cooperating, kicking them off and letting them fall to the floor without so much as a second thought.
"Oh," you breathe, eyes widening as you take in the sight of him, naked and perfect in front of you. Steve's cock is already hard, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip, and you can't help but reach out and touch it, tentatively at first, but then more confidently, wrapping your fingers around the base of him and waiting to gauge his reaction.
"Oh, fuck," he moans, closing his eyes as you stroke him. "That feels...that's so good."
Your fingers feel warm and soft around him, and with each gentle stroke, he feels himself growing harder and harder, unable to contain the pleasure building inside of him. He opens his eyes to look down at you, watching your expression as you touch him, your focus solely on the way your fingers slide up and down his length.
Before you can get too carried away, though, Steve's hands are grabbing yours, guiding them away from his cock rather urgently. "If you want me inside you," he pants, a strained smile tugging at his lips, "you're going to have to stop that." His voice is a little shaky, a little rough, and you can tell he's struggling to keep himself in check.
You grin up at him. "I...do want that."
Steve's answering smile is a little more confident now, and he leans forward, brushing the pad of his index finger across your lips, tracing the shape of your bottom lip as he does so. "I think you've had enough teasing today," he whispers, hand moving to cup your neck, his thumb rubbing gently over your pulse point. "You really want this?"
"Yes," you breathe, unable to keep the word from slipping past your lips. "Yeah, I do."
Steve's thumb continues to trace circles around your pulse point as he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. His kiss starts gentle, a mere brush of his mouth against yours, "Yeah? Can I?" sliding his hand down your stomach, between your legs, he adds, "Fuck, yeah, you're...you're wet enough."
You gasp into his kiss as he brushes his fingers against you. "Yeah," you moan, arching your hips up into his touch, with a grin, "Yeah, I am, I...you're gonna make me beg or something, huh?"
"I'd never make you beg for anything, sweetheart."
His fingers move in a slow circle, spreading your wetness around your entrance, making sure you're as ready for him as you can be.
You reach up, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pull him closer as he begins to shift between your legs, his hand coming back up to gently guide himself towards your entrance, and then he looks down at you, searching your eyes for some sign, some reassurance, before he's pushing inside, slowly, gently, taking his time to ease his way into you.
You gasp at the feeling of being stretched, filled, but at the same time it's perfect, it's...right.
He leans forward, bracing himself on his arms, and watches as you arch your back, your lips parted in a silent moan. "More?" he whispers, his voice a rough rasp. "Should I...?"
"More," you breathe, meeting his eyes.
And Steve gives it to you. He slides deeper, pushing in farther, stretching you just enough to make you feel so full of him. You're tight and he's impatient, but he makes sure he doesn't rush, doesn't force it. You feel the muscles in his back and arms tensing as he fights against the urge to go harder, how much he wants to lose control and just fuck you into the mattress.
He takes you like he's been dreaming of it for years, like he's never going to get the chance to feel you like this again. Slowly.
"Steve," his name rolls off your tongue like a sigh the moment he's all the way inside you, your muscles clenching around him in an attempt to hold him close.
He tries to remember how to breathe, pressing his lips to your shoulder. He feels you squeeze around him and muffles a sound between a moan and a growl against your skin, "Can I move?"
"Yes, I...yes."
He pulls back slightly, just enough to adjust his angle, and then pushes back inside you. The sensation is almost too much, the way your body seems to fit so perfectly around him, the way your muscles clench and release, drawing him deeper still. Fuck. You're so wet that he can feel himself sliding easily in and out of you. The sounds of your skin slapping against his is a perfect counterpoint to the gasping, keening noises you're making into his shoulder.
He knows he won't last half as much as he'd like if you keep that up.
"God, that's it," he growls, the words lost in the movement of his hips against yours. "Tell me how it feels, sweetheart." One of his hands slides down between your bodies, cupping your aching clit, rubbing in a tight circle as he thrusts into you. The sensation is overwhelming, too much and not nearly enough all at once.
Your legs twist, one hooking behind his back for leverage, and you arch into his touch, your nails digging into his shoulders as you feel the tension building, the familiar tightness coiling in your core. "So good," you moan, thrusting your hips up to meet his, wanting more of that friction, more of his skin against yours. "Can you go...faster, please?"
He's lost to the sensation of your body moving against his, the feel of you slick and hot and tight. He's close, so close, but he doesn't want this to be over yet. He pulls back slightly, only to slam back in harder, the head of his cock hitting the spot inside you that makes you arch your back and gasp.
His hand moves faster on your clit, circling and pressing, and you're so close now, so close, you can feel it building, making you shiver and writhe underneath him. Steve leans down, lips finding the skin of your neck, sucking and nipping as he thrusts harder, deeper, faster.
"Yes," you moan, arching into his touch, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Fuck, yes."
Steve lets his hand move from between your legs to the back of your knee, hooking it there, holding you open to him as his cock slides in and out of you with a harsh, wet sound. You feel so full of him, stretched and sore and aching in the best way possible.
He's so close now, the tension in his body almost painful as he fights against the urge to come before you do. Steve watches your face as you writhe beneath him, lips parted and flushed, eyes glazed over in pleasure like you can't quite focus. It's the most erotic thing he's ever seen. He doesn't want this to end. Being inside you like this, feeling the way you move against him...he doesn't think he'll ever get enough.
Your nails scrape down his back, leaving little red lines in their wake. Steve thinks he's going to lose it every time you do that.
"Fuck," he groans, the word caught in his throat as he thrusts harder into you. The sounds of your skin slapping against his makes it almost unbearable and he has to think of something else, anything else, to keep from coming. "Feels good, sweetheart?" he whispers, his hand moving between your legs again, this time finding your clit and rubbing in a steady, circular motion.
You arch into his touch, your hips moving in time with his thrusts. "So close," you moan, your voice shaking. "I...I..."
Steve feels the tension building inside you, knows that you're close. He watches your face, the way your eyes have almost rolled back in your head, the way your lips are parted and your breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.
He leans down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and teasing as pushes inside to the hilt, holding you there, feeling your body trembling beneath him. You cry out then, your back arching off the bed, and Steve feels you tighten and pulse around him, gripping him like a fist as you come.
The sensation is almost too much, but he somehow manages to ask, "Can I come inside you?"
You nod, your eyes closed tightly, and he thrusts once, twice…then one last time, feeling himself spill inside you as he moans, body tensing and then relaxing, spent.
Steve collapses on top of you without pulling out, sweaty bodies sticking together. He somehow finds the energy to kiss your shoulder, your neck, your ear, nibbling and sucking until you laugh, shifting beneath him.
"You're heavy," you tease, but you don't really mind. It feels right to have him pressed against you like this, his heart thumping against yours, his breath warm on your skin.
He chuckles, nuzzling deeper into the crook of your neck. "Sorry," he mumbles, before pulling himself up enough to look down at you. You're beautiful, even with your hair tangled and your lips swollen from his kisses. "Do you want to get cleaned up?" he asks, running a hand through his sweaty hair.
"I think I love you."
The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them, and for a moment, you're not sure if you should take them back. But then Steve's eyes widen, his lips part in surprise, and you know it's too late. You've said it.
"Sorry, I shouldn't...I mean, I-"
Steve cups your face in his hands, his eyes wide and serious. "I love you too," he says, his voice a little unsteady. "I have for a long time."
He leans in, pressing his lips to yours gently, then more firmly, as if he's making sure this is real, that you feel it too.
But you feel it too.
God, you feel it too.
#🏷️ amy's flea market#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington x you#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington angst#steve x you#steve x reader#stranger things fanfic#stranger things imagine#steve harrington drabble
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Impossible Love Resists Best
Hi guys ♥
First of all, can we talk about this gif please?
It’s from this request that I received like an eternity ago, sorry?
Summary : How to survive when your super-protective-intrusive older sister aka Patri Guijarro discovers that you have an affair with one of your teammates.
TW : Swearing, !GuijarroReader
Enjoy and tell me what you think about this one :)
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We can’t really say that Patri is the one you better get along with between your other brothers and sisters. Even if you were born two years after her, you don’t have quite the same tempter. You were four children in the family and the only thing that brought you and Patri together was football. You never liked seeing her meddle in your affairs or wanting to control every parts of your life.
So when she found herself playing at FC Barcelona in 2015, you were pretty relieved. You chose Atletico Madrid some months after her departure, just to stay in Spain but not follow her steps. Your call to the Spanish national team, however, more or less forced you to play together from time to time. When your contract with Atletico ended and you had to make a choice, you hesitated for a long time before accepting the offer from Barcelona. Seeing your sister every day honestly made you hesitate a lot. It was one thing to support her at family celebrations, but it was another to have her in everyday life.
So, before you agreed, you asked Alexia Putellas for advice. You play together on the national team and she knows Patri very well. You knew Alexia would take your opinion into consideration and think about the well-being of her team before anything else. After much discussion with her, you finally agreed and arrived in Barcelona in the summer of 2022.
And finally, everything went rather well. You didn’t spend too much time with your sister, preferring to train with Salma, Ingrid and Mapi or Lucy. Unlike Patri, you went to the World Cup in Australia and even though it caused some tense discussions between you two, it never changed your way of seeing things.
Apart from the ideals and your desire to change things, you had to admit that there was something else that made you want to fly to kangaroo country. I mean, someone.
This someone who wakes up gently at your side, opening her delicious chocolate eyes.
You and Ona met during your first selection for the Spanish adult team. It wasn’t until after Euro 2022 that you got together. A sweet way to console yourself for your defeat. But, concerned about your sister’s reaction, you decided to keep this relationship hidden. When Ona was still in Manchester, it wasn’t too complicated. You talked a lot by messages or by Facetime and since the Federation used to always make the same pairs for hotel rooms, you took the opportunity to find yourself at those times.
You were afraid that Ona’s arrival in Barcelona would change things, but not at all. The beautiful brunette took an apartment five minutes walk from yours, finding you the excuse to carpool very often. Nobody suspected that if you came together sometimes, it was because you spent the night together. In truth, since Ona is in the same city as you are, you have trouble spending time away from her.
"Holà" Ona mumble before turning in her back to stretch her body.
Her movement brings down the sheet on her body and you don't hesitate to let your eyes slide on her. When you go up to her eyes, she arched an amused eyebrow and you offer her a guilty smile.
"Don’t start like this, or we will never get there on time"
"I’m not even sorry"
You give her an angelic smile that makes her laugh and you get closer to her to curl up against her, your head on her chest. The regular beating of her heart makes you doze again, unless it's her nails that massage your skull. You hums and close your eyes, getting yourself comfortable.
"Do you have anything to do today? After training?"
"Pina is planning to kidnapp me to go shopping"
You roll your eyes as Ona giggle. You hate shopping. You hate looking for something for hours, only to realize that what you liked is no longer available in the right size. You hate people in stores who go half crazy and having to lug a dozen bags to your parked car 20 minutes walk away makes you want to kill someone.
"And you?"
"Nothing, maybe I'll go see my parents"
You hums one more time and begin to stroke Ona's arm. This is maybe your favorite part of her body, you have a thing with her arms and hands. You both stay like this for twenty minutes, before you need to prepare yourself for training. Like many other times, you arrive together in the car park and go together to the changing rooms. But, in order not to draw the attention of your teammates to your relationship, you and Ona decided to spend as much time together visually as with others. Because outside of FC Barcelona, it’s clear that Ona is the one you spend the most time with.
********
Celebrating a team victory at a local bar, you find yourself stuck between Mapi and Lucy. Usually you refuse this kind of party, knowing that Patri is there almost every time. And besides, Ona has a reputation for leaving early, so she can discreetly join you at home without it appearing strange. The only time you left one of these parties together, you were surprised by Alexia while you were kissing in Ona’s car, unable to keep your hands to yourself after restricting yourself all evening. The blond was looking for you to give you back the jacket you had forgotten.
This makes her the only person who knows about your relationship and she promised not to get involved, even though she advised you to talk to Patri before she found out for herself.
You were drinking alcohol-free cocktail, not wanting to have a headache tomorrow morning.
"I'm booooored" Mapi whines, letting herself go of the backrest. "I need an occupation. Why don’t we find you someone, Mini-Guijarro?"
You grimace at the nickname you hate, seeing Ona tense on her chair a few meters from you. Not wanting to be the second Guijarro, you actually go with your first name on your jersey for example.
"Go dancing with your girlfriend, you dork" you answer smiling at Mapi, sipping your drink.
"Are you annoying my little sister?" Patri ask sitting on the free chair in front of you. "That’s one thing I have reserved for myself, you know?"
Mapi laugh as you roll your eyes. The blonde sits more upright and leans on the table explaining her action plan to Patri.
"I thought we could find someone for your sister."
"Are you joking? She’s a baby" Patri replies coldly, killing the fun.
"What are you talking about? She’s not a 12 years old anymore"
Your frown and take a quick look at Ona. She's looking at you too, but like some other girl around your table. Mapi had raised an eyebrow and Patri was about to respond to her before Lucy does it first.
"Why don’t you stop talking about her like she’s not here?"
Both decided not to add anything, at least for the first few seconds. This gives you time to shoot a look and a smile to thanks Lucy, who answers you with a wink.
It’s exactly for this kind of thing that you never talked about your relationship with Ona to Patri and for which you never talked about your love life with her. She knows you have a preference for women, but that’s all. She never even knew the name of one of your girlfriends. Not that you’ve had dozens, but still.
"Do you know she’s a footballer and not a nun, at least?"
Mapi comes back, getting your sister’s attention and you sigh.
"What do you mean?"
Looking kind of angry, Patri crossed her arms on her chest and looks at Mapi with a bad air. Mapi seems determined to change her mind and let you have a sentimental life, perhaps imagining that Patri’s opinion has already prevented you from doing something.
"She’s young, pretty hot and I’m sure that if she wanted to she’d walk out of here with several phone numbers."
"Just because you used to sleep around at the time doesn’t mean everyone does. And don't go there or I'm sure Ingrid would love to learn that you call one of your common friend hot."
Mapi’s amused look becomes a black stare and you decide that the line had been crossed. You get up from your seat, glaring at your sister, raising your voice maybe a little too much than you hopped.
