#shut up tash

[lattesparkles]

STOP. GIVING. CHARACTERS. SIDE-PARTED BANGS. IN. PERIOD. FILMS. STOP IT.

[archduke-enver-gortash]

saw an absolutely rancid take and i’m trying so hard to be normal

[sapphire-writes]

Beyond The Play

college!Art x college!Reader

summary: Tashi needs some time alone with her man, which leaves you without a room for the night.

word count: 3.8k

rating: mature/explicit/18+

warnings: alcohol, fingering, dry humping, p in v sex with a condom, light praise, titty sucking, there's only one bed oh no!!

a/n: thanks for all the love on my first Challengers fic! hope you enjoy this one!

“You are so fucked,” Art says, taking another sip of his beer.

“Shut up.”

“He’s right,” Tashi agrees, sighing heavily, glancing at her cards.

You’re all sitting on the floor of your and Tashi’s dorm room, half-empty beer bottles littering the floor between you. You’d been playing poker for the past hour or so, swindling more of Patrick and Art’s money. It’d become a Friday night habit of yours, card games and beer with Patrick and Art. Patrick was always a maybe, he only came to visit his girlfriend a couple times a semester. 

But you, Art, and Tashi were always a solid trio. Tashi and Art had met through tennis of course, and you had met Art through Tashi after rooming with her freshman year of college. You’d become fast friends, and roommates for the next several years. You got along with Patrick well enough, you had to once he and Tashi started dating.

You could tell that had been a sore spot for Art, at least for a while. You’d suspected he’d had a thing for Tashi, and fire and ice hadn’t been the same since. You’d once asked Tashi about it and she’d only shrugged. Even though she was with Patrick for now, you knew Tashi had only one true love. 

Whatever Art felt for Tashi was easily molded into friendship, and the three of you became nearly inseparable. Which was good, even if you may or may not have developed some feelings of your own for the blond tennis player. 

But your friendship was more important. Those feelings could be pushed aside.

“God damn it,” Patrick curses, “I fold.”

Tashi snickers, revealing her cards and Patrick swears once more. 

“I need a smoke,” Patrick says, standing and leaning across Tashi’s bed to the open window.

“Oh no you don’t,” Tashi says, standing at lightning speed, “Outside, we are not getting in trouble for this.”

She grabs Patrick by the shirt collar, dragging him off the bed. He dramatically chokes, but lets her drag him towards the door.

“Art come on,” Patrick insists, reaching for his best friend.

“What? No, I wanna stay,” Art says, sandy hair falling in front of his eyes, “You don’t need a babysitter—”

“Yes I do,” Patrick insists, “C’mon five minutes, I swear.”

The boys tumble into the hall and you can hear their voices fading as they make their way outside. You stand from the floor, gathering up some beer bottles, and folding up the empty pizza box.

“Hey, d’you think you could sleep somewhere else tonight?” Tashi asks, brown eyes wide, “It’s Patrick’s last night, and y’know we really haven’t had any alone time.”

Your chest constricts at the thought. You totally get where she’s coming from but, it’s your room too. The thought of sleeping in the common area is less enticing. 

“Or at least just for a couple of hours,” Tashi backtracks, seeing your expression, “Just so we can—”

“Yeah, Tash it’s fine,” you tell her, swallowing your annoyance. Tashi’s been nothing but thoughtful and kind as a roommate, and friend. It’s an inconvenient favor, but nothing crazy. “I’ll get out of your hair for a couple of hours.”

“You’re the best,” she says, kissing your cheek, “Seriously, I owe you one.”

“You sure do,” you tell her, “I expect full payment for this.”

“Do you mean a trip to the movies with slurpees and popcorn?” Tashi asks, raising her eyebrows. 

“With extra butter,” you clarify and point at her, “You’re not cheaping out on me.”

“I’d never,” she insists, feigning seriousness before breaking into a grin. 

You finish helping Tashi clean up and begin your excommunication from your room. Walking down the hallway you bump into Patrick and Art on their way back from Patrick’s smoke break.

“What’re you doing out here? You start smoking?” Art asks as Patrick keeps walking past you, picking up the pace, “Hey where…”

“Party’s over,” you tell him, as Patrick turns the corner, eager to return to Tashi now that she’s alone.

Art frowns, confused.

“But we were—”

“Art,” you cut him off and place your hands on his shoulders, shaking him slightly, “Party’s over. Unless you’re eager to be a third.”

Art’s cheeks flush and he glances away, forcing out a laugh. Something tugs at your heart watching his half-smile appear. 

“Uh yeah ... .no thanks,” he says and you pat his shoulders before releasing them, “Wait but where are you going to go?”

You shrug, “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“You can’t just wander around campus, it’s like 2 am,” Art says, beckoning you with his hand, “Come back to my room, at least till they’re done.”

“Really?” you ask, “Cause if you’re tired I can just—”

“Don’t be silly,” Art says, poking your shoulder, “C’mon.”

Art’s room is in a separate building on campus, about a five-minute walk from you and Tashi’s building. Art is lucky enough to have a single; you’d been there a handful of times before class or practice. He keeps his room neat, aside from some clothes scattered on the floor from quick changes before practice. You smile as he hurriedly picks them up, throwing them into a hamper in his closet.

His bed is unmade, navy sheets messy as though he’d just woken up. 

“Sorry bout the mess,” he says, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

“I’m not judging, you’re cleaner than most guys I’ve met,” you tell him and he laughs. 

Suddenly, it hits you how late it is, sleepiness hitting you like a train as you yawn. This triggers Art’s yawn and the pair of you stand awkwardly in front of each other. 

“Um,” Art says suddenly, “It’s late.”

“Yeah,” you agree, stomach sinking, “I can just—”

“You should stay.”

You’re silent at that. You stare at him, as he nervously plays with the hem of his t-shirt, waiting for your reaction. You’re not sure what to say. It’s fine, right? Just a friend, helping out another friend.

A friend whom you have a big fat annoying crush on.

“I mean….it’s just late and you’re tired and who knows when they’ll be done.”

“I don’t have anything with me,” you tell him, voice sounding softer, meeker than you’d like.

“Oh, here I got you,” he says, walking to his dresser. He shuffles through the drawer a moment before revealing a shirt and clean boxers, “Just did laundry today. You can….you can change in the bathroom. I even have an extra toothbrush.”

You roll your eyes at that, taking the clothes from him. 

“Okay,” you agree.

“Bathroom’s right there.”

You nod, quickly making your way across the room and into the bathroom. You close the door and quickly change, finding Art’s spare toothbrush unopened in a goodie bag from the dentist shoved into a spare drawer. You quickly wash your face, brush your teeth, and change into his clothes. The shirt is baggy, with Stanford Men’s Tennis written across the front. It smells like him, like his detergent and his cologne and you can’t help but greedily inhale.

When you exit the bathroom, Art dips in, leaving the door open as he brushes his teeth. You place your clothes in a pile on his desk, awkwardly waiting for him. When he emerges, he’s wearing only his boxers and a gray t-shirt.

“I’ll take the floor,” Art says, his face turning beet red, “You can have the bed.”

“Art no,” you insist, “It’s your room. I’ll take the floor, it’s only fair—”

“Yeah that is not happening,” he says, satisfied smirk on his face, “Tashi’d kill me if she found out I made you sleep on the floor.”

“We could…..” you wet your lips, struggling to get the words out, “We could share the bed?”

Art watches you, his eyes wide. You watch his Adam’s apple bobs as he contemplates your question. Suddenly your pulse quickens, and embarrassment floods your body, and your face flushes. You turn away from him, scooting onto the bed.

“I mean only—”

“—if you’re comfortable,” Art finishes and you shut your mouth. You both giggle at the overlapping sentences.

“Yeah, I’m comfortable, Art,” you tell him, patting the space beside you, “Come on.”

Art moves onto the bed and you push closer to the wall. He’s so close when he lies down beside you, stretching his arm above your head. You’ve grown accustomed to the moonlit room and at this distance, you can almost count each eyelash that frames his blue eyes. 

“Is this okay?” he whispers, minty breath wafting over your face, making your head spin.

“Mhmm,” is all you can manage as the heat of his body warms you under the covers.

He’s silent then and you lay there for a moment, watching each other, listening to your shared breathing. Art chuckles then.

“What?”

“It’s just…” he trails off, “Nothing, it’s silly.”

“What is it?”

“You’re the first girl I’ve shared a bed with,” he admits, shyly glancing away from your gaze.

“Art Donaldson,” your tone is teasing, “I find that rather hard to believe.”

“It’s true,” he insists, brows furrowing together, “I mean….I’m not saying—wait” he wets his lips nervously, “I’m not a virgin—”

Your eyebrows raise, a smile curling at the corner of your lips. No, you did not doubt that. 

“Not that anything’s wrong with that, I just—wait and not to imply—”

“Art!” you cut him off, reaching forward and pressing your fingers against his lips, “I’m kidding. Don’t freak out.”

“M’not,” he mumbles, lips moving against your fingers.

“I’m fucking with you, Donaldson,” you whisper, taking your hand back, “I know you’re a gentleman.”

“Thank Christ,” he says with an exaggerated exhale causing you to giggle once more. He watches you, a smile on his face, eyes flickering to your lips.

Your face heats up as he wets his lips. Suddenly, nervousness flutters in your belly, and your heart flutters in your chest.

“Goodnight,” you tell him, turning away from him to face the wall.

You wait for his response, hoping he’s not disappointed. Disappointed about what, you’re not sure. 

“Goodnight,” he says softly and you close your eyes.

You wake up early. Birds are chirping outside the window, golden sunlight is beginning to bleed into the room, and Art’s chest is smushed firmly against your back. His arm is curled around your middle, hand splayed under your shirt and on your tummy, face buried in the crook of your neck. He’s so warm, his presence so comforting, you just want to close your eyes and melt back into him. 

Art groans in his sleep, moving his hips slightly and your eyes snap open.

Oh, Art.

He’s pressed firmly against your backside, rock-hard, hips unconsciously grinding against you. Your mouth falls open slightly feeling him against you, the hard outline of his cock bullying against your ass. Art groans again, hand on your stomach pushing you closer to him.

A breathy sigh escapes you and your head falls back against him slightly. 

“Art,” you breathe, answered with another groan, this one edging on a whimper. His hips gyrate, cock pressing against you with need, “Oh God…”

You swallow, breathing becoming more shallow. Your pussy clenches, and you can feel the growing wetness in the boxers Art had lent you, thighs pressing together desperate to relieve some of the pressure.

“Art wake up!” 

Art wakes with a start, head pulled from your shoulder. You can’t see him, but you feel him tense, the warmth of his body ripped from yours as he lurches backward, right off the edge of the bed. He falls with a yelp, hitting the floor with a loud thud. You sit up turning toward him. 

“Fuck!” he says, scrambling to sit and hide his erection, “Shit, I’m so sorry!” His face is red and he grabs a pillow, placing it over his lap, “God–fuck, I’m so sorry I was asleep—” He keeps stuttering, unable to meet your eyes. 

“Art.”

“It’s just biological you know, just morning wood, I would never do anything without your explicit consent–enthusiastic consent!”

“Art…”

“And I would never want to ruin anything between us, ever–”

“Art!”

His head snaps toward you then, eyes meeting yours. His mouth hangs open, eyes watery as he looks up at you. He looks so sad, so embarrassed, and disappointed. And something else as well. Worried, perhaps. 

“Get back up here,” you tell him.

Art’s mouth remains open in shock as he glances at the bed.

“Now?”

“Yes, right now.”

Art scrambles to rejoin you on the bed, lying beside you. He faces you just as he did last night, sandy hair falling across his forehead. You smile softly at his disheveled appearance and his flushed cheeks.

“I’m sorry—”

“Stop talking,” you tell him, reaching forward and brushing some hair from his face. You let your hand trail around to the nape of his neck, fingers curling in his hair. “You have my consent.”

Art’s eyes widen, lips parting in shock.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” you tell him, pulling yourself closer. His hand drifts to your hip, anchoring himself to it. “Explicit, enthusiastic, all yours.”

The last word has barely left your lips before he’s leaning forward, pressing his lips against your own. They’re warm and soft, he kisses you with innocent eagerness, the hand on your hip pulling you flush against him. You lift your leg, hitching it around his thigh, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging slightly, earning a moan against your mouth.

“Fuck,” he moans against your lips, “You don’t know how long I’ve thought about this.”

Something deep inside your belly warms at his admission. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” he answers, kissing you again, “Since freshman year.”

“Why didn’t you…..oh fuck..” your question trails off as Art mouths your neck, sucking and biting the tender skin.

“Didn’t want to ruin anything,” he mumbles, kissing your collarbone. 

You hum at his answer, tilting your head to give him better access. His hand moves from your hip bone, up under your shirt—his shirt. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, mouth returning to your lips.

“Yes,” you tell him, “Please touch me.”

You can feel his smile against your lips as he does what you ask, fingers grazing the underside of your breast. Pushing against him, his hand cups your breast, squeezing lightly. You pull away from his lips briefly, tugging your shirt over your head and tossing it to the end of the bed. Art’s eyes devour you and he kisses you desperately as he continues to play with your tits. 

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing down your neck until he reaches the top of your chest. 

