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hoe4hotchner · 5 days ago

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The Final Lap

Pairing: F1 driver!Hotch x fem!reader | WC: 2.3k | CW: A little swearing, one midly suggestive comment, champagne, I don't know - is sweat a cw?

A/N: I finished writing this at 2am, so some of the environemt might not make sense, I'm not changing it though ;)

The Ferrari garage was electric, the air thick with the buzz of movement as engineers murmured over headsets, eyes glued to the data screens, pit crew readying themselves for the next stop, and the unmistakable scent of fuel and burning rubber that clung to the humid night air and only got stronger with each lap.

Yet despite the organized chaos around you, your world had narrowed to one thing: the red blur blazing around the track.

Aaron Hotchner.

A two-time World Champion, one of the best drivers this generation of Formula 1 had ever seen. But tonight, that was all coming to an end. He was retiring. Mid-season at that. It had shocked everyone in the paddock.

Retiring in the middle of the season? Unheard of.

Speculation had run wild—injury, contract disputes, internal politics, a baby?—but no one had guessed the truth. Hotch wasn’t leaving because of any of that. He was leaving because he wanted something more than the endless race weekends, the constant jetlag, the hotels, the pressure of performance, and the fear of injury. He wanted a life, and that life had you in it.

For the first time in over a decade, Hotch had found someone he didn’t want to leave behind every other weekend. Someone who made the circuit feel small, someone who was waiting for him to come home, not just to a race but to a life beyond the track and parties.

Right now, he was in P2, chasing down Max Verstappen with only a handful of laps to go.

The garage was tense, every engineer hanging on the telemetry. You stood in the garage, chewing your lip, arms crossed and fingers digging into your skin as you watched the screen, tracking his every move.

“Gap to Verstappen, 1.2 seconds,” his race engineer, Paul, relayed over the radio. “He’s struggling with tire degradation. If we push, we can get him.”

Hotch’s voice came through, steady and composed. “Understood.”

God, you loved him.

You loved how focused he was, how in control he remained even when every part of his body must’ve been screaming for release, for a break.

But not tonight. Not when this was his last race.

A sudden thought struck you, and without hesitation, you turned to one of the engineers, pointing at a spare headset on the workbench. “Can I say something to him?”

The engineer hesitated, looking at you with a raised eyebrow, but then smirked. “Make it quick.”

You pulled the headset on and pressed the comms button, taking a deep breath. The air in the garage felt thick with anticipation as everyone waited for you to make your move, but in that moment, you only had one person on your mind.

“Hey, handsome.”

Silence.

Then, a breathy response came through the radio.

“Sweetheart?” His voice was softer than it ever was during a race. Always so composed, never losing focus—never even swearing, like many of his opponents—yet you could tell by the slight drop in his tone that he was smirking.

You grinned, your heart racing. “You look good out there.”

The air shifted in the garage, the engineers going silent as they eavesdropped on the comms.

“You should see me up close,” Hotch murmured back, and you swore you could feel the weight of his words in your chest.

Hotch flirting mid-race? The fans were going to have a field day with this recording you thought.

You bit back a laugh, suddenly feeling a flutter in your chest. “I’ll hold you to that,” you teased, voice dropping just slightly. “But I think P1 would look even better on you. Let Max eat your exhaust fumes”

A breath from him, holding together a laugh. Then, a low and steady reply:

“Copy that.”

The garage went completely still. The next few seconds would determine everything.

Lap traffic ahead. Two backmarkers. Hotch’s team didn’t even need to tell him twice. He saw the gap, recognized the opportunity, and now it was up to him.

The roar of the engine shifted, the engine note rising as Hotch pushed harder. Paul’s voice cut through the static. “Verstappen’s losing time in Zone 4. This is our chance.”

Hotch didn’t hesitate. He was already setting up for the move.

As they approached the Anderson Bridge, Max hesitated behind the Aston—which was unlike him. It was the opening Hotch needed.

ERS deployed.

He dove down the inside at Turn 12, braking impossibly late. The Ferrari twitched, almost losing the rear, but Hotch held it steady, centimeters from Max's rear.

And then—he was ahead.

The garage exploded into triumphant chaos. “He’s done it!” “He’s in P1!”

Your heart raced, your hands trembling as you pressed the comms button again, breathless with excitement. “Aaron, you absolute machine.”

Through the radio, you heard his low chuckle. “Told you to hold on tight.”

Final lap.

You barely registered the world around you. You were all but consumed by the sheer will of the moment. Every corner was a battle. Every turn was his. The world around you blurred into the background, the only thing that mattered being Hotch and the finish line that was now within reach.

Turn 17.

Turn 18.

The final corner.

The checkered flag waved.

“AARON HOTCHNER WINS THE SINGAPORE GRAND PRIX!”

The words rang in your ears as the Ferrari surged across the line, the crowd roaring, the Tifosi screaming in unison. It was over. The moment had arrived.

The Ferrari garage erupted. Headsets slammed onto tables—clearly not caring if they broke—engineers leaped into each other's arms, and bottles of champagne were already being cracked open. On the pit wall, a sea of red uniforms flooded the monitors, clapping, shouting, barely able to contain themselves as the realization set in—Aaron Hotchner had just won the Singapore Grand Prix. Your breath caught, hands pressed to the headset, every nerve in your body still wired from the last ten laps. The tension had been unbearable—Max had been defending his spot like his life depended on it, and for a while, it seemed like P2 was where Hotch would finish his racing days.

Until he didn’t.

The radio was full of cheering, the entire Ferrari team shouting over each other. Hotch’s voice finally broke through—breathless, steady, softer than you expected. “Yes!” A rare burst of raw emotion. “That was—unbelievable. Thank you, guys.” Paul, his race engineer, was practically laughing.

“Aaron Hotchner wins in Singapore! What a move. What a drive. P1, baby!”

And you? You pressed the comms button, voice teasing. “Told you P1 would look good on you.”

A chuckle—low, warm, the kind of laugh that curled through you like fire on a cold day. “Guess I couldn’t let you down.”

Your fingers tightened around the headset. Out on the circuit, he was still weaving his car side to side on the cool-down lap, burning the last of the fuel, fans screaming his name from the grandstands. Red flares ignited in the sky, casting a glow over the Marina Bay circuit.

The final results came in:

🥇 Aaron Hotchner | Ferrari

🥈 Max Verstappen | Red Bull

🥉 Charles Leclerc | Ferrari

A Ferrari double podium in Hotch’s last race. If the garage had been loud before, it was deafening now. But you stayed rooted in place, eyes locked on the screens.

He pulled into parc fermé, stopping in front of the #1 marker. Engine off. Helmet off. You watched as he climbed out of the car, sweat-soaked fireproofs clinging to his body, hair damp, chest rising and falling as he took in the moment, before climbing on top of his car, with his helmet raised to the sky.

And then—That smile. Not the usual, small, controlled one. This was real. Wide, bright, a kind of happiness he couldn't control. Mechanics surrounded him first as he climbed back down, clapping his back, congratulating him. He took it all in stride, shaking hands, hugging his engineers. But then—He started searching for something.

No, not something.

Someone.

You.

The second the cameras shifted to the post-race interview area, you ran. Through the garage, past team personnel, ducking under barriers as you weaved through the sea of red. And then he saw you. A split second of recognition—Then open arms.

You collided with him, the scent of fuel, sweat, and somehow champagne already clinging to his suit, but you didn’t care. His arms locked around you, tight, body still thrumming with adrenaline. His voice was hushed, just for you.

“I was waiting for you.” Your hands pressed against his chest, feeling the hammering heartbeat. “Had to make sure you really won.”

A smirk tugged at his lips. “You doubted me?”

“Never.”

The Ferrari crew around you whistled, someone muttering something about "Hotch getting a different kind of trophy tonight." You flushed, but Hotch only laughed under his breath, fingers brushing the side of your face before a team official clapped his shoulder.

“Podium time, Hotch.”

You squeezed his wrist. “Go. I’ll be watching.” His gaze lingered before he nodded, turning towards the podium ceremony.

The circuit was alive with energy. Red flares burned, fans roared, and the Ferrari team crowded together in the pit lane, waving flags and cheering.

At the top of the paddock, the podium gleamed under the bright floodlights, a red carpet leading up the stairs where FIA officials and race stewards stood waiting. Above, the massive digital screen displayed the final race standings: Aaron Hotchner in P1. Max Verstappen in P2. Charles Leclerc in P3. If anyone was unsure of the standings.

You stood just below the stage with the rest of the team, heart racing as you watched Hotch climb the steps. His suit was still damp with sweat, the red and black fabric clinging to his body, and yet he carried himself with that same unwavering confidence, like a man who had done this a thousand times before—which it felt like he had. But this time was different. This was his last time.

The podium announcer’s voice echoed across the circuit, listing the finishing positions in order. Charles was introduced first, stepping onto the third-place podium to a chorus of cheers. He shook his head slightly as he adjusted his collar, still breathless from the race. Then Max, accepting his second-place finish with the usual tight-lipped nod, the competitive edge in his eyes refusing to dull—no doubt he would power through several simulations the following days.

But it was when the announcer called Hotch’s name that the world seemed to explode.

Everything erupted. Fans chanted his name, flares burned brighter in the night, and as he stepped onto the highest tier of the podium, he exhaled slowly, drinking it in. His final podium. His final win. But instead of sadness, there was peace in the way his shoulders dropped slightly, in the way he ran a hand over his jaw before placing the Pirelli cap on his head.

Even with the weight of history, of legacy, of an entire nation behind him, his gaze still searched for you.

The American national anthem played first, Hotch standing motionless as the flag was raised above him. Then the Italian anthem, and if the fans had been loud before, they were deafening now. Every single word was sung, voices carrying over the circuit, filling the air with pure, unfiltered passion. And through it all, Hotch stood tall, head slightly bowed, fingers flexing at his sides. You had never seen him look so at home.

One by one, the trophies were presented. Charles accepted his first, shaking his head with an exasperated smile before turning to congratulate Hotch with a playful nudge. Max followed his grip tight on his trophy, still smirking slightly like he was already thinking about the next race. And then, finally, the presenter stepped forward with the massive gold-plated winner’s trophy.

The weight of it was nothing compared to the moment itself, but Hotch lifted it with ease, raising it high above his head.

The second the trophies were set down, the champagne bottles were cracked open. Charles was the first to strike, popping his bottle and immediately drenching Max, who let out an indignant shout before retaliating. The two of them descended into absolute chaos, but Hotch, ever the strategist, waited—watching, calculating—before launching his own attack. He shook his bottle furiously, angling it just right before absolutely soaking Charles in champagne. Charles yelped, attempting to shield himself, but the cameras had already captured his fate. The crowd ate it up, loving every second of the carnage, knowing that they would miss the relationship between Hotch and Charles on the track.

Through it all, you watched, heart swelling with something deeper than pride, something warmer than admiration. You had loved him in so many ways, in so many lifetimes, but seeing him here—drenched in champagne, racing suit and fireproofs sticking to his frame, a rare, boyish smirk on his lips—you had never loved him more.

And then, before you could react, he was moving. Away from the cameras. Away from the podium. Away from the crowd. And toward you. Not caring about the interviews.

His fingers curled around your waist, tugging you in until you were flush against him. He was still damp, still smelled of adrenaline and gasoline, but you didn’t care. His lips brushed your ear, voice low, teasing, the same voice that had made your heart race over the radio.

“I think I like winning.”

You let out a breathless laugh, pressing your hands against his chest. “Then why retire?”

He exhaled, warm against your skin, fingers grazing the small of your back. And then, softly and simply smiled—

“You know why.”

Because it had never been about injuries. It had never been about losing. Aaron Hotchner was retiring from Formula 1 because he had already won the most important thing of all.

You.

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hazbinwhoree · 1 year ago

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can you write a AdamxReader where the reader is a demon who works for val?

With a little smut beginning but the reader gets a trauma response? and Adam comforting them and reassuring them that he isn’t mad that they needed to stop and comforting that he isn’t just after sex with them! (sorry if I wrote this weird idk how to write my IDEAS)

PTSD

A/N: TW for implied sexual assault

(Name) and Adam had been in a secret relationship for a few months now. Secret, seeing as he was an angel and she was a demon. But they made it work.

(Name) worked for Val, or rather, her soul was owned by Val, and she’d met Adam when the Vee’s had a meeting with him. Vox wanted to strike a deal where Adam would kill Alastor during the next extermination.

Val noticed Adam eyeing (Name) and offered her as compensation if Adam could get the job done. Adam looked rather taken aback at such an offer, deals as shady as this were not made in Heaven, and said he’d think about it.

Val said he could have (Name) for an hour to think about it. Adam knew exactly what he meant by that, and it made him a little nauseous. Still, he was left alone with her.

Her, who stared at him in fear, looking like an animal backed into a corner.

“I’m… I’m not going to do anything to you.”

And they spent the hour just talking. When the Vee’s came back, Adam stated his new terms. “I’ll kill Alastor for (Name)’s soul to be released to me.”

Val looked angry and adamantly opposed to the idea, but Vox quickly agreed.

In the months before the next extermination, (Name) and Adam would visit one another on the rare occasions (Name) was able to get away from Val. They’d been together for about four months now, and it was the longest Adam had gone without sex in a minute.

They never went any further than making out, and Adam was okay with moving at (Name)’s pace. He liked her that much.

It was about a month before the extermination and they were making out on the couch in (Name)’s home when she felt his erection against her thigh. Feeling bold, she grinded down in his lap and he groaned. “Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warned, voice gravelly.

(Name) grinned and grinded down again. Adam bit his lip. He kissed her cheek, then her jaw, moving down to suck on her neck. (Name) sighed contently. One of Adam’s hands snuck up her shirt, groping her chest.

(Name) was enjoying herself, ready to finally go further with Adam as she’d wanted to for months, but then he reconnected their lips and placed a hand on her neck. He didn’t squeeze or anything, but the action caused the reaction that had kept (Name) from acting on her desires for so long.

The hand at her neck, tongue invading her mouth, and erection against her crotch suddenly didn’t belong to Adam as nightmarish flashes of Val and clients played in her head. She pushed against Adam’s chest hard, launching herself off his lap. She fell to the floor and began scrambling backwards, and Adam didn’t know what just happened.

“Fuck, (Name)?”

Adam stood from the couch and (Name) raised her arms above her head like he was going to strike her. Adam was concerned and put his hands up in a disarming gesture. “(Name), it’s me.”

Recognition flashed in (Name)’s wild eyes. “Adam, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I know I initiated and it isn’t fair that I stopped–” Adam cut her off. “Isn’t fair? (Name), you can always say no. I’m sorry I scared you. I shouldn’t have gone so fast.”

“No, I wanted it,” (Name) insisted. “But then… I don’t know. I got triggered I guess.”

Adam carefully approached her, crouching down in front of her. “Because of Val?” he asked quietly. (Name) nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek.

“One more month,” Adam promised. “One more month and you’ll be free. He’ll never hurt you again.”

“But… I won’t be free. You’ll own my soul. Oh god… was that your plan the whole time? Do you just want me for sex?”

Adam shook his head vehemently. “No, babe, of course not. I don’t plan on keeping your soul, I’m going to free you. Plus, I’m pretty sure it’s against like, a fuck ton of rules for an angel to own another soul.”

“Fuck,” (Name) buried her face in her hands. “Of course. I’m so sorry I accused you–” “Hey.”

Adam carefully reached out, taking her hands in his. They were so small in comparison. “Look at me.”

(Name) did, blinking at him through tears.

“I’m not using you for sex, but you have every right to be suspicious. I’m not offended. You’ve been used by everyone in your life and I don’t expect you to trust me at my word that I’m different. I’ll have to prove it to you, and I’m more than fucking fine with that.”

(Name) sobbed, throwing herself into Adam. He caught her and fell on his ass, and they sat there like that for a good five minutes, embracing. Adam’s wings wrapped around them.

“Thank you,” (Name) cried. Adam shook his head. “Don’t thank me for treating you like a person.”

Finally, (Name) calmed down, climbing out of Adam’s lap.

“Fuck,” Adam said, back to himself. “Are the waterworks done? You pussy.” (Name) sniffed and smiled.

There was the Adam she knew best.

#hazbin adam #adam x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin vaggie #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel #hazbin lute #x reader #oneshots #oneshot #hazbin lucifer #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin niffty #hazbin valentino

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backinmyphase · 4 months ago

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Who will you be tonight?

Synopsis: In the night you try to get the 'King of thieves' behind bars, while in the day the thieve is celebrated by the whole world- even by the little boy you babysit and his annoying uncle Sukuna Ryomen.

Pairing: Thieve! Sukuna x Detective! Reader

Warnings: fem! reader, pet names, a bit of cursing, crimes, maybe a bit ooc Sukuna

Word count: 3.2k

"There he is! Get him!"

Sirens were playing, alarming everyone in the building that the danger was near. Danger for the lovely diamond that was trying to be protected. That he was hear.

The king of thieves.

Tonight would be different. The reign of his crimes would fall down. His cockiness finally biting him back. The big diamond you were assigned to finally safe.

"I have to say, Mrs. Detective…" your client Mr. Suzuki spoke. "We have to thank you. The work is flawless, like always."

Mr. Suzuki was trying to get this thieve, who called himself a king, for a long time. The treasures in his possession being bait for the cocky bastard.

Just like you were trying to get him for a long time.

"It's not flawless if he gets away." you narrowed your eyes as you watched the screen. "So save your gratitude for later."

The diamond was a big one. Called 'the blue ocean' it was one of the most beautiful diamonds you have ever witnessed. And you have seen many, since you tried to protect them from him.

The diamond was on a pedestal, behind glass. On each side of the pedestal a police officer. Ready to strike the thieve. But that wasn't your work. No your plan had something else in it.

"The pedestal has a sensory of the weight, which is on it. Is the diamond removed, even just slightly moved, a sleeping gas will be released." you muttered for yourself.

"We did like you said-" Mr. Suzuki started but you raised your hand to hush him.

"And since he will come through the roof like a madman…" you finished your thoughts. "We stationed many guards there. And even if he got the diamond, he will be trapped inside the room, because of the sensory."

"Impressing, like always." Mr. Suzuki nodded.

The cameras showed the lights in the room flickering. The guards looking around, but there was nothing in sight. No one in sight.

"And you really don't want to be mentioned by name when we write about our victory?" The business man looked at you confused.

"Not in a million years." you shook your head. "I don't want people standing before my door because I destroyed their Thieve romance fantasy. I want to stay anonymous."

It was a crazy world. The tabloids reported the failed attempts of capturing the infamous king of thieves like he was a genius. And the people loved this mysterious man who vanished right in front of the officers.

Your walkie talkie made a sound. "He was seen near the art collection, but since then he vanished." The inspector Mikaru spoke. "He could have gone through the vent there, we will station some guards outside the office of Mr. Suzuki."

"Wait." your mind was running wild. "He could, but that isn't the only possibility."

You heard him grinding his teeth. "But that is the only way out of the gallery. You know that, little Mrs. Detective."

"I do." you looked back at the screen. "But that's just if we think he really went in there. He is a master of disguise. The police man who told you that, could be him. So don't change our position. The top priority is the diamond."

After a couple seconds of silence he sighed. "Yes, Mrs. Detective." The connection broke up.

You had him. The last months of humiliation were finally finished. Tonight would be different.

"What is going on there?" Mr. Suzuki pointed at the second screen, which showed the roof. The guards there running towards something, or someone but you couldn't see what. Then the camera turned black.

"He is on hunt." you smiled to yourself.

"Listen up!" you activated your second walkie talkie again, that was connected to the guards near the diamond. "He is coming. Be on guard."

You broke the connection and watched the last screen.

And then the lights went out. Only darkness and shadows were visible as you knew that he was in there. But he could try like he wanted. He couldn't leave with the diamond.

"Come on…" your voice was not louder than a whisper. "Get him!"

The lights went on again. The guards laying on the ground, the sleeping gas having affected the room. The locked door still untouched. But behind the flawless glass the diamond wasn't in sight.

"NO!" you shook the screen before you. "THAT CAN'T-"

"A smart plan really."

And you knew it was that arrogant asshole, when your walkie talkie spoke again.

"I see the princess has decoded my message rightfully. But next time you have to try harder."

"Oh don't worry I will get you." your teeth were pressed together like never before. "Just wait and see."

"If you say so." His deep voice chuckling. "Till next time, My Lady."

With that the connection broke. And you knew he had escaped right in front of your nose. Again.

"Fuck!"

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"And like always the great thieve escaped!" yuuji jumped as he read the tabloid that trended right now.

The little boy was eating those stories up, what wasn't surprising. Many people loved the story of an 'elegant' criminal.

"I think that's enough of screen time." you took the IPad from him, as he whined loudly.

"But I haven't read the interviews yet!" the six-year old hated reading, but if it was about his 'idol' he was practically begging you.

"I don't think that's necessary." you hated to deny the boy, what wasn't ideal since you were his babysitter, but you couldn't keep talking and thinking about yesterday. About your failure.

"Please! I will clean my room! Or… Pay you!" yuuji jumped up and down as he followed you. You laughed as you placed his IPad on the closet so he couldn't take it again.

"You should clean your room regardless. And your parents pay me already." you tried to ignore his puppy eyes. "Let's go to the park instead. We can go for hot chocolate!"

His face lit up. "Okay-"

"Why not let him read the article?" Like always Sukuna interrupted your session of babysitting his nephew with a cocky smile. He went down the stairs and stood there with such confidence you wanted to smack him. "I see no harm."

"Shouldn't you be in your own apartment?" you raised an eyebrow at him. "I heard you finally got a job."

He gasped. "I always had a job! And why do I have to hear that from the babysitter?"

"I have another job too." you narrowed your eyes at his remark. "And you didn't answer my question."

He tilted his head. "Neither did you."

You felt your face heating up, because of the anger that came up when you thought back to yesterday. And your usual banter with Sukuna just made your frustration worse.

Of course he was a fanboy too.