"Enough. Can you stop two minutes of disrespecting people, Patri? I do what I want, when I want, with whom I want. It's not for you to say what is good for me, as if you were interested enough in me for that, other than to remind me all the time that you do everything better than me. You’re just so pathetic. Leave me the fuck alone."
Moving away from the table, you realize that Ona is no longer in her seat but you find her leaning on the bar, in the company of others of your teammates. Going through the dance floor, you intercept Ingrid and advise her to go and get her girlfriend before her and your sister kill each other. Then you finally join the bar and settle down next to Ona.
You meddle in the discussion a few minutes before discreetly shifting your attention to Ona. Your hand found her fingers under the bar and you clenched them discreetly to draw her attention to you.
"Are you okay?" you ask her gently.
"Yeah. The comment about your sentimental possibilities was a little too much"
You make a grimace, frustrated not to be able to take her in your arms to reassure her properly. You stay immersed in her eyes for a few more moments and you realize that you no longer want to stay. You want to go home, your sister’s behavior has greatly annoyed you and you want to talk about it to Ona, too.
"As soon as someone leave, we're leaving too" you decide.
Ona nods and she had the time to finish her drink before Lucy and Aitana decided to leave. You jump at the chance and tell the others that you’re coming home too, followed by Ona. The four of you go out after saying your goodbyes, yourself carefully avoided your sister’s gaze, and it is with great relief that you breathe fresh air from the outside. Ona and you said goodbye to the two others women and went to your car.
"My sister is the dumbest person on earth" you groan angrily, barely the door of the car closed behind you.
Ona smiled sympathetically, but said nothing. She didn’t want to add fuel to the fire, knowing how tense your relationship with Patri has been since you were little. It’s not the first time you’ve complained about it and you’ve already told her a lot. But the way she’s behaving with you makes you half crazy, not to mention she’s even starting to talk badly to your mutual friends now. Mapi and Patri being apparently still in the bar when you left, you imagined that Ingrid’s intervention must have been saving the night.
You relax a little when you feel Ona’s hand on yours. She searches for some seconds on her phone a playlist that will suit you both and the rest of the trip is done in silence. You obviously notice that your girlfriend is also lost in her thoughts, but you prefer to wait until you are at home to question her.
When you arrive home, you both go to the kitchen to drink a glass of water before making a jump in the bathroom to shower before returning to your bedroom. There, you draw Ona against you and you let a new silence settle. You shiver when you feel her draw random shapes on the skin of your belly and even if the feeling is more than pleasant, you decide to attract her attention by raising her chin in your direction.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
"I was just wondering what would happen the day Patri heard about us" Ona said, shrugging.
"You saw what she said earlier, it’s clear that she will take it badly."
You sigh and gently shake your head. She’s your sister, she’s supposed to want your happiness, right?
"Yes, that’s, okay. But us?"
"I don’t understand your question Hermosa"
Eyebrows slightly gathered, you watch Ona sit on your lap and you automatically place your hands on her thighs.
"I’m going to ask you the most selfish question in the world." Ona looks embarrassed, but you smile at her and beckon to continue. "If she tells you to stop our relationship, what would you do?"
The answer seems obvious to you, but you quickly realize that in Ona’s mind this is not necessarily the case. Perhaps it comes from the fact that his parents and brother have never behaved in a way other than that of a loving and supportive family.
"I'm not going to listen Ona, obviously. This option isn't even a possibility."
"Really?"
"Really."
With this you smile and draw her against you again to put your lips on hers. The shyness displayed on your girlfriend’s face squeezes your heart and you resent Patri a little more to impose this kind of doubts. During the kiss your hand is placed on her cheek and you caress her tenderly with your thumb when you speak again.
"I don’t want to lose you, Ona"
"Me neither, Princesa"
********
The next morning, it’s with a better mood that you wake up. When you look at your phone, you realize that your sister tried to call you last night, but you decide to ignore this information for now. You put on an underwear and a t-shirt of Ona, trying not to make any noise and not to wake up the pretty brunette who still sleeps peacefully. You know she usually wakes up quickly once you’re out of bed, but you still have hope that you can make her breakfast before she joins you.
You rummage through your kitchen, realizing it might be time to go shopping, but you end up finding everything you need. The avocado toasts are ready and you were finishing your scrambled eggs when Ona startles you by jumping on your back. The cry you utter is far from advantageous to you, but you cannot hold back your smile when you hear Ona’s laughters.
"Don’t scare me like that!"
"Sorry" she laughs again before putting a kiss on your cheek and coming down from your back.
You cast an amused glance at her before turning in her direction with a plate in each hand.
"Mrs’s breakfast is served"
"It’s Miss until I’m married, thank you" she smirks, taking her plate from your hand.
"Watch out, Batlle."
She stick out her tongue at you and you roll your eyes before following her on the sofa in the living room, where you have the habit of having breakfast, with a music channel on. The discussion between you two is easy and playful, plans to go to the beach being even made since you have the day off. As a local, Ona knows exactly where to go to avoid the world. And doing a little road has never been disturbing for you. You love your trips with your cars, make with laughter and songs of your adolescence shouted out loud.
Your plates and glasses finished, you turn to Ona.
"Have you eaten enough?"
You ask while looking at her, lazily stretching. The dishes will wait a little while before being made.
"Not really" said Ona in a dreamy way. "I think I wouldn’t mind a dessert"
You barely have time to realize what she means that she jumps on you (literally) and you find yourself lying all along on the couch, your hands stuck in Ona’s above your head.
"Oh. This kind of dessert" you laugh, although your laugh get stuck in your throat when you feel her lying on you to deposit open-mouth kisses in the hollow of your neck.
She knows exactly what to do and you feel waves of shivers and heat running through your entire body. You lose your feet when you feel her add bites to her kisses, not enough to leave marks, but enough to set your skin on fire.
You finally manage to free your hands and this manage to satisfy your need to feel Ona’s skin on yours. The t-shirt she was wearing found itself carelessly thrown on the ground somewhere, soon followed by yours. The warmth of her body against your skin gives you incredible sensations and you let her body slide between your legs to feel her even closer to you. Grabbing her head with both of your hands, you kiss her, trying to show her all the emotions she makes you feel. Judging by the moan she lets out, it must be pretty convincing.
Your living room being the first thing visible once the front door of your apartment is passed, it would have been almost impossible to try to hide somewhere. You know you would have tried anyway if you had realized earlier that your front door was opening. Yet you and Ona just have time to turn your heads to find out that the intruder is no one but your sister. To whom you had the stupidity to give the double of your keys, on the insistence of your mother.
Your first reflex is to roll Ona behind you and sit in front of her to hide her nakedness, not particularly wanting your sister to see your girlfriend like that.
"What are you doing here?" you ask.
The number of times Patri has set foot here is counted on the fingers of the hand. That she passed without even taking the time to warn you is surprising, but the one who is the most surprised of the three is probably Patri herself. Wide-eyed, she seems about to drop the paper bag with the logo of the local bakery.
You take advantage of her shock to pick up your t-shirts and get dressed and that’s where Patri restarts. You even wonderif she realized in the first instance that the person with whom you were exchanging a kiss qualified Pegi 18 was actually Ona.
"What the fuck is going on here?!"
She’s angry, of course. The bag of the bakery is thrown on a piece of furniture and when you hear her raise your voice, you get up from the sofa to be at her height. By an alignment of the stars you are taller than her by a few centimeters and you thank the nature of this gift, knowing how impressive Patri can be when she's angry.
"Don’t yell at me, you’re at my house, not yours"
"Shut up! You’re so stupid. Just to stand up to me about last night you had to take someone home? And one of our other teammates?"
The statement is so unexpected that you find yourself speechless for a few seconds. You never imagined for a second that your sister would think that you and Ona were just a one-night stand. But it's especially the fact that she imagines that it turns once again around her that annoys you.
"Out of all the girls in the bar you chose Ona? How can you be so immature?"
"And I'm the immature one now"
You’re laughing, nervously of course. You are so angry that you feel your hands shake, but you manage to keep a certain degree of calm when you feel Ona gently settling her arm on you. Over your shoulder, you look at her. You would have preferred to announce your relationship to your sister in better conditions, but since we were there…
However, it's Patri who speaks before you, speaking directly to Ona.
"What about you? Are you crazy or what? My little sister? Let go of her Ona or I swear that you will regret it"
Yeah, you know you’re not doing the right thing either. But the tone she speaks to the woman you love is even worse than the one she spoke to Mapi last night. And that’s all it takes to get you started.
"Don't you dare talk to her like that" you said to her sharply while bypassing the coffee table to face her.
"I came to apologize for speaking badly to you last night, but I would have been better off getting hit by a car apparently"
She keeps screaming and it starts to get on your nerves.
"This idea is tempting to me" you spit
You try to maintain your anger by talking to her coldly, teeth clenched. You feel Ona moving behind you, standing without really knowing what to do. Her presence, however, allows you to realize that it would be better to continue to try to explain yourself rather than respond to Patri’s provocations. So you take a deep breath before speaking again.
"Look, listen to me. It's not what it look like, I k-"
"Yeah, like you two weren't about to fuck on your couch."
Two seconds of astonished silence followed her sarcasm, while you realized that you correctly understood what she just said. And, so suddenly that neither Ona nor Patri had time to realize what was happening, you grab your sister by the collar of her t-shirt to get her out of your house.
"Get. Out."
You raised your voice too and push her out of your apartment with all your strength. You slam the door in her head, then grab her damn bag of croissant, open the door again to throw it in her face and slam it one more time. The neighbors will be happy.
********
Lying on the couch in Ona’s apartment after an intense workout, you’re both watching your new passion series on Netflix. You haven’t looked at your sister or spoken to her for more than a week now and you still as mad at her. You and Ona informed Alexia of the turn of events and after a long discussion with her, you decided to gradually let your teammates know about your relationship.
Most were surprised to learn this, but after seeing the different pieces of the puzzle put together, it didn't seem improbable to them. For her part, Lucy laughed, saying that she already knew and that you were not very discreet when it came to ogling the other. And Mapi slapped you in the back, certifying that you had very good taste. It made you roll your eyes and laughed Ona, but overall you are rather relieved of everyone’s reactions. Even management and the team committee were briefed and made no comments.
There was only Patri.
"I knew he was cheating on her. What a son of a bitch" grumbles Ona, eyes fixing on the screen while lying against you.
You smile and slide your lips into her hair while shifting your attention to the screen. Despite your respective fears, Patri’s behavior didn't distance you, quite the contrary. Your way of doing things hasn't changed during training or matches, both wishing to keep a distance between your professional life and your personal life.
"Language, young lady" you sing before kissing her scalp again.
You are interrupted in your viewing by your phone which starts to vibrate on the coffee table, attracting your attention. You decided not to answer, before the name of the person trying to reach you appeared. "Papi". You frown, extending your arm to grab your phone. Your dad’s not one to call, just texting with dozens of emoji every text.
After putting the episode on Pause, Ona turns on you so that she is lying on her stomach to be able to look at you. Your concern must be seen since she's also frowning.
"Holà?"
"Holà mija" your father calmly answers you, as if you were calling each other every night.
"What's happening?" you asks, not wanting to lose time.
"Nothing, I just wanted to hear you. It's been a while."
"Do I have to remind you who I got my poor lying qualities from?" you ask while bowing an eyebrow.
At the other end of the line, your father laughs softly and this makes you smile despite everything. Always a little lost, Ona questions you with a look. Unable to give her additional information at the moment, you shrug and replace tenderly one of the strands of her bun.
"Maybe, but you have your football skills from me"
"Sure. So, what's up?"
"Well... Patri called."
"Oh."
Here we are. You roll your eyes and put your phone on speakers, allowing your girlfriend to listen to the conversation. After all, she was as involved in the story as you.
"What did Lady Patri say?"
"She said that you had a fight about a random girl and that you threw her out of your apartment. And that since this day you weren't talking to her."
"Ona isn't a random girl for fuck's sake. She's my girlfriend!"
"Language young lady!"
Hearing your father take you back as you did previously almost make laugh Ona and she hides her face in your belly. It’s time for you to keep your seriousness and you bite your lip before resuming more calmly.
"She showed up at my apartment without telling me, even if we had a fight the night before and found me with Ona."
Needless to say what you were doing.
"She started yelling at me and calling me immature and she spoke to her badly, I wasn’t going to throw flowers at her anyway, was I?"
"No."
Your father’s silence lasts a few seconds and you imagine him perfectly thinking while rubbing his chin. No wonder he called you, your mother has always sided with Patri over the years. Your father is different, being the youngest of four boys, he suffered during his childhood with his big brothers. He understands perfectly your point of view and your feelings regarding Patri and her way of wanting to manage your life.
"So you have a girlfriend?"
"Yes"
Ona look back at you and you smirk, wrapping a strand of her hair around your finger.
"Since when are you both together?"
"Since the Euro, when we lost against England."
"So it's quiet serious then"
"It is Papi. I didn't want to talk about it to Patri though it's like she doesn't want me to be happy."
"I wouldn't say that, Muñeca."
You shrugs and another silence passed.
"When you say Ona, it's for Ona Batlle, verdad?"
You hums, still playing with Ona's hair.
"Oh that's good. I met her dad last summer in Australia, did you know he likes to go mushroom too?"
"I’m so glad to know you’ve got something in common with my stepfather, Papi" you laugh with Ona.
"Have you ever met him and her wife officially? I hope you made a good impression on them"
You roll your eyes one more time before giving him your answer, Ona chuckle a little before laying down on you. You relieved about this conversation, even if Patri has once again interfered in your life by mentioning your couple to your parents before doing it yourself. Your father doesn’t seem against your relationship, and he more or less informed you that your mother didn’t either. As for your other brothers and sisters, they don’t seem to care much, but that doesn’t surprise you. They were never for gossip.
********
"Can I have my kiss now?"
Smiling, you were chasing Ona along the corridors of the stadium where you train. The rain having invited itself to the party, the training ground quickly turned into fields of mud, and after a training match you found yourself thrown to the ground following a tackle of your girlfriend. That explains why your body is covered in dirt, mud and grass.