Art’s lips move across the tops of your breasts, as though he’s struggling with choosing which one to lavish with attention. Luckily for you, he decides rather quickly and latches his mouth to your right nipple, thumb, and forefinger, tweaking the opposite. Your back arches as he gently bites down, sucking the hardened peak harshly before releasing it with a pop. 

“Art.”

He simply moans, ignoring your cries as he brings his mouth to your opposite nipple, repeating his previous action. Pleasure winds a current in your lower belly, your thighs clench as he repeats his little torture, alternating back and forth between your breasts. You grab his hair, tugging him not too gently until he glances up at you, cheeks red, lips glossy and puckered. 

He’s too pretty.

You pull him back to your lips, kissing him feverishly while trying to rid yourself of the clothing you have left. Art feels you squirming and assists, hands moving the boxers down your legs until you’re able to kick them off at your ankles. Your hands move to him next, eager to even the playing field. 

You tear his shirt over his head revealing his toned stomach from countless hours on the court. Your mouth waters at the sight before Art is on you once more, lips capturing yours in another heated kiss. His hand returns to your hip, curling against it before he reaches further, squeezing your ass.

You smile against his mouth as he squeezes again. 

“You’re just fucking perfect, aren’t you?” he murmurs, returning your smile.

His hand grazes down the back of your thigh before venturing to the front where your legs meet. Your breathing becomes more labored the closer he gets to your hot center. 

“Can I?” he asks, so softly, you nearly drown out his question with your heavy breath.

“Yes,” you tell him, and that’s all he needs. 

Art slides a curious finger between your wet folds, gently circling your clit. Your mouth falls open as he continues.

“You’re so wet,” he remarks, dipping his finger lower, and finding your entrance. 

He lets his middle finger sink into you, met with little resistance. Your walls greedily accept him as he curls his finger upwards, beginning to pump it in and out. Stars explode behind your eyes and you moan, clutching onto his shoulder.

Art smirks, eyes aglow at the pleasured noises you emit.

“That feel good?”

“Yes—fuck,” you squeak as he presses another finger inside of you, “Oh god.”

“Yeah?” 

Art crooks his fingers against your velvety walls, pressing against that special spot inside of you that has your head lolling against him, moans spilling from your lips. His thumb joins, caressing your sensitive clit in time with the strokes of his fingers. 

“Feels so good,” you moan, “I’m so close.”

“Yeah? You're gonna come for me?” he asks, kissing your neck. Your fingers tangle themselves in his blonde hair, tugging harshly, your orgasm building deep in your belly, “Come on baby, come on my fingers, I wanna feel this pretty pussy come.”

His words send you over the edge and your pussy clenches around his digits as you come, thighs shaking from the intensity as warmth floods through you.

“That was so hot,” Art says, kissing you, still buried to the knuckles inside you, “You’re so hot. Let me fuck you, please.”

You hum against his lips as he carefully removes his fingers from your warmth. He pulls away, bringing his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean. You watch him awestruck as he moans, eyes closing at the taste of you.

“Get inside me,” you tell him, “Right now.”

Art doesn’t need to be told twice, sitting up and pulling his boxers off as you lay on your back. Your eyes drift down his stomach to his cock. It’s pretty, just like the rest of him. Long, girthy, a neat tuft of dark sandy colored hair at the base. The tip flushed red and weeping as he strokes himself. 

“Condom?” you ask, and he nods, walking to his desk and rummaging through the first drawer. 

He comes up successful, ripping the wrapper with his teeth and rolling the condom on his length before crawling on top of you. You spread your legs for him as he lines himself up, rubbing the tip along your soaked slit. 

“Art, please put it in,” you whine, hips lifting.

“Jesus, I’m not gonna last long if you keep that up,” he says, shaking his head.

Your responding giggle is short-lived as he slowly sinks inside of you, filling you to the brim.

“Oh god,” you whimper, as he rests his forehead against yours.

“You okay?”

“More than okay,” you answer, cupping his cheek. He mirrors your action and you smile, a sudden burst of tenderness exploding in your chest, tears welling in your eyes. 

Art rotates his hips, pulling back and sinking back into your inviting warmth. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs, kissing your lips, “I’ve dreamt of this for years.”

“Me too,” you admit, wrapping your legs around his waist, “God, Art, I’ve wanted this forever.”

This spurs him on, his thrusts becoming quicker, more eager at your confession. 

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you whimper as he pounds into you, “Wanted this for so long—used to talk to….to Tashi about it—”

Art moves his hand along your side, reaching your thigh and hooking your leg over his shoulder.

“What’d you tell her?”

The new angle sends him deeper, the head of his cock rubbing perfectly against that spongy section of your walls that has your mouth dropping open in pleasure.

“Wanted you,” you manage as Art holds one of your hands above your head against the pillows, “Wanted this so bad.”

“I’ll give it to you,” Art says, his breath catching, “Fuck—oh god you’re so pretty like this, fuck.”

“Art!” you cry his name as your second orgasm builds, sneaking up on you as he slows his pace, “Why’d you—”

“Wanna savor this,” he says softly, kissing the tip of your nose. His thrusts have slowed, hips moving with leisure. 

The pressure in your belly continues to build as he smirks down at you. Tennis has done wonders to his stamina; he fucks you like he could keep this pace for hours, barely breaking a sweat. You whine, throwing your head back against the pillows as he kisses your neck, your hamstring burning deliciously with the stretch. 

“Please come for me,” he murmurs, right next to your ear, “I’ve got to feel that sweet little pussy come around my cock, please.”

You do as you’re told, spurred on by Art whispering praises and encouragement in your ear and you fall apart, clenching around his cock and milking him for all he’s worth. You feel his hips stutter, cock twitching inside your warmth as he follows your release with his own. Art’s lips find yours then, and you can taste yourself on his tongue as he kisses you like a drowning man coming up for air. 

You stay like that for several minutes, his cock softening as you kiss one another, before he slowly pulls out. He takes a moment to take off the condom, tying it off and tossing it in the trash before he rejoins you in bed.

“C’mere,” he says, pulling you across his chest. 

You lie with your cheek pressed against his pec, listening to the gentle beating of his heart. He strokes your arm with his fingers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Did you mean what you said?” he asks, face buried in your hair, “About wanting me? This?”

“Mhmm,” you answer, putting all your cards on the table, “I may have harbored a small crush on you.”

Art picks up your hand measuring it against his own before lacing your fingers together.

“I wish I knew that earlier,” he admits, still holding your hand, “I’ve been in love with you for ages.”

You glance up at him between your lashes and he grins.

“It’s true,” he says with a smile.

“And here I thought Patrick was the only one who owned your heart,” you tease, causing him to playfully bite your wrist, “Hey!���

“Not the only one,” he admits, rolling you over onto your back, “I’m glad you got kicked out of your room last night.”

You lean up, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Me too.”

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[gabgabwrites]

LOVE AND ACES | Art Donaldson

Summary ⇝ Art is mesmerised by your skill, and when you and Tashi agree to spend time with him and Patrick at their room, things get heated, to the point where he’s utterly infatuated by you.

Warnings ⇝ mentions of slight tashi x reader x patrick, swearing, drinking, smoking, kissing, smut! p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f), handjob, early orgasm, orgasm in clothing, cum eating, mentions of foursome, fingering, hair pulling, praise—ART IS A SCHLUT FOR PRAISES.

read part 2 here

"No, don't even worry about it girl, you beat me fair and square," Tashi Duncan said to you, tight lipped smile. You had recently qualified for the finals of the your schools tennis tournament.  You remember how the ball managed to skim her racquet making you the winner. You knew she was happy for you but you also knew how important tennis is to her.

"I know how much this meant to you though," You sigh. The two of you were currently in her dorm room, sitting crossed legged and facing each other.

Tashi let out a soft exhale before meeting your gaze, the pain evident across her face. She pushed a smile onto her features, "Yeah... It did," she began, her words slow as if choosing each one with care. "But hey," Tashi reached out, gently grabbing your hand. "I'm happy you won," she said genuinely.

"Thank you, Tash," You grab her slender hand ad give it a gentle squeeze before letting it fall back to its place.

"I mean it," she said, her words soft as she gave your hand a gentle squeeze. The two of you had spent countless hours practicing together, supporting each other through both wins and losses.

"Yeah, welp I better go and get rest. Game is tomorrow," You pat your lap, swinging your legs to your side to stand up from her bed.

Tashi watched as you got up from the bed, her eyes studying you closely. There was a hint of disappointment in her expression, but it vanished quickly as she smiled. "Alright, sleep tight," she said, her voice neutral.

"You too, and also, you're coming to watch, right?"

Tashi chuckled, her expression lightening, "Of course I am, wouldn't miss it for the world," she assured you, a smile forming on her face. "You better bring your A game," she teased, a small smirk on her face. Her words were light, but you could tell there was still a hint of upset lingering in her eyes.

"You got it boss," You look at her once more before leaving her dorm. You gently shut the door behind you before walking down the passage to your room.

You opened the door, immediately going to your bed and flopping on it. You didn't bother changing from your hoodie and cotton shorts before drifting to sleep.

The sun intruded your curtains before anything else did. You stirred from your sleep before hazily getting up. You brushed your teeth and hair, got dressed in your tennis uniform, grabbed everything you needed before making your way down to the tennis court.

No matter how well you did, you always got nervous. Tashi made sure to tell you that every time you played a match. You loved the girl but sometimes all she did was point out flaws that perhaps were not of your interest.

The hairband in your hair suddenly felt too tight, and your shoelaces were tied too tightly, the racquet in its sling felt too heavy on your arm and your palms too sweaty.

It wasn't like this was your first time ever playing, yet it felt like it was. You didn't know what you were more scared of. Losing and not qualifying for the cup, or disappointing Tashi.

Tashi arrived early, of course she did, finding a good seat to watch the match from.

The grandstands filled with people, Tashi could feel her heart beating faster, her fingers tapping anxiously against her thigh. She had already gone over every possible outcome in her head; you break a bone or twist an ankle; you miss one too many balls; or worse.

"I cannot believe it, dude. I mean, I for sure thought it would be Tashi Duncan playing, but not her!" Tashi overhears some loud voice mention her and your names, she has the urge to turn to look but ignores it. "She's in another league, she's beautiful!"

"And now entering the court, the girls singles world number 1 and winner of the Junior French Open..." The commentator says your name and majority of the crowd blister in cheers.

Tashi sees the way you smile too big to hide your nerves as you step onto the court, waving at the crowd, eyes immediately looking for her. When you do make eye contact, she sees your shoulders relax a little.

Art has heard Patrick pine and want Tashi, but he's heard him rant and rave about you, last night he would not shut up about how you beat Tashi by the skin of your teeth.

You took a sip from your bottle as you set it down on the floor next to the chair, slinging your racquet off and unzipping it.

You stuck out a leg and did last minute stretching, allowing for your muscles to ease and thankfully, your nerves dissipating.

Then the match began and you were all over the court. Your shots were precise, your movement nimble, and your concentration unwavering. Your Russian opponent, Irina Petrovska , couldn't quite keep up, struggling to return each of your powerful serves and shots.

Shared grunts emitted from the both of you, your shoes squeezing against the tar. Sweat dribbling down your temples.

Art and Patrick sat watching, their jaws practically on the floor. The ease in which you were demolishing Petrovska was incredible. They tried to come up with words to describe your performance but found themselves at a loss.

One second you were in the farthest corner on the baseline and the next, soaring through the air as the ball slammed from your racquet, you positioned a meter above the service line.

Tashi sat there, watching every move you made on the court with a mixture of awe and apprehension. Your game was flawless and it was clear that you were dominating the match.

Minutes ticked by, a short interlude and then it continued. Everyone was on the edge of their seat. With one last toss up of the ball, you won an ace, and victory was yours.

Pride swelled in your chest as you were looking at Tashi who gave you a smile and clapped. You did it, securing another win in your name. Petrovska has an absolute meltdown, cursing at herself in Russian, smashing her racquet to the ground.

Tashi made sure you had a small party to celebrate your win. Your family was there, the people who watched the game, other friends and your fans. It was nighttime, supposed to be cold but the twinkling fairy lights managed to emit the tiniest bit of warmth, the alcohol in your system definitely helped as you and Tashi danced to Nelly.

You tap Tashi on the shoulder. "I'm thirsty, come with me?" You asked, she simply nodded as she followed you to the table, both of you grabbing your drinks.

"Come, let's sit down over there," She points to some loungers off by a wall where it's more quiet. "Just want to get away from all the busy."

You follow suit before plonking yourself on the one to the left. "Ugh, my feet hurt," You complain, Tashi nodding next to you. You let your eyes momentarily flutter closed before voices interrupt.

"I'm Patrick Zweig—."

"Art Donaldson."

You open your eyes to see two males dressed in jeans and pale coloured button ups. One has curly black hair and the other, slightly longer blonde hair. Both of their eyes flitting between you and Tashi.

Tashi is the first to speak. "I know who you are, you're fire and ice, right?"

You let out a giggle through your nose, drawing both their attentions. The blonde one flushed as pink as his shirt while the one with the black hair grinned. "Hm, so which ones which?"

"Isn't it obvious?" The darker haired one winked.

"You were fucking incredible today," The other male spoke, looking straight at you. "I mean, it wasn't even tennis, it was something entirely different."

"Thank you," You give him a smile which he mirrored.

"I felt bad for Ilina."

"Don't be, she's a sore loser," You scoffed, taking a sip from your drink.