"I want to go get hot chocolate!" yuuji pulled at your hand impatiently. "Can we go??"

"Yeah, get your jacket. It's cold outside." you smiled at the little boy as he hurried to the wardrobe.

"Why not let him read about the king of thieves?" Sukuna kept pestering you as you took the spare keys.

"He had enough screen time for the day. I'm not getting paid for letting him be on the IPad the whole day." you shook your head. "Now why are you here?"

He raised an eyebrow at your obvious excuse. "I couldn't make it home yesterday so I slept here. My brother still has a room for me when I stop by."

"You sure you have a job? Or are you just selling drugs?" you backed up a bit. "Because you look a bit high."

"First of all." he followed you to the wardrobe. "Selling is still a job. Secondly I would have to buy them to be high, not sell them. And no, sweetheart, I don't sell drugs on the street."

"No, he is a good painter!" yuuji practically spawned next to you out of the sudden. "He is really good!"

You couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Oh is that so?"

Sukuna shook his head as he petted yuuji's head a little bit harsh. "That's just a hobby."

"Well whatever it is, it's not important right now." you took yuujis hand. "We have a café we have to go to."

"Why can't Uncle Sukuna come with?" yuuji looked up at you confused.

"Yeah, why can't I come with?" Sukuna tilted his head again with this smile.

"Because I'm sure he has things to do." you opened the door. "Now let's go, Yuuji."

"Do you have things to do?" Yuuji didn't move, just looked at his Uncle.

"No, nothing."

"Then can he please come with us??" yuuji now pulled your hand and you made this time the mistake to look at his puppy eyes. "Pleeeease?"

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

"He is so cool! His cards are so fancy and how he is tricking the detectives is so cooool!!" Like usual when you were babysitting when Sukuna was around, Yuuji gushed over the so called 'king of thieves' .

"I hear you kid. It's really impressive how the police officers can't even get him, even though he tells them when and how he will do it." Sukuna took a sip out of his black coffee.

"He doesn't just tell him. He makes riddles that confuse the police, they are not that stupid." you hated this dumb gushing over a criminal. A. Criminal!

"That's so smart!" yuuji clapped with those big eyes that you couldn't be mad at him. He was just a kid who found it exciting.

"Well, the press would say otherwise." But you could be mad at the adult here, gushing over the criminal. "They are not talking nice about the police."

You wanted to smack the smile from his face. "Well, if you mean all the tabloids, yes they are not talking nice. Like always."

The hot chocolate here was really good. You always took Yuuji here, he loved it. It was nice seeing him so sincerely happy. Yuuji was like the little brother you always wanted.

"Oh, they are talking nice about the Detective who helped the police. Something along the lines 'The only competent person there' and 'Police would be doomed without'." Sukuna glanced at Yuuji, who burned his tongue.

"Really? Are they that smart?" Yuuji looked up shocked, his face red, because of the slight burn.

Before you could say something, the man surprised you. "Oh they are!" Sukuna looked smugly at his nephew.

"Some say the police only knew that the king of thieves would come, because the detective solved his riddle!"

"That's sooo cool!" Yuuji's eyes became un normally big again. And you would never admit it but it felt nice to have them talking about you like that.

"You know awfully a lot about this whole case." you couldn't help the little smirk that stole itself on your face.

"Well I do work at the police, sooo…"

"You do?!" you couldn't believe what you were hearing. Sukuna? Working in the police department? That doesn't add up.

"Yeah. In the administration, so I'm not a police officer, but still." he shrugged and looked at his watch.

You didn't really know Sukuna. He was the younger brother of your client. In short you were only the babysitter of his nephew. But Sukuna made his way into your sessions regardless and even this wasn't the first time he came with to drink coffee.

The only thing you were certain of, was that he was a big fanboy for that arrogant bastard of a thieve.

The first time you met him was not your best hour. It was the day after your first failure of capturing that thieve. The times after, the 'king of thieves' always taunted specifically you in his notes.

And while you tried to swallow your pride and take good care of yuuji, Sukuna showed up. And Yuuji wanted to talk about this really super cool thieve that was in the media.

Not your best moment.

"And you don't think he is a little bit cool?"

You shook your head and tried to not let your destain show. "He is a criminal for God's sake! Why should I start to admire him, just because he escaped? That's such a stupid reason."

"I see your point." he laughed a bit. "But he did bring the jewel back, so I see no harm."

"Maybe you see no harm." you gritted your teeth. "But that doesn't make it right. That thieve is just an arrogant asshole who makes himself feel better by showing how much he can do. How much the security and police suck. Instead of fixing anything, he let's himself be celebrated."

After that Sukuna was a bit taken back you could see that. But as you saw his almost smug smile you knew that he didn't understood you.

Yeah, your destain did make it through that day. And since then Sukuna always talked about this thieve with Yuuji when he came by. Trying to get a reaction out of you.

And to know that he works at the police? Even though he was such a fan? Hard to believe. But you somehow did believe it, just because he looked so serious about it.

"We should head back." you looked at the watch on the wall, while Yuuji whined.

"Nooooo, please no!" he looked at his uncle. "Unc, you would like to stay, right?"

Sukuna smiled apologetic at his nephew. "No, I have to go too. And you have to listen to your babysitter Yuuji."

Yuuji didn't look thrilled. His cup of hot chocolate long empty he frowned. "I have to go to the toilet." he mumbled and stood up.

"Okay, but no locking yourself up there!" you called after him. You gave the employee a sign that you wanted to pay, and packed your things.

"So, what do you have in mind for the rest of the day?" He leaned a bit forward and had this smile again.

"Well I do have something to do after I am done babysitting, if that's what you mean. But I don't have to tell you what it is." In fact you had to solve the new note that came in.

That thieve brought the diamond back this morning with a note. A new riddle and challenge especially for you.

"What, you have a date or something?" he didn't smile so smugly anymore.

A date? You couldn't help but laugh a bit at that. "No, I wouldn't say that."

"Well I have to get going." Sukuna stood up while taking his things. "And good luck. I think Yuuji locked himself in the toilet."

"What?!" you looked at the toilet door and hurried at it. "Yuuji, get out at this instant!"

Sukuna only laughed as he left.

"But I want another hot chocolate!" you could hear his pouting.

"Maybe some other day, Yuuji. But it's late and if you don't get out you won't get any for a week." you tried sounding as mad as possible. "So come on!"

A very guilty looking Yuuji came out of the bathroom and got finally ready to leave. "Okay, sorry.."

"It's alright, just don't try to force anything. Talk to me, okay?" you gave him his jacket from the tall wardrobe and went to the cashier.

"We were on table 3. Can I pay now?"

But the cashier smiled at you knowingly. "The handsome man that sat with you two already that, don't worry."

Oh, did he?

"Can we go and watch the show where they talk about yesterday?" Yuuji pulled impatiently your hand and you couldn't help but smile.

"I guess we could."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

"I'm sorry for all the difficulties we give you." The police officer that gave you the note that evening seemed really ashamed.

"It's not a problem." You weren't mad at those poor officers for the difficulties that he was giving you.

The police department was almost empty as you made room in your office. The same in which you were yesterday. All the things still in place, the screens, the walkie talkies and your notes.

It was a mess.

"Alright, concentrate." You looked at the small piece of paper. "Let's get this over with."

Dear Ms Detective, I hope you are not too mad, but this isn't the jewel I hoped it was. The blue is beautiful but I think My lady deserves better.

Your favorite Thieve.

Now this wasn't like the riddles before. No it was just straight up taunting. There was no hidden message, nothing that could tell you when and what he would steal next.

He was messing with you. That entitled asshole was messing with you.

"Rhhhhhhrr…"

"AH!" the sudden rustling behind you caught you of guard. And as you looked back you saw your second walkie talkie making noises.

Was one of the officers trying to reach you? Why over that thing when there was no mission?

"Hello?" you spoke into it and the rustling stopped.

Maybe it was just a technical issue with the old thing and you should swap it out. You looked back at the note. If only you could just see right through him-

"Hello. Have you gotten my message?" You couldn't help but look at your walkie talkie in horror. "I hope you are not that mad."

You knew it was that thieve. He still had the walkie talkie from yesterday. And now he was speaking to you. The criminal was speaking to you!

"I have gotten your taunting, yes." you tried to sound as nonchalant as possible. "And there is no riddle for the next time. You tired of stealing?"

The chuckle that came after that was so familiar. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but no I don't have any riddle right now."

This was surreal. Why was- "Why are you speaking to me?"

There was a couple seconds of silence after that. If only you could hear his real voice. But the bad quality of the walkie talkie made that really hard.

"Well," he stopped again, but even though it was so bad quality, you could still hear his smirk. "I wanted to ask you out on a date."

"What?!" all nonchalance was thrown out of the window, you were caught of guard.

"Maybe next friday? I like it when the moon is high up. And I haven't danced in a long time…"

"What are you talking about? Why, what, why??" you were so confused and you hated that your face was growing red.

"What's your answer?"

What the hell was he trying to achieve right now? Why was he telling you-

Wait a second.

Next Friday was the Exhibition of the Suzuki concern. And the old with juwels set heels of the princess Saiko are there. Her old dance shoes.

Called the love dancers.

"You mean in the exhibition?" you couldn't help but smile. It was so nice to understand his games.

"Well, I was thinking of that, yes." he sounded satisfied.

"Then the game is on."

"So it's a date?"

"Oh, shut up."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

#jjk x reader #jjk #sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x you #enemies to lovers #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #Why is my writing so lackyyyyy #Baby yuuji #jjk x you #sukuna x y/n #Crime is bad guys

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fire-lizard-ro · 1 year ago

Note

Hi Roro, hope you’re doing well! Let me start by saying your Sunday stuff is MAGNIFICENT, oh my gosh this MAN-

I’ve come with a request for you…

Dr. Veritas Ratio x fem or gn reader. Bathtub. Sex. Like most of the time he’s only interested in reading in the tub, rejecting reader’s advances. But one day, idk, he’s in a MOOD but he doesn’t want to admit it, so he lets reader go a little further than normal with her advances, but he’s still being petty about it, kinda denying and still trying to read his book or whatever and it just Escalates eventually…

Aaaa thank you so much if you decide to do my request! Remember to take breaks and stay hydrated!

I'm ILL over this man jfc-

Dr. Ratio here to prescribe you with a dose of vitamin D-//SHOT

Veri, my love, please just one chance I'm begging just a crumb oisego-

But yesssss gimme the bathtube sex I want it- I wanna do all kinds of wild things to or with this man. Crazy.

But hehehe I know what you are. 👁️👁️

A s i m p . 🫵 (Like I'm any better.)

And thank you!!! This took a While, but I did it. I had lots of fun with it so feel free to request again~

CW and writing under the cut:

CW: vagina and cock (gasp), PIV sex, cockwarming, rough sex, hair pulling, choking (+some breath play), cumming inside (wrap it before you tap it folks), spanking, degradation+praise, objectification, kinda sorta human furniture thing???, name calling (ex:slut), use of words like "cunt" (wow that feels weird writing here-), marking, ignoring you during cockwarming, doggy position(?), cum play, holding your hands behind your back, discussion of safe wording (check-ins), kinda cum as lube?, funishment, d/s aspects to the relationship (though you are dating for romantic reasons as well), slight pussy slapping, talking to your pussy (I know this man a freak <333), crying during sex (+dacryphilia), dumbification (ofc this was gonna be here), ruined orgasm, edging, slight cum eating, a liiiiittle bit of gagging (w/ fingers), usage of "pet" exactly once

Reader gender: fem (I talked with anon separately and they decided on this when I asked for preference- I also only have one fem reader ask. If people want, I can write another version tweaked to be gn or AMAB/male reader~)

Disclaimers:

>>>Dr. Ratio will be referred to as Veritas here since reader is dating him.

>>>This was written and almost finished before 1.6 release.

Bathtub sex, surprisingly, probably isn't the norm for you two. After all, Veritas (oml it feels weird calling him that after so long of calling him Ratio-) enjoys his down time in the bath where he can relax with you and read his books. I like to think that it's one of the few times when his ever racing mind is a bit quieter. So when you are finally pent up enough at just the right time to want to pounce on him in the tub, he's a bit surpised at first. But the surprise would soon melt into mild annoyance. "Can't you just stay still? Quit it- I'm trying to read."

Of course he says it in that ever dramatic way of his while not even glancing up from his book. Speaking of said book- "You're going to get my book wet, darling-" (Yes, he's a "darling" kind of guy. It's sophisticated as he is. And you know he'd say it with that drawl of his and drag the word out. Sometimes in those more intimate moments, it sounds almost like a sultry purr with the way he says it, commanding all your attention.) "And if you do that, you know I'm going to have to punish you, hm?" You almost want it if it means he'd touch you where you want him, but you know that his punishments aren't necessarily fun. Yet still you like them all the same.

(They're more of funishments than punishments in this case- Please do know that funishments and punishments aren't the same, my dear little kinksters~ Since the reader actually enjoys these "punishments" a lot and they are done for their and Veritas' mutual gratification, it's a funishment. These are normally for bratting behavior while actual punishments are for serious things and are meant to actually discourage the behavior that earned you the punishment. Hopefully I explanied it well, lololol-)

But of course you continue to try and rouse his interest, touching him here and there. It reaches the point where you manage to wiggle your way between his arms, in front of his book. Not only does this block his view, but you're dripping water all over his book! (It was all of one or two droplets.) If you listened close enough, you'd probably have heard the sound of his reason breaking in that moment. Like you had poked a sleeping bear one too many times. (And some little part of himself that knew it was also partly because he also was getting into a mood was squashed. Of course it was just because you needed to be disciplined.)

"That's it. You want my attention, darling? Well now you have it.” There was something dark in his voice that sent a shiver down your back and made your nethers tingle in anticipation. He snapped the book closed and set it on the table by the bathtub almost gently, a stark contrast between how his voice sounded and how he was looking at you. He'd tilt his head and consider you, seemingly thinking about how best to punish you for your transgressions. "Hands on my shoulders and do not move them. Color?" Veritas was launching right into it, huh? "Green." "Good."

With hands on his strong shoulders, you watched him with eyes darting around his form to try and figure out what he'd do. Your question was answered by a hand gripping your hip and another dragging down between your breasts, then over your belly, then stopping on your mound. He didn't move any lower, fingers thrumming there just above where you wanted him. Teasing. "I can see your cunt drooling from here. Was she just so hungry that you couldn't be good and hold it until we were out of the tub?" Heat bloomed in your cheeks as he spoke. "Should I punish her? Hm?" Veritas gave your wetness a few light slaps, just enough to make you jolt but not enough to do more than just barely sting. "No- It isn't her fault she's so empty and wanting. But it is your fault that you couldn't be obedient and wait. Isn't that right, my cute little slut?" He whispered in your ear, leaned forward to curl possessively over you while his fingers slipped down to trace around your twitching hole as it tried to suck his finger in.

"Mmmmm..." he hummed lowly, the sound vibrating against you where your chests were pressed together. He kissed the spot beneath your ear before his lips marked a path down your neck, sucking and nipping marks into the tender flesh there. Just as he reached the junction between your neck and shoulder, he suddenly sunk his teeth in and thrusted two fingers into you at the same time. Veritas had sneakily wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you still right before so you weren't able to squirm away from his teeth or his fingers that now plunged in and out of you, agonizingly slow after that fast, rough entry.

The man pressed a kiss to your new bitemark before sliding the hand of the arm around your waist up your back to latch onto your nape and hold you still for a kiss. He chuckled into it as you attempted to fight him for dominance, your tongues clashing. Ultimately, he won and was now devouring your mouth, licking into it with fervor.

At some point, his fingers began to speed up. Veritas was fingerfucking you with his palm slapping against your throbbing clit. And right as you felt yourself begin that climb- He slowed down, his thrusts going back to a leisurely rhythm. He swallowed the whine that left your throat, smirking into the kiss you were still locked in. As he pulled away, he looked incredibly smug. "Thought it would be that easy? Of course not. This is a punishment.”

He did this another time, bringing you close to the rise of pleasure (not at all that close to your peak, though) before going frustratingly slowing. The third time, however... It didn't seem that he was going to stop, and you felt it build and build inside you like a white hot flame. And right as you were reaching the end... He spanked you and ripped his fingers out, sending you over the edge but ruining your orgasm. It had tears beading in your eyes. Fuck did that make him want to fuck you absolutely stupid, but he had more control than that. Your punishment was far from over.

He soothingly ran his hand over your back as you leaned into him, body shivering. "Color?" Through your panting breaths, you managed a weak, "Green." "Good girl." He didn't let you rest any longer, manhandling you into a new position. Now you were leaned over the edge of the tub with your hands keeping you from falling out, Veritas behind you. "I'm going to fuck you now, and you're going to take it all like a good girl, right?" At first you thought he was talking to you, but then he caressed your slit and cooed at it. That mixed sense of shame and arousal shot through you and had you clenching around nothing, making Veritas laugh condescendingly. "So honest..."

Again he started out slow, the sensual slide of his cock inside of your pussy making you close your eyes to focus on the pleasure he was giving you. But he was faster to ramp things up now that he'd already edged you and ruined one of your orgasms. It may or may not have also been because he was quite ready to slake his own lust with your body.

The only reason you didn't slam your face into the tub's edge or fall out was Veritas' grip on you when he grabbed both of your wrists and pulled your arms behind your back. You felt a hand slide into your hair and then he was thrusting into you hard, the slap of his hips slamming into your ass loud in the confined space of the bathroom. It was obscene the way you could even hear the wet sound of his cock going in and out of you amplified by the natural acoustics of said bathroom. "You like hearing how well you take me, slut? I certainly do. It's filthy. Fitting-"

Your hips are bruising from them being pressed onto the edge of the tub, bumping into it with almost every thrust. It hurt but fuck did it all feel so good because he was pressing against your sweet spot every time he fucked into your wet hole.

The hand pulling your head back by your hair let go only to wrap around your throat and pull you up so your back pressed against his chest. "Fuck you sound like such a whore right now. Are you my good little whore? Just for me?" Of course you couldn't answer because your mind was blank from his hand pressing just right to cut off some of that blood flow. Oh and because he had also just tilted his hand to cut off your air. He held for a bit, waiting until your vision was a bit fuzzy at the edges before letting you breathe, the feeling of the air rushing back into your lungs making you dizzy. You felt so close you could scream- And then you nearly did when he pulled out and stopped your orgasm.

His hands let go of you and you nearly keeled over, but he caught you. With an arm around your waist, you couldn't tell what he was doing behind you until you heard the slick sound of him fisting his cock. Right as he began cumming, he slammed back into you to fill you with it while biting down hard on the back of your neck. Another bite to mark you as his.

Veritas then pulled out so the last few spurts of cum would paint your labia in white, marking you inside and out with his spend.

You could feel the frustrated tears pouring down your face as you felt your burning arousal festering in your belly and the mix of embarrassment and thrill at his actions. Fuck this man would be the end of you. He unlatched from your neck to lean forward and lick the tears off your face with a hum. "You look so pretty like this..." He patted your ass before that same hand was sliding down to open you up using your pussy lips as he leaned back to watch as the cum he poured into you began to slip out.

Scooping up the cum that had dribbled out, he fingered it back in, purposefully tapping at your gspot a few times. He then pulled the white covered fingers out and petted your clit, playing with it a little before bringing it to your face. "Clean them off." Your tongue kitten licked some of it off before he was shoving them in your mouth. You gagged a little, drooling over his fingers while weakly sliding your tongue over them to clean them of the cum clinging to them.

"Good girl," he praised with a kiss to your jaw before he let out a sigh. "I'm going to sit you on my cock and finish my reading. Color?" "Green, fuck-" "That's a good pet."

Warming his cock while leaned forward to rest your arms on the lip of the tub while your head rested on those was hard. You desperately wanted to cum, but you now were willing to be obedient to get what you wanted. You weren't sure how much more punishment you could take. It didn't help that he had an arm resting on the back of your hips, slung over them as he leaned on you a bit while his other arm rested atop the other one. That hand was holding up his book. He wasn't touching you besides that and your ass resting in the cradle of his hips, cock deep inside your pussy which still fluttered around his thickness occasionally. Every time you squirmed he would spank you with a pointed look before going back to his book, ignoring you entirely. Any whining or talking would be met with the same treatment.

He checked in on you after a bit. "Color?" "...yellow." His demeanor changed immedately. Petting your side, he eased you back to lean against him once more. "What's wrong, baby?" He typically saved that endearment for intimate moments alone together and times like this where you might need reassurance. "I wanna see your face... wanna hold you." It seemed you might be a bit sensitive, now, after being punished for a while and needed that from him. "Of course, baby. Your punishment is almost over. I'll let you come soon and we can continue in the bedroom, hm?" You loved this man. "Okay." He kissed your forehead. "Good girl."

He slipped out, making you whine. It was met with a chuckle and he helped you turn around to slide into his lap again, this time facing him.

Veritas pulled you to rest against him, tucking you into his neck as he wrapped an arm around your waist. Once you both were settled in, he went back to reading. He still ignored you, but it wasn't so bad this time.

You knew he was done when he set his book on the table again.

He settled his grip on your hips before going straight into fucking up into you hard and fast, what cum was still left in you from his cock plugging it in you aiding the slide of dick in and out of you. He fucked you and played with you until you felt like you couldn't think straight. Even when he asked you questions, knowing you couldn't answer, you weren't quite sure what you said. Whether it was even coherent or not.

"Such a cute, dumb girl for me."

As you came around his cock again, you moaned as you felt the warmth of his cum in you. "Did so, so good for me. Such a good girl." Veritas gave you some time to come down from your high before asking. "Do you want to continue in the bedroom or are you finished for the night?" "...m' done." "Alright, baby." He gave you some more time before cleaning you up and draining the tub. Another kiss was pressed to your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips. "Let's go to bed, darling. I'll take care of you."