"No!" Ona laughs at you as you try to draw her against you by grabbing her by the bottom of her shirt.
She manages to escape you and starts running. Having been assigned to store the equipment, you are the last to join the changing rooms. All the others rushed to enjoy a good hot shower.
"Come on baby, at least a lovely cuddle?"
"Y/N get of of me!"
Ona isn't really running, if she wanted to escape you it would have been a long time before she would have lost you. Her speed is no longer a secret to anyone. Ona was still laughing and you grin, feeling her slap you on your hand so you drop the piece of her cloth.
"Why? It’s your fault if I’m in this state anyway"
You end up grabbing your girlfriend’s arm and pulling her against you to kiss her tenderly. Willingly letting it happen, Ona puts her arms around your neck and responds to your kiss. Knowing that no one will bother you, you gently wedge her between the wall and you. You didn’t think it could be cold and when you feel her take off quickly and shiver, you laugh softly.
"Sorry" you smile mischievously.
"More kissed and you’ll be forgiven" she whispers against your lips
You oblige easily at her request, putting your lips on hers again. Only to be interrupted by an embarrassed cough. Turning your face in the source of the sound, you discover your sister. Sighing, you take off a little of Ona, without releasing her completely.
"This is the second time, Patri. What do you want?"
"Mom would like to know if you are coming back to Palma this weekend" Patri whispers without looking at you.
You glance at Ona who is also looking at you, before answering her. The team you had to face this weekend cannot receive you because of administrative problems, the game was moved later during the season. You usually go home to your parents when you have a whole free weekend. Except this time, Ona's family invited you for Ona’s mother’s birthday and there’s no way you’re not going.
"I have already said no. Ona and I already have plans."
Patri plays nervously with her fingers before answering you. You don’t know what your mother said to her, but she seems determined to try and patch things up between you.
"Look, if it’s because of our argument…"
"Oh my God Patricia… you never learn from your mistakes?"
"What?"
She look at you, confused, and you sigh. You don't really want to talk to her, but you know that she will never let it go if you don't explain yourself.
"Not everything is about you! I can't go because we're going at Ona's Mom's birthday. Mama already knows that, are you both saying that I'm a liar now?"
"No, of course not."
"So, end of the conversation."
Without any word, you grab Ona by the hand and drag her with you in the locker room. You really need to take this shower now and forget about the interaction you just had with your sister.
********
"Are you thinking about making up with your sister or not?"
Another day, another match and you find yourself in a four-man position with Ona, Alexia and Salma. If Salma plugged in her headphones and listened to music, Ona fell asleep on your knees, leaving only you and Alexia awake for the moment.
"What do you mean?" you ask your captain curiously.
"I know you’ve never been best friends in the world, but she’s still your sister. When my father passed away, my sister and mother were my biggest support and I wouldn’t be where I am now without them."
You bite your lip thoughtfully. You have already met Alba several times and you appreciate her, she is a cheerful and devoted person to Alexia. Proud of her older sister, she doesn't mask her admiration. But what struck you every time was the way Alexia put her little sister on a pedestal. No jealousy, no unhealthy competitiveness.
"The relationship I have with Patri has nothing to do with the one you have with Alba" you point out gently.
"She's still your sister. And I know she's not perfect, but she's really trying to make the things better between you two."
You shrug your shoulders and shift your attention to the window. The train journey is long today, the opposing team being located in the north, you have almost the whole country to cross.
"If she comes to apologize, I might think about it again" you end up answering by glancing at Ona, peacefully asleep. "And not just at me."
Alexia nods with a satisfied little smile. She seems sure it’s going to happen, you’re much less so. You’ve never heard your sister apologize to anyone since she was 10, when your parents stopped asking her to apologize when something was wrong.
********
It didn’t take long for Patri to approach you and attempt reconciliation. The discussion you had with Alexia made you think a little, realizing that you may have been a little too closed to the discussion with your older sister. But you’re still hoping she’ll apologize to you first, before you tell her that maybe she was a little too cold.
You talked to Ona about it, of course. After you arrived at the hotel, you had a few hours to settle in and immediately raised the subject with your girlfriend. The latina, lulled by the love of her older brother from a young age, is obviously not against a reconciliation with Patri. She was never even angry with her, rather sad to see you tear yourself apart in this way. The catalan is definitely for family peace.
After your game, as you walk around the stadium to thank your fans and take some pictures with Lucy, you see your sister sneaking up on you, making sure she’s far enough away from the audience to talk to you.
"Would you like to come drink something with me afterwards? At the hotel restaurant?"
Surprise, you hesitate a split second by biting your lip. But when you see that Patri is about to beg you to accept, you end up nodding with a simple nod.
It’s a little nervous that you come down from your hotel room to find Patri after Ona kissed you tenderly, telling you that she is sure that everything will be fine. For your part, you just hope that no scream will ring between you two.
When you arrive, Patri is already there and beckons you to join her, which you finish by approaching with a face as relaxed as possible. You barely have time to sit down when someone come to take your order and after ordering a Coke Zero you shift your attention to your sister.
"I’m not sure where to start" Patri said, frowning.
"Maybe because of what made you ask me to come here?" you answer with a shrug.
"I don’t want to fight anymore. I know we never got along perfectly well, but it’s never been so strong"
You nod and bite your lip thoughtfully. You have to take it upon yourself to choose the right words and not provoke an argument. Because deep down, you also want things to relax with her. As Alexia said, she’s still your big sister and the same blood is in your veins.
"I’m sorry I reacted the way I did about your relationship with Ona"
You look up at her, waiting for the rest. There’s so much to discuss that you actually don’t know where to start either.
"Like you said, my first reaction was stupid and realizing that you hid your relationship for over a year because of me… First I was hurt and then I realized how stupid I was. All I wanted to do was protect you."
"I’m not three anymore, Patri. And even back then I was pissed that you wouldn’t let me do the big swing, just so you know."
A slight smile appears on your face and it is also born on the face of Patri when she realizes that you make a small touch of humor.
"I chose the wrong way. I’m sorry."
You nod again, sincerely happy to hear these words coming out of your big sister’s mouth. It's certainly time for you to tell her what you think about your behavior.
"I certainly didn’t react in the right way either. But seeing you intervene in my life regularly took away a little more patience each time. And the story with Ona was really the one thing too many, and you talked to her so bad that it drives me crazy."
"I can understand. I'll talk to her to."
Patri’s simple answer suits you once again and you relax a little, letting yourself go against the back of your chair. The night has long since fallen outside and you feel tired of the training and the match of earlier, during which you played the entire time.
"So... You and Ona, it's serious?"
You shift your attention once again to her, taking a few seconds to ensure the substance of the question before answering her.
"I’m in love with her, Patri. We managed to be close to each other when she was in Manchester but since she’s in Barcelona it’s even stronger. She’s just… I don’t know. I just know it’s her."
Patri smiled and nodded gently, before changing the subject of conversation. After about thirty minutes, without having exchanged any argument, you decide to go back to your respective rooms. You are surprised by the hug she offers you before entering her room, but you answer it nevertheless gladly.
When you arrive in your room, Ona is waiting for you, sitting at the edge of her bed. Well, one of the two beds you have glued so that you can sleep together without taking the risk of falling. Even if you always end up in each other’s arms, it remains more comfortable.
"How did it go?" asks you immediately the Catalan, her head tilted to the side to be able to better observe you.
"Good" you just answer, hoping your smile speaks for itself.
After closing the door, you approach her and sit by her side. It doesn’t take her long to grab your hand in hers and intertwine your fingers. Talking to Patri about your feelings for Ona made you realize or recall how much you love her. And how lucky you are to have her by your side. Ona is perfect for you and you love everything about her.
"What did you talk about?"
Ona’s curiosity makes you smile, but you respond willingly. After all, you never hid anything from her and you always had full and blind trust in her. That is not going to change today.
"About our childhood, the different way we see things…"
You shrug your shoulders, trying to pick up the conversation you had. It was intense but clearly necessary. You really hope that everything would be better since now.
"And about us, too" you add with a small smile.
"What did you tell her?"
"That I’m crazy about you"
Your smile gets bigger when you see Ona blushing. She also smiles and you don't waist time to break the distance between your two faces to put a kiss on her lips. It's the pure truth, even if you have never had the opportunity to reveal to her the strength of your feelings for her with simple words. You always felt like they weren’t strong enough to express how you feel about her.
"Well I hope you told her that I'm crazy about you too?" Ona smirks after the kiss.
"You can tell her later. She want to excuse herself to you too"
Ona nods, distracted by your fingers running along her hips. You didn't let her answer anything else, kissing softly her jaw and her neck, determined to celebrate your victory with her and your possible reconciliation with Patri.
********
2 Years Later
"Oh my God Patri, get out!"
A pillow flies through the room and you hear your sister laughing before she quickly closes the door. You don’t know what kind of power it is, but your sister always manages to interrupt you and Ona when things start to get interesting.
Realizing that the atmosphere is dead, you sigh and roll on your back while you were previously lying on Ona for an intense making-out session. Returning to Palma de Mallorca, to your parents for your brother’s birthday, you naturally took Ona with you. Your father loves her and your Mother seems to like her too. The bond between your families is also very good, your fathers having both quickly clicked on the many points they have in common.
"Next time we take a hotel room" you nag, making Ona laugh softly.
Smiling despite yourself, you gently lower her t-shirt that you had raised on her stomach before looking at her when she rolls on her side.
"Or we could take a small apartment here. I really like this place and if we want to change from Barcelona some days we would just jump on the plane. Not even an hour and we’re here."
"Why not" you smile softly.
She smiles back at you when you stroke her face tenderly, drawing imaginary features between her freckles. More than three years have passed and you will never get tired of her. The little box containing the ring you planned to propose to her with tonight is neatly hidden in one of your pairs of socks and you’ve actually booked a room in a local palace for the night. It's indeed out of question to celebrate your engagement in your parents' house, with your sister’s weasel or your nephews and nieces ready to land at any time in your childhood room.
"Do you want to go for a walk on the beach?" you innocently ask Ona.
"I’d go anywhere with you" smiled Ona and you kissed her one last time before you got out of bed.
You discreetly take the box and the ring, sliding it in the pocket of your jeans before joining Ona who awaits you in the corridor.
"I forgot my phone" you’re just answering her questioning look.
You take a look at it and Patri’s message informs you that everything is in place. She’s supposed to take your proposal in photo and video, so that you have a memory of that moment. All Ona has to say is yes. Despite your stress, you know her answer will be positive.
Walking hand in hand, you got lost in your thoughts and Ona is quiet too. But a glance at her informs you that she is smiling and relaxed. Her gaze on the sea returns to you and she addresses you an interrogative glance.
"Are you all right?"
You just nod with a smile, busy remembering the speech you prepared. Despite your certainty, you feel that anxiety is gaining ground and you are happy to see that the place you have designated to Patri is finally there.
"Actually, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about" you start, interrupting your walk.
In the distance, hidden behind a rock, Patri draws her camera when she sees you stop. The video is already on and your big sister is as stressed as you. If she misses what you asked her to do, she could be banned from marriage.
It's with a tender smile that Patri watches the questioning read on Ona’s face, followed by tenderness when you make your statement to her and surprise when she sees you kneeling, the famous ring presented in its case. The following photos contain the moment when you pass the ring on her finger, the one where the latin jumps at your neck and the last is that of your first kiss as fiancées.
Ona said yes, of course.
Because You and Her are forever.
#woso x reader#woso imagine#ona batlle#ona batlle x reader#ona batlle imagine#patri guijarro#patri guijarro imagine
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Hi! Could you do an imagine where dean and sam have a younger sister and she has a nightmare and ends up sleeping between her brothers?
omg, sorry for the delay, I really was lacking creativity!!
You can make a request in the comments or by asking me a question!
(Please don't be shy to ask, I'm very happy when I have a request to write)
You can see the list of who I write about here
"The Monster Is Gone"
Pairing(s): Dean/Sam Winchester x Sister Reader
Gender: Angst, fluffy
Warnings: Nightmares, monsters, lots of blood and disturbing writing for more sensitive readers
——————♥︎♥︎——————
My childhood memories were never clear, only blurry images and meaningless phrases wandered through my mind when I tried hard to remember.
A part of me thanks my brain for not allowing me to remember, since I knew the images would be too disturbing for a budding teenager, but when Dad went hunting, disappeared and I had to be under the care of my older brothers during the hunts, everything changed.
I still remember when I had the first memory, it was after a hunt where a student came back from the dead seeking revenge. We were in the car, Dean was driving, and Sam was by his side, in silence while I was in the back seat, still processing the information of the case when the memory came. A blonde woman in pajamas ran through the hallways of a house with a child in her arms, who I soon realized was me.
Over the next few days, I began to dream about it, and as the dreams went on, the images became clearer. One day I realized it was nighttime, and the girl carrying me was wearing red pajamas. Two days later, I realized that the pajamas weren't red, they were white, but they were stained with blood. It was on that day that I started to avoid sleeping as much as possible, afraid of finding out whose blood was on her clothes.
That was 4 months ago, and during that time, each day that passed I saw a little more of that night, and now I knew that the woman was my mother, and the blood on her clothes was my father's, but the worst part was knowing that there was something following me and my mother.
I never told my brothers about this, I know they would be worried, and we have too many things to worry about, like ghosts and demons, and I didn't want to take their minds off work.
We were coming back from a hunt, Dean was driving, Sam was in the passenger seat sleeping, and I was in the back seat, trying my best to avoid falling asleep, but the book I had in my hands to keep me awake wasn't working, and little by little, I rested my head against the window, and fell asleep.
And there I was, crying in my mother's lap while she held me against her chest, with her body against the door, the thing that was chasing us walked calmly through the hallways, and slowly reached behind the door where we were. He knocked once. My mother put her hand over her mouth to keep from making noise. He knocked a second time. I could feel my mother's hands shaking. The third knock was so loud that my mother was pushed from the door, detaching me from her body. When we looked back, he was there.
He was tall, had no face, just a blood-stained mouth and sharp teeth. His fingers were long, and his nails were also stained with blood, just like the black suit he was wearing.