"And a racist bitch, she's constantly say bad things under her breath in Russian at half time," Tashi said. "Hey, you're going to Stanford, right?" Tashi asked the blonde who looked slightly surprised at her question.

"Uh yeah, how'd you know that?" He questioned.

"I just accepted their offer and they mentioned you," Tashi replied.

"You're not going pro? You're going to a college?" The one with the dark hair asked.

"Yeah, we both are," Tashi jabbed a thumb in your direction and you nodded.

"Yup, I mean I still wanna keep up my education and not flunk only to be sleeping in my car after school," you chuckled.

"Girls! Come to the trophy stand, I want to take pics of the both of you!" Your mother ushered with a big smile, holding up her well expired phone. "And the photographers want some of my baby as well!"

"Right, coming mom!" You yell, "C'mon," you motion for Tashi to follow.

"Let's go," She turns to the two boys. "Gotta go..."

"Yeah, bye!" You wave one last time before disappearing into the crowd of people. The two boys watched as you and Tashi plastered on massive smiles in front of the pristine trophy you won as a photographer snapped photos.

During which, you had learnt that Patrick was the one with the black hair and Art was the one with the blonde hair when you asked Tashi who was who.

Your cheeks ached and your eyes burned when the camera was going off, a multitude of people standing next to you at different times. You even stood next to Tashi while either of your families stood around you two.

"You ready to leave?" Tashi asked, her thumb flicking off some dried mascara that had fallen from your lashes and onto your cheek while you thanked her.

"Absolutely," She tugged on your wrist towards the pathway between the bushes, having both to stop and say your last goodbyes to everyone.

It was quieter as the two of you walked before voices cut through the silence. "Hey!" You looked up to where the voice came from to see Art and Patrick, lounging by some benches in a tucked away corner.

"Guess we should see what they want," Tashi mumbled.

Getting closer, you noticed the two of them smoking cigarettes, both immediately standing up when you and Tashi approached. The smell of tobacco hung in the air, mingling with the cool evening breeze. "Hi," you greeted them, your voice breaking the silence. Patrick glanced at you, then quickly turned his gaze to Tashi, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Don't you guys have a final tomorrow?" you asked, genuinely curious about their casual demeanor.

"It's just juniors, so nothing to worry about," Patrick confirmed, his tone dismissive. He looked bashful as he stared at your best friend, his cheeks reddening slightly under her gaze. It was clear he was more interested in her than in any exam.

You nodded, trying to keep the conversation light. "Okay, well um, it's cool how you two stayed," you said with a smile, feeling a bit awkward.

"Do you two smoke?" Patrick asked, his own cigarette bouncing against his bottom lip when he spoke, drawing your attention briefly there.

"No," Tashi replied faster than you did, shaking her head vehemently. Her long hair swayed gently as she did, catching the fading light of the day.

You nodded in agreement. "Yeah, no, we don't smoke," you said, watching as Patrick slipped the cigarettes back into his pocket.

Patrick nodded while Art sucked on his cigarette. "Do you guys wanna go to the beach?"

You agreed and Tashi did once you did, and so now the four of you were walking to the hill that was actually above the beach, you sat on a rock while Tashi sat on a discarded tree stump, the boys sitting on chairs.

Tashi spoke about tennis— she always spoke about tennis, you sat and listened to her getting appraisal, you got complimented on your game and your skills, but you just smiled in response where as Tashi would talk about how tennis was like a relationship.

You weren't really paying much attention, instead choosing to look over your shoulder at the glistening waves of the ocean, reflecting the moon's edge. The rhythmic sound of the waves was almost hypnotic, drawing you into a tranquil state.

"And you?" Your name was called, snapping your attention away from nature. You turned to find the blonde staring at you intently, a curious look in his eyes.

"Huh?" you responded, a bit startled and disoriented from being pulled out of your reverie. The question hung in the air, and you realized you had missed something important in the conversation.

"Tashi was explaining what tennis is to her, so I asked you what tennis is to you," He continued, finishing off his cigarette.

"Oh, uh, a sport I guess," You shrugged. "It's great and all but..." Tennis wasn't your first choice, nor your second, yet the weight of your future was not dependent on your hands. It was on your father's, and after he saw what Tashi could do and the success that lies in the sport, you were ripped away from your passion and plonked in the middle of the court. It wasn't that you didn't like tennis, you just didn't love it.

"What?!" Patrick's eyes bulged out his head as he sat up. "Just a sport?! Surely you're joking?"

You shook your head earning a scoff from him. Tashi went quiet, looking at her lap. A gentle smile on her face, somehow gif answer struck a little bit of shame in her.

"Hey, um, I think I should go. My dad's probably gonna come looking for me," Tashi spoke, standing up from her seat.

"Oh yeah, hold up. I'll walk you to yours," you said, also standing and dusting the back of your pants, trying to brush off any dirt that might have clung to you. You glanced back at the ocean one last time, the waves still shimmering under the moonlight.

"You have Facebook?"

"What?"

Art tilted his head towards Patrick. "He's asking for your numbers, and so am I."

"Not a home-wrecker," you muttered under your breath, your eyes darting between the two of them. Patrick shook his head at your response with a small smile.

"We don't live together, so it's barely a home," Art nodded at his words, agreeing.

"Yeah, and Patrick has a girlfriend," At this response your eyebrows raised, Patrick's expression fell.

"It's barely a relationship," He excused.

"Sure. They put you two in the hotel in Flushing, right?" Tashi asked them with her arms draped across her chest, shielding her from the chilly night air.

"Room 206."

You let out a short giggle through your nose, softly nudging Tashi with your elbow. "They want you to go tuck them in."

"Not just her, and no, we wanna keep talking..." Art cocked his head, blonde locks falling over his brown as he did as such. "...about tennis."

"Okay," you shook your head, urging Tashi to continue walking. She thankfully did.

"We have beer!" you heard one yell after the two of you, making you laugh. You glanced back over your shoulder with a playful smirk, catching a glimpse of their hopeful faces before they were both covered by the thick bushy arch-way.

You were always in Tashi's dorm, the two of you out of your dresses and into something more comfortable. You chose black cotton shorts and a white Nike hoodie. "I think it'll be fun, don't you?" She asked as she sprayed some deodorant over herself.

"Yeah,but they also seem like two die hard virgins," You snickered. "But shame, they were sweet," Your chin was nestled in the palm of your hand as you silently watched her.

"Or maybe they're secretly sex gods," Tashi shrieked when you threw a pillow in her direction, laughter bubbling from her lips. "What? I'm just saying! The blonde one was totally into you!"

"We had minimal conversation," you playfully rolled your eyes, getting up from the bed as Tashi made her way to the door.

"Yeah, but you didn't see the way he was looking at you when you weren’t looking," She said in a sing-song voice, opening the door and shutting it behind you, the two of you walking down the passage together.

"Okay, sure Tashi."

"Do you think they're actually coming?" Art, who was laying on his back on the bed, asked. Legs leaning against the wall as a cigarette dangled from his lips, tossing a ball up and down.

"They might," Patrick groaned when the AC didn't work, even after he had banged on it multiple times.

"Dude, you made it sound like we wanted to fuck them in here."

"...we do."

"And if they do, then what's your plan?"

"We each have one, or worse, they both have one, while the other sits in the bathroom."

"Just face it, they're not coming," and then, there was a knock on the door, both boys went stock still and rigid, a second knock brought them out of their shock before they were hurriedly stumping out their cigarettes and throwing on shirts.  The door before you ripped open, revealing the two who looked out of breath and flushed. "Hey."

"Hi."

So now the four of you ended up sitting on the floor, sporting one beer can between you all, and a deck of cards as you guys were in the middle of Go Fish. "You guys went to boarding school."

"Mhm, we've been bunk mates since we were twelve."

"That's cute," You said before taking a swig from the chilled can of beer, before placing it down in front of you.

The conversations switched between different topics. "So what about the two of you?" Tashi asked, gesturing between the two of them. It took a solid minute before they realised what she was insinuating.

"No."

"No."

"Well..."

"No, don't."

"What? It’s a sweet story," Patrick giggled as he recalled it, Art went a brilliant shade of red as he hid his face behind his shirt, hiding his embarrassment.

"Well go on, let's hear it," You leant backwards, leaning against your hands as you watched Art turn even more red before he threw his hands up in defeat. Patrick nodded.

"I taught Art how to jerk off," Patrick said, watching Art's head hang in embarrassment. You couldn't fight off the grin that made way on your face.

"Okay. Patrick was an early bloomer, and I think I was on time," Patrick said. "And one time, I thought he was asleep but he was, y'know... jerking off—."

"Jerking off. And, yeah..." Patrick butted in.

"And I asked him, "What are you doing?"And he told me; He's jerking off." Patrick again jabbed in with the 'jerking off' part. "He asked me if I've ever done it before and I said no, so he just...showed me."

"What do you mean he showed you how?" Tashi laughed, she had been sitting with her legs pressed against her chest, arms wrapped around her knees.

"No I mean...he did it on his bed and I did it on mine. We did it together but like, on opposite sides...in the room," Art looked like he wanted to die, to have the earth split open in two and swallow him.

"Silently?"

"Hmm? No, no. I was think of Kat Zimmerman and so..." Patrick explained.

"So I was thinking about her too."

"Because it's always better to have someone in mind, y'know?"

"So who finished first?" Tashi asked, you turned your head to look at her with a raised brow, wondering why she was asking all these questions.

"I don't remember..."

"I think it was him," Patrick pointed at Art. Art tried to deny but Patrick wasn't hearing it. "No... it definitely was. I remember," He began to chuckle. "I remember how he was just sitting there, like some kid who had spilt milk all over his lap. I knew enough to have a sock nearby. Forgot to tell Art so..."

"Oh Jesus, Patrick!" Art sighed, skin hot and pink from how much Patrick was letting on.

"No, I think it's a cute story," You giggled while Art looked at you distraught before running a hand over his face muttering things under his breath.

Tashi took a sip of beer before she shook the can. "We're out of beer.”

She said that before standing up, you watched as she looked around the room before deciding to sit on the edge of the bed, hands in her lap. Her eyes cast down on the three of you as you still sat on the floor.

With a jut of her head, she said; "Come here,"

"Which one—?" Patrick was already pushing off the floor and sitting down next to her, Art following suit, while you decided to stay seated on the floor, turning to look at them.

Tashi sat on the bed with Art and Patrick next to her while you sat on the floor, in the boy's shared room. It took you by surprise when she leant closer to Patrick, almost as if she was going to kiss him before tilting her chin away and pressing her lips against Art's. Patrick looked butt-hurt to say the least.

Her lips mingled against Arts in a steamy kiss, Patrick's shoulders sagged and you, all you could do was watch. She then broke the kiss and kissed Patrick, Art watching their lips move together, mesmerised.

What shocked you the most after she had finished kissing Patrick, was when she bent at the waist to look at you. "Come here," Tashi instructed.

You blinked up at her before standing up from the ground and walking towards her. She grabbed the front of your hoodie and pulled you onto Art, whose hands had to grip your waist to prevent you from falling, your hands on his shoulders.

"Go on..." She instructed, gesturing between you and Art. Your lips parted to say something but closed as you turned to look over at Art.

Slowly, you brought your face to kiss, lips brushing his, which had a thin layer of saliva on them, and pressed them together. Arts hands moved from your hips to your lower back, lips moving increasingly faster and harder against each other.

Tashi watched as you kissed the boy, Patrick watched her. Her brown eyes blown with lust as she slowly brought her lips to Patrick's, eyes prying off of you before fluttering shut.

You leant closer, lifting your legs up to straddle him, his hands immediately going to cup your ass, to hold you firm in place. Art would let out small whimpers and whines against your lips, turning into putty when your fingers thread through his locks, the boy almost came in his pants when you tugged in his air.

It really didn't help when he felt your hips dip, as you began to grind your hips against his lap, his pyjama shorts were so thin, and your cotton shorts were just as, he could feel the heat of you against his aching erection.

Art gave up and lay back, having you still cage him in, hips relentless. You could feel his cock, hard and throbbing against your clothed arousal, which was dripping into your panties.

Art's lips broke away from yours, allowing for your lips to kiss down his jaw and suck purple and red bruises on his neck. His mouth lax, letting out whimpers of your name. "Aw, fuck...shit..." He'd moan, his strong hands gripped at the flesh of your hips, his own hips kept rocking up against you.

You were well aware of the scene next to you, Tashi and Patrick who's lips were locked together, Patrick was more rough with Tashi than Art was with you, but he wasn't as talkative or loud than Art.

"Please?" Art didn't know what he was begging for, but he needed something. The small patch of wetness in his underwear from his pre-cum was seeping through to your own wet patch of arousal.

"You like this, Art?" You asked against his skin, Art nodded, his larger hand finding the ends of your hair and tugging at it, you could only let out a moan of your own. You moaned his name, and that was Art's end game as he spilled his hot cum in his shorts, moaning out your name.

You couldn't enjoy it any longer, the way you felt your own high near, the way you felt wet and sticky down there, desperate for release before you were yanked backwards by Tashi, who gripped your hoodie. "Come on, it's time to go."

"W-What?" You asked in disbelief, back on your feet. Art had sat up and grabbed a pillow, hiding the massive spill in his shorts with a face as red as a turnip. "But I was...we were just—."