Lololol hopefully you like it. 🙏

If there’s any typos or if it doesn’t make sense somewhere… Your honor my client claims “oopsie daisy”. It’s me. The client is me, your honor-

#Roro writes #asks answered #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio smut #fem reader #hsr x female reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr dr ratio #honkai star rail dr. ratio x reader #hsr Dr. Ratio x reader #Dr. Ratio x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #smut

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redroomreflections · 7 months ago

Text

Hotel California | Track 2 - Electric Desires

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 7.2k

Chapter 2/12

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: Each chapter is hella long because I had time to sit and wait to release this one. Weekly updates might be the wave.

R and Nat will be moving quickly so if you like slow burn this isn't the story lol.

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

Natasha sat cross-legged on the worn-out couch in their cluttered studio: which was just Tony’s garage. The room buzzed with creative energy and the faint scent of old leather, a familiar combination that fueled the essence of Velvet Rebellion. She strummed her guitar absentmindedly, her fingers dancing over the fretboard, creating a gentle hum in the room. She was in her element in full force.

Steve, Bucky, Wanda, and Tony were huddled around a battered coffee table, scraps of lyrics, and scribbled notes strewn about like confetti after a wild party. They were her bandmates, her comrades in music, and tonight they were deep into a songwriting session. Natasha enjoyed days like this the most. She often found the songwriting process frustrating but fulfilling, which is why they’re on hour four of this session with only the first verse written. It seems she’s not the only one with writer’s block.

"Natasha, we need something here," Steve’s voice cut through the room's creative haze. He furrowed his brow, fingers dancing over the keys of a vintage synthesizer. "A melody to tie this verse together."

Natasha tore her gaze away from her guitar and glanced over at Wanda. Her fingers stopped mid-strum. She blinked; her thoughts momentarily disrupted.

"Nat, you with us?" Tony chimed in, his eyes darting between Natasha and his laptop.

A flush of embarrassment washed over Natasha. She'd been lost in thought, her mind wandering where it shouldn't have. She’d been thinking about you again. She couldn’t get you out of her head. There was a hint of exhaustion on her features as she sat her guitar next to her. She’d spent the previous night going down a rabbit hole of YouTube videos involving you. It seemed you’d understated how good of a musician you were. Natasha discovered you had a small fanbase with plenty of videos dedicated to your brief yet impactful career. Even if your resume included a lot of backup singing, she could see why there was a push for you to strive for something more. You were talented in every sense of the word.

With a sheepish smile, she nodded. "Sorry, guys. Got a bit distracted there."

She fumbled to put her phone face down on the coffee table, hoping her bandmates hadn't noticed her constant glances at the silent screen. Natasha had been replaying every moment of your brief encounter at the party in her mind, questioning if she'd made a connection or if it was just another fleeting moment.

Steve’s fingers continued their dance on the synthesizer as he tried out different melodies, his voice soft, almost hypnotic. "No worries, Nat. Happens to the best of us."

But Natasha couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration with herself. She was the lead singer and lyricist and usually held everything together. Yet today, her mind was scattered, torn between music and an unexpected, lingering hope that her phone would light up with a message from someone she'd barely known.

Natasha's fingers deftly reached for her well-worn writing book, nestled among scattered lyrics and half-finished songs. Her eyes scanned the pages, searching for something that had evaded her for far too long. Her bandmates carried on their musical discussion, oblivious to her momentary distraction.

Finally, she found it—a scribbled idea that had haunted her thoughts for weeks but had remained unreachable, refusing to take a tangible form. Natasha's heart raced as she read the words, her handwriting staring back at her, challenging her to bring them to life.

"Guys, hold on a sec," she called out, her voice trembling with excitement. Her bandmates stopped their conversation, turning their attention to her. Natasha's fingers tapped the page she'd found. "I think I've got something."

Wanda leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "What is it?"

Natasha cleared her throat and began to read the lyrics she'd unearthed, her voice carrying a hint of the sweet melody she envisioned:

"Underneath the city lights, I saw your face,

In the crowded room, you were my saving grace.

A glance, a smile, it all fell into place,

In that moment, I knew, love's tender embrace."

As Natasha recited the lyrics, Wanda's eyes widened, and she nodded appreciatively. "That's beautiful, Natasha."

Natasha couldn't help but blush at the compliment. She felt the lyrics were deeply personal, a reflection of the emotions she'd been grappling with. "Thanks, Wanda. But I think it's missing something."

Wanda leaned in closer, her fingers lightly grazing Natasha's arm as they huddled together over the writing book. "What do you have in mind?"

A spark of inspiration flickered in Natasha's eyes. "How about this? Instead of just a glance and a smile, it's about meeting someone and falling in love at first sight. The moment your heart skips a beat."

Wanda's lips curved into a knowing smile. "I like that. It adds depth to the story."

With renewed enthusiasm, Natasha began to sing the modified lyrics, her voice filled with emotion:

"In the heart of the city, I met your eyes,

In that instant, I felt my soul take flight.

Love at first sight, a sweet surprise,

Two worlds colliding, under starry skies."

The words flowed effortlessly, weaving a sweet melody that resonated with everyone in the room. Sitting behind his drum kit, Tony started tapping a rhythm, adding a pulsating beat to the song. Steve found his way back to the keyboard, his fingers searching for the chords that matched the melody.

The studio came alive with the energy of collaboration as they played off each other, improvising and experimenting. Wanda's voice dipped into low notes, adding a haunting harmony, while Tony began to find a mix to add to the music.

It wasn't the final product but the magic of creation—their music taking shape from a mere spark of inspiration. Natasha couldn't help but smile as they continued to refine the song.

Bucky sat down his guitar, a sly grin playing on his lips as the melody they'd created together hung in the air. He couldn't help but feel a shift in Natasha's usual songwriting style, one that intrigued him. "Nat, you're getting into writing love songs now?"

Natasha shot him a playful yet challenging look, her fingers still scribbling along the notebook pages. "Oh, please, Bucky. We had love songs on our first album."

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. "Not like this. These lyrics, they're something else."

Natasha sighed, closing the tiny notebook again. She knew he was right, and she couldn't deny the shift in her lyrics and her emotions. "Alright, fine. Maybe I am writing a love song."

Bucky leaned forward, his gaze intense. "So, are you in love, Natasha?"

She met his gaze head-on. "No, Bucky. I'm not."

Bucky nodded in understanding, sensing the unspoken annoyance in her words. Natasha had always been guarded about matters of the heart, and they respected her boundaries. They returned to their instruments, each lost in their thoughts, letting the music speak the words that couldn't be said.

********************

The leotard store was an arrangement of colors, and Isabella, your spirited nine-year-old daughter, was bouncing between the racks, playing her own game of hide-and-seek with the endless collection of spandex. Her enthusiasm for picking out leotards rivaled her passion for gymnastics.

"Mama, check this one out! It's super sparkly!" Isabella shouted, triumphantly holding up a leotard adorned with sequins like a little treasure hunter.

You and Monica shared a knowing smile as you surveyed the options. "Great choice, Bella," you replied, trying to match her enthusiasm. "Let's add it to the pile."

Isabella nodded, seemingly satisfied, and skipped off in pursuit of her next leotard conquest.

As Monica and you continued your search, your mind drifted back to a conversation you’d had at Harley's party just a couple of weeks ago. There was a woman there, a stranger to you, who had engaged you in a conversation that had held your attention for longer than you’d expected.

"Hey, y/n" Monica began, her tone a mix of curiosity and amusement. She sifted through the clothes, trying to understand what she was looking for. Isabella had a very specific taste.�� "Are you going to finally tell me about the woman from the party? You two seemed to be hitting it off."

You glanced at Monica, feeling somewhat caught off guard. "Oh, that? It was just a casual conversation. I doubt it's anything worth dwelling on."

Monica raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with your dismissal. "Just a casual conversation? You looked pretty into her. What's her name?"

You sighed, knowing Monica wouldn't let it go quickly. "Her name is Natasha Romanoff. She’s the lead singer of that band. Velvet Rebellion. We talked for a while. But honestly, I haven't reached out to her or anything." You shrugged.

Monica persisted, undeterred. "She’s cute. I’ve heard a couple of their songs in passing. Why haven’t you called her?"

You shifted uncomfortably, your fingers unconsciously fussing with a leotard on the rack. "Life's been hectic lately. I've barely had a moment to breathe, let alone call someone."

Isabella, who had overheard your conversation while meticulously assessing leotards with the discerning eye of a seasoned fashion critic, joined in. "Mom, you should call her."

You couldn't help but smile at Isabella's straightforward logic. "You focus on the leotards. You only need a few for now. You’re growing like a weed."

Monica and Isabella exchanged amused glances, both united in their disbelief. "The kid is right," Monica declared, her eyes dancing with mischief.

Isabella nodded in agreement, adding her hint of authority. "I’m just saying." She held up a pink leotard and you shook your head. The cut wasn’t appropriate in your opinion. She returned the leotard to the rack with a sigh and went to a new one.

Monica's curiosity was relentless, and she wasn't about to let the topic of the woman from Harley's party go. As you continued looking through the racks with Isabella's energy bounding around you, she probed further.

"Come on, y/n, what's the big deal about calling her?" Monica inquired, a mischievous glint in her eye.

You sighed, trying to choose your words carefully. "Mon, you know their band's reputation. The tabloids haven’t been so easy on them. Especially with them being new. Trust me I’ve checked.” You shook your head. “And besides, Natasha used to date Carol Danvers. We’re not friends, but we’re not exactly enemies either. I’m not in the business of going behind her back. It was a bad breakup if it’s anything like the tabloids say and I don't want to risk the same fate."

Monica raised an eyebrow, her expression one of bemused disbelief. “You're not even dating this Natasha person yet. It could be a fun fling or something. You don't have to jump into a full-blown relationship. Also, you hate Carol Danvers."

“I don’t hate her,” You refuted her claims. “I simply enjoy spending my time in spaces that don’t have her in them.” You couldn't deny Monica's point, but the cautious side of you still hesitated. "Also, I know it doesn’t have to be more than what it is. But I've been down that road before, and it wasn't pretty. Besides, I don't want to have this conversation in front of Isabella."

You leaned down to pass a few leotards to Isabella and whispered to her, "Sweetie, can you go find some shoes that match these leotards? That would be a big help."

Isabella nodded enthusiastically, her focus shifting from the leotards to her newfound mission. As she scampered off in search of the perfect shoes, you turned your attention back to Monica.

Monica gave you an understanding look, her voice lowered. "Alright, I get it, y/n, But don't let the past hold you back from something potentially great. You deserve happiness, too. Even if that means you fuck a few times and that’s it."

“Monica,” Your eyes widened, clearly scandalized by her bluntness.

“Am I lying?” Monica held up a hand. “When’s the last time you had some? You don’t know do you?”

“I do know. It hasn’t been that long.” You considered her words. You thought back to the very brief casual sex thing you had with a woman around last year. Or was it two years ago? “You’re right I don’t know.”

“See,” Monica leaned against a rack. “Ask her out to the party tonight. It’s a group thing. I get to vet her. You get to see her. We all win.”

“Fine, fine,” You shake your head.

“Call her now,” Monica nodded.

“Um, she’s probably busy.” You furrowed your brow. Another excuse from you.

“She’ll answer,” Monica said assuredly. “Do it or I’ll dm her myself.”

“Don’t you dare,” You held up a warning finger to Monica. Sometimes your best friend’s forwardness wasn’t welcome. Even if she meant well. She raised a brow at you before pointedly looking toward your purse. “Fine.” You grumbled as you took out your phone.

You walked to a quieter corner of the store, away from the bustle and the excited chatter of Isabella and Monica, who were now hunting for beam shoes. You scrolled through your contacts until you found Natasha's name. With a deep breath, you pressed the call button.

On the first ring, Natasha's voice came through, calm and confident. "Hello?"

You couldn't help but smile, though your attempt to sound equally composed might have come off as forced. "Hey, Natasha. How's everything going?"

“Oh, it’s you,” Natasha's tone change was evident. "Everything's good. I've been wondering when you'd call."

You felt a rush of relief hearing that she'd been waiting for your call. "I'm sorry it took me a while. Life's been crazy lately, and, well, you know how it is."

Natasha's tone shifted slightly, her voice carrying a hint of playfulness. "I do know. But you don't need to be nervous. It's just a call."

You chuckled softly, feeling a bit more at ease. "You're right. I've just been out of practice with this whole...courting thing."

“Courting? Is that what we’re doing?” Natasha's voice lowered, the flirtatious edge unmistakable. "Well, maybe we can help you get back into practice."

You couldn't help but blush, even though she couldn't see it over the phone. "That sounds like a plan."

Just then, you heard Isabella's excited voice in the background, likely showing off a pair of beam shoes she'd found. Natasha must have heard it too.

"Sounds like you've got company," Natasha noted.

Just as you were about to respond to Natasha, Isabella's excited voice carried through the phone in the background. "Mama, look at these beam shoes! They're so cool!"

You grinned and chuckled softly. "That's my daughter, Isabella."

Natasha's voice held a hint of warmth. "She sounds like a lively girl."

“She is,” You nodded. You give Isabella a thumbs-up and a smile. "Listen, Natasha," you began, "there's something I wanted to mention. There's a party tonight at this great club called Heatwave. Have you heard of it?”

“Yes, I’ve been there once or twice,” Natasha replied.

“Well, I don't usually go out much, but I'll be there. It would be great if you could join."

There was a brief pause on the other end, and then Natasha's voice returned, filled with a sense of anticipation. "Heatwave, huh? I'll stop by."

Your heart skipped a beat at her response. It seemed that, despite your initial hesitation, the possibility of something exciting and new was on the horizon, and you couldn't help but look forward to seeing Natasha at the party tonight.

“What time should I be there?” Natasha questioned.

“I like to put Bella to bed before going out,” You informed her. “My mother will be watching her, so I’d say around nine. Does that work for you?”

“That works for me,” Natasha agreed.

“Okay then, Natasha,” You smiled, wondering if she could hear it in your voice. “I’ll see you then.”

“Great, see you then.” Natasha mirrored your excitement. You hung up the phone and tucked it into your back pocket. You walked back over to Monica, trying to hide your excitement, but she noticed immediately.

She gave you a silent questioning look and you give her a thumbs up in return. This should be fun.

***********************

Back inside the recording studio, the band was wrapping up what turned out to be a successful recording session. They’d written one song so far and revised a few Natasha had in her back pocket for times like this. Which was the most progress they’d gotten in a year. Either way, it was a session that left them fulfilled. Natasha stood in front of the microphone, her voice still echoing in the room. She exchanged satisfied smiles with her bandmates before returning her wired headphones to their stand.

As they wrapped up their belongings Steve spoke up, "Alright, Natasha, we nailed it today. What's the plan for tonight?"

Natasha leaned back against the soundboard, a wry smile playing on her lips. "Oh, you know me, Steve. I'm a creature of habit."

Steve chuckled, "Yeah, we all are, aren't we? It's one big codependent family."

Natasha nodded, her red hair cascading around her shoulders. "True, but you guys like it that way."

Steve smirked, "And you do too."

Natasha sighed playfully, "Alright, you caught me. I have a thing."

The moment she mentioned 'a thing,' the rest of the group became intrigued. Tony, Bucky, and Wanda started bombarding her with questions, eager to know more. They were known for their tight-knit bond, often spending their evenings together.

Tony asked, grinning, "What kind of thing? Spill the beans, Red!"

Natasha tried to deny it, but under the pressure of their excited curiosity, she finally admitted, "Okay, okay! I'm going to Heatwave, a club downtown. I'm meeting up with a new friend."

Immediately, it was settled - if Natasha was going out, they were all going out. Tony's eyes gleamed with mischief, "Sounds like a party! Can we come too?"

Natasha hesitated for a moment, thinking about the guys' tendency to get a little rowdy. Then she relented, "Alright, fine. We can all go."

Steve high-fived Tony, and Bucky and Wanda exchanged excited glances. "This is gonna be awesome!" Steve exclaimed. Though he wasn’t much of a partier he loved exploring new places.

Natasha couldn't help but grin at their enthusiasm, "Yeah, let's hope it's good, then."

With the decision made, the band members packed up their instruments, ready for another night on the town.

*****************

As you stood before the bathroom mirror in your finest party outfit, face and hair all done up, the room around you painted a stark contrast. The soft notes of Beyonce’s “Yes�� played in the background as you prepared for your night out. The bathroom was a chaotic scene, messy and disheveled, with makeup and hair curlers scattered haphazardly. Clothes lay strewn on the floor and over the edge of the bathtub. The countertop was cluttered with various cosmetic products, their caps discarded carelessly.

A hairbrush, half-buried under a pile of clothes, seemed to have given up on its role in maintaining order. The floor bore the evidence of spilled powders and makeup brushes discarded in haste.

Isabella, standing in the doorway, disapproved of this sight. Her usually tidy nature couldn't help but frown at the disarray. With her wide, disapproving eyes, she silently conveyed her thoughts to you. “Why must it be so messy in here?”

“Must? I knew I was creating a bougie child,” You laughed to yourself, applying the final remnants of your makeup.

“I’m not bougie. I just go to a good school,” Isabella quipped. She stood with her arms folded her expression showing her unhappiness with the looks of your room.

"I know I pay the high tuition bill remember?" You mutter. Sierra Canyon was a school worth every bit of the $35,000 tuition. Even if it did hurt you to sign that check every year. “Well, I’ll pay you twenty dollars to clean it up,” You offer.

“Forty and we have a deal,” She counters.

“Forty?” You asked incredulously.

“Inflation, Mama,” Isabella explains as if it’s obvious. “My favorite toys aren’t cheap anymore.”

“I see,” You mumble. “You drive a hard bargain, but you have a deal.” You turn back to the mirror.

You did a spin to get Isabella’s final say. You wore a black backless draped split dress that reached mid-thigh, perfectly complemented by your sleek, hair slicked into a bun with two small bangs framing your face. The finishing touches of makeup were precise, accentuating your features with a subtle, smoky eye and a deep red lip.

“You look really good,” Isabella nodded.

“Not too trampy?” You asked and she shook her head.

“Not,” Isabella said.

“You know that was kind of a test and you failed?” You sighed. “Your dad lets you watch reality TV at his place again?”

“Maybe,” Isabella pretended to zip her lips and throw away the key. She was not one to tell.

You couldn't help but smile. You bent down to Isabella's level and planted a series of gentle kisses all over her cheeks, as she mostly wiped them off with a giggle.

“Oh, Isabella Marie, my little artist," You chuckled, feigning scandalization. "You've ruined my masterpiece!"

Isabella just laughed, her eyes sparkling with admiration for you. She reached up to touch the necklace you were wearing, a subtle gesture of appreciation.

You took Isabella's hand and said, "Come on, it's time for bed."

“I really should try to convince you to let me stay up later,” Isabella commented as she allowed you to drag her out to the living room.

You made your way to her bedroom, where you tucked her in with great care.

“Did you brush your teeth?” You asked as you rearranged her pillows.

“Yep,” Isabella nodded. “And I washed my face.”

“Good girl,” You praised her.

As you smoothed the covers over Isabella and adjusted her stuffed animals, Isabella reminded you with a bright smile, "Mama, remember, I have Lenny’s skating birthday party tomorrow. You said we'd go together."

You leaned in and kissed Isabella's forehead, making sure to wipe her face free of your makeup, as your heart warmed by your daughter's excitement. "Of course. We’ll be there. Now sleep, I love you.”

“Read me a story?” She begged in anticipation of your answer.

“One story,” You warned her before walking over to her bookshelf. You grabbed Hair Love by Matthew Cherry, one of her favorites these days. You sat beside her, offering her your best voice as you began to read to her. Isabella leaned into your body. When you were done, her eyes drooped with drowsiness as she whispered a contented, "Goodnight, Mama.”

“Goodnight, my precious girl. Sweet dreams." You turned off the bedside lamp, leaving the room in a warm, cozy darkness. With one final kiss, you left Isabella to her dreams.

With your preparations complete, you rushed out of Isabella’s bedroom and headed for the kitchen. Time was of the essence. In your hurry, you grabbed your purse and a bottle of water from the fridge. With a sigh of relief, you twisted open the cap and took a long, refreshing sip.

As you did, your mother entered the kitchen, her gaze appraising your outfit with a discerning eye.

"You're going out looking like that?" Her mother's tone was a mix of concern and disapproval.

“What don’t you like my outfit?” You turned to face her with a determined look. Your mother sighed but said nothing. "Yes, Mom. I've already put Isabella to bed, and I'll be back by two at the latest."

Your mother's expression softened, but she couldn't hide her worry. "Y/n, you know I worry when you go out so late."

You smiled reassuringly. "I know, Mom, but I never go out anymore. It’s all mom's life and work. I just want to have some fun with friends tonight. I promise to be careful."

“That only makes me feel slightly better,” She shook her head.

"I'll leave my phone on in case of an emergency, okay?" You promised her.

Your mother nodded; her eyes filled with maternal concern. "Alright, but you better answer if I call."

You laughed softly and hugged your mother. "I promise. You can count on me."

With a final smile and a quick kiss on her cheek, you left the kitchen, hoping to catch your Uber before it was too late.

************

As Natasha and the rest of Velvet Rebellion arrived at Heatwave, the vibrant thump of bass and the lively chatter of the crowd spilled into the street. The atmosphere was electric, and it was clear that the club lived up to its reputation. There was a line wrapped around the entrance, everyone attempting to get to the same point.

Natasha was sure they would be able to get in unscathed. However, as they approached the entrance, it became evident that someone had tipped off the paparazzi about their plans. As soon as they exited the car, flashbulbs began to pop, and reporters shouted questions. Natasha and Wanda, not yet accustomed to such situations, swiftly made their way inside, their confidence unshaken.

The boys followed closely behind, with security personnel discreetly positioned around them. However, the security was mostly unnecessary. Velvet Rebellion wasn't a superstar band, and they had no intention of acting like one. They were here to enjoy the music and the vibes, just like any other patrons.

Once inside, the pulsating rhythm of the club enveloped them. Heatwave was a mix of hip-hop, reggae, rock, and everything in between. The diverse crowd danced and mingled, creating an intoxicating blend of cultures and energies. The dimly lit club was a sanctuary for adults, a place where the music was loud, and the energy was contagious.