My mother, in an attempt to protect me, pushed me against the wall and covered me with her body, making a human shield. I could feel her tears wetting my pink pajamas as I heard her scream.
"NOT MY DAUGHTER, PLEASE! SHE'S JUST A CHILD"
In response, he let out a frightening laugh. In a few seconds, he pulled my mother and threw her to the floor, while she tried to fight, but the thing was strong and held her without effort. The next scene was the worst.
He opened his mouth, showing his huge teeth and then immediately struck her neck, making blood gush all over the room.
I watched that scene, cowering and scared in the corner of the room while I screamed, begging him to let my mother go, but that must have made him feel even hungrier for her, since he raised his long arm and struck her belly, cutting her skin with his sharp nails.
At that moment, I looked at my mother, who was staring at me with her lifeless eyes, wet with tears of pain.
"Y/N! Y/N, wake up!" I heard a voice call out
"Wake up! You need to wake up!" Again, and this time, louder.
At that moment I woke up. Sweaty, with irregular breathing and a dry throat. I looked ahead and saw Dean and Sam looking at me. We were stopped on a dark road.
"Is everything okay?" Dean asks, meanwhile, Sam opens the car door and gets out, opening the back one and getting in, sitting next to me.
"Okay, sure." I answer nervously, trying to compose myself.
"It didn't seem okay while you were screaming," Sam says, handing me a bottle of water, which I gladly accept.
"It was just a dream, I'm fine." I try to convince them, but by their faces, it hadn't worked.
"If it was just a dream, I'm even afraid to know your nightmares," Dean says and starts driving again.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Sam whispers in my ear, and I try to hold back the tears, while I just nod my head in agreement.
"There's a motel a few minutes from here, we'll spend the night there," Dean says and continues down the road.
It doesn't take long until we arrive at the motel. It was a classic roadside motel, but it was enough.
Dean and Sam get a single room for the two of them, and one for me.
I didn't plan on sleeping that night, so when the boys went to their rooms, I grabbed some snacks from a vending machine and went to my room, turning on the TV to a channel that was showing a series, with the intention of distracting myself from the memories.
I manage not to think about my dreams for 2 or 3 hours, but at one point, sleep begins to set in, and little by little my eyes close, but I always realize that I am about to fall asleep, and I wake up with a jolt. I turn off the television and go to the bathroom.
I take off the clothes I was wearing and get in the shower. The hot water hits the tense muscles in my shoulders and relaxes them in a few seconds. I close my eyes and throw my head back, wetting my hair and face. I massage my scalp with the intention of relaxing, but I quickly tense up when I feel a sudden cold, despite the hot water.
I step out of the shower and dry my eyes with my hands, and when I look at the curtain, I can see the shadow of something behind it. Something very similar to the Being from my memories.
With my heart racing and my breathing irregular, I open the curtain in a quick movement, but relax when I find nothing on the other side.
I turn off the shower, still confused and scared by what happened before, and put on some warm pajamas.
I think about lying back down on the bed and watching the series again, but I look at the bedside table and see the spare key to my brothers' room that Sam gave me in case of an emergency.
Without thinking much, I grab the key and go to the next room, unlocking it slowly, not wanting to alarm the boys.
I open the door and close it behind me, when I turn around, I see Sam, still awake, sitting on the couch that was in the room with a book in his hand.
"Hi, did something happen?" He says quietly and puts the book aside, coming to me.
"I'm scared." My eyes fill with tears and I hug him. I feel his big arms holding me tightly, bringing me closer to his chest.
"It's okay, little one. I'm here." He kisses the top of my head as I sob against his soft shirt.
"Come, lie down with us." He pulls away and goes to the bed.
"Dean, go over there." He pokes Dean's shoulder, making him wake up half-dazed and ready to curse his brother, but stops when he sees me crying next to the bed.
Dean pulls away and I lay down next to him, Sam laying down next to me, making me be between the two of them.
"You're safe with us," Dean whispers, going back to sleep.
"You don't have to tell me what you're afraid of, but know that I'm here for you when you're ready to tell me," Sam whispers behind me.
"I'm having dreams. Actually, they're not dreams, they're memories from my childhood, before Dad adopted me. In these memories, a monster or whatever it was killed my father and mother, right in front of me."
"You don't have to be afraid. Dad told us about this story. He came when the monster was on top of your mother and killed it before it had a chance to hurt you. Sleep, and don't worry about your dreams, the monster is gone, it's dead, and your brothers are here to protect you from anything."
#sam winchester#dean winchester#supernatural#supernatural one shot#sister reader#sam and dean#dean winchester x sister!reader#sam winchester x sister!reader#the winchester brothers#john winchester#female reader#oneshot#fluffy#imagine#supernatural imagine#x daughter!reader#castiel#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x y/n#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester x you#sam winchester x you#teen reader#supernatural x reader#supernatural x you#one shot#sister#big brother#x female reader
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WE'RE DONE WITH BOOK 2!!! THIS IS IT!!! Time for one last recap for Harrowcita ♥
previously, in harrowcita del 9:
this happened
CHAPTER 52
last we've seen of Team Gideon (this is Team Gideon, Team Harrow is coming and going from the river rn), mercygirl had decimated dr reverend emperor john
popped him like a piñata
mercygirl and augustine start talking about how everything's gonna go directly to shit now without the guy, since the houses existed because of him, etc.
they have some sort of hope on finding somewhere they can go stay at, maybe
they hug and augustine says something like he wants to be buried beside her, so they can hate each other eternally
I love what they've got going on tbh they're soulmates in hate, new form of eternal bond just dropped
gideon the first is about to tell them something, but they're interrupted by light
gideon starts describing that red dust becomes blood and then becomes body things and I'm like "nonononononono"
BUT I'M NOT THAT LUCKY
GUESS WHO'S BACK
DOCTOR REVEREND EMPEROR JOHN IS NOT DEAD
LPM [in south american spanish]
packing back all my celebratory party supplies
so he immediately murders mercygirl upon returning
rip girl, you really tried and that's more than I can say for a lot of people
who are in this room rn
emperor asshat takes mercy's robe from her body and puts it on
he says "hope the sixth house didn't get cooked in the flare"
"I never like cleaning house all at once, but it seems as though I have to, don't I ?"
so...is this a frequent thing? killing all your lyctors? replacing them with others by making them slurp their cavaliers once in a while? acting like there's no other way around it?
the emperor does that asshole thing
he starts asking them if they'll be loyal to him and, if they say no, he's gonna kill them
all very democratic and whatnot
apparently beasts can't kill him and he was acting afraid, in case you needed more reasons to hate him and whatnot
he calls gideon the first "gideon episode one", so that's also a genetic trait, aside from the eyes
gideon the first says he's gonna be loyal
gideon the first is taking things very calmly, but we'll see what's going on with that in a sec
also, the emperor asked gideon the first to kill harrow
because he's still buying numbers for the ass-kicking raffle I've got going on
it isn't at all a surprise, not just because another addition to the silver platter of bullshit he has done, at this point, doesn't really change much, but also because he was not doing anything about the harrow-aimed violence at any point, so
gideon (ours) goes "go to hell, pops"
he's bummed about gideon the first "killing" wake and is going to spare gideon's life, even if she doesn't want to be loyal to him
yandere twin pledges loyalty (we'll come back to this later)
and augustine goes "fuck you, john"
those aren't his words but that's what I heard in my head when I read it
then, the entire emperor's bolthole starts tilting to the side and in goes the whole thing into the river
at this point, I was remembering that the emperor mentioned there was a layer in the river, in the cylinder schematics mercygirl had drawn, in which he was powerless
so I was hoping and wishing for this to be the plan
gideon the first takes our gideon, trying to save her from the whole river situation, since she isn't a necro and there's not much she can do about it
so, since the emperor's bolthole went straight into the river, they've entered with their whole body, soul and etc.
fully dressed in flesh
gideon the first goes "wish he'd given me the packet"
???????
augustine and the emperor are wrestling homoerotically into the river
with yandere twin trailing behind them
so gideon asks gideon Sr to do something, since he's a necromancer
and gideon Sr says he isn't actually gideon Sr....
IT'S PYRRHA THE CAVALIER
turns out gideon Sr died in the fight against the beast
battle he was fighting with "mad sweetheart matthias"
♥
pyrrha has been living in gideon Sr this whole time, kinda like gideon and harrow, but with less finesse
and pyrrha ALSO had an affair with wake using gideon Sr's body
but there's no time to unpack the insane amount of luggage gideon is gaining from this whole encounter with her entire family tree
because augustine's plan was indeed to throw the emperor into the bit of river he can't defend himself in
but the entrance looks a bit like this thing from inuyasha, only that's a lot bigger
augustine and the emperor are still homoerotically pulling each other on their way down to the mouth, that's extending tongues to lick at them
it's probably a familiar scenario for them, only in a bigger scale
gideon and pyrrha are trying to decide if they wanna die by a bullet, by this whole thing that's going on in here or in the river
according to pyrrha, gideon's mom would have taken the bullet
but not gideon
gideon is gonna see this thing through, dammit
she's also having an existential crisis the size of the emperor's bolthole because life was simple before, it was just harrow and the dusty ninth, and now there's a family tree, she's a child of multiple divorces and she was born to blow up
so, gideon sees that yandere twin is close to augustine and dr rev emperor john, which means she can probably help augustine out and push the emperor in
BUT THAT'S NOT WHAT SHE DOES, NO
NO NO NO NO
WHAT SHE DOES
IS TO BE THE WORST
OF COURSE, YOU VALIDATION-SEEKING ASSHOLE, OF COURSE YOU'RE GONNA DO THAT
"uwu you're the emperor's favorite, harry" "at least augustine pays attention to me, harry" "the emperor loves you, harry" "you have it easy because you're the emperor's pet, harry"
GET OUT OF MY FACE YOU TRAITOROUS THIRD HOUSE ATTENTION-SEEKING TIM-BURTON-BLONDE-AND-PALE LEAD
YOU AND CHAD CAN GO STRAIGHT TO THE FANG-FILLED MOUTH OF HELL
I'M FUMING
I'M GONNA BITE HER ARM OFF AND RIP IT FROM HER BODY ALL OVER AGAIN
AND I'M GONNA SPIT IT RIGHT AT THE EMPEROR'S FACE
ANYWAY, BACK TO THE RECAP
gideon is being very poetic about harrow in what she thinks might be the last moments of her life
again
"at the end of everything, if it was going to be you and me, layered over each other as we always were"
♥
but in comes ice cube barbie to...save the day?????
idk, at this point
people's intentions are blurry
"your bullshit dead girlfriend had come to claim you"
gideon says she speaks "in the wrong voice twice removed" and that she's trying to do CPR on her
to some extent, because her sternum is shattered, apparently
or harrow's, I guess
so, who knows what's gonna come out of this
CHAPTER 53
this one happens half an hour before the other stuff
for the timeline that I'm still somewhat keeping, hanging by a thread, as is my sanity
Team Harrow is currently just consisting of harrowcita, the reverend kitten, and real!dulcinea
the super important info real!dulcinea said she needed to tell harrow is that what's using harrow's body isn't a spirit or a revenant
her body isn't being puppeted, something is moving it around and it isn't a fragment or a ghost
because it doesn't feel like awake will the real slim shady please stand up
is this gideon???? does it mean gideon is more than a ghost?????
real!dulcinea is like "idk what you can do with that info but that's not up to me anymore, bye~"
and harrow goes "there's a difference between keeping a shred of dance card and saving the last dance"
IS THIS HOPE???? ARE WE HANGING ONTO HOPE????
I SURE AM
so, into the river goes harrow
(if you wanna reblog onto better things harrow, this is the post)
there's the corridor from the last time
and she ends up in the locked tomb
always back to the tomb
wonder why the series is called that
but there's nobody in the actual tomb
chains are broken and there's the two-handed sword that the sleeper waker slasher awake love the way you lie had with her
harrow goes to mimir in the tomb
but in she finds...
P*RN
apparently it's a gideon originally imagined piece of high quality fifth house erotica
of course it is
EPILOGUE
six months after the "emperor's murder"
I DON'T THINK HE'S DEAD THOUGH
YANDERE TWIN DECIDED TO RUIN THINGS BECAUSE SHE CAN'T DEAL WITH AUTHORITY REJECTION OR WHATEVER
DON'T MAKE ME GET INTO THIS AGAIN
MY BLOOD PRESSURE CAN'T TAKE IT
sixth house skull though, we love to see that
so there's a "she"
who is being taken care of by three people
one is teaching her how to do necromancy, another how to use a sword and another is taking care of her
maiden, mother and crone
my first bet was judith, regina george twin and camilla
undetermined, though
idk why judith would be helpful, but those are three people we know of that were alive and kickin'
they're eating nice food but when a vendor makes a comment about how "she" should have been hurt by the hot food and she wasn't, they decide to ghost that vendor forever
they're somewhere around soldiers and gunfights
this "she" perspective then starts waxing poetic about the person who takes care of her
and asks "have you worked out who I am?"
and CAMILLA answers "not yet"
WHAT A HOPEFUL THING TO END WITH
THE BOOK ENDS WITH A LIE, THOUGH????
"the tomb will open in alecto the ninth"
gonna have to wait a whole other book for the tomb to open, I guess
harrow's taking a long nap
she deserves it
@lady-harrowhark told me the situation of the book releases when I mentioned how I thought this was a trilogy that had ended and she had to give the "oh, sweet summer child" explanation
who the fuck is nona though
is this "she" nona? maybe it is
she's smiling in the cover, which is already an oddity, but if she's been taking care of by camilla, that's a good reason to smile forever
I NEED TO STOP THEORIZING
ANYWAY, this is it for Harrowcita Del Nueve!!!! The adventure continues, though, because the hiatus I went in allowed me to get Nona beforehand and I already have a cute bookmark for her that my sister gifted me. See you in the next one!!!!
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"Underwater delightment"
Happy Tech Tuesday!!
These past couple of days I've had the great pleasure to work on @vivaislenska's request!