"Ah, ah, ah, it's past one. Bed time, missy." Tashi let go of your hoodie and began to walk towards the door. You could tell she enjoyed her kiss, with her messy hair and the dark marks that began to darken against her skin, but clearly that's all it was for her and Patrick—a kiss.

You had no choice but to follow, turning to look over at Art who watched you, like a kicked puppy, leave. "I'm not done with you," you pointed to him before you were out of sight.

Patrick waited until you were guaranteed to be out of ear shot before turning and grabbing Art by the shoulders and ferociously shake him. "Dude! Look at you! Almost banged one of the hottest chick ever!" He exclaimed. "You should totally go for her, she was definitely into you."

"You think?" Art got a little too excited and stood up, pillow slipping from his lap, exposing his semi-boner he got from recalling the events.

"Yeah," Patrick slapped Art's boner, who doubled over in pain. "Go for it."

A week had passed, Tashi and Patrick were somewhat a thing, as for you and Art, well, he thought you were ignoring him. Anytime he saw Tashi, you weren't with, you were always with Tashi. The one time he asked her where you were and she said practicing on the courts, when he got there, there was no sign of you.

Art wondered if he did anything wrong, if you regretted the kiss. Since the kiss, Art hadn't been able to get you off his mind, he knew of you before and thought you were brilliant and was somewhat attracted, but now? He's utterly infatuated with you, and you... are no where to be seen.

You had been so caught up in your studies, you had one last final to write before you were done. You had spent most of your days harbouring knowledge in your room or practicing for shorter periods than what you perhaps should have, it was an ongoing cycle.

Thankfully all that stress was gone into this air when you walked out the exam venue, immediately going to the small vending machine. "God damn it," You sighed, your foot digging into the metal box when it swallowed up your five dollar bill and refused to give you your snack. "Why?"

Your name was called, you look at the directions to see Art jogging over to you. The closer he got, the more sheepish he became. "There you are, I haven't seen you all week."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I've just been studying for my final finals, between that and tennis I've just lost track of time," You told him honestly. You watched as his shoulders relaxed and he suddenly became embarrassed.

"Oh. I thought you were avoiding me," His hand rubbed the back of his neck, skin burning under his touch. "I'm sorry."

"Avoiding you?" You crossed your arms over your chest. "Why would I do that?"

"I...I don't know. I just thought that you didn't like the kiss we had, and got weirded out when I, y'know..." Art stared at his shoes, they were pearly white and brand new. "I didn't know, now I sound stupid."

"Pfft, no you don't," You let out a breath of a laugh. "And no, I did very much enjoy our kiss, and I kinda liked it when you came in your pants."

Art let out a groan of embarrassment, big smile stretching on his face as his head lifted up to look at the popcorn ceiling before looking at you. "Stop! Now you make me sound like a virgin," He laughed and shook his head.

"No, it was cute," You smiled up at him, leaning against the vending machine. It was silent as you two just smiled and stared at each other. His face inching to yours.

A beat passed. "I really wanna kiss you right now," He admitted, his voice was soft yet filled with desire. "Can I kiss you right now?"

"I'd be upset if you didn't," Arts lips were instantly on yours. Not caring if others could see. His one hand was on your jaw, fingers pushing between your hair, tongue licking at your bottom lip.

You didn't allow him into your mouth before you broke the kiss, finding it sweet how his lips chased yours before realising you weren't going to continue the kiss, opting to look at you with a small pout.

"Why'd you stop?"

"Can't give you everything you want," You smirked. "You'll have to find me later if you want more, and who knows? Maybe you'll cum in your pants again," Your smirk grows bigger when you finish your sentence before brushing past him and walking away, leaving a very flustered and shocked Art by the vending machine.

The irony of it all was your snack slipped from its holder, landing with a loud 'clang' at the bottom. Art replayed your words in his head, and now he couldn't wait for 'later'.

Except he didn't know when was 'later' and where it was. He doesn't know which hotel, you were in nor which room. He would only be able to catch you during school. He thankfully caught you in the schools canteen, where he was going to meet Patrick. You were busy ordering from the counter when he saw you, Patrick going to go sit down by the counter against the wall.

You had bought a chocolate croissant, spinning around only to almost bump into Art. "Oh, didn't see you there."

"Sorry," You could count how many times he'd apologised today on one hand. "Just, didn't know when to catch you, and I don't have your number so... uh," He licked his bottom lip as he chose how to ask you. "When is...later?"

"Ohh, later, as in round two, when we pick up where we left off later? M'kay, well that's whenever you want it to be," You gave him a smile after your words.

He tilted his chin down by a smidgen, his blonde locks barely moving as some were trapped under his red cap he wore backwards. "If I had my way, later would be now," He admitted, a flash of darkness surged though his eyes before it was gone as he stepped around you to order, leaving you just as shocked as you left him by the vending machine.

You let out a hum, turning around to face his back. "I'll come visit you tonight at eight, make sure your friend is gone before I arrive. See you," You chirped before spinning on your heel and walking out the canteen.

Art mulled on your words—yet again, and now he really, fucking couldn't wait until 'later'. He grabbed his two churros from the lady at the counter and made his way towards Patrick who was grinning from ear to ear. "So. What did she say?"

Art cleared his throat. "Hey, don't you wanna go spend the night with Tashi?" He asked, in hopes that Patrick would agree and not catch on to what he said, unfortunately for him, he did.

"Man, my man! You horn dog!" Patrick chuckled as he grabbed his churro and took a large chuck out of it, chewing on it mercilessly. "But yeah, I'll spend the night with Tashi."

And then, the 'later' came. Patrick had left and told Art he'd be back somewhere tomorrow, leaving Art all on his own. Art had only ever done casual, he'd gone on maybe two dates, which ultimately failed, and he's slept with maybe four other girls which would all leave by the morning, he told himself this was nothing new, yet found himself spraying on a little extra deodorant to smell good, for you.

His heart rate spiked when he heard you knock on the door, he rushed to rip it open revealing you in a pink sweater and denim shorts. He greeted you a little too quickly, he was nervous.

"Hi, Art," You stepped inside and wrapped your arms around him in a hug, he immediately melted into it as he shut the door with one hand.

"I have a movie and some snacks, if you wanna watch," His thumb jabbed towards the small TV in the hotel room that was positioned in the corner, facing the two double beds.

"Sure, Art. Lead the way," Art nodded and turned to go find a movie to watch, pondering over which was suited for the occasion before settling on some crappy romance flick. You sat at the edge of Arts bed, where you two had kissed. Art rushed to turn off the lights and grab a packet of chips, before plonking himself next to you.

You thought it was sweet how you two were supposed to fuck, yet here you were, watching some poorly executed film.

Twenty minutes had passed before you grew bored of the movie. You turned your head to watch Art instead.

You could see how tense he was, his adams apple bobbed when he swallowed a chip, his back plank straight instead of hunched in relaxation.

A soft gasp caught in his throat when he felt your hand land on his back and run up and down his spine. "You're so tense, Art," He looked over at you, while you watched your hands movements. His hands firm on his thighs.

His eyelids fluttered shut and his lashes kissed his cheeks when your hands went higher to massage his head. He dared not open is eyes when your warm breath fanned his face. You were close, so so close!

"Look at me," Like an obedient puppy, his eyes snapped open as he stared at you. "Why are you so nervous?”

Art swallowed. "You make me nervous," He said, before whispering; "because I like you."

You couldn't fight off the smile that graced your face. "It's okay Art, I like you too," your hand moved to his forehead where you pushed his curls back, Art enjoying your touch before a frown graced his features when it left. He then felt your weight on him as you climbed onto his lap, exactly like the time you shared your kiss. Arms looped around his neck and your chest against his.

His hands got a little more touchy as they slipped under your sweater and settled on the warm skin of your lower back, his fingertips tracing every groove and bump there. His sky blue eyes looking up at you through his light lashes in the dimly lit room. "You do?" He whispered softly.

"I do," Then, you pressed your lips to his. He sighed against you, allowing for the rest of his nerves to evaporate, his arms ringing you closer. You felt his lashes brush your skin, and his curls against your forehead. You licked at his bottom lip and he immediately allowed for your tongue to press against his.

Your nails scratched at the spot beneath his ear, sending a shiver down his spine and an involuntary whimper to escape his throat. It was so easy to get him worked up, his erection making his Nike shorts taut. His eyes rolled back in his head when your hips shifted against his, allowing for some release.

"Mmm, Art," You breathlessly mumbled, even though the denim shorts barely helped you, the feeling of his hands touching all over your back and rear was still pleasant.

Your hips became more vigour, and Art became louder. "No, no, no..." He seemed to catch on to what you were trying to do, his hands flew to your hips and ripped you off, making you hover. Arms strong from his years of tennis. "You're not gonna make me cum in my pants again."

You smirked at this. "You're no fun," You shook your head, Art rolled over, now having your back against the bed, and your legs dangle off the sides. You wasted no time, grabbing the front of his shirt and bringing him to you, reconnecting your lips together.

Art kissed you back passionately, his tongue entering your mouth as he took it all in. His hands traveled over your body, trying to memorize it as he felt your curves and your skin. He continued to kiss and nibble down your neck, leaving small hickeys in his path. His hands grabbed the hem of your shirt, slowly and carefully pulling it off of you to reveal your exposed breasts.

Art couldn't help but admire your body. He took a moment to drink in the view, his eyes traveling up and down your frame. He reached out and gently ran a hand over your skin, tracing your curves with his fingers. His calloused fingers went to your nipple, you shuddered when he gave it a gentle tug before letting it settle back into place.

He smiled, a hint of desire in his eyes. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice low and seductive. He leaned in to kiss you again, his lips loving down and finding your neck and nibbling gently.

"Art, take your clothes off," You whine, hand grasping the back of his shirt to pull at it. "It's unfair how I'm half naked while you're fully."

Art let out a bemused chuckle at your impatience, his smile widening. "Anything for you," he teased, his voice dripping with desire. He stood up straight, pulling his shirt off and discarding it on the floor before going for his pants, he then quickly bent at the waist and turned on the lamp, "Wanna see you."

You watched his expose his torso, now stripped down to his underwear before going back to you, his fingers moved forwards and dug into the waistband of your shorts before yanking them, you had already undone the button, with some not-so-fluid motion, they came off. His hands went to your hips but you were so eager to kiss him again, leaning forward and smashing your lips against his.

One of your hands went to steady yourself on his arm with the other was feeling the muscles and flesh of his torso, pinkie finger grazing over his black underpants until your whole hand was  grasping his hard cock, even through the material, you felt the ridges and veins, the small wet patch grew the longer you touched him.

"That feels good," Art admitted against your hips, his hips pressing further into your touch. "Really fucking good."

"I know, my baby," Your words sent a flutter through his chest. You moved your hand up before it slipped underneath his boxers, now nestled in your palm as you stroked him. You had to momentarily break the kiss, pushing his boxers down and spitting on the head of his cock, throbbing red, lubricating it as you jerked him off slowly.

"Mmf— fuck!" He hissed when your thumb brushed his leaky slit, hips bucking up into your hand.

You continued this motion, jerking your hand and rubbing his tip, moments before your name spilled from his lips like a mantra, white spurts of his thick cum spilling onto your hand. You continued until he rode out his high until bringing your hand to your lips and licking majority of his cum off with a satisfied hum.

Art grabbed your hand unexpectedly and moved it to his lips, his mouth opening, letting his tongue lap up the rest of his cum on your hand in languid strokes, eyes boring into yours. "You tasted so good," You told him, his eyelashes quivered and his cheeks flushed further at your praise.

He let your hand fall when he finished, you dug your hand into the bedding and shifted upwards until your back hit the bed frame. He crawled onto the bed until he was hovering over you, blonde locks sticking to his forehead with perspiration.

His head ducked forward to kiss your collar bone and up, trailing over your neck as he peppered it with kisses before his nose nudged your ear. "God, I need you so bad."

"You have me, Art," Your hands pressed against his shoulders, pushing him to the side and then onto his back, allowing for you to kick your leg over and straddle him, the only thing in your way was your own underwear. "All of me."

Art looked exactly that, like an art piece. His blue eyes contrast to his pink cheeks and pale hair, lips red and swollen from the numerous kisses, his chest heaving up and down and his heart thundering away, waiting for your next move. His hands went to your hips, thumb rubbing along any groove you had, his hands now warm. "All of you," He echoed.

You raised your lips, your fingers pushing your underwear to the side, not even off, your eyes flickered to his. He gulped when he saw how wet you were, arousal dripping down into him. He moved his hand to grab his cock, positioning it in a way that was easy for you to slip him inside.

First was the tip, it set you up for the anticipation of all of hi , the further you sunk down onto him, the more it hurt, but you weren't gonna complain, not after pining to Tashi about this boy. Art let out a whimper when he was fully sheathed, already tender from his previous orgasm.

You planted both hands on his chest before lifting your hips, and dropping them down. Arts hands tightened their hold as he assisted, having you lift them plummet onto his cock, his blonde eyebrows scrunching in pleasure. The movements got faster, and the euphoria expanded. "You're making me feel so good," You told him, hips doing a combination of grinding on and riding his cock

Arts eyes shone upon your words, pride sweeping in his chest and a warm feeling settling in his tummy. "Yeah?" He asked and you nodded, taking one hand of his and arranging g his fingers in a way that pressed against your throbbing clit, Art new immediately what you wanted and fervently rubbing circles on the aching nub, your pussy squeezing him at the added pleasure. "Ah fuck, feels so good, so so good."