Natasha and her bandmates moved deeper into the club, losing themselves in the music and the seamless fusion of genres. The vibes were indeed immaculate, and they were ready to savor every moment of the night, leaving their fame behind for a while and simply being themselves - music lovers enjoying a night out.

Wanda, swept up in the excitement of the club's atmosphere, leaned in closer to Natasha and shouted over the thumping bass, "Hey, Nat I'll find us a booth! Tony's going to grab drinks for everyone!"

Natasha nodded and gave her a thumbs-up before deciding to excuse herself to the bathroom. The path to the restroom was a maze of dancing bodies and neon lights. A few girls recognized her and attempted to approach her for autographs or selfies, but Natasha simply smiled and waved, preferring to do things in peace. She could feel the presence of her security guard, Mike, behind her as she stepped into the bathroom. He waited outside of course.

After freshening up in the bathroom, Natasha emerged and found herself back in the crowded club. As she navigated the sea of people, she accidentally bumped into someone. Before she could react, her security personnel stepped forward, ready to intervene. However, Natasha recognized the person she had bumped into and quickly raised a hand to stop her security detail.

“Mike, it’s okay,” Natasha nodded to him.

It was you. A hint of amusement danced in your eyes as you noted the security presence. You couldn't help but think of the time when you, too, needed security. Back when your father was at the height of his career. Now not so much.

Despite the loud music, you managed to engage in a conversation, leaning close to hear each other over the thumping bass.

Natasha, with a playful smile, observed you, her eyes raking over your bad in a way that sent chills up your spine. "You look stunning tonight. That dress suits you."

"Why, thank you, Natasha. You look great too.” You lightly touched her arm. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Me too.” Natasha shouted over the music. "Life's been busy."

You nodded in understanding, "Tell me about it. It's been a whirlwind."

Natasha's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "What's new with you? How have you been?"

You leaned in closer, your lips almost brushing against Natasha's ear as you shouted above the music. "Lots of work, but tonight, I'm here to let loose. What about you? Any new songs in the works?"

Natasha nodded with a grin. "Always working on something.”

“That’s good then,” You smile back. You blink at her through your thick lashes before your eyes scan the room. “I see you brought your friends.”

“I have,” Natasha stepped a bit closer, though it was subtle, and you didn’t notice. You liked feeling the warmth radiating from her. “They wouldn’t let me come alone.”

“Gotta love them,” You joked. “Care to dance?” You ask.

“Lead the way,” Natasha takes your hand as you drag her onto the dance floor. She pretends she’s not checking out your ass but when you look back you nearly catch her. Funny.

Just as you and Natasha hit the dance floor, the DJ transitioned into a surprising mix of "What Is Love" by Haddaway and "In Da Club" by 50 Cent. The blend of the '90s dance classic and the early 2000s hip-hop anthem was unexpectedly catchy, and the crowd roared in approval.

Natasha was a fantastic dancer, her movements fluid and precise. You were equally impressive, managing to keep up with Natasha's rhythm effortlessly. Your bodies moved in perfect sync as you joined the sea of people on the dance floor.

The atmosphere was lively, energetic, and incredibly fun. Laughter and cheers filled the air as the club-goers embraced the unexpected combination of music with enthusiasm. The dance floor seemed to vibrate with the collective joy of everyone present.

You couldn't help but enjoy having Natasha so close. Her skin against your fingertips felt like heaven. The way her hands rested gently against your back. It was intimate, warm, and sensual despite the tempo of the music.

As the music continued to pulse through the club and once you were all danced out, bodies slick with sweat, you led Natasha to a booth where her bandmates were already seated. Their faces lit up with excitement as they spotted Natasha. It’s then you noticed Monica was already sitting amongst the rockstars somehow having made it past security.

“There you are,” Monica smiled sweetly. “You two were on fire out there. I was just making friends with our new family.” She said despite the quizzical looks. You reciprocated her hug as you whispered low into her ear.

“I hate you so much,” You growled.

“I love you too,” Monica laughed.

"Natasha, this is Monica," you said, introducing your best friend to the redhead.

Monica extended a friendly hand and smiled, though there was a hint of suspicion in her eyes. "Nice to meet you, Natasha."

Natasha returned the smile warmly, "Likewise, Monica."

As everyone settled into the booth, the conversation flowed effortlessly. Monica was cautious but kind, warming up to Natasha as they chatted about various topics. The club atmosphere had a way of breaking down barriers, and it wasn't long before they were all laughing and enjoying each other's company.

Somewhere along the way, the group decided to order a mix of different foods and drinks, sharing bites and sips as the night wore on. On the booth, Natasha sat next to you, the two of you sharing a closeness that was hard to ignore. During the lively conversations and the infectious rhythm of the music, Natasha couldn't shake the feeling that someone in the crowd had their phone out, possibly recording you. The thought bothered her, but you kept her engaged and distracted, your charm and energy captivating.

There was a break in the peace Natasha felt as her sharp eyes caught sight of her ex-girlfriend, Carol Danvers, making her way towards the booth. Natasha knew that this could potentially lead to a problem, so she decided to intercept Carol before things escalated.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Natasha sighed. She was not expecting this to happen tonight of all nights. You watch the two of them walk away before turning your attention back to the group. It was none of your business. "Carol, hi, let me talk to you.” Natasha wanted to take action before the mess. The last thing she needed was a problem when there was none.

She gently guided Carol to a more private corner where the music was lower, allowing them to have a conversation without distractions. As they stood facing each other, Natasha's demeanor was polite but distant. She wasn't fond of talking to Carol but wanted to ensure she was okay.

“I see you’re having fun,” Carol rubbed her sweaty hands against her jeans. Her eyes looked a little bloodshot, the deep bags being covered by concealer and heavy makeup. In all honesty, Natasha could tell Carol was not in her correct frame of mind. Whether that was due to lack of sleep or something else wasn’t her responsibility. Carol's voice quivered with emotion as she spoke, "You look good."

“Thank you,” Natasha sighed and shook her head, her expression a mix of sadness and resolution. "Carol, it's not worth it. We've been through this."

“I know,” Carol nodded. “I just wanted to say hello.”

Natasha found Carol’s meek demeanor unsettling. It was so unlike her. Again, not her problem.

“Look, it was good to see you,” Natasha peaked back at the booth to see you were laughing with Monica about something. “Take care of yourself.” Natasha rubs a hand over Carol’s arm before walking away. She was not in the mood to be dealing with this right now. When she sits down again, it takes a moment for her to reacclimate with the group, her feelings of dread and the aftermath of the breakup all taking over again.

You noticed the change in her demeanor and decided to check in on her.

With genuine concern in your eyes, you asked softly, "Natasha, is everything okay?"

Natasha tried to feign a smile, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... old memories, you know?"

You nodded, understanding that sometimes the past had a way of sneaking up on you. You decided to lift the mood by embracing the party spirit. As fans approached you for pictures, only allowed with the say-so of security, you graciously obliged, even though you weren’t used to so much attention. Having a famous family meant everyone assumed you were someone to know too. The smiles on their faces and their gratitude brought a spark of joy to the night.

However, Natasha's mood didn't seem to improve. You could see the lingering discomfort on her face and sensed that Natasha might need a change of scenery. You leaned in closer to Natasha and asked, "You sure you're okay, Natasha? If you want, we can get out of here."

Natasha appreciated your concern and gave you a small, genuine smile. "Isn’t this your friend’s party?”

“Alicia? She’ll understand,” You grinned. “I’m a mom.” You shrug.

“How many times have you used that excuse?” Natasha questioned.

“Once or twice,” You laughed.

“I think that might be a good idea then." Natasha leaned over to whisper to Wanda that she was leaving. Wanda narrowed her eyes between the two of you but ultimately said nothing.

“Monica, I’m leaving with Natasha,” You informed your best friend. “I love you.” “Love you too,” Monica smiled briefly. “Call me tomorrow and tell me everything.” She said a bit lower.

“I will,” You roll your eyes.

As you made your way towards the exit, Natasha felt grateful for your understanding and support. As you neared the club's exit, you leaned in closer to Natasha and suggested, "Let's use the back exit. It's a quicker way out, and we can avoid the paparazzi."

Natasha nodded in agreement, appreciating your thoughtfulness. She followed you towards the inconspicuous back exit, with Mike, Natasha's security guard, close behind. The corridor was dimly lit, and the sounds of the club faded away with each step.

Walking side by side, you and Natasha found a comfortable silence between you. Natasha appreciated the quiet respite after the club's raucousness.

Then, without hesitation, you reached out and gently took Natasha's hand. It was a bold move, and Natasha's heart skipped a beat. The connection felt warm and reassuring,

Natasha looked at you, her eyes softening with gratitude. Your fingers entwined, as you continued down the dimly lit sidewalk together, taking comfort in the simple act of holding hands, a gesture of comfort and support.

“Downtown Los Angeles is not exactly the safest place to hang out at night,” You point out.

“Did you have anywhere in mind?” Natasha questions. “I’m not really ready to go home yet.’

“How about here?” You point to the restaurant just across the street. It was settled.

You and Natasha walked into the small Japanese food restaurant and were greeted by a soothing ambiance of sleek and modern dining. The interior featured clean lines, polished wooden tables, and elegant, dimmed lighting that created a cozy yet sophisticated atmosphere. The walls were adorned with tasteful Japanese-inspired artwork, adding to the restaurant's aesthetic appeal.

Despite the late hour, they were still open, and there weren't many people left in the restaurant. The subdued chatter of a few diners in hushed conversations added to the tranquil atmosphere.

The restaurant staff welcomed you and Natasha with warm smiles, happy to accommodate your late-night visit. You were ushered to a well-appointed table with comfortable seating, creating a sense of intimacy in the otherwise empty space.

Once seated, you took the lead in order, your familiarity with the menu evident. You chose the baked crab hand rolls, a delectable choice known for its rich flavors and delicate textures, and edamame with a sprinkle of salt for a simple and satisfying appetizer.

Natasha decided to indulge in a sushi sampler, intrigued by the restaurant's offerings. She also ordered drinks for you to share, wanting to continue the evening in a relaxed and enjoyable manner, free from the distractions of the outside world.

As you waited for the food to arrive, you turned your attention to Natasha, your expression carrying a hint of concern.

"Natasha, "You began hesitantly, "Can you tell me more about Carol? Should I be worried about her showing up like that?"

Natasha sighed, recognizing the need for honesty. She leaned in, speaking softly, "Carol is my ex-girlfriend. We used to be really close, and she was a good person, but lately, she's been caught up in the wrong crowd. I've been trying to keep my distance from all of that."

Caught up in the wrong crowd could mean a host of things in the industry. Drugs were usually the most common. Though you didn't press for her to elaborate.

You listened attentively, her concern deepening. "Do you think she's going to be a problem?"

Natasha could see your question for what it was. Was she going to be a problem in whatever potential the two of you could have?

Natasha shook her head, her gaze reassuring. "No, nothing like that. She's just... lost, for now. I don't want you to worry about it. I'm doing my best to stay out of any trouble, especially now."

You nodded, appreciating Natasha's honesty and the effort she was making to ensure your time together was free from complications. You reached out and gently squeezed Natasha's hand, silently conveying your support.

You leaned in closer and admitted, "I understand, Natasha. My ex and I co-parent Isabella, and it wasn't always easy either. But we've found our way." You shrugged.

Natasha appreciated the understanding and felt a connection with you as you shared your experiences.

Then, the conversation took a different turn, and Natasha's curiosity got the better of her. She leaned in with a playful glint in her eyes and said, "Alright, enough about my drama. I want to know more about you. You downplayed your singing career at the party. Backup?”

“You’ve done your research,” You chuckled at the playful teasing but then became more serious as you responded, "You're right. Singing has always been my love, my passion. But the demanding career and the lack of privacy that comes with it gets to you after a while. That's why I love being a publicist. It allows me to stay in the industry that I adore but from a different angle, more behind the scenes. It gives me room to breathe and a sense of control over my life."

Natasha nodded in understanding, appreciating your candor. She could see the sincerity in your eyes as you spoke about your career and the choices you had made. It was clear that you had found a balance that worked for you, and Natasha respected you for it.

When the food arrived, you immediately dug into your meal. Your curiosity got the better of you, and you asked Natasha, "Do you and your band have a publicist or a manager?"

Natasha smirked playfully, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Is it that obvious? I guess it's the many times Tony's been arrested.” Natasha began to list. “Or the time I punched paparazzi for trying to take a picture at an awkward angle.” She grimaced.

You couldn't help but laugh at Natasha's observation. "Well, those incidents might have given it away a bit."

Natasha's smile faded slightly as she confessed, "Honestly, I know we need someone to manage us, but I've never felt entirely comfortable with the idea. It's like giving up a piece of our freedom and creativity. We've managed so far, but I know it can't go on like this forever."

You nodded in understanding, recognizing the challenges that came with managing a successful music career independently. You asked, "Do you have anyone in mind for the role, someone you might trust enough to bring into the fold?"

Natasha thought for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. "Possibly. It's a big decision, and I want to make sure it's the right fit for us, you know? We've been doing this our way for so long that it's hard to let go."

“Well, when you’re ready, I’m your gal,” You offered your services. “I also may have a few wild cards that would work perfectly.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Natasha sips from her cup.

As the night drew to a close, you found yourselves waiting on a quiet street corner for your Uber to arrive. The bustling energy of the club was a distant memory, replaced by the calm of the late-night city.

Natasha looked at you with a genuine smile and said, "I had a lot of fun tonight, y/n. Thank you."

You returned the smile, your heart warmed by Natasha's words. "I did too, Natasha. It was great getting to know you."

The streets were mostly empty, and the city was bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. There was a moment of silence as you stood together, the unspoken tension of the night hanging in the air.

Then, as if guided by an invisible force, Natasha leaned in and softly pressed her lips against yours. It was a gentle, lingering kiss that sent shivers down your spine. Your cheeks flushed, but you couldn't help but smile.

Breaking the kiss, you teased, "Well, that's a surprise ending for the night."

Natasha chuckled and replied, "I couldn't resist."

“Don’t worry, I liked it,” You grinned. You leaned forward, kissing Natasha again, lingering when your lips pressed before you pulled back.

The distant sound of the approaching Uber pulled you back to reality. Your ride had arrived. You exchanged one last lingering look, a silent acknowledgment of the connection you had shared that evening.

With a soft goodbye, you climbed into the waiting car, and Natasha watched as it drove away into the night. As she walked away, Natasha couldn't help but smile, feeling grateful for the unexpected and unforgettable night she had just experienced.

---> next part

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanov #black widow x female reader #natasha x you #rockstar nat

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yoonia · 1 month ago

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— Dia’s tumblr wrapped 2024

I know it’s super late for me to share this, but just as many would say, it’s better late than never. Thank you so much for the lovely people who tagged me to do this: @beomcoups, @shadowkoo, @kingofbodyrolls ♡

2024 started off smoothly…until it didn’t. The final quarter of the year has always been a hard time for me and it wasn’t that much different this year. As you can probably notice that I’ve been mostly absent ever since the end of October and I deeply apologise for that. I also regret not planning things properly and for not keeping up with my goals this year but that only means that I'll be dragging my WIP list towards the next year.

Thank you so much for everyone who has been there for me this year, and those of you who have stuck by me despite my inconsistencies. I really appreciate your presence on my blog, whether it’s through your likes and kudos, your reblogs, your comments and replies on my contents, and the kind words you sent me through my ask box. You guys have made it worthwhile for me to be here even after all these years, and I don’t think I can thank you enough for that. Here’s to mark the end of our wild journey through 2024 and enter the new year of 2025.

OVERALL FIC STATS 2024

Number of fics posted: 4 (four) one-shots, 2 (two) ongoing series, 3 (three) ficlets

Number of fics revamped: 2 (two) completed fics, 2 (two) ongoing series

Number of words written: 448,057 words (dang, no wonder I felt so burned out lol)

Number of fics in progress: 32 (oh, boy…)

FIRST FIC OF 2024

❥ A Christmas Fix 01 & 02 — posted Jan 31st & Feb 1st | 1,926 & 1,226 notes

My thoughts: This was…quite a journey. It’s been a while since I wrote a rom-com story and I was pleased to have been given the chance to write this idea through a collab. The final outcome wasn’t too disappointing either, since I enjoyed writing it and reading it afterwards. I’m glad everyone loved this story as well.

MOST POPULAR FIC OF 2024

❥ The Stand-In (Revamped version) — posted Aug 13th | 4,267 notes

My thoughts: Okay, yeah…I cheated a little. But to be fair, this fic did get a lot of notes this year before and after the revamping process. I loved this story so much that I felt like it deserved a major makeover and I’m glad I managed to do it this year.

LONGEST FIC OF 2024

❥ The Bedroom Hymns — series, ongoing, last updated Sept 9th | 50k++ words | I’m too lazy to open each chapter to count the notes I’m so sorry lol

My thoughts: I know…I know, I need to update this one again. I had to take a break from this series because this fic literally became my main focus this year that a lot of my WIPs kept getting pushed back just so I could finish more of this. I had to stop at some point to finally set free my WIPs. I have to admit that I also lost my motivation to write this due to the lack of notes and responses that I got with each update no matter how much time I spent working on it (tacky, I know…but it is what it is). I still love and enjoy writing this, so more chapters are coming. I can see this fic becoming my main focus again in 2025 until I’m done with it.

LAST FIC OF 2024

❥ The Forsaken II: Tears of the Sea — posted Oct 24th | 712 notes

My thoughts: Holy hell…this fic. Who would’ve thought that I’d be revisiting siren!Taehyung this year after…3 years?? Thank you, whoever it was that sent this during my birthday event. I never expected to write a full fic for this to continue the original story and to answer a lot of your questions, but I’m glad I did!

Honorable mention:

❥ Our Imperfections — posted Oct 30th | 92 notes

My thoughts: This was the last thing I actually released before I dipped into the void but I couldn’t count this as a fic as this was considered a ficlet or, in a more common term, a drabble.

PERSONAL FAVOURITE FIC OF 2024

❥ Blooming Wallflowers — posted Sept 25th | 927 notes

My thoughts: I had one of those rare moments where I found myself enjoying the writing process of a story so much that things simply kept flowing until it became a full story. This one went twice the size planned (and commissioned) but I have no regrets. At all.

Honorable mention:

❥ Maps (revamped version) — series, completed, posted Sept 6th, 7th, & 11th | 1,4k++ notes (again, I’m too lazy to open each chapter lol)

My thoughts: I initially planned to release something else for DPR Ian’s birthday this year. But then I started revamping the graphics for his old fics instead and decided to revamp the whole series while I had the chance. This one has always been my fave work that I wrote for Christian, so diving back into this to do a makeover and give it a major upgrade felt absolutely fulfilling.

2024 SPECIAL EVENT

❥ 𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖋𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖆𝖉𝖊: yoonia’s 2024 birthday bash

My thoughts: Once again, I can’t thank you guys enough for joining this small event of mine. I promise that I’ll have another event in 2025 so please stay tuned! (see you in March!)

Fave reads of 2024

I have to admit that I haven’t been doing a lot of fic reading this year. But I’m happy that I got to dive back into reading some fanfics during my birthday event and found some lovely gems that I truly enjoyed

The Taste of Sin by @shadowkoo

Vignette: Duty by @cybrsan

The Athlete by @beomcoups

A Lover's Redemption by @writtenwhalien

Dandelion by @shina913

The Wood by @sailoryooons

Minted by @kithtaehyung

Mr. & Mrs. Yoon by @monamipencil

On The Ropes by @raplinesmoon

Top Ten Tracks of 2024

Loved — B.I

People — Agust D

Make You Mine — Black Violet

Gemini — Cheyenne

Close To Me — Mamie, Eloy, Trippy Bass

HUH?! — Agust D feat. J-hope

Love — Lana Del Rey

Reasons — COTIS

Watch Me Burn — Michelle Morrone

Die First — Nessa Barrett

GOALS FOR 2025

Write more. Tackle more WIPs each month.

Finally finish my old abandoned WIPs (About Time, Blood Moon Rising and the Shifters Series, Chance Encounter)

Finish writing and officially release my original stories/novel as a web-series

Try to do better with planning and scheduling and keeping up with them

Finish revamping Carousel and release the novel version on Ream

Read more. Both published books and released fics

Focus more on my personal health, mental and physical

Start job hunting again

I know I’m late for this, so I’m passing this over to the writers who are tagged on the list above (if you haven’t done this yet) and also tagging a few who come across my mind right now (only if you want to!): @ressjeon @lo1k-diamonds @pars-ley @minisugakoobies @inkedtae

And also tagging randomly anyone who feels inspired to create their own tumblr wrapped!

#2024 tumblr wrapped #fic wrapped #tagged #misc: fic talk

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envysarchive · 5 months ago

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like your steelo

pairing: billy butcher x fem!reader, frenchie x fem!reader

word count: 1.9k

summary: you’ve been seeing both men regularly at the club, and they were seeing you too. it was long overdue you did something about it. title from steelo by 702

warnings: smut +18 MDNI, mentions of drinking, sex without protection (this is fiction, please cover the friendly stick!) oral sex (f + r receiving), penetration (r receiving), praise, a bit of degradation if you squint, not proofread.

a/n: alr so first thing i post since i deleted everything i’m sorry i was just wayy too busy to write. also please help how the fuck do i conclude a smut piece????

masterlist. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁inbox

Billy took a drag on the cigar he was holding between his fingers, and then released all the smoke he had obtained.

Both him and Fenchie were watching you dance from the other side of the bar. They had talked to you a few times, and the flirtatious looks you gave them both was the torture they received in exchange. They knew your name and age, but other than that, the only thing they received were glances and small, discreet, slightly suggestive touches.

"So, who is going to take the first step? " Frenchie questioned, in a low tone so that only Butcher could hear him.

"You" he responded, without even thinking about it. Frenchie quickly denied.

"Haven't flirted with a lady in years. It should be you. You have more experience."