I thought it was obvious that Tech would, at a certain point, craft himself a diving mask and goggles, and explore Pabu's reefs (because Pabu has reefs, it is canon now) in order to learn about its extensive marine wildlife beyond the screen of his datapad! His scuba session takes him through a colorful arrange of corals, anemones sponges, fish, and... "...a Hapalochlaena lunulata rubra!?" Tech excitedly thinks to himself. The odds of finding the harmless red-ringed octopus, cousin of the blue-ringed octopus were minimal, and far beyond Tech's expectations! He would have to dive back to the surface right away to note the date and time to commemorate such a momentous occasion! But this little cephalopod was not afraid of Tech, and time seemed to freeze as they stared, completely fascinated at each other. His notes could most certainly wait.
This piece came out fairly naturally and I'm very happy with the result ^^ And even happier to have gotten the ask in the first place. So THANK YOU VIV!! ♥
This sketch is a bit more detailed than what I usually make, so don't mind the taglist ;V;!♥ (and let me know if you'd like to be included!<;3)
@dukeoftheblackstar @justalittletomato @darthmaulshispanichousewife @botherbother-blog @aftergloom @badolmen @ihaventpickedausername @ohboi @stardustbee @nik-barinova @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @gen-has-green-vibes @ejfivercommander @herbalinz-of-yesteryear @eyecandyeoz @noesqape @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @staycalmandhugaclone @callmesunny04 @freesia-writes @ginnymilling @sunshinesdaydream @blueink-bluesoul @cloneloverrrrr @moon-wrecked @idontgetanysleep @tech-aficionado @followthepurrgil @renton6echo @queen-jiru @shoe-bag @eyayah123 @eloquentmoon @and-loth-cat @ladyzirkonia @stardusthuntress @bambambunny @morphofan @gt13tbbart
#star wars#the bad batch#clone wars#tbb tech#tech tbb#bad batch tech#tech bad batch#clone force 99#the beach batch#tech tuesday#tbb tech tuesday#my art
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Hello, can I request Yandere Thor, Odin Poseidon, and Hades from the record of Ragnarok, please? Those four are my favorite characters in the show.
• Yanderes || Thor (couldn’t think of anything else for the other characters my apologies).
• CW || nothing major, general non-specific headcanons.
• note || absolutely!! It’s been a while since I wrote for this character so I’m a little rough. Thank you for sending in this request ♡︎
- 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫
♥︎ Thor is unusually quiet, uncharacteristically quiet. It wasn’t his usual demeanor, yet, if not for Shiva’s watchful eyes. He never would’ve figured out the trepidation that lied between you and the thunder god. He wondered how this came to be, this unhealthy chains of a bond had borne.
♥︎ Thor casts off worry to the god of destruction, underlying despair as if he was waiting at any moment for something to be ripped away from the very foundation of his being. Shiva wonders what is happening between the both of you, those watchful eyes of yours alluring to each and every shadow, as if you were afraid and waiting for someone to come out of them. Shiva is wonderful when it came to relationships, he would like to think so, he was considered a very good husband by his wives after all. So he considers how he could be of help to the two of you. Shiva simply wonders what is wrong, you are a friend of his after all. He worries.
♥︎ This side to the thunder god had somewhat given Shiva surprise, he sneaks in, and around to check on you. He checks every corridor of Thor’s place of residence, he usually sees you here every time he comes by. ‘How odd’ He thinks to himself. It takes perhaps a considerable amount of time before he finally finds you, shouting your name across the hallways. Hearing audible shouts for help.
"Shiv-"
A cough, another one follows.
He was wide-eyed in surpise, even given pause in his steps before he continued forward to find the source of your voice. "Hey [Name]!" The destruction god shouts, stopping in his tracks once again to strain for your voice.
"Here! Please help me." He followed your plead without a second thought, finally finding where you found yourself in trouble. Shiva's second pair of arms open the door while his first pair had him scrambling for you, seeing your deflated form on the floor. He finds his heart tightened in pain, seeing one of his dear friends like this was no fun way to meet.
His first pair of arms lift under your own, lifting you up and sitting you on the ground now. Shiva's lips pursed in quiet concern, his expressed tone coming off in tendrils of worry, "What happened to ya?" He finally asks, his second pair of arms crossing together as he steadied himself to find calm.
Your face appeared to be oh so, tired, tired of about everything at this very moment. Even if you wished, you couldn't escape it. You didn't want this at all, that thunder god's twisted love. That heart of his was so soft and sweet in the beginning, now it had bone-crushed, into something worse. Your hands find purchase in his legs, trying to upright yourself without feeling your body dragged down by mental weight and back-handed words. Too much had happened, far too much.
Shiva winces as you suddenly almost fell, his two upfront hands coming to fence you from it actually happening in the process. He sighs, "Take it easy."
The words were hard to find, your voice coming off weary and cautious. "He, didn't let me off easy." A brow raises, his emotions swirling tremendously in the pit of his stomach. Worry makes room for fear, and soft anger at the subject you mentioned. "Thor kept me here for far too long."
The god of destruction inhales a sharp breath, seeing your worn and weary state, as if it were exploded by the thousand shards of shrapnel.
Now it suddenly made sense.
The thunder god's behavior, the snappy remarks at the mention of you. Why you had been left at the word of a disppearance for quite some time now.
"Hey, you don't gotta worry about him anymore." He says after the moments of silence, settling you between his arms as he carries you in the manner of a bride. Shiva shoots you a tiny smile, "You hear?"
The god of destruction was gonna have a serious talk with Thor, no matter how powerful he may be.
- 𝐎𝐝𝐢𝐧
#record of ragnorak#record of ragnarok#record of ragnarok x reader#ror x reader#ror x you#ror x y/n#thor record of ragnarok#thor ror#thor x reader#thor x you#odin record of ragnarok#Odin ror#Odin x reader#poseidon#poseidon record of ragnarok#poseidon ror#poseidon x reader#hades record of ragnarok#hades ror#hades x reader#yandere x reader#yandere x you
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𝒟𝐸𝒱𝐼𝐿'𝒮 𝒯𝐸𝑀𝒫𝒯𝑅𝐸𝒮𝒮-𝐹𝒜𝒯𝐻𝐸𝑅 𝒞𝐻𝒜𝑅𝐿𝐼𝐸 𝑀𝒜𝒴𝐻𝐸𝒲
𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕡𝕙𝕖𝕞𝕪 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕞𝕦𝕥
𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪 In a quiet town, Father Charlie Mayhew is drawn to Y/N, a mysterious woman who embodies temptation. Despite his vows, he succumbs to her seduction in a passionate encounter.
✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮
In the quiet town, whispers of a new, seductive presence had been echoing through the cobblestone streets. It was said that she was the epitome of temptation, a creature of unearthly beauty that could make even the most pious of men stumble in their faith. Her name was Y/N, and she had arrived like a storm, bringing with her a wave of lustful desires that no one could resist.
Father Charlie Mayhew, the town's beloved priest, had heard the rumors but had not yet laid eyes on this mysterious woman. His days were filled with the mundane tasks of the parish: hearing confessions, tending to the sick, and offering guidance to his devoted flock. Yet, at night, as he knelt before the cross in his dimly lit chamber, he couldn't help but feel the weight of his own desires, desires that he had sworn to bury beneath his vestments.
One fateful evening, as he walked through the town's cemetery, tending to the graves and offering prayers for the souls interred there, he heard the faint sound of laughter. It was a laugh that seemed to resonate with a dark allure, one that seemed to beckon him closer. Curiosity piqued, he followed the sound until it led him to the most unexpected of places: the very heart of the cemetery, where a woman, dressed in a crimson dress that clung to her curves like a lover's embrace, sat atop the highest mausoleum.
Y/N looked down at him with a knowing smile, her eyes gleaming with a mischief that made Father Charlie's heart race. "You're a curious one," she purred, her voice a siren's call that seemed to echo through the silent night. "I've been waiting for someone like you to come along, someone who knows the true price of temptation."
Father Charlie, though he knew better, couldn't help but be drawn to her. She was everything that was forbidden, everything he had been taught to reject. Yet, as he approached, he found himself questioning his vows, his beliefs, and his very nature.
"Who are you?" he managed to ask, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation.
Y/N slid off the mausoleum, landing gracefully before him. She leaned in, her warm breath tickling his ear. "I'm your deepest, darkest desires, given form," she murmured. "And tonight, I'm going to show you the pleasures that await those who dare to indulge in them."
Father Charlie felt a shiver run down his spine as she spoke, and he knew that he was standing before the embodiment of sin. Yet, as she reached out to caress his cheek, his resolve began to crumble like the ancient stones that surrounded them.
"You don't have to be afraid," she said, her eyes filled with a fiery passion. "Give in to me, and I'll show you what it's like to truly live."
With those words, she leaned in, and their lips met in a kiss that seemed to burn with the fire of a thousand suns. It was a kiss that promised untold pleasure and eternal damnation, and in that moment, Father Charlie knew he was lost. He had invited the devil herself into his heart, and he was ready to pay the price.
Her hands began to explore his body, pulling at the fabric of his priestly vestments. The weight of his collar felt heavier than ever before, a stark contrast to the lightness that her touch brought to him. He could feel the heat of her skin through the barriers that separated them, and he knew that she was not just any woman. Her touch was electric, leaving trails of desire in its wake as she traced her way down to his chest.
Her kiss grew more urgent, and soon she was guiding him backward, down the steps of the mausoleum and into the shadowy embrace of the cemetery. The cool grass felt like a balm against his fevered skin as they lay together, her body pressing against his, her legs entwining with his own.
Father Charlie's hands, which had once offered comfort and solace to the faithful, now roamed over her satin smooth skin, seeking out the curves and valleys that lay beneath. He could feel her respond to his touch, her breath hitching in her throat as he explored her. The scent of her arousal filled the air, a sweet and heady aroma that clouded his senses and made it impossible to think of anything but the passion that burned between them.
Y/N reached up and began to unbutton his shirt, her eyes never leaving his. He felt the fabric part, exposing his bare chest to the cool night air. Her hands, soft yet insistent, slid over his torso, her nails leaving faint trails of fire as they danced over his skin. His own hands found the zipper of her dress, and together, they shed their last layers of resistance.
Their bodies came together in a fiery union, their movements driven by a primal instinct that neither could control. The moon cast a soft glow over them, illuminating the sweat that glistened on their skin as they moved in a dance as old as time itself. The whispers of the wind through the headstones seemed to echo their cries of pleasure, as if the very earth itself was a silent witness to their transgressions.
Father Charlie had never felt such ecstasy, such all-consuming need. He had devoted his life to the worship of purity, but now, in the arms of the devil, he knew true rapture. He could feel his faith slipping away like grains of sand through his fingers, replaced by a desire that was more potent than any holy water could ever be.
Her eyes, once filled with mischief, now held a look of intense passion as she rode him, her hips moving in a rhythm that seemed to match the beating of his heart. He could feel the power of her, the seductive energy that had drawn him in from the start, wrapping around him like a lover's embrace.
"You're mine," she growled, her voice a dark whisper against his neck. "Say it."
"I'm yours," he gasped, his voice hoarse with desire.
Y/N threw her head back and laughed, a sound that was both erotic and terrifying. "Good boy," she murmured, her teeth grazing his earlobe. "Now, tell me how much you want me."
Father Charlie could feel the words forming on his lips before he even knew what he was saying. "I want you so badly, it hurts," he confessed, his hands tightening on her hips. "I need you, all of you."
Her response was a feral grin, and she leaned in, her breasts brushing against his chest as she whispered, "You're going to get everything you want, Father. And more."
With that, she increased her pace, her movements growing more urgent as she took him deeper within her. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he could feel himself losing control, the barriers between his faith and his desires crumbling away with every thrust.
The dirt and grass beneath them became a blur as they moved together, their bodies slick with sweat and need. He could feel her tightening around him, her nails digging into his skin as she approached her climax. "Say it again," she demanded, her voice a purr that seemed to resonate in his very soul. "Tell me how much you need this."
"I need you," he moaned, his voice breaking. "I need you so much."
Her response was a guttural growl, and she threw her head back, arching her back as her orgasm crashed over her. The sight of her, lost in pleasure, was almost too much for him to bear, and with a final, desperate push, he followed her over the edge.
As they lay there, panting and spent, the reality of what he had done began to seep in. He had given in to temptation, had taken the forbidden fruit that had been offered by the very essence of sin. Yet, as he looked into Y/N's eyes, all he could feel was a strange, twisted sense of peace.
"Forever and always." she murmured, her voice still thick with desire.
Father Charlie knew that she was right, that he had made a pact that could never be broken. But as the darkness closed in around him, he couldn't help but wonder if this was truly the end, or if it was just the beginning of a much longer, more decadent journey.
Their bodies still entangled, they lay in the cemetery, surrounded by the silent judgement of the dead. Yet, in this moment, neither cared about the consequences of their actions. They were lost in the throes of passion, two souls dancing on the edge of damnation, consumed by a lust that was as ancient as it was eternal.
Her eyes, once a sparkling green, now glowed a fiery red, a stark contrast to the pale moonlight. It was a sight that should have sent Father Charlie reeling with terror, but instead, it only served to fuel his desire. Those eyes, filled with a power that could corrupt the purest of hearts, bore into his very soul, and he felt himself falling even deeper under her spell.
Y/N leaned in, her breath hot against his cheek. "Look at me," she ordered, her voice a seductive command that he couldn't resist. He turned his head, and their gazes locked. The red in her eyes was mesmerizing, a pool of desire and darkness that threatened to consume him whole.
"You belong to me now." she whispered, her fingertips tracing the contours of his face.
Father Charlie could feel the gravity of her words, the weight of his decision pressing down upon him. He knew that he should have been repentant, that he should have been begging for forgiveness, but all he could do was nod in silent agreement. The devil had claimed him, and he had willingly offered himself up as a sacrifice.
Her smile grew wider, a wicked grin that showed off the sharp points of her teeth. "Good," she murmured. "Now, let's see how far you're willing to go."
Her hand slid down his chest and found his already hardening cock, her grip firm and confident. She began to stroke him, her movements deliberate and precise. Each touch was a brand, a mark of ownership that seared into his very being.