Art didn't shut up as you rode him. He'd moan, groan and whimper your name. Telling you how good you felt around him. "Am I doing good?” His voice was soft and shaky.

"Yes Art, shit! You’re doing so good, baby. I'm so proud," and your words were even shakier. Arts fingers rubbed faster against your clit, he bent his knees which made you shift forward, his cock now repeatedly bumping against that one spot that had you seeing stars and galaxies beyond.

That sent Art toppling over the edge, his hands squeezed harder around your waist, head thrown back and his back arched as he came, buried deep in your pussy. You felt his warm load full you up, and his hips stop moving against yours, a loud moan of your name falling from his lips.

You couldn't beat the small ounce of disappointment you felt when he lifted you, soft cock slipping out, and your orgasm vaporise. "Did you enjoy?"

He nodded, eyes blinking up at the ceiling. His lips then parted before shutting, before ultimately opening again. "You didn't cum, did you?"

You sucked in a short breath. "No."

Arts eyes screwed shut like your words pained him. "I'm sorry," He mumbled.

You were going to say something but he beat you to it.

“Sit on my face."

"What?" You asked, astonished.

"You heard me, sit on my face."

You blinked once before swallowing, moving up now face to face with the wall as your pussy hovered over his face, slick with arousal and his own cum. He wasted no time, fingers pushing you firm against him, clit bumping his nose before his tongue dove into your pussy.

His own previous, salty release washed over his tongue, before it moved to your clit, where it began to flick at it. Your fingers sighting out his hair, pulling on it as you ground yourself further against his face. Even though your eyes were fighting to roll back into your skull and your tongue was threatening to fall out, you still made effort to look down at him.

His own eyes shut as he focused on his movements, you'd feel small vibrations against your clit, once he'd wrapped his lips around them, as he whimpered, savouring the way you tasted. Your body fell forward, head smushed against the wall at one particular flick on the tongue.

His long fingers sought out your puckering hole that clenched around nothing, until two fingers filled you up. You had to bite down on your forearm, when he split his fingers open, scissoring inside you. "I-I'm not gonna last any longer," You moaned.

Art mumbled something against you, his tongue lapping faster like a starved man, and that was it. You felt your release rip from you like a tidal wave, legs clamping around his head, drowning him in your fluids.

When you lifted your hips, you saw how the bottom half of his face was drenched in cum, his lips open and panting. You swung your leg around so you could lay next to him. You couldn't help your fingers that wiped away at his face, his pink tongue sticking out to lick your release from your fingers. "How was I? Truly?"

You let out a tired smile. "You were great, Art."

He nodded, tilting his head to look at you. "So were you."

You let out an exhausted chuckle before curling yourself into him, Art's hand went to stroke your hair, lips pressing a kiss against your hairline.

"Will I get to see you again? L-Like other than sex?" His words vibrated against your head.

"If this is a way of asking me on a date, then yes."

You felt him slowly nod. "Okay, yes. Good."

"Good."

"Good..."

[part 2]

[gladiatorcunt]

Can you do a dom Tashi fic with a female reader? Need her! Lol

cw: went kind of wild with this, blindfolds, orgasm delay/denial, puppy play, mommy kink, slight bdsm, implied masochistic reader, stoplight system, shirt used as bondage, mentions of ropes/gags/fucking machines, infidelity, pain play, you can decide if the bonus implied poly part is canon to the story, feminization (one good girl bc i couldn’t hold it back), patrick catching strays 💀, canon typical mind games, extreme spanking mention, tashi being a good dom (+ off screen aftercare, trust), mention of cleaning her strap with your tongue, slight degradation, unedited, afab reader

“Mmfh- Tashi, slow down…” You whine, pausing your makeout session to her immediate disapproval. “I don’t think we should be doing this anymore.”

She rolls her eyes but she humors you and pulls back to sit on her heels. Tashi wonders what’s got you so worked up this time, but she knows she can take care of it and you’ll be back on her strap where you belong. Regardless of any “boyfriend.”

“What are you talking about?” She coos, rubbing your cheekbones with the sides of her thumbs and admiring how your eyes clearly want to flutter shut. “You’re not doing anything wrong, don’t worry about it.”

You bite your lip, stuffing your hands in between your thighs so you won’t want to chew on your nails, “But what about Patrick? Isn’t this cheating? I thought you guys were together.”

She doesn’t immediately say that you had your tongue all up in her pussy even when you apparently had that idea in your head. You’ve been fucking for months, so it’s kind of silly to be getting your panties in a twist over morals this late in the game. But you just don’t get it yet, that’s all. You don’t have the mindset for these kinds of things, not like Tashi does.

“How can we be together if he’s not here? What we had is as limp as his dick. Not like us, you’re so much better than him, babe.” She whispers, sliding her hands down to massage your shoulders “If he hasn’t gotten the hint by now, then that’s his own fuckin’ fault, you got that?”

The venom in her little speech by the end wasn’t directed at you, it could never be, but you’re taken aback by it all the same. You’re not the kind of person who’d take pleasure from knowingly helping someone cheat, but Tashi Duncan doesn’t need help to do anything. And at least you’re worth something to her, unlike Patrick who at least deserves a lazyily written instagram dm.

You decide to chalk it all up to whatever the fuck seems to be in the college air, “Yeah, Tash’ , I got it.”

Tashi bucks her hips and rubs the tip of her strap against the sheets, pulling you into her lap to straddle it. She captures your lips in a second, sloppier, kiss and smooths her palms over your ass. You keen at the sharp smacks she gives you as you grind on the fake cock, sucking on her tongue and clutching onto the back of her neck.

It’s Tashi who interrupts the kiss this time, to grab the nearby silk blindfold and slip it around your eyes. After a reassurance from you that you can’t see anything at all, she tugs your button up shirt down to tie your wrists behind your back. Not anything too tight, but the fancy ropes, toys, and gags are back at her place.

You give her the okay to keep going after wiggling around to test your restraints, rolling your eyes behind your blindfold when you rattle off the stoplight system like she asks you to. You’re grateful that she can’t see it, you would be bent over her lap and your ass would be black and blue if she did. Sometimes you ask for that type of play outside of you being a brat.

Tashi tells you that you did a good job and your pussy jumps at the praise. She laughs meanly at the sight and digs her nails into your ass cheeks, moving your hips into a slow grind.

She pats you on the ass, “Up, puppy. Time for your treat.”

You obediently lift your hips, hearing her move around so she can position the head of her cock at your entrance. Despite how much you want to just absoutely slam your hips down on her length and feel your ass jiggle around it, you know she wants you to go slow even though she prepped you with her fingers earlier. Your pussy’s genuinely so tight and has trouble with penetration, you need to take your time for Tashi’s peace of mind at least. Especially since your cock slut hole likes the more monster looking dildos.

“You’ve got this puppy, just relax for me. That’s it.-” Tashi says, keeping a firm grip on your hips and eyeing the inches of her strap being slowly devoured by your greedy cunt.

Not being able to see your surroundings hightens the feeling of Tashi’s cock spreading you open. You whine when you’ve finally taken all of her, thanks to your determination and her fingers playing with your nipples. You accept the quick kiss she lays on you and start bouncing without her go ahead, earning you a slap across your heaving tits that gets you wetter than when she had you go on a fucking machine.

You enjoy being able to moan freely, shrieking like a porn star as Tashi alternates between playing with your tits and your ass. She doesn’t even have to move, you need her so bad that your pure instinct is driving you to cream on the thick cock inside you. You’re slicking it up already, so when Tashi rubs furious circles into your clit and she knows you’re clenching, she harshly grabs your face.

“No cumming until I say so, you remember the last time you were a bad puppy don’t you?”

You do, she made you orgasm so much that by the time it was over, gun to your head you would’ve sworn that your clit fell off.

“I-i’ll be good, fuck! I can hold it, mommy, promise!” You babble, feeling tired already but keeping up your unsustainable jackhammer pace.

Tashi leans back on her hands and enjoys the show. Your eyes covered and your arms held behind your back, basically being unable to do anything but fuck yourself on her huge fake cock. She reverntly rubs your thighs up and down, hitting you when you need it and soothing the sting afterward. She keeps you dangling over the edge for what feels like hours to you before you’re tempted to embrace whatever punishment she’ll dish out after you cum.

Just when you think that you’re to fall apart beyond repair and all recognition, Tashi squeezes each of your tits and takes them into her mouth. She brings her fingers back to your clit and you could cry in relief because she only pulls out all the stops when she wants you to give her a nice long orgasm.

“Good puppy, you can do it, cum for me. Gush all over mommy’s cock, make her proud- just like that… oh, good girl, that’s it, let it all out. I want you to make a big mess for me, I know how much you like to clean mommy’s strap.” She coos, talking you through it while you meet God.

You fall asleep giving Tashi’s cock a tongue bath.

Bonus:

The latest texts between Tashi and Patrick are pages and pages of entire essays about what you look and sound like when you cum. They’d knew you’d feel too guilty about coming in between them to go after you together, so they’re working on a sort of trial run. But what Patrick doesn’t know is that Tashi could care less if you warm up to him like you have to her, she ‘saw you across the room and loved your vibe’ first. She’d still have you if you succumbed to Patrick’s eventual “I can’t believe she dumped me” sobbed story anyway.

She does love you, you’re her baby. Patrick’s a fun experiment in how desperate a man can get.

[poppy-metal]

Okay but the ANGST with Tashi being in the closet while dating Patrick… AHHH I just know my girl would be going through it. Maybe she thinks feeling up reader in front of Patrick once will satiate her, but it just makes her crush worse! Poor thing.

she's not fooling anybody (except you) i imagine patrick bouncing her on his dick and he starts talking about you and it should really piss tashi off - her boyfriend talking about another girl, her friend no less, and she does want to slap the shit out of him - but god she's so fucking wet - clenches around him immediately when your name falls from his lips. "shut up -" she hisses at him but she's riding him harder and he grins - flushed and fucking smug -

"c'mon tash - admit it." he leans into her, chin pressing between her tits - looks up at her with his bright green eyes. tastes her skin with his tongue - knows she hates how good he looks - especially when she's looking down at him like this. "you want." he kisses travel up, until he's pullint a taught nipple into his mouth - "to fuck -" he says around the hardened nub - "your best friends hot -" draws it between his lips. sucks. "tight." he pulls his head back as far as he can, until her nipple pops free and tashi gasps - "wet little pussy."

tashi groans - shudders in his arms - cant even think of a snappy comeback in the moment - her hips rolls into patricks lap. her cunt a fucking vice around his dick. she thinks about you - the friend she shouldn't be thinking about right now. how you're the opposite of her in every way but she likes that - she likes you, alot fucking more than she ever meant to. she thinks about how you let her pay for your coffee in the mornings, how you let her steer you around with a hand at the small of your back, how you're sweet and soft and yielding where she's bitter and sharp and immovable - she thinks of your stupid fucking boyfriend and how he doesn't deserve you and how much it pisses her off to see his hands on you -

"you think he's fucking her right now?" patricks grip on her waist - dragging her up and down on his dick. "like this? in her little dorm bed - making her headboard knock -"

"no -" she snaps - digs her nailbeds into patricks shoulders. he groans at the sting and she rakes them down his flexing arms, feels the muscles tense and release as he moves her over him. "no he's not - she told me - he doesn't fuck her right. fucking douchebag- he can't. he can't make her cum -"

it makes her want to shake you. when you'd told her like it was something you'd come to terms with. an 'oh well, I'll never enjoy sex' moment. it makes her so fucking mad. you're beautiful. he should be touching you every day, worshipping you - making you break apart and sob and beg for it.

"but you could."

god, she can't help it. she nods when patrick says it. agrees fervently by fucking her pussy down on his cock like shes ravenous for it - she could, she fucking knows she could. she's good at everything, the fucking best, she'd have you seeing god in minutes if she got her hands on you -

"you could make that little pussy cum -"

"shit, yeah -" her ass bounces off his thighs. she's so close. can feel it building. any reservations about talking about you during sex are gone. it feels to fucking good to pretend right now. she digs her hands in patricks hair - through the thick tuffs of it, licks into his open mouth - dirty and wet - "you'd fucking like to see that, huh? fucking fetishist."

there's no heat behind it though - really the thought of him watching her fuck you has her clit throbbing. patricks hands come around to grip her ass, palming the globes ",m'not watching -" he yanks her down on his cock fully, rolls her against his pelvis, right fucking there, she's so close - "I'm fucking her too, baby. can't stand seeing her boyfriend touch her but you'd watch me bounce her on this dick -"

she cums. pulsing around him at the image - imagines watching that little pussy of yours stretched the fuck out around her boyfriends cock - kissing away your tears - tonguing the place where he splits you open just to blow your fucking mind - oh, yeah. she wants it. she wants it so fucking bad. and right now, she can admit that to herself.

[hvneybuckin]

tashi duncan (mentions art donaldson & patrick zweig.)

afab!reader, stanford!tashi, stanford!reader, tashi records during the act, it's implied that she's sending the recording to artpatrick, strap-ons, artpatrick have a thing for you and tashi knows it

18+. mdni

690 words

from aiden — this one is for my lovely gal kaia @kisses4kaia !! if not for her this one would have never came to fruition 😌

Competition is a big part of tennis, and tennis is Tashi’s life— so it’s no surprise that she’s a sucker for, well…competition. 