"If I do it, I ain’t gonna include you in my proposal" Butcher shrugged his shoulders. He couldn't stop watching you, from top to bottom, dancing with your friends while passing a shot of tequila like water.

Billy took another drag from his cigar, and was distracted as he played with the lighter. Suddenly, a soft hand rested on his shoulder, and then on Frenchie's too. You made your way between them to call the woman on the other side of the bar and order another round for your group of friends. When you finally finished ordering, you looked at the two men there, who were staring at you without any discretion.

"How is your night going? " you questioned, disguising the flirtation with kindness.

"Not as good as yours" Billy responded, turning his eyes away from yours. The closeness with those two men made you give in more and more to the lustful thoughts you'd been having lately.

"I think I can do a little something to improve your night" An expression full of interest appeared on both of their faces, and that satisfied your wishes. You leaned closer to Billy's ear, "Room 236. In 10 minutes. Bring the french guy too." You finished speaking, and after giving Frenchie a small glance, you retreated to go up to the room you had reserved exclusively for tonight.

You waited only two minutes, and then, several knocks on the door made you feel more nervous than you already were. You took a deep breath, and opened the door to meet the two men you had been almost fantasizing about.

They both entered after you let them do so. The door was padlocked, and two pairs of eyes were completely scanning your body.

"So if I understood correctly, I imagine ye want a threesum with us luv, ain't that right?" Butcher asked, gifting you a grin in the process.

"Yeah, I suppose you are," you declared.

Taking slow steps, Billy started to approach you, placing his hand on your cheek. Your eyes were staring at him as Frenchie watched expectantly.

Butcher ran one of his thumbs over your lips, stroking gently. His gaze was filled with need. "May I?" he asked. You broke the space between both of you, and launched yourself at his lips.

Billy's hands rested on your hips as you stretched one of your hands to reach Frenchie's face. A devious smile appeared on his face when you separated from Butcher, looking at him carefully, as if reviewing each and every one of his features.

You grabbed Frenchie by the chin, and brought him closer ultimately smashing your lips together in a wild kiss. Frenchie's hands were on your face, while Billy's were on your hips. You didn't waste any time at all as you let yourself be wrapped in Frenchie's soft lips.

Butcher began to surround you, little by little, until he ended up behind you, covering your neck with small wet kisses, while your lips were being devoured by Frenchie. Billy's hands ran down your back, and ended at the beginning of the zipper of that pretty black dress you were wearing. Slowly, he started to take it off, and in sync, your hands rested on the edge of Frenchie's shirt, taking it off in a skillful movement.

Billy ran his fingers along your arms, bringing with him the straps of your dress, leaving it on the floor. You were left only in a beautiful set of lingerie, which fit your body perfectly.

"You like what you see?" you questioned as you smirked, seeing both of their faces almost drooling over you.

"You know we do, ma belle" Frenchie said.

Things began to move faster from there, and soon, Frenchie didn't have a single item of clothing on, and you finished getting rid of the last item of clothing that Billy was wearing. You grabbed Butcher by the waist and walked him to the edge of the bed to gently push him to sit there.

"Rough, aren't ya darlin’?" Billy smirked as Frenchie approached you from behind and began kissing your neck.

His hands slid to your breasts as he began to gently massage them. You couldn't help but moan with pleasure, throwing your head back. Your kisses went to Frenchie's lips, while Butcher’s hands continued to roam through your body, pulling you closer to him. One of your hands went down Frenchie's abdomen until you reached his cock, which was already hard and eager to be touched. A moan slipped from the frenchman’s lips as you gently touched the tip.

"I have an idea," you whispered, separating yourself from Frenchie, him following your lips as you chuckle.

With a sign, you motioned for him to lie down in the center of the bed, and when he was finally there, you scooted over him to settle between his legs.

Butcher knew where this was going, and he stood behind you, gently taking you by the waist.

Kneeling on the bed, with Billy behind you kissing your body non-stop,you moved one of your hands to Butcher’s cock, and began to caress it gently.

“Fuck doll, you know what I want you to do wi’ this, right? Such a slut f’me, been teasin’ me for so so long, haven’t ya darling”

You responded with an inevitable moan that slipped from your lips.

“Whatcha want?”

“I need you inside of me”

He grabbed you by your hair and pulled you closer to his cock. Your tongue ran over it, and you felt pride rushing through you as a grunt full of pleasure came from his mouth.

His strong, large hand reached one of your cheeks, separating you from his cock, making you look at him for a moment as he caressed your skin.

“Despite how much I’m enjoying the show m’lady, I would very much like to be included.” Frenchie said, getting closer to you.

You took one look at him, and, with temptation coursing through your veins, you turned around and started to stroke Frenchie’s dick.

Billy, seeing you from behind, grabbed you by your waist, and positioned you towards him so he had a perfect angle to your ass.

He brazed one of his fingers over your clit, feeling how wet you were.

“Aye darlin’ if I knew how excited you were I would’ve done somethin’ faster.”

Butcher took his own dick in his hands, and guided it towards your pussy. His tip barely touched you and you already felt yourself dissolving in pleasure.

Gently, Billy slid into you, and a moan coming from both filled the room.

"Music to my fuckin’ ears," he murmured, satisfied.

Your mouth took care of Frenchie’s dick, bobbing your head up as you stared right into his eyes and he held you by your hair, not exactly pulling, but he was applying a certain pressure.

“Merde, this girl is really something Butcher.”

Billy increased the speed of his thrusts, filling you with increasingly exquisite pleasure. The speed with which he moved was supernatural, and caused vibrations within you that you had never felt before.

Again and again, moans slipped from the lips of all three.

"Ah… You're magnificent," Butcher groaned, feeling every part of his body begin to tense as he dug his nails into your ass.

At that point, you were melting into so much pleasure you couldn’t understand how you had been waiting so long to finally make an actual move.

You felt the electricity of an orgasm fill you as Billy went faster and faster, not stopping despite the fact you’d already cum. A loud moan left your mouth, which made Frenchie groan in response, feeling him pulsing inside your mouth.

Breathing heavily, you tried to recover as you started to massage Frenchie’s balls on your hands.

“Billy” you whimpered, pulling your mouth from Frenchie’s dick and working with your hands instead as you felt yourself reach a second orgasm.

Frenchie squeezed his eyes shut as he felt his cock tighten more and more.

“Ah, m’belle. Keep it up," he asked, full-on moaning as he reached his orgasm.

Butcher continued his thrusts until he accompanied you both through your orgasms.

Several broken moans reached your ears, satisfied with hearing them both curse amidst so much pleasure.

You let out a small sigh, and began to feel how Billy wrapped you in his arms, pressing his chest to your back.

"Doll, your cunt’s a fuckin’ masterpiece," he murmured into your ear, you were able to feel him smiling against your lobe.

You chuckled and nodded, without verbally responding as he began kissing your neck.

Frenchie got up from the bed, and rose to capture your lips in a kiss so desperate and filled with need you wondered if your lips would ever recover.

"I want to taste you," he murmured against your lips, eyes dark and filled with lust. "Let me taste you."

You nodded softly.

They both made way for you to lie down on the bed, and soon, Frenchie placed his face between your legs.

Butcher knelt beside you, and without a second thought, he pulled your face in for a kiss.

As your tongues wrapped around each other, a moan escaped into the kiss as you felt one of Frenchie’s cold fingers trace your entrance.

Butcher smiled to himself when he heard you, licking your bottom lip.

Frenchie’s tongue ran over every part of your cunt in a smooth, slow motion, and it made you moan once more.

Billy ran one of his hands over your abdomen, and then slowly went up to grope your breasts. He continued kissing you frantically, but you couldn't keep up. The pleasure making you gasp and moan between kisses.

One of your hands ran down Billy’s chest, and went down to his cock, where you gave a small squeeze that made him grin into the kiss.

You began to move your hand up and down Butcher's cock, while Frenchie added fingers inside your pussy.

The minute he started rubbing your clit in circles was the minute you started to feel yet another orgasm building up.

You started to stroke Billy’s dick faster, trying to finish him off at the same time as you finished.

Billy’s hand squeezed your left tit as he moved his mouth to suck the other.

The overstimulation was too much. You came with a scream as Butcher grinned and pulled on your nipple.

“That pussy-” Frenchie smacked his tongue against his paladar. “Fucking magnifique.”

Butcher laid down beside you staring at your blown out eyes.

“Look at ‘er French, so beautiful, all dizzy from us.” He caressed your cheek gently with his thumb. “Not a thought in yer brain, right darlin’?”

#billy butcher #karl urban #frenchie #frenchie the boys #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher smut #frenchie smut #frenchie x reader #the boys smut #the boys

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omgeto · 1 year ago

Note

could you do reader giving gojo head for the first time please?? LOVE YOUR WORK!!

gojo gets his first blowjob from his pretty little best friend so mdni

“are you sure about this?” you ask with a sly grin — gojo was nervous. you could tell by the way he toyed with the sheets, staring at everything but you. it was odd seeing your best friend, who was usually so confident, being unsure about something.

“yeah i want to do this, definitely.” he nods eagerly in response, “just don’t wanna mess this up,” he finishes with a mumble.

“c’mon toru, no need to be shy with me,” your grin widens as you watch his sudden shift from bravado to bashfulness. it was a side of him you rarely got to see — and you were gonna take full advantage of it. “i’ll take care of you.”

his dick hardens just at the sight of you, your face inching closer to his, your lips part as your hand snakes around his neck in a firm hold as your mouth envelopes him. he quickly eases into the kiss, his tongue pushing into yours greedily. his hands feverishly roam your body touching as you climb into his lap.

you eventually pull away from the kiss, but his mouth still chases yours, hungry for more. you give him a final peck before pushing him down on the bed. you play with the hem of his boxers and he looks up at you expectedly, a faint whisper leaving his mouth “please.”

you free his dick from his hands, stroking at it slowly, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you watch his lips part at the cold contact of your fingers wrapping around the tip of his dick. swiping off the precum with your thumb, popping it in your mouth to taste him.

“fuck” he mutters, staring up at you. he couldn’t contain himself, you’d barely done anything and he was already feeling like he was going to cum everywhere.

you lower your head, about to take in his dick in your warm mouth before he stops you, placing his hand on your shoulder. “you really don’t have to.”

“it’s fine toru,” you chuckle, amused by his chivalry, but you could tell by the way his breathing slowed, eagerly anticipating you to give him head.

“okay then, but only if you want to,” he bargains, “i don’t want it to be all about me.”

“it is all about you,” before he could respond, you shove his dick in your mouth contentedly humming at the whimper that comes out of his mouth. he couldn’t keep still, the feeling of your sloppy wet mouth repeatedly sucking on his piece, made him lose his mind.

“ah s-shit,” he moans out, as your lips slobber over his dick, your hands twisting on the part your mouth couldn’t take. your hands fondle his balls, massaging them as your mouth continues to work on his dick. “fuck, t-this is so good. is it always this good?” you chuckle at his excitement, quickening your pace as you feel from the way his hips were slightly thrusting towards your face that he was about to cum.

“i think i’m gonna—” he whines out, and just seeing your eyes match his, with you coyly looking up at him. his sentence cuts short as he releases into your mouth. your smile widens as you swallow all of him, pressing a kiss to his tip as your mouth comes off his dick.

“was that okay? i didn’t cum to quickly right?” he immediately starts to ramble as you sit up, “speaking of cum, was it too salty? i’ve read that some gu–” you interrupt him, putting your lips back onto his, making him taste himself off of you. “shit that was hot.”

“see, not that bad,” you jest, admiring the blissed out look on his face — you really rocked his words and you were just warming up.

you could feel his dick start to harden again underneath you, and you laugh as he says, “could we maybe try that again sometime?”

an: slay. lmk your thoughts, surprise surprise im writing for gojo again despite saying that I dont like him hmmm wild.

#stampedwithanE★#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader

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oneheda · 2 months ago

Text

MET THE BULLET. | 𖥂 lo’ak sully

── .✦ part 2 of: PREMONITIONS

w.c: 6.8k

pairing: lo’ak x fem!na’vi reader (aged up characters for plot purposes!)

story description (read pt. 1 before this first!): but then, the ambush happened. and when lo’ak had nearly lost you, with past wounds colliding, you both had to face confrontation of the raw and painful truth of your guys’ estrangement.

contains: angst, slowburn, childhood friends to enemies to lovers, fluff (for real this time! <3)

warning: swearing, near-death experience, descriptions of war. please do not read if you find these triggering!

➙ PART 1:

a/n: hi guys! i’ve officially finished writing this at 3am. hope it’s not too bad even if i wrote it with my screen LOWKEY warping at times LMFKDNJSNAO. it got to a point where i was proof-reading and deleted whole written scenes, made several drafts, then lost track of where the story was going. so, i decided to end up sticking to the first final version i wrote and prepared in tumblr @ 3am. i’m sorry if there’s any inconsistencies (i don’t think there should be, not on this tumblr post). i hope y’all’s enjoy and stay tuned for more avatar fics! <33

You never thought you’d be here, rising before the first light of dawn with a bow clenched tightly in your hand, trying desperately to find a stillness that refused to come. The air was cool, heavy with the scent of damp earth and lingering ash, and your grip tightened against the wood as if the bow itself could anchor you.

Each morning, you repeated the same ritual: stalking the wilds, ears tuned to the sharp, satisfying sound of stone slicing through flesh. It was routine now, the kind of focused repetition that drowned out the noise in your mind, the questions you refused to let yourself answer.

You never thought you’d become this person—someone who sought refuge not in peace but in the violent act of hunting, in the rhythmic pull of a string and the release of an arrow. You never thought you’d run, not from a battle, but from silence itself. And yet here you were, moving through the brush, your steps faltering as you lost the rhythm that once came so easily.

You hated feeling so futile, useless to questions you knew you didn’t have any of the answers to. It was dumb to you, to still think any of this mattered after all these eclipses, that he mattered. He shouldn’t be. I mean, genuinely, was he even worth a thought anymore?

It used to feel a little good to hope for more despite the tragedy of your friendship, or lack thereof. That hope, fragile as it was, had carried you through the cracks of loss and resentment. But now, that hope felt like a liability, a dangerous thread pulling you toward something you had no business holding onto. Hope felt dangerous. He felt dangerous.

So now, you did everything you could to rid him of your line of sight, to distance yourself from the memories that clung to the edges of your mind like shadows. Nowadays, around the campfire, laughter echoed, and new friendships began to take root—bonds forged in the shared heat of training and the quiet moments of reprieve. But never with him. You avoided his gaze, even more, his voice, his presence. You couldn’t even bury the ache beneath layers of forced smiles and polite conversation anymore, you had to push him out of your life completely.

Like he never existed.

Still, despite your best efforts to focus on the good in front of you, a quiet, stubborn thought gnawed at the back of your mind. It whispered that no matter how many stories you shared with these new faces, none of them truly knew you as Lo’ak did. He had seen parts of you that even you struggled to face, understood pieces of your soul you hadn’t yet put into words.

And it sucked. It sucked to feel like you were missing something, even as you sat surrounded by laughter and warmth. It wasn’t fair to the people who had shown you kindness, to the bonds you were trying so hard to nurture, who would never leave you in the dark as he did, but the feeling persisted—a dull ache that reminded you of everything you were trying to leave behind and everything you were still losing in the process.

Stop thinking so much, you reminded yourself, taking in a deep breath. I’m okay, you steadied, regaining a balance that never felt the same as it used to. Refocusing sharply on your target, you didn’t hesitate. The string of your bow snapped, releasing the arrow with precision and purpose. Its flight was swift, and with a clean, sharp strike, it met its mark. The sturmbeast staggered, its powerful frame trembling as it succumbed.

You moved without pause, leaping gracefully toward the fallen creature. Kneeling by its side, you placed a steady hand on its heaving form, murmuring a quiet prayer of gratitude to Eywa for the life it had given, the warmth of its life still lingering beneath your touch. Then, bowing your head, with a swift, deliberate motion, you ended its suffering, granting it a merciful release and ensuring its spirit returned to the Great Mother in peace. Its body soon turned colder than your hand.

“What are you doing here?”

You masked your surprise when the familiar voice reached your flickered ears—it was Neteyam. Of course, he’d found you here. He’d been assigned to spot near-by human ambush regions, a task that had him covering far more forest ground than his brother. His patrol extended beyond just the Hallelujah Mountains because the Sky People had returned 2 weeks ago.

Or so you heard.

“Just hunting,” you started, but as you turned around, your words faltered. “Lo’ak?”

Your eyes locked on the figure standing before you, and for a moment, everything inside you froze. A whirlwind of emotions rushed through you as you struggled to process the sight before you.

“Not the brother you were expecting?” The boy’s voice was light, and playful, as a small grin tugged at the corner of his lips. His hands rested confidently on his hips as he let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “Yeah, yeah, didn’t expect it either. You don’t have to act all shocked, y’know. I know how laid-back you are, [Y/n].”

Hearing your name slip from his lips sent a jolt through you, like an electric shock that you weren’t prepared for. It had been so long since you’d heard him say it like that, in his voice, the way it felt almost familiar—yet, unsettling.

But, the memories, the betrayal, the hurt, the lies—every single ounce of it flood back all at once. A sharp wave of anger surged through you as you stood up quickly, grabbing your bow with a little more force than necessary, the edges of your vision burning with the heat of your frustration. “What are you doing here?” you questioned, voice tight, a controlled fury simmering just beneath the surface.

“I asked you that question first.”Lo’ak took a step closer, his eyes scanning you like he was trying to figure you out—like he always did. His gaze flicked to the sturmbeast at your feet, and he let out a low whistle. “One arrow? That’s pretty impressive...,” he said, his voice low, almost with admiration. “No one but you at our age could do that, not yet.”

“I don’t need your validation,” you muttered, crouching down to start collecting your meal, ignoring the strange feeling in your stomach.

“Never said you did.” He shrugged, but there was a lilt in his voice. “[Y/n]. So, so independent. Even with, you know—” his eyes flicked pointedly to your thigh, where the faint scar of an old bullet wound lingered. “—that.”

“What do you want?” you asked, voice clipped as you turned back to him, trying to ignore the way your stomach twisted in all sorts of directions. “If you’re here to piss me off, after everything, just leave.”

Lo’ak’s expression hardened, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something. But then he sighed, running a hand through his braids.

You asked, baffled that he didn’t move even a single inch, “What are you even doing here? Isn’t Neteyam supposed to be covering this area?”

“He was. I switched with him. Figured I’d take the scenic route today. Lucky me, huh?” Though, Lo’ak had not even a modicum of amusement in his voice.

Keeping your gaze fixed on the carcass of the sturmbeast, you refused to look at him any longer. “I’ll manage,” you muttered, bending down to retrieve your bow, to which Lo’ak stopped you.

“Nuh-uh,” he said, drawing the word out like he didn’t believe you, his gaze falling to your leg. “Over rough terrain? With that leg?”

Your jaw tightened, the irritation crawling up your spine, making your tail flick erratically behind you. “I don’t need your help, Lo’ak.”

It would’ve been so easy to let it end there, to close off that door and turn away from him once again. To let him leave, just like before. But, of course, you didn’t. You had to say one more thing, almost as if this time you could willfully cause him to disappear. “Go back to pretending like I don’t exist. We were doing really well, ever since, weren’t we?”

Lo’ak’s ears twitched, he didn’t miss the way venom laced every syllable you spoke, mixed with the sharpness in your tone. “Right,” he said, his voice flat but edged with something darker. “Pretending you don’t exist, huh?”

You felt your pulse quicken, a tremor of anger running through you, your fingers tightened instinctively around the grip of your bow. You met his eyes with a seething intensity.

“Yeah, no. That was all you,” he shot back.

You wanted so bad to argue, to fight back at the audacity, but before you could protest, Lo’ak crouched down, tying the sturmbeest’s legs with practised ease. “Look, we can keep being pissed off all you want, but ever since I noticed your leg, you’re not carrying this thing back alone. I won’t let you.”

You picked up the weight of the sturmbeast as if to prove his point, your muscles tensing with the effort. “Fine, but this will be the last time we speak to each other, got it?”

A few days ago…

Lo’ak woke up to the soft, rhythmic sound of breathing beside him, the warmth of another body pressed lightly against his side. He blinked up at the thatched ceiling of the hut, his heart already sinking before his mind fully caught up. Turning his head ever so slightly, he found Sänika lying next to him, her arm draped lazily over his chest. Her face was peaceful, almost angelic, in the pale morning light streaming through the entrance. Her braids spilt across the woven mat like rivers of shadow, her lips parted in quiet sleep.

He stared at her for a moment, guilt already coiling in his stomach like a trapped serpent.

Oh, god. This was so sick.

His throat tightened as he looked away, his eyes darting back to the ceiling as though salvation could be found in the straw-and-wood lattice. Sänika was kind—too kind. She wasn’t the same as she used to be. She’s funny, easygoing, the sort of person who made everyone feel seen. Beautiful in a way that didn’t need effort. She deserved someone who looked at her and saw her.

But all Lo’ak could think about when he looked at her was you. And that? That felt so deeply, disgustingly wrong he wanted to crawl out of his own skin.

Fuck. Fuck. What was he doing?

He carefully, painstakingly slid out from under her arm, wincing when the motion caused her to stir. She sighed in her sleep, curling into the warm spot he left behind, and his chest squeezed painfully. He ran a hand down his face, shaking his head as if it would physically dislodge the tangled mess in his mind. Every nerve screamed at him to leave the hut before she woke up.

“Neteyam, I’ve fucked up.”

The soft hum of the morning light filtered through the fabric of the tent, casting a pale glow over the space. Neteyam reclined against his hammock, one leg hanging lazily over the edge, while his fingers absently scratched at his jaw, lost in thought. He looked at Lo’ak, whose posture was hunched and tense, the weight of something heavy on his chest.

“When do you not, baby brother? You want the truth?” Neteyam’s voice was casual, though his eyes had an unmistakable sharpness. His gaze softened just slightly as if he were reading his younger brother’s uncertainty like an open book.