"I can give you everything you've ever wanted," she said, her voice a sweet temptation that was impossible to ignore. "All you have to do is ask."
He knew he should resist, that he should find the strength to push her away, but his body betrayed him. "More," he breathed, his hips rising to meet her hand. "Please, more."
Her laughter was like music, a symphony of sin that played in his ears and set his blood on fire. "As you wish," she said, her eyes flashing red as she leaned in for another kiss, one that promised an eternity of pleasure and pain.
Their lips met once more, and Father Charlie felt himself falling into an abyss of desire, one that had no bottom, no end. He was hers, and he knew that there was no turning back. He had made a deal with the devil, and he would revel in the delights of the damned for all eternity.
As their kiss deepened, she rolled him onto his back, her body straddling his once holy form. Her eyes never left his, the red glow never dimming as she began to move against him, her hips rocking in a slow, sensual rhythm.
He could feel the power of her, the seductive energy that had ensnared him from the moment he had first set eyes on her. It was like nothing he had ever encountered before, and he was utterly powerless to resist.
Her hands roamed over his chest, her nails leaving trails of fire as she touched him. Each caress was a brand, a mark of his submission, and he reveled in the pain and pleasure that she brought him.
With every movement, her eyes grew brighter, the red glow becoming more intense. It was as if she was feeding off his very soul, drawing power from his every moan and gasp. He didn't care. He wanted more, needed more, and he would give her anything she demanded.
Their bodies moved as one, their passion a dance that was both sacred and profane. The cemetery around them seemed to come alive with the energy of their union, the very earth trembling beneath them.
Father Charlie felt himself building to the brink once more, his body tightening with the promise of release. And as he climaxed, her eyes flashed a brilliant, blinding red, and he knew that he had truly given himself over to the devil.
Her eyes remained fixed on his, the crimson glow a constant reminder of the inferno that now burned within him. He could feel the flames of her gaze searing into his very core, branding him as her own.
Suddenly, from the depths of his shattered conviction, a flicker of defiance sparked. The image of the cross he had been carrying, now discarded in the dirt beside them, flashed through his mind. With a strength born of desperation, Father Charlie reached for the holy symbol, grasping it in a hand trembling with the weight of his decision.
Y/N, caught in the throes of passion, noticed his sudden movement but was too lost in the moment to realize the gravity of his action. With a swiftness that belied his clerical garb, he raised the cross high above his head and brought it crashing down upon her, the metal digging into her flesh with a sickening crunch.
The laughter that had been bubbling from her lips turned to a scream of agony, and the red glow in her eyes was replaced by shock and disbelief. The force of his blow had driven the cross into her heart, and the power of the sacred artifact pulsed through her, a blessed light that began to consume the darkness that was her very essence.
Her body convulsed, writhing in pain as the cross burned away the layers of seduction and deceit that had cloaked her true form. The alluring visage of temptation morphed into something far more terrifying, a creature of twisted flesh and gnashing teeth, her once-beautiful skin now a mottled mess of burning, bubbling corruption.
Father Charlie watched in horror as the creature that had once been his seductress writhed and screamed before him, her eyes now a solid, unblinking black. He knew that he had done what was necessary, that he had sent this demon back to the hell from whence she came.
Yet, even in the face of such unspeakable evil, his body continued to respond to her, his cock still hard and demanding. It was as if the very essence of sin had become a part of him, a part that he could never truly purge from his soul.
The demonic creature that had been Y/N let out a final, guttural howl as the last vestiges of her power were expunged by the holy relic. Her body began to disintegrate before his very eyes, the flesh sloughing away to reveal the charred bones beneath.
The priest felt a mix of relief and revulsion wash over him as the creature's grip on his soul was broken. Yet, even as the demon's essence dissipated into the night air, the taste of her remained on his lips, a bitter reminder of the price he had paid for his moment of weakness.
The cross, once a symbol of salvation, now felt heavy in his hand, stained by the blood of the creature he had killed. The reality of what he had done weighed on him, and he knew that he could never confess this sin to his congregation, never seek absolution for the darkness that now dwelled within his own heart.
He looked down at his ruined vestments, the fabric torn and soiled by the very essence of evil. He knew that he could never be the same man again, never stand before the altar with the same purity of spirit. Yet, in that moment of profound realization, he also understood that his battle was far from over.
The devil had sent its minion to corrupt him, and though he had emerged the victor in this skirmish, the war for his soul had just begun. The town once a bastion of faith, now held a secret that could shake its very foundations to the core.
Father Charlie Mayhew, the man who had killed the devil's temptress, was forever changed. The whispers of the town had become a scream of truth, a siren's song that would echo through his nightmares for the rest of his days.
But he was not broken. He was a soldier of God, and though the enemy had scored a victory, he had not claimed him entirely. With the cross still in hand, he made a silent vow to himself and to his maker: he would fight on, he would seek redemption, and he would never let the darkness consume him again.
The night was still and silent once more, the cemetery a tableau of shadows and stone. Yet, in the heart of the priest who had stared into the abyss and lived to tell the tale, a new fire burned, one that was fueled by the knowledge that he had faced a demon and won. Father Charlie knew that the devil had not disappeared; it had merely retreated, waiting for the next opportunity to claim what it believed was its rightful property.
He stood, his legs unsteady, and stumbled back to the church, the cross clutched tightly in his hand. The sacred ground felt cold and unyielding beneath his feet, as if even it knew of his transgression. As he approached the heavy oak doors, he could almost hear the whispers of his congregation, the voices of those who had entrusted him with their souls, calling out for guidance and salvation.
In the dim light of the confessional, he knelt before the crucifix, the weight of his sin a leaden burden upon his shoulders. Yet, as he began to pray, the words seemed hollow, the ritual a mockery of his own weakness. He knew that he could never confess what had occurred, not without risking the very faith that held his community together.
The following days were a blur of guilt and doubt. Father Charlie threw himself into his work, hoping that the comfort he provided to others would somehow salve the wound that festered within him. Yet, each night, as he lay in his lonely bed, the memory of Y/N's touch, the sound of her laughter, the taste of her kiss, haunted his dreams.
#father charlie grotesquerie#father charlie mayhew x reader#father charlie x reader#father charlie#father charlie mayhew#grotesquerie#nicholas alexander chavez x reader#nicholas alexander chavez#father charlie smut#charlie mayhew x reader#charlie mayhew smut
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hi how u doin?♥ would u do general relationship hcs for ghost and könig pls?? :)<3
What dating Ghost & König would be like
Pairings: Ghost x GN ! Reader, König x GN ! Reader
Warnings: Violence, Cussing, Death
Synopsis: Just headcanons of how I would think Ghost or König would be in a relationship!
Author's Note: HIIII! Im doing good thank you so much for asking! Also I wasnt sure if you meant like? Ghost x König or like X reader headcanons so I went with what I thought you mightve meant? If this isn't what you wanted don't be afraid to put in another ask for my inbox!!! Also just want to note how excited I get when someone puts an ask in my inbox- I get so excited- It literally makes my day! Love you guys <333
Dating Ghost
I feel like if you dated ghost, at first he would seem a little cold around you? Like he wouldn't know what to do with emotional or physical intimacy. He doesn't give you the cold shoulder but he is so awkward at it at first.
Don't expect him to say I love you first, or even realises he loves you? Like before you guys start dating he is always around you, and picking to go on missions with you if your apart of the 114, but he doesn't seem to realize even though everyone around him does.
Once he starts getting comfortable with the relationship, he is like showing you off to everyone. You're like his prized trophy and he could not be happier. Like he's telling everyone all the time about you, and even your little accomplishments, god he loves you so much!
He will do things he doesn't want to do, if it means he gets to see a smile on your face? Like he hates christmas parties, but if you find yourself wanting to host one? He's already making a list of who's invited and what you might need. (He may even wear one of those ugly christmas sweaters for you but don't count on it.)
Physical intimacy? To him thats just even holding hands and it takes months for him to open up to you like that. But after he opens up, god hes all over you. In the mornings he's hugging you from behind. Never stops kissing you in public. He is disguting with his PDA, hes all over you all the time, and sometimes its cute and then other times your like "Simonnn stoppp" and he will... for 3 minuites-
He is so domestic when he is at home. If you need anything he is absolutely helping you. He will be your little apprentice when your cooking and everything. Sinks broken? He's fixing it. You are missing an ingredient for your food or baking stuff? He's on his way to the store to get it for you. You haven't been able to clean up the house? He's on his hands and knees scrubbing.
If you have a mental illness? He's helping in anyway he can. Even when he's away hes making sure your taking medicine if you're taking it, or reminding you about your therapist appointments. He is all over helping and doing his best to help make life easier for you even if just by a little bit.
Dating König
Literally what the fuck. He is the biggest god damn teddy bear you have ever seen. Out in public he is brooding and angry looking, but in private? He's on his knees doing anything you want him to do.
He is the biggest fan of soft touches. If you're out in public at the grocery store he's 100% rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, or just being sweet. He might brush your hair out of your face if it's in it or hindering your sight.
He will do your little routines and when I tell you it is hilarious to see this big beefy man, with a pink glittery face mask on his face, man its hilarious. When he's home he's doing your little haircare and facial care routines with you. He's oiling his hair, or putting face masks on, maybe even little cucumbers on his eyes. (of course you're taking pictures for blackmail.)
He remembers the little things about you. Sometimes when he comes back from missions he will have picked up something, or bought something that reminds him of you, or something you like. You had mentioned to him that you love forget-me-nots and you came home one day noy realizing he was home, and there was a bunch of pressed, perserved, forget-me-nots in a frame. (He ended up hugging you from behind and almost scaring you into dropping it a few seconds later but that's irrelevant)
He may not be super public about your relationship with him, but it is pretty obvious. When your out in public, he's behind you scaring the shit out of anyone who may bother you. You're his and he wants everyone to know that. Maybe you hang out with the crew one day and he has his arms slung around you, or wrapped around you in some way that screams "This is mine".
He may not actively always do things in the house, but he hovers around. He also loves to leave little things so that when he is gone you remember things that are important for you to do, he knows you have a bit of a bad memory.
Just like ghost, if you have a mental illness he is all for supporting and helping you. If you need someone to talk to he is holding you in his arms as you talk to him. He even makes sure your meds are always accessable to you, and helps in any way he can.
#könig#könig x reader#konig call of duty#konig headcanons#konig x reader#konig x you#könig modern warfare#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#ghost x reader#simon riley fluff#simon riley comfort#cod mw2#ghost x gn reader#simon ghost riley x reader
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Tell Ren to clean the bloodstains he left earlier
Haii!! ^^ just wanted to ask, how would Renren react to an Angel that's..actually a real biblically accurate angel in a disguise? My angelsona is one so I wanted to make that question! c: I know Ren would still love Angel anyway but (biblically accurate) angels tend to be so scary a human can even paralize or die of fear, So Ren would be scared but amazed at the same time?
I hope you're doing well!! :3
⌞♥⌝ Due to Ren knowing Angel for at least thirteen years, it'd be really hard to hide something like that from him. You also have to keep in mind that he was roughly four years old when you first met, so his bewilderment and understanding would be that of a child.
So I'm sure he'd find it really cool and would honestly assume Angel was some kind of superhero!! I also don't think he'd be afraid of them due to his attachment, though who's to say?? Lmao
Also! Without spoiling anything: Ren isn't exactly human himself, so I think he'd feel some sort of kinship in a weird way.
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Hey, I love reading your headcannons
The danganronpa hickey one is one of my favorites! Would you be okay with doing the rest of the Danganronpa 3 boys with that prompt?
thank youu !! here you go 🪄
💭 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ drv3 boys receiving a hickey
type | suggestive , react , short read
author's note* this is a continuation of this request i got a month ago!
kiibo ♥︎
obviously it's not going to be the same as giving anyone else a hickey, and no color is going to show up afterwards. kiibo is practically malfunctioning after feeling their lips touch the metal near his neck. he's never experienced this before despite hearing a lot about this type of thing from miu...he shyly asks them if they can do it again─since he's a hands on learner and all!
korekiyo shinguji ♥︎
the skin on his neck is perfectly smooth seeing as he always covers it up and everything...having it in between their teeth feels just as good for them as it does for kiyo. after they pull away, kiyo clears his throat and composes himself. "your turn." he says.
kaito momota ♥︎
at first , he's like "woah..woah...." easing into their touches and getting used to the feeling of their mouth. he's feeling a little bit ticklish but manages to keep his laugh in. as much as he'd like to crack a joke rn to calm his own nerves, he slowly but surely relaxes into it and enjoys the feeling. he prays they don't bite too hard...his neck is particularly sensitive.
gonta gokuhara ♥︎
he's kind of speechless the whole time it's going on but they can he likes it. he looks like he's holding his breath, afraid that he might make a noise and ruin the moment. the pull away to tell him to relax, so he closes his eyes and lets them continue. his and partially untamed, long hair brushes against their face and tickles them but they ignore it, continuing in hopes to get a reaction out of gonta
ryoma hoshi ♥︎
he's struggling so hard to not make a noise. he knows that it'll come out as a low grunt and is worried that they might not like that...he has his hand covering his mouth the whole time they have their mouth on his neck. he gets a little too anxious and for a second to breathe. this is the first time they've seen ryoma so red. they can't tell if it's because he was holding his breath or because he was so flustered (it's both)
#danganronpa fandom#danganronpa v3#danganronpa v3 x reader#danganronpa imagines#danganronpa headcanons#danganronpa#danganronpa x reader#kaito momota#k1b0#kiibo#kaito momota x reader#kiibo x reader#korekiyo x reader#korekiyo shinguji#gonta gokuhara x reader#gonta gokuhara#ryoma hoshi x reader#ryoma hoshi
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Lonely Nights
Description: Tig is struggling, and she knows he is but he hates these conversations and will do anything to distract her from them.
Word count: 2,470
Warnings ⚠️: Angst, suggestive wording alluding to smutty things but nothing graphic. But I am still gonna mark this post as 18+ MDNI
SoA Taglist: @arkytiorlecter @aimkatsz @ravennaortiz @darqchilddaydreamz @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @hatersaremymotivators @theshynerdsworld
♥︎ If you wish to be added or removed from this taglist comment or message me ♥︎
SoA Masterlist ���� Main Masterlist
Tig and his girlfriend lay in bed, struggling to get a descent nights rest. Tig stares up at the ceiling with one hand wrapped snuggly around her bare waist. She slowly turns on her side to face Tig, a sign she was still awake too.