Almost everything she does has some kind of competitive undertone to it. ‘Everything’ including you. 

It wasn’t that hard to get you hooked (really, it wasn’t), and she did it right under Art and Patrick’s noses. 

Their liking for you was obvious, obvious enough for her to catch on to it the moment they walked up to you. The way they’d constantly interrupt each other to get your attention. Patrick’s poor excuses of flirting, Art’s rambling about how he admires your technique— all of which to be expected from the pair. However, what really interested her was you. 

So much so that after they walked away, Tashi quickly took their place. “They’re annoying, I know.”

“Who, Patrick and Art?” You look towards the direction they walked with a shrug, “I dunno. They’re cute, though.” She nods in response. 

It’s not like she can deny it.

“You’re Tashi, right? Tashi Duncan?” She nods for the second time, you making yourself familiar in return. 

After that, the two of you never really stopped talking. Of course, you were close with Art and Patrick — annoying as they were —, but you and Tashi were kind of inseparable.

Even when Patrick makes some gross remark, saying that he “wouldn’t be surprised if you guys had fucked.” 

You unfortunately miss Tashi’s grin afterwards, her expression hidden behind the shared can of beer the four of you passed around. 

And of course, once it’s just you two in your dorm, you don’t shut up about it. Not because it’s been on your mind ever since Patrick said it, definitely not because thinking about it has you making a mess of your panties.

No, never that. 

Only because— “It was so absurd! He’s such a weirdo sometimes, I swear.” Tashi doesn’t speak, but instead shrugs, her legs held close to her chest. She gives you a look, one that you could recognize anywhere. 

“…What?” 

“Hm?”

“Tash. I know that look. Tell me what you’re thinking about.” She giggles with a slight shake of her head. It’s obvious that whatever’s on her mind, she’s hesitant to make it known.

“I’m not thinking about anything. Just— I mean… would it really be that big of a deal if we did? Fuck, I mean.”

You respond with blinks. And then you realize exactly what Tashi had just said. 

“No. It wouldn’t be, I don’t think so.”

“I don’t think so, either.” 

And so, it isn’t. It’s not a big deal when you’re both sitting there in silence. It’s not a big deal when she moves forward to kiss you, your back hitting the roughness of the carpeted floor. 

However, once her dick – albeit fake – is buried in you, you begin to think that this might be larger than the two of you anticipated. 

Can you even be bothered to care when she’s fucking you this good, though? 

In fact, it doesn’t even concern you that she’s recording the entire thing on her old flip phone. 

“Who’s got you this wet, huh?”

You should have known she was gonna say some snarky shit like this, but a pathetic whine slips past your swollen lips nevertheless, Tashi’s own curling into a cruel grin. 

“You. Only you, Tash, promise!”

She hums in response, her strap (that you didn’t even know she had until she dug it out of her closet) forcing a plethora of mewls out of you. 

“Yeah? Not even Art? Or Patrick?” You swiftly shake your head no— the action contradicting how you let out an exceptionally lewd moan at the mention of the two boys.

Tashi snickers. She knows that they’ll probably replay that part a couple hundred times. 

“Uh-huh. You’re mine now, right, baby?” 

You mindlessly nod in agreement, barely even processing what she had said. 

“Yeah, you are. Smile for the camera, say hi to ‘em.” You know exactly who Tashi’s referring to.

And still, for some reason, you do as she says. You look at the phone in her hand, and fucking wave. 

[darkwaveho]

Damage Control

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

Parings: Mob!Natasha Romanoff x Reader

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

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

Damage Control Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Absolutely not!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t mean that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nat”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, Nat you’re not listening…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[sunsburns]

el oh el i watched it again and i cant tell if i i want tashi to be my bfffl (best friend forever for life) or if i wanna make out with her SOS

i mean who says you can’t do both?

hear me out, drunken mistakes happen all the time! even though both of you were still pretty sober and blamed your few drinks (1 drink) at an end-of-summer frat party.

the both of you had slipped into the party and made a beeline straight to the kitchen where the drinks were. neither of you knew whose house it was or who you might find. but tashi promised free drinks and you had nothing better to do.

the two of you mixed whatever you could find into solo cups, barely reading labels and giggling as you did so. when you asked tashi if you’d both get kicked out for crashing the party, she shut you up pretty quickly by pushing your cup to your lips, “only if we get caught. now shut up and drink!”

and once that disaster of a mixture gets down your sputter and shove tashi away. “tastes like fucking shit,”you scoff, looking for something to wash it down with while she laughs behind you.

“you’re just a little pussy,” you’d hear her say, and when you turn around you spot her drowning down her cup and crushing it in her hands while she furrows her brows. “it’s not that bad.”

you roll your eyes, pouring tap water into your cup and perching yourself up on the counter, legs swinging. “you don't need to lie, tash. i’ll still think you’re cool.”

she sets you with a look that has you biting back a smile, the teasing tone in your voice not lost on her. tashi starts to pour other things back into her cup again; mixing whatever she finds because she swears that if the drink looks pretty it should taste good.

“you’re adding milk?”

“it’ll turn it pink.”

“that’s digusting.”

“you’re digusting.”

you snort, “if you wake up with food poisoning, don’t ask me to unclog the toilet again.”

she hums at your words, moving the bottles out of her way and taking your cup out of your hands, careful not to spill it as you huff in protest. her hands replace your cup with hers before they find your thighs, warm palms smoothing over the skin as she stares at you. “drink.”

“no fucking way.”

“if i get food poisoning, you should too. we’re a team, remember?”

you laugh, putting the cup down. “that doesn’t correlate outside the court.”

“doesn’t it?” tashi groans playfully, and she drags you closer by the legs, grinning as you squeak when she steps between them. she seems proud of herself when she realizes that she’s tall enough to look you in the eye despite your higher seat.

her eyes drop to your dress, and she tugs at the hem of it, light and playful.

“cute dress,” she tells you.

“you like it?” you raise your brows.

she nods, “you look real pretty. but were you ever going to ask before you took it out of my closet or...?”

“oh, yeah,” you say sarcastically, “i was going to ask right after you gave me my skirt back.”

tashi fucking giggles, her breath frosting against your lips before she looks down. “fuck, okay, yeah. fair enough.” she clears her throat and looks at you again, tucking her hair out of her face. there’s a tug at the corner of her lips you recognize, and she’s leaning closer until her nose brushes along the line of your own when she speaks.

“i’m so drunk, right now,” tashi smiles, the glint in her eyes telling you that she's up to something. she reaches up and cups your cheek, “you’re so pretty,” she murmured, voice soft. “my pretty best friend.”

“you’ve had one drink, tash,” you remind her.

“shh. just play along. you’re drunk, too, remember?” she brings her finger to your lips. “sooo drunk.”

“totally drunk.”

“drunk enough to kiss me?”

you raise your brows, catching the way she’s staring at you. a similar look to the one she holds on the court when you stand at the other side of the net. she’s challenging you. though, she’s trying to hide it with her playful smile.

“fuck yeah, i’m so drunk right now.”

you think you kissed her first, pressing yourself forward until you closed the small space between you both, lips parted and searching. her hands quickly reach under the skirt of your (her) dress, curling around the space where your underwear meets your inner thighs.

tashi’s bottom lip slides between yours, and you sigh into her. she presses harder against your lips, the mixed flavours of the shitty drinks you’ve shared changed through heavy breaths and explored tongues.

your hand pulls on her neck, bringing her closer. she groans in reply and her eyes squeeze shut at the feel of you bringing one of your legs higher around her hip, one of her hands following your moment until her fingers grip under your knee and attach you to her, nails digging your soft skin.

she curses into the kiss when she tries pulling you even closer but knocks over a couple of cups and bottles, its contents spilling on the counter and dripping onto the floor. she kisses away your giggles, teeth meeting clumsily.

you pull away and smooth a hand over her hair, a smile growing on her lips when you notice she's still chasing after your lips with eyes shut closed.

“is this like...” you’re almost moaning against her lips, “this is a totally normal thing, right?”

tashi nods quickly, breathless, “totally normal.”

“mm, yeah, i thought so,” you say, “friends think their friends are pretty. friends kiss each other all the time.”

“oh my god, shut the fuck up.”

[ilovecatilinclark]

Teasing

Natasha Cloud x Reader

based of this request!

Previous Part

AN: I hope this is okay thank you for the request!

It has been some weeks after Tash took you out on a date and you have been constantly texting her since. Even during practices you would constantly take a break just to text her back. An clearly your teammates have noticed, with the obvious hits of you always blushing from her text. Or you always rushing to go to your phone during break.

You were in the gym early for a early practice you were practicing with your my mind still thinking about tash. Soon becky called break you quickly rushed to your phone to respond back. You opened your phone and grabbed your water bottle seeing a text message from Tash. As you responded you felt your cheeks heating up just texting her. Aja came up to you and peeked at your phone viewing a bit of your messages. As she peeked at your phone seeing you and Tash's message. She said loudly "ooh someones got a crush" your cheeks soon turned quite red. " Atleast you get to see her today" Jackie chimed in with the teams teasing.

While you were texting her, she was in her hotel room waiting for Kahleah to finish getting ready to go out for breakfast. She was waiting for your reply till all the sudden Brittney came in the room screaming with Diana Taurasi about how hyped she is about the game. Till Tash gets a vibration and he opens her phone smiling, it was obvious who she was texting you. As Brittney soon saw how her teammates face and whole attitude changed, she loudly said "ooh someones texting there girlfriend". "Shut up dawg" she said while still being flustered.

Soon after some hours later you and her both met up and you guys went out to grab some food. Of course she paid as she didn't want you to waste a penny. As you soon realized it was about time to go back you told her you were going too go back too rest up. But she told you she could bring you to go with her to her hotel. As it wasn't far away and you complied. Soon it was time to head to arena and do the tunnel. As you guys both went together you were both spotted by some fans and both your teams.

You dragged Tash with you quickly trying to avoid your team and there teasing. As you dragged her you didn't know you were gonna walk into the tunnel .With cameras flashing and you and her both hand in hand. You quickly let go of her hand but once you let go she grabbed it back and whispered in your ear "just follow along" as she guided you with her and kept her hand held with yours. As you were both the first one to walk out even though that was supposed to happen. Soon as you reach the end you waved her a goodbye and walked into your locker room.

As you were getting ready you heard more of your teammates walking in. Before you could utter a word Kelsey ran up to you and asked you "Omg y/n are you Tash official now" you froze and quickly shook your head. "No were only just friends right now" you said blush creeping on to you. "Sure your not" Jackie replied back to you "guys just focus on getting ready" you said trying to shut down anything they said about you and her.

As the game started you saw her at the bench winking at you as you were wiping off sweat. You knew you were gonna turn as red as a tomato if you kept looking and you turned your head and tried to find your water before you join back the game again. Soon the game ended, you were panting and felt disgusting and sweaty. But before you could go back to your own chair to grab your towel she came up to you and helped you wipe of the sweat.

You knew what was coming, you heard Kate pointing at your interaction with Tash towards your team mates and they were all laughing while taking photos of the sweet interaction. As you were chatting and looking at her you saw her team mates also snapping photos. Soon before you knew it both your team mates were awing at your interaction and chanting for you guys to kiss. Before one thing led to another she grabbed your face and kissed you passionately. Kissing you softly as you melted into her touch, relaxing into the kiss and holding her face.

[lattesparkles]

Ok, not to be “controversial” but like..

Seeing “Seven” still be number one when it’s one of the most generic sounding pieces of music I’ve ever heard come out of JK is… disappointing to say the least.

[aphroditesdoll]

potential [s.m]

18+

music: lurk by the neighborhood “better just go with the flow”

pairing: shane mccutcheon x hyper femme reader

warnings: slightly toxic, fingering, cunnilingus, reader crying before sex, rough kissing, lip biting.

summary: seeing shane out, and lying to you brings back some memories. some very 18+ ones!

a/n: definitely planning to make this into mutiple parts! i already love the inspo. (why can this woman never commit)

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ ⋆ ˚｡⋆˚

“shane’s serious this time,” your long time friend alice gossiped, “plus that girl burnt down her place.” alice looked at you as she finishes her sentence anticipating your reaction. you didn’t know that story. shane told you it was an accident. “i didn’t know that, shane said a heater was left on, she lied.” you muttered to alice, not that anyone was your at table. maybe the disbelief that shane would lie to you, her roommate, her supposed best friend. alice looked away and back to you quickly, that one glance shared that means “shut the fuck up”, shane walked into the planet, leaving you slightly dumbfounded just hoping she wouldn’t come to your table.