Lo’ak’s eyes darted around the tent, avoiding his brother’s steady gaze, but there was no escaping the fact that Neteyam knew. He always knew.

“You’ve hurt a lot of girls’ feelings before, Lo’ak,”

Lo’ak sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling the sting of those words like a reminder of every mistake he’d ever made. “Yeah, thanks for the reminder.”

“And one of the most being…” Neteyam raised an eyebrow, his gaze narrowing at Lo’ak with an unspoken understanding. “You know who I’m talking about, right?” he said, leaning forward slightly, his voice lower now. “[Y/n], is she the one who’s got you all worked up? I saw you two talking for the first time in years yesterday!”

Lo’ak’s stomach tightened at the mention of you. The one he’d avoided, the one he’d left behind, the one who had no reason to even speak to him anymore. “You know, she still hates me, Neteyam.”

“Of course she does, you’re a skawxng!” The older brother studied his younger brother, watching the way his shoulders slumped with uncertainty. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“I don’t know,” Lo’ak said, the words thick with the frustration and helplessness he couldn’t seem to shake off. “I don’t know…”

For a moment, there was silence. The only sound was the soft rustling of the leaves outside the tent, the morning wind carrying the faintest sounds of the jungle waking up. Neteyam’a eyes bore into Lo’ak’s unsure figure, searching for the answer that Lo’ak himself didn’t seem to have.

The boy looked down, his mind racing as he wrestled with the flood of emotions crashing over him. He hadn’t expected this conversation to stir up so much—so many regrets, so much doubt, so much want for something that felt so far out of reach. “When Sänika and I kissed… it was out of a desperation. But, not as thought it was for her. It more or so felt like… I was running from something—someone. Myself.”

The older brother sighed, as if weighing his words carefully. Finally, he spoke, his tone even but pointed.

“Then, maybe, you should break up with her.”

The jungle below roared with chaos, the unmistakable sound of a human ambush erupting like a storm. Screams of warriors, the clash of weapons, and the metallic screeches of enemy machines tore through the dense air. Jake Sully, the Olo’eyktan, led the charge on his Ikran, barking commands to the warriors below, his voice a rallying cry against the invaders.

The younger soldiers, yourself included, circled high above the battlefield as spotters. From this vantage point, you tracked the enemy’s calculated movements—humans and their monstrous machines—relaying crucial information to the warriors on the ground.

Your Ikran dipped and soared, keeping pace with the others in your squad. Even amid the panic, you felt the steady rhythm of your companion’s wings and the reassuring presence of your squadmates nearby. It was your duty—your role—and you embraced it. But the battlefield was unpredictable, and even the best preparation couldn’t account for everything.

One moment, edge of the sky you moniter seemed clear, but then the next, enemy fire zipped through the air, cutting dangerously close to your group. You veered sharply, your body instinctively leaning with your Ikran as you narrowly avoided a direct hit.

A scream erupted behind you—sharp and guttural, slicing through the chaos like a knife. Your chest tightened, panic surging through your veins.

And then it happened.

A sharp pain bloomed in your side, fiery and immediate. Your breath caught as your vision blurred, and the world tilted violently. The cries of your squadmates faded into the background as you felt yourself falling.

Through the haze, you heard a voice—a panicked, desperate voice you hadn’t expected to hear, calling out for you.

Lo’ak.

He saw you plummeting through the sky, your body limp and unresponsive, like a broken leaf torn from the branches. His chest seized and a breath punched out of him in a wave so fierce it blurred everything else.

The battle still raged, but Lo’ak’s only focus was you.

“Neteyam!” His voice cracked, raw and desperate. “It’s [Y/n]! She’s hit!”

Neteyam’s voice cut through the commlink, steady and commanding despite the chaos. “Bro! Stay on her! I’ll cover!”

But Lo’ak barely registered the words. His vision tunnelled, narrowing to the single, horrifying image of you falling toward the dense jungle canopy below. Everything else faded—the shouts of his squadmates, the hum of enemy gunfire, even the burning in his muscles as he gripped the reins of his Ikran tighter.

Not now. Not you. Not like this.

Lo’ak’s heart thundered in his chest, each beat crashing like war drums against his ribs, ticking seconds reminding him of how much little time he had. He tightened his grip on his Ikran as he forced it into a reckless dive, the creature’s screech of protest swallowed by the roar of the wind. The air stung his face, ripping tears from his eyes as he plunged after you.

The ground loomed closer with every breathless second. Through the tangled chaos of branches and leaves, he caught glimpses of your body, limp and free-falling—a sight that set his every being ablaze with panic.

Guilt struck him like a blade, sharp and merciless. Was the last time the last time?

This can’t be it. It can’t end like this. She doesn’t even know…

But deeper, a cruel voice whispered from the shadows of his mind: You don’t deserve to save her. Not after what you did. Not after you pushed her away.

He shoved the thought down, locking it away where it couldn’t slow him. There wasn’t time for regret or self-loathing. Not with you hurtling toward the ground. Not with the seconds slipping through his grasp, threatening to take you with them.

“You’re not dying today,” Tears blurred his vision as he urged his Ikran faster, pushing it past its limits. “Not on my watch.”

And then he reached you.

With a final, desperate swoop, his arms locked around your body in a frantic grasp. The collision was rough, the force of it jolting through him as his Ikran shrieked and struggled to steady its frantic, beating wings.

The warmth of your body against his sent a shiver down his spine—a reminder that you were still alive, still here, even if just barely. “I’ve got you.”

You stirred faintly, your eyes fluttering open for a brief moment. Even in your blurred, half-conscious state, your gaze met his. What he saw in your eyes—confusion, pain, something else he couldn’t quite place—shattered what little composure he had left.

Tears streaked his face as he tightened his grip on you, his heart aching with an intensity he hadn’t felt in years. He looked to the horizon, where Neteyam’s figure flew above. He nodded once, a silent agreement passing before Lo’ak headed his Ikran toward the healing tents.

As you faded in and out of consciousness, you felt the heat of his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around you. He pressed his forehead against yours, his tears hot against your skin. “You don’t get to do this. Not to me. Not after all this time.” His voice dropped, a whisper now, raw and trembling. “I can’t lose you to them—when I’m right here.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching your pale face for any further sign of life. “Stay with me, okay? Just… stay.” His words were a command and a prayer, his voice breaking with the weight of both.

His Ikran dove toward the healing tents, the wind whipping past them, “Come on,” he pleaded, his voice low and strained, breaking with every word. “Please, please… don’t leave me. Don’t let me be too late.”

The healing tent was dim, the air thick with the familiar scent of herbs and the soft murmur of the forest outside. Mo’at was calm, an aura of certainty surrounding her as she worked. She didn’t rush, didn’t panic. But Lo’ak, his heart pounding in his chest, hovered at the edge of the mat where you lay, unmoving. His breathing was hitched and he couldn’t think clearly. The only thing he could focus on was the shallow rise and fall of your chest.

“Mo’at—Tsahik,” he rasped, his voice strained with desperation. “Please, you have to help her. It’s [Y/n]. She’s—she’s been hurt so bad. Please.”

Mo’at turned sharply at the sound of his voice, her eyes narrowing as they fell on you. Without hesitation, she gestured for her assistants to bring a mat, her commands rapid and clipped, carrying the authority of generations.

“Lay her down here. Quickly!” she ordered, her voice firm and unwavering. She knelt beside you, her hands already moving with precision, gathering herbs and ointments from nearby bowls. Her deft fingers crushed bright green leaves into a paste, mixing it with an oil that filled the air with a sharp, earthy aroma.

“Keep her steady,” she said to Lo’ak, barely sparing him a glance. She smeared the paste across the wound, the mixture sinking into your skin like it had a life of its own. Her chants began, low and rhythmic, as she pressed her hands over the injury, her fingers glowing faintly with the energy of Eywa. The air seemed to hum, charged with a warmth that pulsed in time with her words.

Lo’ak knelt beside you, his trembling hands hovering over your arm but not daring to interfere. His eyes darted between your pale face and Mo’at’s focused expression, hope and terror warring within him. “Is she gonna be okay?”

Mo’at didn’t answer at first, her concentration razor-sharp as she worked. She murmured another chant under her breath, her fingers moving with practiced precision to apply more of the healing paste to your wounds. One of her assistants handed her a roll of soft, woven bandages, which she began wrapping around your torso, her movements deliberate and sure.

“She is strong,” Mo’at said finally, her tone calm yet firm. “But her spirit walks a fine line. The healing will hold if she finds the will to stay.”

A few hours later…

Mo’at’s steady gaze met his, and for a moment, she didn’t say anything. She simply assessed him, reading the raw panic in his eyes, the way his hands trembled as he reached out but then pulled back, as though he couldn’t bring himself to touch you just yet.

Mo’at’s lips parted, the wisdom in her eyes knowing far more than Lo’ak would ever let her see. She shook her head slightly, almost imperceptibly. “Boy,” she murmured, her voice a mixture of reprimand and understanding, “despite saving her, you have been foolish.”

Lo’ak’s expression remained dull, but she continued, pressing the pressure points along your injured body with expert care. Her hands were steady, almost sacred as they moved, and she wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily.

“You think I don’t see it?” she asked, her voice still low, but sharp with the truth. “You think I don’t know what this is?” Her eyes flicked briefly to you, then back to Lo’ak. “She was your friend once, your companion. But, you were afraid. “You care for her, Lo’ak. I see it in the way you cannot leave her side. I see it the way your hands shake every time you think she might not breathe again. I see it in you.

She paused, eyes lingering slightly as if searching his soul. “I know what you’re thinking. All is not lost.”

His fingers gently traced over the soft skin of your hand, too afraid to squeeze, too afraid to do anything that might hurt you further. His hands found their way back to your wrist, as though touching you, even this way, could make a difference.

“I don’t know what to do,” Lo’ak said hoarsely.

“You do not need to fix what is already broken, child,” Mo’at said softly, her voice carrying the weight of years spent in the presence of Eywa. “What is torn can be mended, but only if you let go of your pride, your fear. If you will not hold her back, if you will not push her away again.”

She didn’t need to say more. The silence in the tent was louder than any words.

“She will live,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper, yet it held the weight of confirmation. “But only if you let her breathe when she wakes. If you do not smother her with the weight of your guilt.”

The world around you was hazy, your vision a blur of shifting colours and dim shadows. The air felt heavy, thick with the overwhelming scent of healing herbs that clung to your skin, mixing with the familiar, earthy aroma of the jungle—a smell that, despite the circumstances, brought a sense of grounding. Every breath you took seemed to rattle your ribs, a sharp ache spreading through your body, but it was the pain in your side that was most consuming. The bandages felt tight, wrapped around your torso in an unrelenting embrace that pressed down on every wound, reminding you of how broken you felt.

For a moment, you wondered if this was real—if you were still stuck somewhere between the worlds of consciousness and unconsciousness. Your head spun with fragments of fading memories—flashes of chaos, of battle, of a cry in the distance—and then,

You froze.

You felt something else. Warmth. A presence beside you.

Lo’ak’s arm was draped across your waist, his fingers resting gently on your hip, a weight that both comforted and startled you. His proximity was overwhelming, too close, too intimate. It left you breathless, a sharp realization running through you—this was wrong. You shouldn’t be here, in this position, with him like this.

But there he was, fingers tightening just slightly, as though afraid you might vanish if he loosened his grip.

You blinked slowly, heart pounding in your chest. His steady breath was the only sound you could focus on. But, eventually, your breath caught in your throat, and you shifted uncomfortably, instinctively pushing his arm off of you.

Lo’ak jolted awake, his eyes widening as he registered the position you were in. Panic flickered across his face as he quickly scrambled to sit up. “Shit, shit, I— I’m sorry. I didn’t realise—”

But before he could finish, you tried to sit up, only for a sharp, agonizing pain to seize your body. A gasp escaped your lips, and Lo’ak was instantly by your side, his hands gently but firmly pushing you back down. His touch was urgent yet tender as if he couldn’t bear for you to move too much. “Hey, hey, no. Not yet,” he murmured, his voice steady but laced with concern. “You need to stay down. You shouldn’t be moving around like that.”

You were breathing heavily before you finally rested your head back on the woven pillow, letting out a strained breath as you held onto your torso. “What was it? A bullet wound? Ship inbound south?”

But Lo’ak couldn’t shake the image of you, pale and unconscious, lying in his arms.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered, the rawness in his voice betraying the fear that still gripped him.

But everything in you screamed to pull away. Every part of you screamed for space, for freedom, from the confusion swirling in your chest. You didn’t want to feel this—didn’t want to feel him and everything else. Not now. Not after all this time.

You could still feel the weight of his touch lingering on your skin, even though he hadn’t moved. It felt like too much. Too much of everything—too many memories, too many emotions, too much hurt that you weren’t ready to face.

You turned your head, closing yourself off, instinctively seeking space from the one person who had always known you too well. “I’m fine,” you muttered, voice strained, as you tried to push past the moment, to erase the tension.

And that broke him.

“Don’t, please don’t turn away from me like that.”

Your chest tightened at the sound of his cracked desperation, and before you even realized it, the first tear slipped down your cheek, a silent testament to everything you’d been swallowing for so long. Then another. And another. The floodgates opened, and you couldn’t stop it. The rage, the heartbreak, and the confusion all collided inside you, and it felt like you were choking on it.

You wiped your face shortly before turning back to face him, refusing to let him see you as weak, but the tears kept coming and it felt like every breath you took was filled with the weight of all the years you’d spent holding this in.

“Why? Why can’t I?” Your voice cracked, each word trembling with the weight of your emotions, your sobs raw and desperate. Without thinking, you struck his chest, but the punch was weak—your fury still sharp, but tangled with something softer, something that hurt more than the anger itself. “You just decide leave my life for what seemed like forever, and now you’re back, begging me not to turn my back on you as if you didn’t do that to me first? Tell me, how—how does any of that make any sense? How is any of that fair?”

Lo’ak flinched at your touch, but he didn’t pull away. He didn’t fight back. He didn’t make excuses, didn’t try to defend himself. There were no words that could change the past. So, he stood there, letting the storm of your emotions crash over him. Every word, every tear, every breath you took felt like a weight he deserved to bear.

You grunted, frustration bubbling up inside you as you shoved him away again, the motion too weak to be anything but a desperate push for distance. You couldn’t stand being this close to him and yet feeling so far apart. “I know about Sänika—I know about everything. Why? Why, Your words caught in your throat, each one harder to say than the last. “How could you do that to me?”

Lo’ak’s eyes fell shut, and he felt a heavy weight settle in his chest. He hated seeing you like this—angry, hurt, broken—and he hated himself even more for being the one who had caused it.

“I was scared of losing you after Iknimaya,” he admitted, his words stumbling over themselves. He clenched his fists at his sides, as though holding himself together and resisting himself from holding you.

“What?” You stared at him, your anger faltering only for a moment, but the pain was still there, sharp and raw.

“I was scared,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, as though the truth was too heavy for him to bear. It took everything in him to admit it, but here he was, admitting it. To you. That you’d… want someone else. And I’d just be nothing more than a friend to you.”

The vulnerability in his voice was evident like he was confessing something that had been eating away at him for far too long. He winced, hating himself for the weakness, but the truth had to come out. “I couldn’t bear that. Not with you right there, within reach, always in front of me. So, I left.”

Lo’ak’s breath hitched, his chest tightening like a vice. He couldn’t look at you. Not now. Not with all the mess he’d made of everything.

“You didn’t care when we talked about other girls,” he muttered, each word feeling heavier than the last. He swallowed hard, but it didn’t stop the choking feeling in his throat. “So I… thought you didn’t—I didn’t think it mattered.”

He closed his eyes as if to stop himself from falling apart completely. But it didn’t work. It was all crashing down. “With Sänika,” His voice cracked, the words barely there. “We’re not together. We never really were. Because I can’t love anyone else.”

He almost didn’t want to speak anymore, terrified of what else might spill out. But there was nothing left to hide. No more masks. No more walls. Just a broken, desperate mess in front of you.

The silence that followed was deafening. You sat there, not moving, but the anger in your eyes was unmistakable. Lo’ak could feel it like a physical blow, but he stayed still, waiting for you to say something—anything—or even nothing at all, to leave.

But then, without warning, you cupped his face in your hands, Lo’ak’s breath hitched as he looked into your eyes, trying to find something—anything—that would help ground him of what had just spilt from his lips.

But, you didn’t give it. Not at first. Instead, you slapped him, Yet, in that same split second, you weren’t thinking anymore.

You leaned forward, crashing your lips against his, causing Lo’ak to stumble back slightly on his elbows. His arms moved around you, pulling you closer, as though afraid you might slip away again. He ignored the way his cheek burned where your hand laid.

It wasn’t calculated or planned. It was sudden, and passionate, all the feelings you had locked away for so long spilling out in that single, electric moment. His lips felt so soft and truly desperate, for all the right reasons this time. It was as if he, too, was tired of fighting.

His breath was shaky, and so was yours, each inhale a mix of relief and longing. His chest rose and fell beneath your hands, and you could feel the beat of his heart echoing in his chest, frantic and alive. Your hands moved instinctively, sliding up to his neck as if it were the only thing you could cling to at that moment as he rawfully kissed you. Like he needed this more than words could explain. You could feel like he was pouring everything he had left into you, trying to undo all the mistakes and all the lost time, with every move he made.

The kiss was more than an apology—it was a confession, an unspoken admission that both of you had been holding on to something. Something that neither of you could let go of.

As you both pulled away, Lo’ak’s hand gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your skin in a way that made everything else feel distant and unimportant. Slowly, he leaned forward, his forehead pressing gently against yours, the warmth of his skin grounding you in the moment. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted that.”

The world around you faded, and for a heartbeat, it was just the two of you.

“Lo’ak,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath. “Promise me you won’t ever doubt me and you ever again?.”

Lo’ak’s closed eyes flickered open to meet your piercing ones, humming a low, “I promise.”

And just like that, for the first time in ages, the wound within you— the one that had been so raw and painful—didn’t hurt as much anymore. It had softened, faded into the background, replaced by something new, something whole. Something that had been waiting for this moment to heal.

It felt like you could finally breathe.

AHHHHHH thank you for reading! 💞💞 i spent so much time editing i can’t even remember which scenes i kept so i’m really leaving it up to y’all’s about what y’all’s think of the way the events turned out. not expecting much since this is the very first fic i’ve actually been able to finish that is like 12 k words long, and there’s probably a lot of AFIs. BUTT atleast i was able to start and finished something so passionately long like this for the first time. hope y’all’s enjoyed!

as always — likes, comments, reblogs are deeply appreciated. 🫶🏻

requested tags:

@starduszt @sodapopsluvr @pluhhbaby @nerdylawyerbanditprofessor-blog

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toribookworm22 · 1 month ago

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Final Thoughts On 2024

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

This year seems a bit like a dream. I wrote my first feature film starring two aromantic lesbians. I drafted the trauma play about my high school theatre experience. I found new ways to dress like myself. I got angry about things I've needed to be angry about. I served as a department ambassador at TVFest. I made some of the best little new friends. I hung out with my friends more. I got my first sports bra that actually fits me. I started a new musical. I met one of the best professors and people I've ever loved. I secretaried so many writing club meetings. I got back on pointe. I finally finished The Trials of Apollo. I wrote a dance history paper on dance as recordkeeping across different times of trial. I learned how to make scones-- and they're so good! I binged my way through animated Batman shows. I finally watched Harley Quinn! I stage managed a show! I said goodbye for now to all my graduating friends. I flew first class (so strange!). I finally visited where I was born and where my parents lived in Germany. I went back to Neuschwanstein castle! I ate so much Gelato. I spent the summer abroad in France. I lived in a silly little basement with my silly little friend. I pretty much grew attached at the hip to both some old friends and new ones alike. I traveled to Marseille, Paris (twice!), Avignon, Apt, Geneva, Colmar, Nice, and Monacco. I tried champagne at the Moulin Rouge. I fell in love with two of my friends in particular. I flew by myself. One of my scripts was chosen for a reading. I survived my first (and last) 8pm class. I ran so much! I saw The Wild Robot in theaters with my friend. I looked super cute all October. I met up with so many of my friends. My friend and I dressed up together for Halloween. (I was Bingo.) I was selected to introduce a speaker. My two best friends took me out for my birthday. My favorite professor invited me out to eat. I edited my trauma play!! My professor started reading my books! I did so much at film fest. I did one last hang out with my friends. I moved out of my apartment. I graduated college. I moved back home. I visited my friend and we went to parks in Orlando and we swapped dance cultures. I released my third novel. I had the coziest Christmas and soft season after it. I wrote a lot. I loved a lot.

And for all its ups and downs, written out like this, it really does seem like the most wonderful little dream. Thank you, 2024. Your edges were soft to me. And I felt loved.

#final thoughts on 2024 #love list #bookworming #bookworm updates

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crescencestudio · 6 months ago

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๋࣭⭑ Devlog #44 | 8.29.24 ๋࣭⭑

why did august feel so long and so short at the same time

And hot girl summer finally comes to an end! Can you all believe we're already getting into September? That's..... crazy.

Before I get into the devlog this month, I want to make a small announcement! It's a bittersweet one, but overall, I do think it's more exciting than anything.

Crescence is FINALLY CLOSE TO GRADUATING!!!!

It's crazy to be able to say this. For anyone who's an OG fan of Alaris, you'll know I basically started game development at the same time I started my Ph.D. program. It's been a wild ride having to balance game development throughout this entire journey. Funnily enough, when I started Alaris, I saw many game developers say a game that was around the same length as Alaris would take about 4-5 years. So at the beginning of my program, I remember thinking, "Ahh... So even though it sounds so intimidating to work on something for 4-5 years, that basically means by the time I finish my Ph.D., I'll be done with Alaris, right? Might as well start then! If I'm going to spend those 4-5 years getting a degree, might as well also use that time to make a game :D"

*Graduates before I finish Alaris alosjdfliasdifj*

inserts a little fanart montage of recent fanart players have made to break up the text

Anyways, it's crazy that I've been on this journey for both parts of my life as long as I have. Both my dissertation and Alaris have equally tested my sanity, but words can't describe how rewarding it is to see the finish line finally in sight for both projects.