"What's on your mind, Darlin' ?" Tig runs his fingers gently down her side in a soothing manner he knows that helps her relax.
"I can't sleep." She says softly, her voice still rasp from the lack of use. She lays her head on his chest, listening to his rhythmic heart beat.
"I've noticed" He responds, his large hand wrapping around her body and pulling her closer.
She sighs and nestles her head into the crook of his neck. He runs his fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp. "You worried about something?" He breaks the silence as he continues to soothe her.
"I'm worried about you." She looks up at him from her spot on his chest, her head resting on her arm that is placed against him.
He turns his attention to her, a surprised look on his face. "Me?" He almost laughs.
"Yeah..." she sighs "things at the club are crazy right now and you are barely home anymore.....and since...Donna....you know the way she died....I'm just worried about you.." she whispers wanting to get her point across without upsetting him.
Tig sighs and leans forward to place a tender kiss at the top of her head. "Ain't nothing gonna happen to me doll. I'm fine." He leans back against the pillow and pulls her closer once more.
"Please don't give me that." She rolls her eyes at his nonchalance. "I haven't seen you in almost a month. You look like you've barely been sleeping, I can see the bags under your eyes, and God only knows how much you've been drinking. I'm really worried Tiggy"
Tig looks down at her, a look of annoyance crossing his face. "You sound like my mother right now." He says with a hint of distaste in his voice. "Please, just let it go."
"No...I'm not going to let it go. You aren't looking good and I'm worried you're going to get yourself hurt or...." She trails off, not wanting the words to actually come out of her mouth, afraid of speaking it into existence.
Tig's eyes soften at her tone. He knows she was worried, but he was fine, damn it all. He tightens his grip around her waist, rolling her to her back while he holds himself over her body."I'm fine, Darlin' ," he says in a tone she knows is only meant for her. He leans down close to her ear, his breath hot on her neck. "Stop worryin' so much...you're gonna go grey before ya hit thirty."
She lets out a shaky breath at the feeling of his breath on her skin. She gently rests her hands on his shoulders while he peppers light kisses along her neck. "Stop trying to distract me." She responds, her voice soft.
"It's working, ain't it?" He asks in between kisses, his hands gently roam her body. "Besides, I'd rather do this than talk about all the crap that's going on." He leaves a slight bite to her sensitive skin, her gasp only encouraging him.
"Well, I-" Her mind goes blank as his kisses make their way across her collarbone and onto her chest. He knew damn well what this did to her and he was using it to his full advantage.
His touch is gentle but firm against her skin as his hands roam her body, exploring every inch of her body he could in this moment. The room is filled with her soft gasps and sighs, her fingers lightly tracing his shoulders and arms as he makes his way slowly down her body.
He smirks against her skin as her hands find their way into his hair, pulling softly to coax the sound of a quiet moan from his lips. All her worries seemed to melt away when he touched her like this, but she still couldn't shake the feeling in the back of her mind.
His lips continue their gentle assault down her body until he reaches her stomach. He kisses her hips before going lower and leaving a trail of kisses on her inner thighs. She moans when his lips meet the sensitive skin and he grins between kisses.
She's now a panting mess and every worry she previously held was gone the moment he started touching her. One of her hands grips the sheets while the other still held tightly to his hair.
He continues his slow, languid kisses, enjoying every soft moan and gasp that escapes her lips. This was a good way to distract her, he thinks to himself. Her mind was far too occupied to think about anything else.
He takes his time in leaving his mark, knowing she wouldn't complain about any of the possessive love bites he would leave in her body. He could never get enough of the way she fell apart in his hands, completely at his mercy.
The only coherent thought she seemed to be able to keep in her head is the thought of how damn good he was at this. His mouth and hands worked in perfect harmony against her skin, sending her into a dizzying whirlwind of pleasure.
He could feel the way her thighs trembled under his touch and how her breathing was uneven and ragged. His own breathing grew heavy and she could feel the way the quiet moans vibrated against her skin.
He continues his gentle assault until she is left writhing beneath his touch, her eyes squeezed shut as the first wave of pleasure takes over her body. He places gentle kisses on the inside of her thighs as she slowly comes down from her high.
He moves back up to her side and pulls her against his body, holding her tightly against his chest. He tucks her head under his chin and wraps his arms around her. His fingers trace soothing patterns across her skin and gently pulls the sheets up and over their bodies.
She nestles her face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. As she starts to come back down to reality, the worries flood her mind again. Tig feels her tense in his arms, knowing what she was thinking about again.
"I can hear ya thinkin', Darlin'," He murmurs into her hair. His hand continues to move gently up and down her back.
"Can't help it," she says softly, her head still tucked under his chin. It was like a switch flipped and reality came back in full force. "I just...I worry about you. And...I worry about us."
Tig's grip tightens at her words, and his fingers stop their gentle patterns. "What do you mean you worry about us?" He asks, a hint of unease to his voice.
She lifts her head so she can look up at him, her lips slightly parted. "Everything is so chaotic with the club right now. You barely have any time to yourself and when you do, you come home either hurt, exhausted, or both. You barely eat or sleep at home and I'm worried you're going to get yourself killed. And on top of all of that, we barely spend any time together anymore." She says the last line quietly.
Tig's heart aches at her words, a pain in his chest as he stares down at her small form pressed against him. She was right, he knew she was. But she also knew the club came first. "Doll', you knew when we started dating I came in a package deal. The Sons come first, you know that."
"I know...and I'm fine with that, really I am" she sighs looking down tracing circles on his chest trying to find the best way to word it. "I guess I thought there would still be some time set aside for us...for you....I know its not realistic to have a fixed schedule and that you could be needed at any moment...but you deserve a day atleast..." she mumbles eyes down.
Hearing her say he deserves a day made his heart throb in his chest. He gently cups her face in his hand and guides her eyes up to his. "Darlin'...you know I-" he stops in the midst of his rebuttal as he sees the way her face looked. It was a mix of frustration, worry, and....sadness.
"I'm not asking you to set aside time every week, don't get me wrong." She sighs, her voice still a soft whisper. "But you're still human, you need to eat and sleep more than two hours a night. I just want you to...take care of yourself more. Be a little more careful with yourself." She says softly, her eyes pleading.
Looking into her eyes, he feels like he's looking into a wounded animal. She was worried about him, she genuinely didn't want anything to happen to him. He sighs and pulls her flush against his body once more, resting his forehead against hers. "You know I can't make any promises, Darlin'."
Her eyes close as he pulls her body against his, but a slight pang of hurt shoots through her. "I don't care if you make a promise, I just want you to try." She whispers, a desperate, pleading edge to her tone.
He winces at the tone in her voice. Damn it, he hated when she used that tone. He didn't want to worry her, but how could he make promises that he couldn't keep? "I-" he pauses for a moment, trying to find the right words. "I will try, okay? I'll fucking try, Doll'..." he says so softly she almost thinks she imagined it.
He opens his mouth to say more but his phone ringing interrupted him. He picks it up from the side table, they both recognise the number flashing on the screen.
Tig glances down at her to gauge her reaction knowing full well what the number meant. He had to leave now. He knew he did, but God damn he didn't want to.
He answers the phone anyway.He gives a simple "Yeah," to whoever is on the other end of the line. His gaze doesn't leave hers, but a guilty look is plastered across his face. He knows he's about to ruin her night again, it happens far too often now.
She's watching him with a hint of desperation and sadness in her eyes, already knowing the conversation will end the way it normally does. With him leaving.
As the person on the end of the line responds, Tig reluctantly tears his eyes away from her and glances at the clock. "I'll be there in twenty." He says before hanging up.
His heart clenches as he looks back at her, knowing exactly what she's thinking. This is how it always is: him getting a call at night and having to leave, leaving her in bed, alone, after she just poured her heart out to him. "Darlin'...I'm—" He stops mid sentence and sighs. It was pointless to even try to justify it, she knew the club came first.
She says nothing, sitting up off of him pulling the sheets to cover her chest....pausing looking up at him a small frown on her face "Ride safe, yeah?" She whispers with a small forced smile on knowing there was nothing she could say to make him stay.
Tig sighs as she sits up, knowing she's trying to push her feelings aside for now. "Yeah." He says, his eyes never leaving her's. It felt like a knife to the gut seeing her trying to pretend to be okay in this moment. "I'll be back before you know it." He tries to soothe her nerves but he knows it's pointless.
He sits up now too and turns away from her, his bare feet meeting the cool wooden floor. He stands and quickly grabs a pair of jeans from the dresser and pulls them on before grabbing a t-shirt and his socks. He gets dressed as quickly as possible, knowing he didn't want to draw this out any longer.
Once he's fully dressed he turns his attention back to her, still sitting on the bed looking so small and vulnerable. The sight makes his heart ache but he pushes the feeling down and moves back to her. He cups her face in his hands and gently kisses her forehead, feeling her body tense under his touch.
"I'm sorry, Darlin'." He whispers as he continues to hold her face in his hands. He sees the sadness in her eyes, the loneliness, and it hurts him to know he was the cause of it. He gently kisses her forehead again before moving his hands away from her face. She doesn't say a word, just continues to look at him, the hint of a lonely frown evident on her face.
He sighs and turns away, glancing at the clock on the bedside table once more. "I gotta go." He says finally, though it pains him to say the words. He hates leaving her like this, but he had a job to do and the club was waiting for him.
He moves around the foot of the bed and to the bedroom door, not stopping to look back at her knowing he'd lose his will to leave. He pushes the bedroom door open and walks through it, pausing in the small hallway for just a moment. His heart is in his throat and it feels like he's about to choke on it but he says the line he always does and he does it as gently as he can. "Don't wait up, Darlin'."
She waits until the sound of his bike completely faded out, and the silence of the night returned before she allowed herself to let her tears fall. She held them in as he got dressed and left, but now that she was left in the quiet of the house, alone, she couldn't stop them anymore.
She curled up in the bed, pulling the covers tightly around her body to try and seek comfort from the absence of Tig now. The quiet sobs shook her body and her tears soaked the pillow under her head and face.
The situation they were in was an endless cycle; he would leave, she would be alone and sad, he would come home, a short amount of time would be set aside for 'them' and then they would be on a timer until the next time he had to leave. It was the same cycle over, and over, and over again, and if something didn't change soon, she had a feeling it was the beginning of the end for them.
#sons of anarchy#samcro#soa#sons of anarchy x reader#tig trager oneshot#tig trager imagine#tiggy trager#tig trager x reader#tig trager#soa tig trager#tig trager soa#fanfiction#sons of anarchy oneshot#sons of anarchy fanfic#fanfic#sons of anarchy fanfiction#sons of anarchy tig#alexander 'tig' trager
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Hate and love
Hello!
This one is from a request, you still can ask me to write something if you want to :)
I have to say that I'm not really sure about this one, but here it is.
Enjoy ♥
TW : Angst, harassment, divorce, loneliness.
______________________________________________________________
Your arrival in Barcelona at the winter transfer almost a year ago has gone rather well. You quickly bonded with most of the players and you didn’t have any trouble becoming a part of the FC Barcelona family. You maybe wasn't in the Top 3 of the public favorite players, but you don't really mind. You were a bit sad about the departure of some of them this summer, especially Jenni and Ana who were kind of mentors for you during these few months. And even if you continue to exchange news with them, you must admit that it is not the same.
Playing previously in Seville, you already knew quite well some of the players of the team, usually staying on the pitch after the matches to chat a little. You were separated during the World Cup, your national team not being strong enough to pass the qualifications you were in the first to return to training in Barcelona. This did not prevent you from making the trip to Australia to support your friends and obviously the Spanish national team.
You celebrated their victory from the VIP party with friends and family before returning to Barcelona in your daily routine. The world champions have gradually returned to training and you have welcomed new players to the team, always in a good mood.
Everything seems perfect told like that, yet there is something that bothers you since your arrival in Barcelona.
Aitana Bonmati.
She never seemed very happy to see you arrive and you never understood why. At first you said to yourself that she was perhaps afraid that your arrival would cause an imbalance in the group, as can happen sometimes when an element has a too strong personality. Some are afraid of change and you have not asked yourself more questions than that, letting this information slip into a corner of your brain. She wasn’t necessarily part of the small group of girls you trained with regularly anyway since you don’t play in the same spot on the field.
But this summer, you could see that the new arrivals had the right to a big smile and other privileges to which you were not entitled. It’s not really a question of ego, but you don’t understand what you did to her to make her react this way with you. And that's hurt.
You have even noticed with the passing of time that she tends to be rather unpleasant with you, not responding to your hello when you arrive in the locker room for example. It happens to her to roll discreetly her eyes when you speak and you even surprised once Ona throwing her an elbow in the ribs while making the big eyes. It was a relief to see that you were not crazy and that your teammates were taking your side, but it also confirmed what you thought.
And gradually, it plunged you into a kind of constant anxiety, reminding you of some of your traumas during your childhood and adolescence. During which you were often mocked, the girl who preferred to play football rather than dance. Your father always supported you in your choices, unlike your mother, your big brother and your big sister. When they separated you went to live with him and he sacrificed a lot so that you would be where you are today, but you never had the heart to tell him about the harassment you were experiencing at school.
**********
"Can I talk to you?"
Alexia’s voice surprises you while you were focused on the laces of your Converse, making you jump a little. Lost in your thoughts, you were ruminating about the disaster you were during this training. You didn’t put a single ball in the net, you got so distracted that you got a remonstrance from Jona and you almost kill Mapi with a bad pass. Mapi preferred to laugh and quickly came to reassure you by giving you a friendly slap in the back and a hug, to your greatest relief. You would have been horrified to be hated by another of your teammates.
"Sure" you mumble without looking at her.
Alexia’s voice was sweet when she offered to follow her to one of the conference rooms and you complied after picking up your bag and stuff. All the other girls have already returned and the corridors now seem deserted.