“did you invite her out today?” you interrogate alice, “no but look, she’s meeting some girl.” alice burst out, “probably another hookup” you contemplate catching a glance but choose your own peace instead. “i’m gonna go get ready for our workout! see you there?” you ask, grabbing your leather bag, and fixing your skirt before standing up and making your way out. “yeah me and tash will be there!” she hollered back, as you leave the planet towards your apartment, it’s only about a ten minute walk.

you’re used to the busy city you’ve lived in for three years now, the walk is routine for you, but this is all so different, your mind floods with demands of ‘how long has she known her’, ‘have they already hooked up’, ‘what does she have over her’, to feeling mad, your fists clench at the thought of them doing everything you’ve heard her do before, and it stays with you every time you hear her fuck some random girl, your mind is focused on one thing the way shane uses women, why would she ever do that, why would she let them use her like that, eventually the thoughts slow down and you start to remember the way you truly feel about her behind any anger you have for her.

tears fill in your eyes making it hard to see, the tears bubble up and destroy any sense of vision you once had, it’s just not meant to be for you rings over and over in your mind.

two months ago

shane’s voice rings in the back of your head “why does it even matter to you?” she reminded, you knew she was right, even when you came out of your bedroom, angry, because “she can’t even respect you enough not to fuck these girls in your house”, to shane responded those words. why those fucking words. shane analyzed your face, seeing the tears starting to bubble up, your lips start to pout, her expression goes soft, she takes your face in her hands, caressing your cheek lightly with her thumb, you stare into her eyes seeing exactly why every girl does falls in love with her, how could you not? her green eyes scanning yours, looking for any kind of reassurance you know how sorry she is. “‘m so sorry, sorry- i’m so sorry sweetheart” she fumbles through her words her voice almost as shaky as yours now, “i know. i know you- you don’t mean to hurt me.” you mumble through yours too, and smash your lips into hers, it’s not a pretty kiss, it’s one you desperately need, pulling her in by her shirt.

she kisses you back, breathing heavily through each kiss you plaster on her lips, her hands float around your body before you notice and slide them down your back to your ass, shane quickly grabs a handful before she goes back to your hand, intertwining your fingers before she stops the kiss, “mmh” you mumble, opening your eyes to her puppy eyes, god she’s so beautiful when she’s lustful. “i don’t know if we should.” she states taking steps around you, leading you with her, still facing you, eyes locked with yours following every move you make, when you look at her lips she stares at yours, “please.” you plead before she nods and takes you down the white painted hallway.

you pull her in, begging to be kissed, to be touched. you kiss her gently this time, tenderly, sliding your tongue around hers, opening your eyes every few seconds because it’s so hard to believe. her hands finds their place on your ass again, gripping roughly, taking in all of you, one quick “can i?” before she slips her fingers in your shorts, rubbing her slim fingers against your clit, sliding them out to grab your jaw to forcing you to open wide, sliding her fingers in, and back down your shorts, her fingers going in circles as she slobbers pretty kisses all over your neck, boobs, and face, speeding up with each kiss she places, her pace rough.

she feels your walls clench, and can’t resist, she easily slids one finger in, watching your reaction before sliding another one in, soft pretty moans leave your lips, shane’s getting off on giving you pleasure, and she wants you to feel all of her potential. she’s secretly been waiting for this. before you can open your eyes from the shock of her fingers still in you, her pace going between gentle and rough, she wants to taste you more than anything.

she gets down on her knees hungrily pulling your cute pj shorts down, throwing them to the side, taking your thighs over her shoulders before she connects her mouth with your wet pussy, eating you out like her life depends on it, instantly sending you into orbit, moaning your way through her intense sucking and licking, moaning so loud you’ve never heard yourself like this before, “s-s-shane oh my god,” shane’s fingers still thrusting in you, you think you could collapse when you feel your insides clench, shane smirks against your mount chuckling before she speeds up, making it impossible not too start shaking all of it is so intense, you can feel it building up “don’t stop.” you whimper at her, she responds by sliding her tongue up and down your lips, hands gripping at your thigh as you let it all go, covering her chin, and nose in your cum, you shake as her gently drops your thighs, pulling herself to your lips, kissing you roughly, biting your bottom lip, “been keeping this from me the whole time?” she teased, her voice low and breathy.

“not just from you, from myself too,” “i didn’t know i could sound like that” you giggle leaning into her neck, she laughs back, “i guess i just bring those sounds out of you” she chuckles and laughs again before you playfully push her.

she leads you to the shower where she cleans you off, and you help her, staying in the rest of the night watching some of your favorite movies, having one of the most romantic nights with her.

the next day, she brought another girl home and made her moan the same way she made you.

you cried on that day and today. luckily, today brought a twisted idea to your head. the plan is to..

a/n: thank you for readin’ sexy 🤭 i love writing shane when i’m bored, and i have a whole plan with this part, and the next, so please let me know how you like this one!

[drurrito]

Carry You Home

A/N: LISTEN I JUST WANNA SAY I'M SORRY I PROMISE I USUALLY DO HAPPY ENDINGS. IT'S SORTA HAPPY RIGHT?? RIGHT????

Pairings: Natasha x Reader...kinda...

Warnings: Major Character Death (I'm sorry); blood; general angstiness

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

Clint stops just before the kitchen, you don’t make a move to acknowledge him until he calls your name.

“She’s here,” he breathes, his fingers tap-tapping against the door frame. You’re already a hair away from him by the time he draws a second breath to ask, “are you sure you want to do this?”

“I’m doing this no matter what,” you bite, Clint only nods.

“I’m taking her home,” you push past his frame, and he watches you go for a split second before he’s trailing you all the way to Banner’s office. You’ve made your choice, there’s not much else he can do about it.

Bruce is quick to stop you just before his lab, Sam is there as well and Clint rounds the corner to join them. Their eye contact is brief, doing a piss-poor job of trying to hide their sorrowful looks. Clint already gave them a rundown of what's going to happen. You’re going in alone and leaving with Natasha’s body. You’re taking her home. 

Clint shares a look with Bruce, and he steps aside to let you in. The frigid air hits you hard, you squeeze your eyes shut for a few seconds, taking a deep breath to acclimate to the drop in temperature.

Then you see Natasha. She’s still wearing her suit, tattered and stained with her blood. Her braid is a little messier than usual, but it’s still intact. Her body is incredibly stiff and her eyes…oh god her eyes are open. You steady yourself with a shuddering breath and reach out to graze her cheek with the tips of your fingers.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” you start. Her eyes are dull, it’s like looking into a now empty home that was once full of life and memories. Your throat burns terribly as you delicately brush your fingers over her eyelids. 

“Remember when we talked about what life was going to look like after the Avengers? You wanted a quiet retirement party and I wanted one that was big enough to rival Gatsby,” you laughed. Retirement was the furthest thing from your mind for a long time until Natasha sold you on it one night after a long mission. You would have agreed to anything just by the way her nails danced along your skin that night. 

“I bought your dream home, our dream home,” you whisper, “closed on it just last month,” your fingers try to glide through her hair, catching on knots and dirt. She’ll need a bath before her burial, you note. 

“Nothing grand, I know you wanted something quaint and low-key with a white picket fence,” you choke back a sob, “I already got us a few animals. Some geese, a pig, a black goat named Liho, just like you wanted.”

Natasha always talked about wanting to move somewhere in the countryside. A decent sized cottage. “Cabin,” you would cough and she’d elbow you to stay quiet. A cottage with a lot of land, a barn full of animals that she hand-picked herself, minus the pig and goat you probably begged her to keep at some point. You’d both spend your days taking care of the animals and diving headfirst into hobbies you can only keep up with for about a month or two before deciding maybe you’re the kind of couple who just likes something simple, like puzzles. 

When you came back with the second snap, you were met with a look on Clint’s face that said everything, but you had to ask.

“Where’s Tash?” 

You snap back to reality with a shudder. Your vision now blurry with tears. 

“I’m gonna take you home, Tash,” you suck in a shaky breath. She’s heavy in your arms as you walk through the halls of the compound to take her to her final resting place.

Home.

[natashatrace]

“Long fucking day,” Rooster mutters, clinking his glass against Phoenix’s where it sits on the bar.

“He pulled my papers.” “Why would he do that?”

Phoenix hums, nodding a little without looking over. Her eyes stay fixed on the thin napkin underneath her glass, thumb catching over the rim and pushing through the salt in a couple short, quick passes.

“Did you write me a note, Natasha?” “No. I wrote down my room number.”

Natasha snorts out a laugh, exhaling and bringing her thumb to her lips. Her tongue catches against the callus on her fingertip as she licks the salt away, quickly knocking back half of the top-shelf margarita she’d ordered in one go.

Bradley has an eyebrow raised when she finally does meet his eyes. Grinning, he tilts his head and says, “Well. Pray tell, Phoenix. What’re we drinkin’ about?”

Phoenix turns on her barstool, knees knocking against Rooster’s. She rests both hands on his thighs, squeezing his legs in reassurance as she explains, “You remember when I told you I’d hooked up with an older guy during fleet week?”

“Years ago,” Bradley nods, brows drawing together. “Yeah. I remember. You wouldn’t shut up about him for weeks. Why?”

Phoenix pats one of Rooster’s legs. “I’m very sorry for what I’m about to put you through.”

“Huh?”

“I’m Maverick.” “Oh, I’ve heard of you.” “Good things, I hope.” “Impossible things. I’m hoping they’re all true.”

“Bradley,” Phoenix says slowly, carefully. “I hooked up with Maverick.”

Three things happen in quick succession:

Bradley’s smile drops, he breathes out a sigh, and then he proceeds to empty his glass of whiskey in one swallow.

“Please tell me you’re lying.”

Phoenix covers her mouth with her hand to hide the way she’s smirking. Judging by the narrowing of Bradley’s eyes, it doesn’t work. “Nope.”

“Natasha. Oh my god. Jesus, are you — you gave me very explicit details about that hookup.”

“I think it’s cosmic payback for all the times I’ve had to listen to you go on and on about Hangman’s perfect dick.”

“It’s not even that good,” Bradley refutes, looking away, blushing a deep red.

Phoenix sips at her margarita. “You’re a bad fucking liar.”

Bradley pinches at the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “So you fucked my godfather. What the fuck, Tash.”

“For the record, I’m still on your side,” she says, thinking back to their earlier conversation on the tarmac. “But I also think you need to know, in the interest of best friend honesty, that I’m a little swayed by his absolutely perfect —“

“If you finish that sentence, I’m getting a new best friend.”

“Like you could ever replace me,” Phoenix huffs. She waves a hand toward the bartender across the room and asks, “You want another drink?”

Bradley’s answer is immediate. “Several.”

[romanoffsgal]

Hotcakes and Love.

A/n: i’m back and i would be posting a series soon. I love Nat and this one is soft.

Summary: Mornings and warm hotcakes with Nat.

Warnings: none

Nat x fem!reader fluff

I always hated mornings, i was not a morning person, worse was the fact that i could not fucking sleep at night thanks to the nightmares that didn’t stop chasing me. But she made it different.

I got up and went to the kitchen, i wanted to make something for her, i hoped i didn’t make a noise, she was a fucking spy. Jeez.

I pulled off some ingredients and made up hotcakes, she liked them, i liked them and i wanted her to have something nice, she was the most beautiful human being on earth she deserved nice things.

I made her coffee and went back to bed with all the food.

When i came in, she was confused, even scared, i could see it on her face, her eyes were looking everywhere, and when they laid on me, she softened.

“Hey” she said with a shy smile and all her hair messed up.”where were you?”

“Nat, i was making you breakfast” you smiled, your heart was beating hard, you could not believe she loved you.

“Oh” that’s what she said, she was not used to this, i wasnt either, it made my head spin around i really didn’t knew what i was doing but it felt nice so i just stopped thinking. “i thought you left” she said.

“Why would i? Do you want me to?” i asked shyly.

“No!” she almost shouted “please don’t leave, stay.” she said and made me come over with all the food in hands. She was not looking at me, and i got worried, this was always a challenge.

“Малыш, ты хорошо?” (Baby you okay?) i asked sitting down in her bed. She didn’t wanted to look at me. I watched her and cupped both of her cheeks “what’s wrong Tash?” she looked at you now, eyes full of tears wanting to leave her beautiful green eyes.

“Nothing, i thought you left, i didn’t saw you when i woke up, and i got worried, i thought that i did something wrong, and-“ you shut her up, kissing her lips, while she grabbed your arms, pulling you closer, ending it putting you foreheads together smiling like freaking childs, again.

“Nat, i’m not him, i would never leave you, not unless you want me to.” she looked at me and her tears streamed down her face “i’m here. And i would always be here.” you cleaned up her tears, kissed her cheeks, and said “come on, you have to eat, i made them the way you like them.”

She just smiled, got comfortable and started eating, you watched her, you could watch her your whole life and never get bored, whoever who left her, was a fucking coward, she is everything to you.

“what are you looking at weirdo?” she said smirking, pulling you closer to her, grabbing a piece of hotcake and guiding to your mouth “eat some too.” she said while she watched you eat too.

You cuddle up closer to her, and left kisses along her face, she acted annoyed and huffed, but you knew it was all acting, she loved it. You knew that if you dare to pull yourself out of her tight embrace, she would chase you and haunt you down like some savage animal wanting her food, it was her, and you loved it.

Life could be so easy this way, in her arms, with a normal day, a normal life, not thinking too much about what could happend, or think about missions, traumas, childhood and life, im her arms and eating hotcakes all was forgotten, all was forgiven, because it was you and her, all alone again.

[famwhy]

Midnight Gardenias

Tangerine X Reader

Word Count: 3,439

Warnings: cussing, blood, little bit of gore (not too much detail), alcohol

This fic was inspired by the amazing @aeaean--bliss and their fic maybe. Please go check it out if you haven't already - it's a really good read, I promise 🙏

Weeks.

It had been weeks since he last texted. Weeks since he asked where you were. Weeks since you've had any form of contact with him.

Stupid. That's what it was. All of it. It was all so stupid.

Sure, you did kind of tell him to leave but that didn't mean you wanted him to leave your life. Granted, he wasn't a mind-reader but still. He should've used common sense to gauge as much.