The thing is...

If I want to graduate this semester (which I so, so, so, so, SO desperately do), I have to write my entire dissertation (about 60k words) in about..... a 1-1.5 months, haha.....

On the bright side, it's feasible (Crescence says delusionally). On the not-so-bright side, it's going to test my sanity. And if there's a 5% chance I'll be able to make those deadlines and graduate this semester, that chance goes to 0% if I try to balance Alaris on top of that.

Which means...

I'll be taking a two month break from Alaris development, which is the first time in all of development that I'll be taking a break that long. For those who have followed me on this journey, you may know I've worked on my firstborn baby almost continuously since I first started this project. While I've balanced other games during development and sometimes taken short breaks where I don't make as much progress, I've never just Not Worked on Alaris. So it's a bit terrifying to imagine two months not working on Alaris at all.

But graduating this semester is important to me, and at the end of the day, as much as I love game development, it's very much my hobby. I don't talk about my IRL obligations on here too much, but I do have them, and finally getting my Ph.D. degree is one of my biggest IRL obligations and priorities.

So it's with tears in my eyes that I say Alaris will be on a break until the end of October. I'll still be around to answer questions (thank you to everyone who has been sending them in and showing sm curiosity and love for the cast!), and the Patreon will still be up for those who want to play Druk's beta. But aside from that, I'm taking a Full Break on Alaris so that I can buckle down and focus on the final stage of my degree :')

I know this may come as a disappointment to some of you, especially those who have followed me for a while and/or are eager to see the full game release. It pains me to have to step away from Alaris for such an extended time, especially since the weight of full game release does weigh on me with each day lmfao. I want this game out just as badly as the rest of you, and especially because so many of you have trusted me with your money, time, and support, please rest assured that this decision didn't come easy. It's my biggest hope that when I return to game development after finishing dissertation matters, it will be full steam ahead now that I'll no longer have degree obligations hanging over my head.

With that out of the way, let's go into this month's devlog! I'll try to make it as juicy as possible for you all as a thank you for your patience and support while I Get That Degree <3

Thankfully, this past month was much more focused in the writing department! While there was some small editing happening in Fenir and Druk's routes, it was minor changes compared to July. Most of my attention was on Kuna'a, and I'm very excited to say that the first draft of his route is OFFICIALLY FINISHED!!!

THAT MEANS ONLY ONE ROUTE IS LEFT FOR ALARIS TO BE WRITTEN!!!!!! It is so crazy to finally reach the last stretch of script writing. While I'm sure there's much editing to be done, the idea of having the base drafts finished is honestly hard to believe considering how endless script writing has felt.

A sneak peek of Kuna'a's route to celebrate

With how plot-centric the last three routes feel, it's also rewarding in a different way to officially write out a lot of the main plot details into the script, instead of just dropping bits and pieces here and there.

It makes me sad to pause Alaris development right when we're getting into the last meaty bits and pieces, but hopefully this just means when I return to development, I'll be hitting the ground running after missing working on the game ^^

Art has also been making lots of nice progress this month! I finished about half of Druk's CGs and our current CG counter is.... 25 out of 54! Which means we're just about reaching the halfway mark with CGs as well ^^

One of the CGs was so hot, it broke my iPad and almost lost ALL MY ALARIS ART ASSETS!! ha!! ha!! ha!! That was a fun part of this month!!!! Anyways, this isn't the CG in question (that one would be too spoilery to show, though it is on my Patreon for those who want to see it, heh), but this is a CG that I'm particularly fond of that I finished recently---Sneak Peek!

What lipgloss do you use, my man

CGs, aside from sprites, are the last main art assets that need to be done for the game. So knowing that they're just about at the halfway mark really shows that we're getting into the last stretch of the game's development!!

Finally, in extremely exciting news, we launched Druk's beta recently! WHICH MEANS..... HALF of the routes are beta coded for the game!!! WHAAAAT!!!!

Obviously, I'll be going in later to fix up some things, add in more sprite expressions, the CGs, etc. at a later time for these routes. But the fact half of the game is basically coded is so surreal...... I remember when these updates were just me telling you I was still writing and that was literally it LFJALSDJF.

Now, we're here on our third route to be beta tested!!!

everyone thank @minthe-drawings for drawing our beefy boy in all his beefy glory

Druk's beta will be up for a while since I'll be on break from development, but if you'd like to play his beta, sign up for Hydra on my Patreon!

This month, we've also started including drabbles to the Patreon for free members. So if you don't have funds to support through paid tiers but would still like some extra content, I've started writing drabbles that are free for anyone following my Patreon to read ^^

Finally, as one last thank you before I go on my break, we recently reached this milestone on itch.io!!! Y'all have downloaded Crescence games 100k times and played my games over 200k TIMES.... (we technically reached 200k plays a while ago, but I wanted to wait until the downloads number was a pretty 100k).

not to mention the other milestones we've hit. thank you all for your support ;_;

It's crazy to even see this kind of number on my page.... I remember I used to see other amazing devs post these kinds of numbers and I could only dream that one day I'd be able to experience that kind of engagement. And so seeing that number for myself.... it's just really humbling to know you've all supported me for this long and to know I've reached the amount of players that I have <3 Thank you as always for the support and love you've all given my games. One day I will reward you all in kind and release Alaris....LFMALSDIJF

For market research this month, I have been trying to play Fields of Mistria in the small pockets of free time that I have. March and Eiland my beloved. But what I really want to highlight this month is...

No one is surprised that I am, once again, telling you to support @ravenstargames

Lost in Limbo is a phenomenal dark fantasy VN that just released their demo and went live with their Kickstarter. The team is made up of some of the kindest, funniest, most hardworking, and talented people that I know, and I can't recommend the demo enough. The cast is diverse and has so much character (I literally love every character). The writing is beautiful, and the art is absolutely stunning. It's the team's first game, but you wouldn't know it from how polished, immersive, and breathtaking the demo is! Please consider supporting the team, whether it's playing the game or backing the Kickstarter. They deserve every ounce of success they get, and if you're a fan of fantasy and stunning storytelling, you will LOVE THIS GAME!!! Envy stans RISE!!!!

That's all for this month (and for the next two months.... wah.... don't forget about me everyone...)! Hope everyone stays well and warm as we enter fall, and I'll see you all in November <3 I'll miss you all dearly (I say this as if I won't still be around to answer asks), and hopefully when I return, I'll be making my debut as DR. CRESCENCE!!!! \o/

#alaris #devlog

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 5 months ago

Note

Good day to you.

Can you write a top reader w/ bottom G!P Donna. Where Donna actually has a high sex drive, so the reader would drink some sort of aphrodisiac and accidentally put in a high dosage, which makes Donna unable to keep up; despite the high sex drive and comes up with a solution(I'll leave that up to you)

I really love your works & thank you for keeping the fandom alive in my eyes. 🫀

Yesss!!!!! Thank you for your words of appretiation and for your request, it was so funny to write!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

Overwhelming desire

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem!! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, fluff,

Word count: 7,596

Summary: You maybe need some help...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!!I love you all!!!

You closed your eyes to deepen the pleasure you were feeling. A wet, warm and, as always, overwhelming pleasure.

Her thrusts were soft, but determined, not wasting time but enjoying that improvised passion surrounded by wooden limbs, by the dim and almost sinister lighting of the old workshop.

“Donna…” you moaned, clinging to her as your body rose and fell slowly, guided by her hands, by the slow and hot rhythm of her moans.

Your body enjoyed it. It shuddered every time your walls clung to the lady in black, every time you gave her that obscene and hot hug. The only thing you could say was her name. The only thing you could think about was her. Donna was everything to you, and you were to her too.

Her hands caressed your back, guiding your hips to dance to the music of her passion. You were in heaven, but, somehow, you couldn't reach it. It was a curious irony; pleasure dominated you, your movements were smooth and sure, as if there was nothing different about that old chair.

In part, you weren't wrong. It wasn't the first time that one of your visits to the doll maker ended that way, melting your bodies into one, making love in a wild but tender way. You couldn't get tired of that expression of the brunette about her feelings, that lustful and hot way she had to say with her body, and with her soul, everything you meant to her.

“Amore mio…” she sighed, handling your body effortlessly, sliding into your wet walls without having to ask permission to do so.

Your body always welcomed her, always offered her that warm and comfortable refuge.

“Honey…” you murmured, noticing how her erection moved erratically, how the rhythm of her hips fought against yours, how little by little she lost control and the soft caresses on your back became strong grips on the fabric of your dress.

Lady Beneviento always had that problem, the fear that you would abandon her when she needed you the most, when the heat of your body became irresistibly tempting, even addictive, when hers asked to be released among messy moans.

You would never do it. You would never separate from her. It didn't matter under what circumstances. It didn't matter if you were making love, cooking, simply reading or sleeping. Donna was everything to you, you would never abandon her. You would always please her. Your body would always receive hers as a divine gift.

Your body stopped moving, letting Donna finish what she started, letting her to move at will, to do with you what she wanted. It wasn't a whim, or a desire for the lady in black to dominate your improvised passions.

No, not at all. You were always the one on top, the one who guided her movements, the one who enjoyed listening to her moans, the one who played with her body inside yours the way you wanted.

But that afternoon in the workshop, that sexual dance of clothed, sweaty, passionate bodies, was a bit different from the rest, and you knew why.

“(Y/N)… I’m… Sto per…” Donna stammered, squeezing your hips, holding you in her favorite position when, with a final moan, she released herself inside of you, caressing your body with the heat of her seed, filling you with it, claiming you, tensing with the pleasure of that unmatched sensation.

Panting replaced moans. She pulled away so she could smile at you, so she could tell you with her kisses she loved you while the moisture struggled to stay between your legs.

“Donna…” you sighed, hugging her in a much more comfortable position, leaning on her shoulder.

Your face sketched a tender smile and your eyes closed again. The sweet sound of her shy laugh reached your ears as she held you against her, gently rocking you, coming out of you with an obscene sound.

She sighed, relaxing even more, kissing everything she could reach: your face, your hair, your mouth…

Her bright eye looked at you lovingly, tenderly, far from that aura of lust she had minutes before. But there was something different, something in her gaze, in her slightly furrowed brow that told you there was something wrong.

“What's wrong, darling?” you asked when you saw that spark of concern in her eye, when, after a last kiss on her lips, you got off her lap, uncomfortable with the humidity, wanting to get rid of it under the hot water of a shower. “Didn't you enjoy it?”

“Mm?” she murmured with a distracted look, as if she was focused on your face, on your movements. “Oh, of course, of course I enjoyed it, tesoro... You always make me enjoy it so much...”

Her voice calmed you, as did the hand that reached out to caress yours gently, pulling your body so you would come closer.

“What's the problem?” you asked, with a softer tone, enjoying the softness of her skin.

Donna looked away embarrassed, shaking her head, moving her lips as she always did when she tried to say something and she couldn't.

“Um, I… I haven't noticed that you…” she stammered, avoiding your gaze, squeezing your hand a bit tighter. “You haven't… You haven't… You haven't had an orgasm.”

You smiled falsely, moving closer to caress her cheek, to erase from her gaze any hint of doubt or insecurity.

“Of course I have, my love,” you said with a broken voice, nodding, with your radiant smile ceasing to shine little by little.

“Why are you lying to me?” Donna asked, with a darker look, with seriousness in her features. You should stop trying to deceive her. You couldn't do it, not anymore. “Don't take me for a fool, I know when you have it, and you haven't had it, your body hasn't tensed up.”

“Oh…” you sighed, closing your eyes, blushing due to your lie, searching in your mind for the best possible explanation to that reality you could no longer deny. “I'm sorry, Donna, I didn't mean to lie to you.”

Your apologies were heard with an attentive, almost angry look. You knew it wasn't your fault, you knew that anger, that frustration for not having been able to please you, was directed at herself.

“It was my fault, right?” the brunette said, changing anger for sadness, with her cheeks red from shame, for what she believed, had been a failure.

“Oh, no, no, honey,” you said quickly, removing the shadow of her demons that was already beginning to hover over her head and bending down to be at her height, playing with both of her hands.

“Haven't I lasted long enough?” she asked again, with a calmer voice, surely distracted by your caresses.

“It's not that, honey...” you murmured with a confident voice, willing to find the best way to explain the problem sincerely. “It's just that... Well, I already had two orgasms this morning...”

She watched you, probably looking for the lie again.

“Usually that's not an impediment for you to have more,” the lady commented distrustfully, sighing, keeping her shame back in her underwear. “If I've done something wrong, just...”

“Donna,” you said with a more severe voice, putting your hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at your face. “You haven't done anything wrong. You've been great, as always, understood?”

She nodded, scared by the abruptness of your behavior. At least you had made it clear...

“O-okay,” she stammered, nodding slowly. You sighed in relief, kissing her quickly and slowly getting up. “But... Hey, come, come here,” she said, pulling you again, sitting you on her lap.

You couldn't help but smile tenderly, as always when you received those affectionate gestures, those soft kisses on your neck.

“Mm... Donna,” you laughed, feeling the tickling of her lips on your skin, giving you shivers.

“I'm not going to let you go, tesoro...” she murmured, caressing your legs under your dress, getting closer to your soaked underwear. “Shh, let me take care of this...”

You opened your eyes wide, automatically shaking your head. No, you'd had enough.

“Umm, no, no, it's not necessary,” you said, getting off of her again, leaving her with the same surprised and confused expression. “I'm fine...”

“But I want to please you,” she protested, trying to pull you back. “I can do it without my penis, really, trust me...”

You laughed nervously. Well, she didn't have to lie. She was like you a while back. Even though that offer was tempting, truly interesting, your body although always willing, that day was exhausted, tired.

“Donna, no...” you said nervously, gesturing with your hand. “I prefer, I prefer to relax.”

The lady looked at you curiously, tilting her head in a funny way, but finally, she nodded, with a frustrated gesture on her face.

“As you wish, (Y/N),” Donna finally whispered.

You nodded with a smile, approaching to rub her back affectionately, stealing a kiss on her cheek.

“I'm going to take a shower and then, if you want, I'll prepare (Y/N)'s famous meatballs for you,” you commented, whispering in her ear and earning another shy laugh, another dazzling smile. “No, no, no, no, don't even try to deny it... I know you love them...”

“Mm, maybe it's because I told you the recipe,” she murmured, with a mischievous smile.

“Oh, maybe it's, but you haven't named them, honey,” you joked, moving away from her with a sigh.

“W-Wait,” Donna interrupted, just when you were already walking towards the exit. “I, I need a shower too, can I join you?”

“Oh, um...” you said, with a confused look. You knew how that shower was going to end, how your body would be taken by her desire again. Shyly, you shook your head. “Mm, no, I... I need some... Peace,” you said in a low voice, transmitting sincerity with your gaze, not cowardice.

“Oh, well, va bene,” she said, apparently without giving it any importance, getting up from the table and grabbing you by the waist, kissing you slowly before separating your paths in that dark basement.

The hot water ran down your body slowly, relaxing the unfinished tension in your muscles. Although you didn't give importance to the fact that you couldn't release yourself, you couldn't stop thinking about it.

Normally your body was always versatile, adapting to all the situations that appeared in front of it, to all those outbursts of passion. Lately, it seemed to be having a hard time, and you had no doubt why.

You, a simple villager, born into a humble, hard-working family, loyal to the Black Gods and Mother Miranda, had changed your life completely. You wouldn’t longer be the boring and unhappy wife of an idiot, and your life would not be boring and flat, meaningless, irrelevant.

You never saw those options as valid for someone like you and, as if fate agreed with you, it offered you a way out of the tedious routine.

Donna Beneviento, Lord, servant of the Black Gods, seemed like that sign you were waiting for all your life, the sign that told you that your life would never be the same again.

Sick, disturbed, dangerous woman… Adjectives that always accompanied the dark lady in black, that shadow walking like a ghost, who rarely let herself be seen. Curiosity had always been one of your greatest virtues, or one of your greatest defects, you couldn't say exactly what.

That curiosity coming from the boredom to which your life was condemned, made you want to know something about that strange woman, the darkest, youngest, and most dangerous of the Lords.

Everything you believed in blurred like a sigh, with a hoarse and soft voice, with a melodic accent coming out of that black veil.

You, believing that true love was a divinity far removed from the Black Gods, that those true feelings were not programmed for you, you saw yourself completely lost in those soft hands, in that tone of voice, in that shyness, that sweetness that you, only you, were able to see in Lady Beneviento.

Nothing, nothing could make those feelings fade away, not even the deformity of her face, not even that stupid scar that Donna hid under the black veil was able to hide her beauty.

She was a sick woman, yes, self-conscious, ashamed of her appearance, of her body. Luckily, you came into her life like the light that was missing in hers, like the voice that repeated over and over again how perfect she was for you.

Everything was going well, it was perfect. You loved her, she loved you. You lived with her in that beautiful, dark mansion. Everything seemed idyllic, until your flaws came to light again.

You weren't interested in love until you met Donna, but you had shared moments of meaningless passion with some of the girls in the village. Sex was something natural, necessary, and for you, it was nothing but an entertainment.

That thought was distorted by the desire to love Donna, by the desire to complete the piece of the puzzle your relationship was. She didn't care about making love, for her it was something shameful, something she didn't think she was capable of doing.

Her eternal loneliness, her unusual body… It loomed over the lady in black, forcing her to reject all your advances.

But that, obviously, didn't last forever. When finally, one random night, after a random romantic dinner, you managed to get rid of her fears, put aside her insecurities and make love to her for the first time.

It was an amazing experience, even for you, a more experienced girl. Donna was gentle, soft, kind, romantic. Yes, of course, that was what it meant to make love to someone you loved.

But it all soon came back to haunt you. Your insistence, the arguments you had with Donna before she let herself get carried away by passion, had the opposite effect to what they had intended.

The carnal pleasure of entering your body was something new for her, something she hadn’t been lucky enough to enjoy. Tasting you, touching the pleasure with her own hands, experiencing it in her own body instead of imagining it, was a turning point for the doll maker.

It was like an addictive drug, once you try it, you can't stop. Something similar happened to Donna.

Morning, noon, afternoon, night, dawn... Any time of day was good for her, any time was ideal to let herself be carried away by desire, to love you. It was an almost excessive, obsessive passion, but one that you welcomed.

Her sexual desire seemed to have no limits. She had stopped being the prudish, chaste and shameful Donna, to become a love machine, a bundle of nerves wanting to make love to you whenever her body asked for it.

You got what you wanted, but also, more than you asked for. That radical change in the brunette could be a simple phase, an unleashing, a release of that passion contained by all those years of loneliness.

It was not a phase, she continued wanting more, and more…

It was not something bad for you. You enjoyed each one of those moments, but your body… Your body had been crying out for rest for a long time. All your muscles were tense. Sleep dominated your daily routine. You began to feel overwhelmed.

Talking to her might seem like the best option, but it wasn't possible. You knew her. You knew her mental problems, her insecurities. You couldn't just say "no", that would make poor Donna think you didn't love her anymore.

On the other hand, you wanted your body to relax, to stop being that weak. Donna wasn't a selfish woman. She liked to hear you moan in pleasure, to see how your body writhed on hers. Her release didn't make sense to her if she couldn't get yours.

You liked her the way she was. You loved that passion, but... You would have to start looking for a solution.

It was a quiet meal. Neither of you made any comment about what had happened. Donna was not exactly the most talkative woman in the world, which made you take advantage of that quiet lunch to mull over the worries in your mind.

Really, what your body needed was a break, and you knew that. But the dark part of your mind, the lust that was indulged day after day, didn’t want to lose the pleasure of those moments.

Possible solutions flew through your head, through your thoughts. No, talking was not among the options, asking Donna for a truce could lead to a crisis, or an argument. You would have to do something, before the lady in black realized that your body could no longer bear her sexual impulse.

“Delicious, huh?” you asked amused, breaking that relaxing silence.

Donna smiled at you, nodding pleased, as always when you did something, anything for her. She was wonderful, you couldn’t fail her.

“Everything you do is delicious,” she murmured with that melodic voice that drove you crazy, that made you bite your lip involuntarily.

“How flattering...” you sighed with a tender voice, arching your eyebrows. She looked at you again, shaking her head.

“I like to flatter you,” the lady said with a serious voice, stating an unshakable truth for her.

“Mmm, I know...” you sighed, looking down, uncomfortable with the pain your body felt, feeling that little by little, that desire was disappearing from it, that her sweet words no longer had the same effect.

You needed that solution.

“The Duke will come tomorrow,” Donna said, changing the subject erratically, as always. “If you want to ask him for something specific, you still have time.”

“Oh, yes…” you said, disinterested, frowning. “I think I'll refrain from asking for contraband this time…”

“Are you sure you're okay?” Donna asked, with a more distrustful look. Naturally, it was impossible for her to forget her “failure” that easily. She was probably still worried about it.

A few loose words began to repeat themselves over and over in your mind…

Solution, Duke, contraband…

“Yes, yes,” you said, outside the dining room, outside that conversation, trying to connect the dots of the encrypted messages that your subconscious was sending. “I don't like giving you problems.”

“Schiocchezze… You know you are safe with me. You can do whatever you want,” she murmured, proud that her position as a Lord gave you possibilities unthinkable for any other villager. “Don't you want another game for that weird machine?”

“That weird machine, Donna, is called Game Boy, and it’s very funny, you should try it,” you joked, still focused on your thoughts.

“No, grazie, I prefer to enjoy the tranquility of a book, or my dolls. I don't think that thing is good for you…” she murmured amused, worried that weird machine, as she said, would steal your attention from her.

You thought it was adorable, even a machine could make her jealous.

“Tell that to the Duke,” you said amused, with the words becoming clearer in your mind. “If he didn't sell it…”

“What he doesn't sell?” Donna joked, causing a gust of cold air to hit your face, a revelation to illuminate the sentence that was floating around in your head.