When you arrive in the room, you watch Alexia open the blinds slightly as you stand against the wall, very close to the door. You’re anxious and just waiting to be scolded. It often happened like this, teachers taking you aside to say that you weighed on the morale or level of the class. That you had to work on it if you wanted to be accepted and have good results. But no one ever seemed to wonder why you didn’t get along with your classmates. No one ever noticed or understood the harassment you were experiencing. You never mentioned that either, but you would have given ten years of your life for someone to notice. Anyone.
So when Alexia turns to you with an almost maternal expression, it completely disarms you. Her eyes were soft and you can easily detect a form of concern in it.
"You can come closer, I won’t eat you" Alexia gently smiles before sitting on one of the tables, probably to make this conversation less formal.
After hesitating for a second, you settle down in front of her playing nervously with your hair.
"What can I do for you?" you ask, instead of "How are you gonna let me know that I’m gonna heat up the backup bench over the next few weeks?"
"I just wanted to make sure that everything was fine. You seem a little out of place these last few days and it’s starting to worry us. I talked with Jona about it today"
She seems embarrassed to tell you that she told someone else about you without you knowing, making you frown. Your facial expression is probably misunderstood by your captain as she hastens to add
"Don’t take this the wrong way. we’re just worried about you"
"I... I'm fine"
You shrug before biting your lip. You are a bad liar, you know it. And it didn't fool Alexia.
"You don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel comfortable with it. But there are other people here who will listen to you with pleasure."
"Don’t worry about me. It was just a time like this, but I’ll be fine"
Because it's what you always did. Figuring and fighting things alone, even if you have now friends who you trust and who you know you can count on.
"You don't have to do that alone, you know"
"Why do you even care?"
You roll your eyes. Sur Alexia is a great captain, and you like her a lot. As a friend of course, but you can't denied that she deserve her title. Like most other girls she is sincerely kind and knows how to distinguish between competition and friendships in the locker room. This is an example for you, as it is for many other girls. And even if she knows all this, she remains modest and does not take the big head. Pretty impressive, in your opinion.
"Is that even a question Y/N?"
Alexia laughs, but it’s a surprise laugh. She seems surprised at the sincerity of your question. And, seeing that you don't answer, she gently shakes her head before answering you.
"Because we care, you're part of this family and even if half of us are totaly crazy, we care for each other. Whatever your problem is, you don't have to figure out alone."
And these sentences, even if it seems to be the most natural thing for Alexia, break down the barriers you have put up until now. You feel tears wet your cheeks without being able to do anything to stop them. As if the dam that you had formed all these years had broken and all the tears that you had retained until today finally decided to come out. And obviously, it bothers you terribly.
You mumble excuses between two sobs, but after more or less calling you an idiot, Alexia breaks the distance between you two to take you in her arms and rock you against her. You don’t know how long you stay like this, but you still stop crying.
So you tell her everything.
The harassment when you were little, from part of your family and the children in your classes. The divorce of your parents which you feel responsible despite everything, this feeling of loneliness that you have since you were born certainly. This feeling of never being fully understood by anyone, until you arrived here. And then you talk about your teammate who reminds you of that, without giving her name. You don’t want to be a problem and Alexia doesn’t ask you to name her. Maybe because she already knows who she is?
The blonde listens to you without saying a word, patiently wiping the tears that continue to roll on your cheeks. When you are silent, exhausted by these confessions and your tears, she speaks again in a calm and soothing voice.
"I’m not going to pretend that I understand you because I was lucky enough to have a family that always supported me. I wouldn’t be here without them, honestly."
The bond between Alexia and her mother, even her sister is know by anyone. You nod, still looking at her.
"But you, you made your way all by yourself. You're only 21 Y/N, you don't realise how strong you are. But being strong doesn't always mean you have to be alone. You have friends here, people who love you and care for you. You are not alone anymore."
With that you smile at her, feeling relieved. As if the weight of all these years were coming off your shoulders. You even feel like you can breathe better. So you thank Alexia, with simple words but you couldn’t explain how much you think about them. As she lays a kiss on your cheek, you put your arms around her neck to hug her and press your words. She gives you your hug back before training you out of the room. Tomorrow is another day and you promise to do better than that.
**********
The rest of the workouts of the week are much better and you decide to completely ignore Aitana. You remain polite nevertheless, but you act as if she's not there. And this seems to annoy her even more but you decided that's not your problem. Many times you feel her look burn your back and you have time to see her black look before she realizes that you are looking at her and she looks away.
But your morale and your game are back to normal and it’s a great relief for you. For Alexia and your coach too, the man simply slips you a short compliment at the end of a session. No need to make tons and that’s enough for you.
The last practice before the next game goes as usual. You do your warm-ups with your fellow defenders, then you are shuffled for courses and drills before a five-player mini-team tournament is organized. You feel a form of anxiety that makes your heart beat when your team is against Aitana, but you decide to focus on the game.
It goes pretty well until you are tackled a little too ferociously by someone from the opposing team. The pain in your ankle and instantaneous and you can’t hold a cry of pain as you collapse to the ground.
"What the fuck Aitana?" Mapi snaps, but you don't really care for now.
The second duel that took place next to you seems to have stopped too, but the tears of pain that fill your eyes prevent you from seeing it for the moment.
"You're ok?"
Irene has knelt beside you and you feel a compassionate hand behind your back. Long black hair obscuring part of the view informs you that it's Ingrid. You answer a simple no with a nod and a few minutes later you are transported to the infirmary. Ona offered to accompany you and you agreed, realizing that you didn't want to be alone.
**********
"Sprain" informs you the nurse and you let yourself go against the file of the infirmary bed on which you are. "It means rest for two weeks."
You pout, but turn your attention to Ona when she places a friendly hand on your arm. You are so used to spending this kind of time alone that you sometimes forget for a few seconds that she is with you. You must be able to easily win the worst friend award.
"At least it’s not the ligaments" Ona said softly.
"You’re right" you sigh.
She gives you a compassionate smile and you assure her that she can take a shower and change. You still have the prescription to wait and the nurse must come back with your brace and crutches. After making sure you weren’t going to go home with an Uber but with her and Lucy, she eventually left the room. She even offers to inform the rest of the team of your injury and you accept willingly, not wanting to go to put a show there downstairs.
A few minutes pass and you always wait when someone knocks on the door.
"I still haven’t finished Ona, but you can come in."
Except that it is not Ona who enters, but Aitana. The look fixed on her shoes and the air of someone who goes to the torture room. And this time, the anger you had not yet felt takes hold of you.
"I came to apologize" Aitana mumbles without turning her eyes towards you.
"Well, it's done" you answer coldly, turning your back on her.
You don’t want to look at her. You’re mad at her, at her behavior. That she doesn’t like you is one thing, but that she makes you unable to play for two weeks is another.
"It wasn't voluntary"
You hold a sarcastic laugh and slowly shake your head.
"Ok."
Aitana seems surprised at your reaction, but you don’t care. It's true that usually you are more the one who flees the conflict and who prefers to go with the idea of the person in front of you to please her. She stands there and it annoys you. So you suddenly turn your head in her direction and you talk to her dryly.
"All right, you can go now. Just leave me alone."
The tone of your voice seems to make her react since she frowns and steps in your direction.
"Don’t talk to me like that."
You feel your heart racing, you have never been very good at dealing with disputes and emotions. Until now you had managed to buried them deep inside when they became too powerful but it seems that since your confessions to Alexia you are no longer able to do so. She says it’s a pretty good things, but you're not really sure about that.
"Don’t tell me how to talk to you when you’ve been treating me like shit since I got here, Aitana."
Aitana is stunned. She never saw you angry and expected you to accept her apology so that she could get out of this room as quickly as she got in. Her lost look irritates you a little more, she knew very well what she was doing by behaving as she did since the beginning. And you gradually realized that you didn’t deserve this.
"Who made you come here? Mapi, Alexia, Jonatan?"
She blushs and it's enough for you to understand that you are right. If she had the choice, she would never had been here, begging for your forgiveness.
"Get out" you groan, turning your back at her once again.
She didn't and you sigh before getting up as you can. It may not be the most graceful way to do it and it may take some drama off the stage, but you don't care.
"I said get out" you say, raising your voice now. "You don't want to be here and I don't want you here."
But she’s still not moving and your patience is coming to an end. From now on there is nothing else that separates you, except the bed on which you were lying a few moments ago. The nurse still hasn’t come back, but this might be the time to do it please.
"I- " began Aitana, without saying anything more.
"What do you want? Two weeks without me aren't enough? Want to break my other leg too?"
The frustration you feel about not understanding Aitana’s reaction and behavior may be pushing you a little to say things you never had the courage to say before. But it was less positive to return the floor to your interlocutor, whose face and eyes finally come alive again.
"I told you I didn't mean it" she half-screams and you snort. "Maybe I was wrong for acting with you like I did but..."
"Maybe?!" you interrupt her coldly.
"You made my life a living hell! You came here with your damn smile and skills and all my life fell appart!" Aitana is clearly shooting now and you blink, surprised by her rage. "I was in an healthy relationship, happy in my life and with this team. And you came along and everything fell apart! I am straight ok, I am so fucking straight but all I can think about all the time is you! I hate you for the way you make me feel but I'm not fucking able to change it even if I tried since you are here"
It is your turn to remain silent, your brain analyzing each of the words that she just said. And all this has absolutely no meaning for you, except the part where she confesses her hatred to you perhaps. Aitana’s breathing is fast and noisy, you can’t tell if it’s that or your screams that didn’t allow you to realize that you were no longer alone in the room.
"Hmm."
You look over Aitana’s shoulder and you realize that Ona has returned to the room with Lucy holding your crutches and a sheet of paper while she herself carry your bag.
"Maybe it’s time to go home"
Lucy’s perfectly expressionless face keeps you from knowing how long she’s been here. Two steps behind her, Ona makes her look between you and Aitana without saying anything. You nod and pass in front of Aitana with a limp, Ona reacting by breaking the last meters to help you take your crutches in hand.
You follow them silently to Lucy’s car and after some arguments with Ona you finally agree to sit in the passenger seat. By taking your phone out of your pocket, you realize that you have received some messages from your teammates wishing you a good recovery. And you quickly understand that they have created a tournus between them so that you are not alone at home. There will apparently be only during the trip next weekend where you will not have peace. But it makes you smile and a little forget what just happened.
"You want to eat with us tonight?" Lucy asks.
"Nah I'm good thank you. I usually watch some crap TV show on friday night."
You see Lucy peeking at you to make sure you’re not playing superhero and you feel the way she’s measuring you. You look up and sigh.
"I assure you it’s okay. Enjoy your Friday night, I’ll probably go to bed early anyway."
This time it's Ona that Lucy looks through the rearview mirror but neither of them insists, to your relief. Being alone doesn't bother you. Once at home, Ona helps you get out of the vehicle and before she can open her mouth, you speak again.
"I promise, i'm fine Ona."
"All right. I’ll leave you alone on the condition that you swear on your cat’s head that you will write me if you're not okay."
"Leave the poor cat alone" you joke, making her smile. "I promise."
**********
The doorbell on your front door makes you frown. You’re sitting on your couch, a blanket on your legs and your cat on your stomach. Your sprain is better, it must be said that after a week and a half of rest it would be dramatic that this is not the case. You have resumed muscle training, but it is obviously out of the question that you start running again for now. You can now move without your crutches and it was a great relief to be able to get rid of them. Your ankle is still carefully immobilized but you are now doing quite well.
Salma left your apartment half an hour ago, and you’re supposed to stop receiving visitors. Your father phones you every day and hasn’t done it yet, but he has no reason to show up here unannounced. That’s really not his style.
The bell rings again, waking up your cat who is rustling a little before going to eat croquettes in the kitchen. So you get up from the couch and go to the door, opening it without removing the safety chain to see who it is. And almost immediately you close the door, but the fingers of Aitana who slip into the opening prevent you to do so.
"Don’t make me break your fingers"
"Just let me in"
"No? What the hell"
"Y/N, please…"
The despair of her voice makes you flinch and you press your forehead against the door. You’re too sensitive to people’s distress to leave someone with that feeling. Even if it was Aitana herself who put you in this emotion there a few weeks ago. You sigh and, already regretting your gesture, you open the door to let her in. You avoid looking at her when she enters your home, closing the door behind her.
"You have a cat?"
You refrain from pointing out that if she had been interested in you instead of making you regret your arrival, she would know. If you don’t talk about your cat several times during the day, there is a problem.
"How do you know where I live?"
Aitana stop looking at your cat who spread out on your plaid to turn to you. With your arms crossed, you wait for his answer with a certain hint of curiosity. Aitana has never set foot in your house and if you are not mistaken, she does not really live in the neighborhood.
"I asked Irene"
She shrugs and you signal her to settle down on the couch. You go back to your place, gently pushing your cat to be a little more comfortable. With a simple look he made you understand that you're annoying, making you smile gently. You caress him to apologize as he stretches, rolls into a ball and closes his eyes.
"I came to apologize"
Sitting on the edge of the couch, Aitana looks at you with the same suspicion as if she had been the last piece of meat in the middle of a horde of hungry lions.
"I’ve already heard that before" you answer by arching an eyebrow
"I know. But I just... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, really. My problems shouldn’t have affected you. I should have handled things differently, but I was confuse and scared."
She looks sincere and does not look away when you judge her with yours. Next to you your cat stretches lazily before turning around on the other side and continuing his nap.
"Ok. Apologizes accepted"
She looks at you so long it makes you uncomfortable. You have never been in her presence for so long and you find yourself nervously wrapping your hair around your finger.
"If I could, I would do things differently, you know? I understand it’s out of the question that something is happening between us now, but I would like to start all over again. Get to know you, possibly offer you a date and then two if things go well."
You’re slowly biting your lip looking at her. You’d be lying if you said that the words she said in the infirmary didn’t mark you. You were far from imagining that the reason for his behavior was related to an attraction to you. You think it’s pretty toxic, but you like to think people deserve a second chance. After biting your lip, you bend over and reach out to her.
"Well... Hi. I'm Y/N, nice to meet you."
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