The Duke might have a solution.

Yes, it seemed unlikely, and there was certainly no other way to get what you wanted naturally. A little help, maybe some herbs, a special tea, or something… Aphrodisiac, could push your body to feel that desire again, to not disappoint the lady in black, and, above all, to not make her think she had disappointed you.

For now, that was your only option.

The next day, the merchant appeared at the estate.

“I’m coming, darling,” you whispered to Donna while you read next to her, preventing her from getting up to attend to the merchant. No, she couldn't find out.

“Mm,” Donna murmured, returning her gaze to that boring book of plants.

You walked towards the door, mentally rehearsing the most discreet way to ask for what you needed.

“Miss (Y/N)… I'm glad to see that you're still in perfect condition… Or almost,” the merchant commented, with a sinister smile.

“What? What do you mean by almost?” you asked, closing the door behind you and going down the stairs, looking at yourself in case there was something strange.

“You don't look well…” he said, pointing at your face. “Aren't you sleeping well lately?”

You groaned, crossing your arms impatiently.

“What do you care?” you said with an annoyed tone, going over to grab the bags that were there for you, checking their contents. You were quite nervous, you weren't even sure if asking that extravagant man for help was a good idea.

“I care about the well-being of special clients like you, (Y/N), I wouldn't like the ghosts of my past to come and torment me,” he commented, catching the bag of coins you threw at him, pointing with his gaze at the Beneviento mansion.

“Ghosts from your past?” you asked amused, taking the objects out of the bags, examining the quality of the vegetables. “Do you have a past?”

“Oh, of course…” he whispered, counting coins.

“Ha, I doubt it,” you whispered, arching your eyebrows. “You are like any of those trees, you have always been here.”

“What does the word always mean to you?” he asked with a sinister voice.

You sighed, rolling your eyes.

“Oh, no, I don't have time for philosophical conversations,” you said with a tired voice, putting your hands on your temples.

“Don't you have time?” he asked amused, putting the coins in his carriage. “In that case… I'll leave…”

You opened your eyes wide, deciding at the last moment whether to ask that vermin for help or not.

“Wait, wait,” you said in a discreet voice, checking that there were no Donnas, or sinister dolls behind the half-open door.

The Duke stopped his act of leaving, turning slowly with a curious look.

“What do you need?” he asked in an equally discreet, almost mocking tone, imitating you. You made a gesture with your hands for him to lower his voice, getting closer to the carriage.

“Shh, don't speak loud,” you protested angrily, looking everywhere, except at those greedy eyes. “I need to ask you for something.”

“Go ahead, (Y/N), if I have it, it's yours,” he said studying your confused look.

“Hey, lower your voice…” you said nervously, playing with your hands, which were starting to sweat. “It's something… Complicated.”

“There's nothing complicated in business, Miss,” he said, laughing amused. “You ask, I'll sell it to you.”

“Okay, cut the crap,” you said with an impatient gesture. “It's not a common request, besides, I don't even know why I'm asking you.”

“I'm afraid divination isn't among my skills… You'll have to be more specific,” the man sighed, also starting to get impatient.

“Ugh,” you groaned, your cheeks red from embarrassment. “Okay. You sell all kinds of medicinal teas, right?”

“See how you didn't look good?” the merchant asked, satisfied by your question, picking up a small box full of bags and jars. “Tell me what symptoms you have… Maybe a cold? Fever? Upset stomach?”

“No, no,” you shook your head, making him shut up and stop moving that box, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Migraines?” he asked curiously, as if he suspected something. “Nausea?”

“No, damn it,” you hissed nervously, looking all the time at the crack in the door.

“Oh, okay… Maybe this is what you’re looking for…” the Duke murmured, taking out another object and throwing it at you in an unpleasant manner.

“What? A pregnancy test? Really?” you asked annoyed, feeling a shiver with that object in your hand. “No, it's not that. I hope so…”

“Be more specific, I beg you,” the Duke whispered, with that same amused tone.

“Okay, okay,” you said, running a hand over your forehead. “Aphrodisiac, I need an aphrodisiac, have I been specific enough?”

“Oh…” he hummed amused, going back to that small box and rummaging through the bottles. “Why didn't you say it before?”

“Because I know what you’re thinking,” you murmured, crossing your arms again, looking away.

“Is it for you?” he asked, taking out two bottles from the box.

“What do you care?” you whispered embarrassed.

“I don't care, Miss (Y/N), but if it's not for you... Well, I have more specific remedies...” he commented amused, shaking one of the bottles. “Does Lady Beneviento have erection problems?”

“Oh, Gods, no!” you said abruptly, with your face completely red. “Why does everyone know that Donna...?”

The man shrugged, laughing amused.

“It's a small village, Miss,” he said, unable to stop laughing. “Well?”

“No, it's not for Donna, she's... Well, too well, in fact...” you explained, tired of that conversation. “Very well, do you understand?”

“Oh, so the problem is yours...” he commented, taking out another bottle.

“Shut up and give me that, oh, and don't say a word of this or I'll cut your balls off, got it?” you threatened, snatching the bottle from his hand.

“Oh, how rude,” he sighed amused, coughing in agony. “But you know that silence...”

“Yeah, yeah, it has a price,” you said furiously, squeezing the bottle tightly in your hands and throwing him another bag of coins. Donna had so much money that she would never notice. “Will this be enough to shut you up?”

“Of course... It's a pleasure doing business with you...” he sighed, putting the bag away in a satisfactory manner. “Oh, a piece of warning...”

“Fine, okay, speak,” you said, focused on the clear liquid that didn't inspire any confidence in you.

“Put just a few drops if you don't want to... Get into trouble...” the Duke commented, something you barely paid attention to.

When you realized it, the merchant had disappeared, but the blush on your cheeks was still present on your face.

“Damn it, you stupid gossip…” you whispered, picking up the bags, putting the bottle away, and entering the mansion again.

“Tesoro…” Donna said, approaching the entrance. “Why took you so long?”

You faked one of your best smiles, along with a tired sigh.

“Ugh, he felt like negotiating today…” you lied, carrying the bags.

“Did he bother you?” the lady asked, worried, putting a hand on your shoulder, with a dangerous look. You shook your head, stealing a reassuring kiss from her lips.

“No, my love…” you whispered tenderly. “Why don't you keep reading? I'll take care of this.”

“Do you need help?” Donna asked kindly, pinching your nose playfully. You shook your head again.

“No, no… Um… Would you like to have some tea?” you asked, finding in that infusion the perfect cover for your plans.

“Some tea?” she asked, nodding with a pleasant, grateful smile. “Of course, tesoro.”

“No,” you said playfully, kissing her again before walking towards the elevator. “Thank you, Donna…”

When you finally finished putting everything away, you sighed, looking around and discreetly taking the bottle out of your pocket while you boiled water.

“Just a few drops…” you repeated the Duke's words unsurely, uncapping the bottle and smelling it distrustfully. It had a sweet and appealing aroma… It didn't seem dangerous.

You finished pouring the tea, looking at the two cups after a nervous sigh. Little by little, you picked up the jar from the counter, tilting it slightly over one of the cups.

“Idiota!” An irritating squeal made you jump in place, accidentally spilling more than half of the contents into your cup. Of course, Angie's absence couldn't last long.

“Shit… Angie!” you shouted furiously, looking at the puppet, who laughed amused by her victory, for bringing you to the brink of a heart attack. “How… How did you get here?”

“How did I get here? By elevator, you idiot, how else?” the puppet said, climbing onto the counter. “What are you doing?”

“Making some tea,” you hissed, hiding the jar back in your pocket. Luckily, she didn't seem to have noticed. “Are you trying to scare me to death?”

“No, no,” she said amused, exaggerating. “I just like to see your terrified eyes…”

“That's nice,” you said ironically, putting the cups on a tray. “You know that Donna doesn't like it.”

“But Donna isn't here,” the doll answered, leaning in an impossible way. “Foolish villager… Coward…” she sang mockingly.

You ignored her, rolling your eyes and picking up the tray, trying not to look away from the contaminated cup, taking out the half-empty bottle again as you went up the elevator.

“I guess nothing will happen…” you murmured, putting the bottle away again, and walking back to the brunette, who continued reading peacefully. “Your tea, Lady Beneviento,” you said amused, leaving the tray on the table.

She laughed amusedly, caressing your cheek in gratitude, granting your eyes the privilege of seeing her tender smile.

“Grazie…”she sighed, reaching out her hand to grab the wrong cup, something you prevented by grabbing her wrist.

“Oh, no, no, that's mine,” you said nervously, grabbing the cup roughly. “It's just that…” you murmured when you saw her confused face. “It has too much sugar.”

“Mm,” she whispered, nodding slightly, grabbing the other cup. “Don't eat so much sugar, tesoro… It will ruin your smile.”

“Do you know what will ruin my smile? Not seeing you wake up next to me every day,” you said romantically, causing her lips to launch themselves against yours.

“Che romantica sei…” she whispered in a sensual voice, seductive as always. You laughed, moving away to sit on the couch, bringing the cup to your lips. “You drive me crazy, (Y/N)…”

“I was born this way,” you joked, winking at her and drinking more and more from your cup.

The taste was sweet, like a fruit cake. The burning aromas of the tea mixed with that strange product. Well, at least the taste was good.

Time passed in silence. You and Donna exchanged glances from time to time, like every afternoon, while each one enjoyed her own reading. It was a pleasant moment, but you started to get nervous.

That strange liquid seemed to have no effect, and, anxious, you drank the rest of the contents of the cup with a strange gesture.

You sighed once, twice, you didn't feel anything. Nothing seemed to have changed. Nothing until you got more comfortable, until you put your legs up on the sofa. It was a strange sensation, a sensation multiplied by 10, that sensation of your own skin touching you.

You frowned at that sudden, unexpected pleasure, the pleasure of feeling something, your own leg rubbing against the other, sending a shiver down your spine. The heat that seemed to have left that room began to enter your body. Your breathing became labored and, with your hands, you rubbed your thighs.

You knew that the heat, that those sensations were not natural, you knew that the intensity of your caresses increased on their own, that your body was asking for that touch, that something was happening to you. You shouldn't have mistrusted that fat swindler. It seemed that the aphrodisiac was beginning to take effect.

Automatically, you looked at the lady in black and she returned your gaze, one that penetrated your chest like a flame, which increased the already existing trembling in your increasingly hot body.

Your hand went alone between your legs, feeling a moisture that was forming in that place, one that could only be explained by Donna's beauty, by having her perfect body so close to yours.

The need to increase the subtle touch of your hands became unbearable. Almost without wanting to, your caresses became much more lustful, much more, until, feeling your fingers brushing your covered clit and your mouth spoke for itself making you emit a strange moan.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” Donna asked, looking at you, looking at that hot mess in front of her. Your mouth smiled, your eyes became dangerous as you nodded.

“Better than okay, Donna,” you purred, increasing the intensity of your own caresses, with your mind blocked, imagining Donna inside of you, imagining that they were not your hands, but hers.

She smiled confusedly, closing her book and getting up from the couch, her gaze fixed on your playful hand.

“What are you doing?” she asked, sitting down next to you, caressing your leg curiously. “Are you…?”

“Do you want to watch or are you going to join, darling?” you asked in a velvety voice, moving to open your legs in front of her as your lustful touch grew ever more intense.

“Join?” Donna asked, with a nervous smile, joining her hands to your trembling legs, gasping as she watched your entire body writhe at her timid, exploratory touch.

“Mm,” you moaned, grabbing her hand, bringing it to your mouth. Your body was no longer yours, you were no longer its owner, that aphrodisiac had taken control and you… liked it.

Slowly, with your mouth burning, you put her fingers in your mouth, savoring the sweetness of her skin, the sensation of a part of her body being devoured by the heat of your tongue.

“(Y/N)…” Donna sighed, amazed by the eroticism of that movement, of the soft suction of your mouth on her fingers, making her travel to the darkest thoughts of her mind, perhaps imagining that it was not her fingers.

“Are you going to just stand there watching?” you asked defiantly, leaning towards her, putting your legs on either side of her hips as you laid her down on the couch.

Your hot body moved over hers as your mouth changed targets, devouring her lips mercilessly as your hips danced over hers, moaning at the subtle brush of your wetness against the bulge that had already formed in the black fabric of her dress.

“Mm,” you moaned again, with a dangerous look, devouring every inch of her skin, her lips, her neck. Your body needed her, it claimed hers with an anxiety you didn't remember having, much greater than that of your first time.

“Cosa c’è, (Y/N)?” the lady asked, unable to stop your kisses from getting wilder, your hands from traveling down her dress, undoing her buttons, groping her breasts and finally, going down to free her imprisoned erection. “You're so…”

“I'm crazy about you, Donna,” you whispered, massaging her shaft slowly while, with the other hand, you struggled to take off your underwear so your eager body could get closer to her desire. “I want to fuck you.”

“Hey, no… No… Don't be that…” she protested, silenced by another furious, wet kiss, which you used to distract her from the movements of your hips, which were positioned on the tip, slowly going down. “Oh, amore mio!” she exclaimed when she saw herself surrounded by your copious moisture, surprised by the ease with which she moved inside of you.

“Donna!” you moaned, moving erratically, with her completely inside of you, with your body sending intense, almost unbearable signals of pleasure. “Gods!”

With a sinister growl, your hips began to move, with your hands on her chest, being the complete owner of the movements of that improvised act of passion, wanting to be the only owner, feeling selfish, desperate for that exaggerated pleasure not to disappear.

The moans were not calm, slow, romantic, no… They were wild, intense, indiscreet. Your body moved furiously on hers, her erection dancing on your tight, sensitive walls, while Donna, closing her eye, tried to withstand the intense embrace of your body.

“Yes!” you screamed, tilting your head when, after a few movements, the sensation of your release devastated all your senses. Your body shook abruptly, your muscles tensed without difficulty, but… Still, you didn't think it was the end.

The desire in your body didn't relax, not even when poor Donna, trapped between your legs, unable to move under your hips, also released amidst your exaggerated cries of pleasure.

Your movements decreased in intensity, but your gaze was still dangerous. You were stimulating your wetness yourself, even with the brunette inside you. You didn't want that sensation to leave you, it was your priority.

“(Y/N)… W-Wait a moment,” the doll maker stammered, breathing heavily, putting her hands on your hips to control your erratic movements, eager to obtain more and more pleasure.

“No,” you said abruptly, biting your lip, without stopping moving, controlling your wet and hot dances, the mixture of your release and hers going down your leg. “I don’t want to, keep gping, Donna, please…”

“Um… I…” she murmured, shaking her head, but unable to protest your insatiable desire. Her shaft hardened again thanks to your insistence, something that made you moan in pleasure, returning that anxious madness to your hips.

“You're so big, Donna… Do you see how my body wants you? How tight I am?” you whispered in a dangerous, almost disturbing voice, biting her earlobe. “How big you become for me…”

“Yes… Sì…” she stammered, nodding, controlling her moans, moving her body again to slide further inside you so her shaft covered by her own seed was pleased by the embraces of your walls.

“Keep going, keep going! I'm going to…!” you screamed, moving roughly, finding it difficult to satisfy your body's desire, releasing again, and again, and again…

“Gods… (Y/N)…” Donna said, caressing your hot cheek, moaning when she filled you again without intending to, completely surrendered to your excessive passion. “Tesoro…”

“Donna…” you whispered, with a tender voice, catching your breath, feeling you had finally release, that the effect of that aphrodisiac had worn off. Nothing could be further from the truth.

“You are very… Fiery…” she commented amused, getting out of your and resting your head on her chest. “You… You have left me exhausted…”

“Mm,” you said, laughing tenderly, twisting around in her body, opening your eyes horrified by what you felt.

No, your body hadn't gotten tired. Your body wanted more, much more. You tried to ignore that feeling, probably caused by the excess of liquid you poured into the tea. You thought that would pass sooner or later.

“Shall we take a shower, (Y/N)?” Donna asked, playing with your hair, also trying to catch her breath.

Yes, a shower seemed like a good idea.

Spoiler: It wasn't.

The hot water stimulated your desire even more. The sight of her perfect naked body clouded your reasoning, your logical thinking. The wetness of your legs mixed with the water, the heat of the water seeming to cool down in contact with your body… You wanted more, you needed more.

With a mischievous laugh, you hugged the brunette from behind. It might have seemed like an innocent hug, but it wasn't. Your hand traveled over her bare skin, caressing her belly, running your fingers over her breasts while your lips subtly attacked her neck.

Donna didn't protest until those caresses went lower, until they reached her already exhausted penis, caressing it gently, hugging it with your hand under the hot water.

“Tesoro... What are you...?” she whispered, surprised by your unusual insistence, by that ability of your hand slowly stimulating her body, preparing it again for you. “W-Wait, wait...”

“Shhh,” you whined sharply, not stopping moving your hand, not stopping playing with it, causing her body to betray her, to make one last effort to please you.

The tiredness was evident, but, even so, her body reacted again, hardening in a softer way but it was more than enough for your inexhaustible desire.

With a nervous gasp, you turned the doll maker around, hanging from her neck, devouring her with kisses again while your hips moved anxiously on her timid erection.

Donna could protest, but she didn't. With a tired moan, she lifted one of your legs, passing it around her waist, taking you again under the shower, standing, roughly and clumsily, but enough for the pleasure to overwhelm you again. Your satisfied body released itself several times, but it didn't seem to be satiated.

Donna did her best, timidly releasing herself inside of you again. She must have been exhausted, in fact, you were surprised that she was still able to please you.

Unfortunately, the Duke's warning crossed your mind. Just a few drops. You did it wrong and that was your doom. The burning in your body didn't go away.

But Donna couldn't take it anymore, she wasn't able to please you, she even started looking at you with some fear when she came out of the shower, noticing that the lust didn't disappear from your gaze.

As if she wanted to run away from you, she disappeared from the bathroom, just when you indiscreetly knelt in front of her, ready to enjoy another round of exhausting passion.

“Hey! Come here!” you shouted at the brunette's sudden escape, pointing at the floor and kicking it furiously. “Donna! Bring your little big thing here, now!”

“N-No...” You heard murmuring in the basement.

You groaned. It wasn't really you. That horrible liquid was running through your veins, speaking for you. Without even bothering to cover yourself with a towel, you left the bathroom to chase her.

“What are you doing running around naked?!” Angie protested, covering her eyes when you passed by her. “You're going to cause me a trauma!”

You ignored the doll and followed the wet footprints of her footsteps to the bedroom.

“Donna...” you hummed, sensually sticking your leg out the door. “Come on, get out...”

“No,” you heard someone say inside the room, where the brunette was taking refuge, covering herself with both hands between her legs. “D-don't come closer, (Y/N)...”

“Hey, come on, will you stop fooling around and come here?” you said, letting yourself fall on the bed, opening your legs again. “I need you, Donna…”

“No, no, I… What's wrong with you?” she said, shaking her head, trying not to look directly at you.

“I'm playful…” you hummed again, running a hand through that constant moisture. “Come on, come… Just a little…”

“Just a little? (Y/N), I can't take it anymore,” Donna said, with a painful grimace, with her hands still covering her shame. “I can't, I couldn't even if I wanted to…”

“Don't be that weak, I know you can,” you said, frowning.

“Weak? Don't you understand? No… I can't… I'm, I'm… Empty,” she whispered embarrassed, covering herself with a robe. “Let me rest, per-per favore…”

“Of course, of course, you can ask for a break, right?” you said angrily, sitting on the bed and crossing your arms.

Poor Donna blinked confused, nervous.

“I don't know what you're talking about, tesoro…”

“What, what am I talking about? Donna, you are… You are insatiable, do you know what it is to have… That, pointing at me all day long?” you said, pointing between her legs. She looked at herself and then at you, with the same surprised look.

“But, but…” she stammered, moving nervously.

“Donna, I'm a human being, do you understand? I need some rest,” you said seriously, fighting against the heat of your body, talking nonsense, reproaching those things that you should have talked to her about a long time ago.

“I, I understand, amore mio but… What is this about? You are, you are the one who…”

“Oh, yes it’s me… Do you know why? Because I don't dare tell you to keep your cock in your dress for at least one day, just one day, Donna, is that too much to ask?”

“If I remember correctly, you were the one who insisted on making love,” the lady in black hissed, with a darker look, annoyed by your vulgar language. “Does it make you upset now?”

“Do you think I’m upset?” you asked back, looking away arrogantly. “Do you know why I'm like this?”

“No…” she sighed, approaching cautiously, placing a hand on your forehead. “Mamma mia… You're burning.”

“Yes… I… Oh, I'm stupid, this is because of that damn aphrodisiac,” you lamented, venting your frustration on the sheets.

“If you don't want me to love you so many times… You just had to tell me,” Donna whispered, sitting next to you.

“I know but… Donna, I know you, I know you'd take it wrongly…” you said, just as she moved nervously, getting up from the bed.

“Wait, did you say aphrodisiac? What aphrodisiac?” Donna asked confused, with a furious look.

You didn't answer. You simply got up and ran to the bathroom, to search your dress for the remains of that cursed liquid, letting her see it.

“Wow...” Donna whispered, observing the cause of your constant burning. “I think you've put too much…”

“Don't tell me...” you said, with irony. “Now I can't stop... I'm... Oh...”

“Tesoro... Don't do these things for me... I prefer you to be honest with me, please... Don't lie to me anymore...” she said in a soft voice, taking your hands and caressing your cheeks.

You nodded, kissing her lips, repressing the pleasure that simple contact gave you.

“What do I do now?” you asked, sighing nervously.

Donna shrugged, comforting you with her caresses.

“I'm sorry, tesoro... I didn't think I was so... insistent... I really enjoy loving you, you know?” she said. “Tell me what I can do to help you,” she offered, making your smile grow wider

You opened your eyes wide, snatching the bottle from her.

“Don't apologize,” you said. “If you want me to forgive you, do me a favor and... Drink it, let's see if you come back to life...”

“But, but...”

“Donna, do it.”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #oneshot #requests

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