Now that he was gone, ironically enough, you were just constantly being tortured with thoughts of him, him, him. Just him.

When you went to the ice cream parlour the other day, a man behind the counter had a tash and you couldn't help but think that Tan's was a hundred times better. Similarly, when you heard a hint of a British accent that sounded more Northern, you compared it to the Brit you knew's accent - quite obviously preferring it over the random man. 

Hell, you couldn't even watch a West Ham game without thinking of him and his stupid socks with the logo printed onto them. West Ham was supposed to be your favourite football team, not something that reminded you of him!

And it was so dumb - it was just so dumb - that you were probably the only one suffering; that your feelings were probably left unreciprocated. It hurt so much. It felt like a giant claw ripped through your flesh to grab at your heart and dig its sharp teeth into it, all-the-while Tan stood there, watching with a scoff of derision, mocking you for falling in love with him like the little shit he was.

Frustration couldn't even begin to describe what you felt towards your whole situation. 

"Dammit, what was I gonna do again?"

Ah, that's right, you were about to watch The Mandalorian.

God, you wished you had a man like Mando. A caring guy who was sort of stand-offish but not to a degree where he was a complete jerk; more so to the perfect degree of optimum mysterious-ness any girl would want in a guy. And the fact that he was a good dad added like, a hundred more attractive points to his list of desirable traits.

But nooo, you just had to get a guy who was so in over his head with every action he did, it was atrocious.

A continuous 'beep!' coming from your fridge had your foggy eyes clear up and scan through the open capsule for what you originally wished to source out. Unfortunately, it was almost completely empty. How wonderful.

"When will life ever go my way?"

With a swing of your arm, you slammed the door shut.

Now, you wished you could say that you saw it coming and were able to move out of the way just in time but— that would just be a lie. It had all happened way too fast.

The wobbling of the fridge as the door shut; the container at the top abruptly being thrown off balance; and the sharp spike of pain that erupted from the top of your scalp.

"Argh! Shit!"

That hurt like a bitch.

As your hand slowly rose up to rub against your poor head, a small 'ding!' came from your phone.

Seemed as though something wanted your attention.

Jerk r u home rn? 12:35 p.m.

What's this? Did someone decide they were suddenly on speaking terms with you again?

The thought had you rolling your eyes.

Jerk Y/N, i don't have time for games 12:37 p.m.

Ha, this was coming from the same guy who just loved to play games with your mind when it came to his feelings.

Just who the hell did he think he was? Going AWOL on you for a couple of weeks just to hit you up with a text at twelve-thirty in the night asking if you were home; as though he didn't just torture you with thoughts on whether or not you messed everything up and caused him to leave you for good; as though he wasn't causing you to lose your fucking mind trying to decipher what the fuck he meant whenever he parted his lips to say something just to not say anything at all; as though he wasn't the only thing on your mind since you first met all that time ago.

Ridiculous. His audacity was utterly ridiculous.

Well... from the looks of things, it seemed like he wasn't going to send another text.

Good riddance.

Him and his pride could go fuck themselves.

Jerk love, please, i need you 12:41 p.m.

He left you alone for weeks without any form of contact, weeks without any sort of apology.

He stepped all over you like a fucking doormat; left your body aching from head-to-toe from the constant rejection; had your eyes bulging out from how desperately you didn't want to give him your tears.

You should hate him.

So then, why...?

...why was it that you found your fingers gliding across the screen as soon as you registered that last text in your head?

He needed you.

He'd never said that before.

Maybe...

Maybe you could—?

You yh, i'm home 12:41 p.m.

No response, just a simple 'read' underneath - of course. Why did you even let yourself hope for anything more?

No sort of elaboration, nothing. Just left you in the dark with no explanation whatsoever for why he asked that question.

Weeks of not talking or contacting you at all and then he just hit you with that. He was probably on his way to freeload off of you right now.

Pathetic. Not just him, but you too. How could you let him bounce off of you like that? He was a fucking leech and you just let him drain you dry.

You almost didn't notice when there was a knock at your door - whoever it was could wait—

—except, no, apparently they couldn't - for, not long after, the knocks turned into several slams done in rapid succession. Those, paired with the migraine you were starting to get for trying to decipher the indecipherable, made for a killer ache inside your head; one that was really starting to grind your gears.

The knocking continued.

"Fucking— I'm coming, alright?!"

You grumbled under your breath, bitter feelings for the man you loved seeping into your current mood; ready to be unfairly unleashed onto the poor individual stood at your door.

"What the fuck do you...?" You trailed off, one hand against the handle of your now-open door, one hand losing its grip on your hip to flop by your side as you gazed on in astonishment.

There, stood before you, was Tangerine. Though, that wasn't what surprised you.

No, instead, what surprised you was the darker patch of blue on his waistcoat and the crimson seeping through his white undershirt, staining it and causing it to look grossly soggy. 

He was hurt.

"Holy shit! You're bleeding."

"Is that so? I didn't fucking notice."

He hissed the sentence out, venom coating his tongue and frustration written clear on his visage - directed straight at you as though you were the one in the wrong here. The fucking audacity.

You parted open your mouth, ready to yell at him through unfiltered lips; burning with bottled up rage that was ready to spill over like a witch's wicked brew in a cauldron when— 

"Argh! Fuck me!"

His knees started to buckle and his legs nearly gave out as he winced, buckling over with both muscular arms wrapping around his gut. The sight was foreign to your eyes. You had never seen him so weak.

"Holy shit," you cussed again, moving to aid him back up.

Of course, him being the stubborn little shit he was, he damn near pushed you away as soon as you offered up help. Luckily, he lost too much blood for the push to actually do anything. 

...was it appropriate to call that lucky?

While you would have loved to ponder your fucked up morality further, the sticky substance that soaked through your fingertips seemed to call for your attention with a higher priority.

"Holy shit—" the cold substance ran down your arm, "—what the fuck? I should call the ambulance at least."

"No."

His voice was stern and abrupt; callous and uncaring. His brows had furrowed so deeply and his expression became near-deadly. He had never looked at you with such animosity before. It caused a pang of pain to shoot through your heart.

Just how much did you not know about this man?

"Argh! Fuckin' 'ell!"

He winced, eyes screwing shut and expression loosening up into one you would describe as more vulnerable than before.

Vulnerable was something you were around him, not the other way around. It felt strange. It felt wrong.

"You gonna let me in or have me fuckin' bleed out 'ere, love?"

"Shit."

Similarly to how he aided you back when you last saw each other - you looped one of his arms around your neck, the cold metal of his rings sending familiar, pleasant shivers down your spine, and helped carry him inside by shifting a majority of his weight onto you. It was almost a little funny how the role reversal came into play. If you were delusional, you might have even called it fate.

Lucky you weren't delusional.

"Jesus-fuckin'-christ," he cussed, anger as prevalent as ever while you slowly laid him down on the soft, plush couch, "can't believe that fucking bastard got me."

The blood was still seeping through his wound, not quite gushing out but certainly leaving an impression on your poor couch.

The wound was huge and utterly ugly. For a moment, you wondered what it would feel like if you had obtained it.

Your heartbeat picked up its pace. Perhaps you shouldn't have imagined that.

"What the fuck? What the fuck?!"

His pained expression wasn't making things any better— just what on Earth did he get himself into?!

"Holy shit! I should call Lemon at least, right?!"

"He's busy."

"He's busy?!" You stared at him, utterly bewildered, "what on earth could he be doing that stops him from helping out his injured brother?!"

He didn't respond, only choosing to grunt as he shifted in his seat.

It was stupid - utterly stupid - that he thought it was perfectly fine to pull up to your house in the middle of the night, crimson seeping out his stomach like a luscious waterfall only seen in fantasy movies, knock on your door, and stumble into your house while denying you the right to call the ambulance - the very organisation that was made to deal with these types of messes!

"Tan, do you know how fucked up this is?!"

He didn't respond again. Whether or not it was on purpose, you were unsure of. That wound was probably hindering his ability to speak but, knowing him, he also probably didn't wish to either.

"Fuck. Okay, okay—" you took in a deep breath through your nose, "—okay. Lemme just..."

Your knees thudded against the ground and your hands reached out, fingertips curling around his now-red, linen shirt.

"How did you even get so hurt in the first place?"

It had been an off-handed comment, whispered as such. You weren't expecting an answer so - when his hand shot to your own and clenched it with such strength, you had gasped and winced - to say that you were surprised would be an understatement.

His grip loosened not long after and your eyes trailed from his wound to his face, making contact with the softened hues that were almost laced in... desperation?

"Love, no."

At first, you thought he was talking about treating his wound - but that didn't make sense. If he didn't want you to treat his wound - to help him - he wouldn't have come to your house in the first place.

No, he must've been talking about your question. Of course he wouldn't want you to know how it happened. What did you expect?

"Fine," you lamented, "I won't pry. Just... let me help you."

He paused for a moment, as if letting the thought load, before ultimately letting go of your hand and leaning back - another wince making its way onto his face.

You took that as a sign to lift his shirt - and boy was it a sight to see.

Luckily, there didn't seem to be any green so it was most likely not infected, meaning he still had a shot to live. The wound was large but you were no medical expert, you had no clue whether or not he could die from it and, quite frankly, you didn't wish to find out.

"What's the ma'er, love? Can't handle a bi' of blood?"

How he had the capacity to be his snarky self while this injured was beyond you.

"No, I've just never seen such..." you trailed off, searching for the word, "...copious amounts of it."

"Ya get used to it after awhile."

Ha, so this wasn't new, was it? Made sense, you were freaking out more than he was and he was the one with the excruciating wound.

"How do I...? How do I treat it?"

He rose a brow. "You don't know how to treat a wound?"

"Hey, I got a degree in law, not medicine."

He grunted, shifting up a little. "D'you have a first-aid kit on ya?"

"Never had the need for one. I have bandages though?"

"No use if the wound i'n't clean." He sighed. "What about alcohol?"

You rose a skeptical brow.

"Not for me— well, it is for me but not in the way you think." He then gave you a pointed look. "I know you have alcohol on ya, you've always 'ad a problem with it."

Perhaps the timing was inappropriate but, you could feel your stomach flutter at the prospect that he remembered such a trait about you.

"Yeah, I've got some in the kitchen."

He nodded and you pushed yourself back onto your feet, gaze trained onto the entrance of your kitchen. 

"Stay here."

"Yeah, well, I'm not fuckin' goin' anywhere, am I?"

"Really? Because with how you've been gone for the past few weeks, I'm inclined to believe that - even with a wound like that - you would get up and leave as soon as I turn my back on you."

His jaw stiffened and you could see it; you could see the urge to talk resting on his tongue. But - like always - he refrained from saying another word.

How disappointing. But then again, not unexpected.

You trudged to the kitchen, bare feet making contact with the cold ground as you stepped upon the white tiles that had slowly gone grey as the years went by, monotonous just like your life once was before you had the pleasure of meeting Tan. You couldn't exactly say you wished to go back to it.

Every day you would wake up, get ready, go to work, go home, then go out. Each time looking for a new guy to latch onto. The colours of your world back then were different to now, you couldn't say they were more vibrant or any less dazzling but you could say they were different. Back when you weren't hung up on a guy who had the balls to show up to your door at midnight with a huge, gaping wound in his stomach.

You tugged yourself away from your thoughts to retrieve the large, glass bottle resting at your top cabinet; fingers lacing around the rim with a certain level of experience only seen in an alcoholic. Many would describe you as one. You would too.

"Alright," you spoke, making your way back towards the male, "I've got it. Now what?"

"What d'you think? Pour it over the wound."

You could go without the snark.

With a roll of your eyes and a small huff, you crouched back down beside him, slowly lifting his shirt and dark waistcoat to once more observe the injury. That thing was really horrible to look at.

As you took the sight in again, his gaze trailed to your phone, still open with the texts you exchanged displayed clearly on the screen, and he rose a brow.

"'Jerk'? You havin' a laugh, love?"

"Yeah. And it's a damn good one too."

He just rolled his eyes.

"I'm serious, Tan. You left me hanging for weeks - almost a month - and then you come knocking on my door at midnight with blood all over you? What the fuck do you want from me?"

"Nothin', I don't—" he winced and let out a grunt as you poured the liquid onto the hole, "—don't want nothin'."

You didn't believe him. Not for a second.

"Really?"

"Look, dahlin', I really don't wanna do this right now."

"Too bad—" you gave him a pointed look, "—because we're doing this. Right here. Right now."

"I just said I don't wanna fuckin' do this."

"Yeah? And I don't give a fuck what you want right now."

"Love— argh! Fuck!— please."

"No, I—"

"Fuckin' 'ell," he cut you off, venom practically hissed through gritted teeth, "are you deaf or some'n? Just close your bloody mouth."

The room fell into dead silence. Not a word was spoken, not a chirp in the air - just the incessant ticking sounds of your clock echoing in the background, reminding you that - though you were going through the most frustrating thing right now - time still moved regardless. No one cared. 

Once again, like the street lamps had back when you were in his car, your lights coated him in that warm blanket of orange. You just wanted to scream at them for being so misleading, for trying to trick your mind into thinking this man was anything but cold and ruthless.

Ha, you were going mad. Wanting to yell at an inanimate object? As if.

You stood abruptly, walking over to a nearby shelf to slide open another cabinet with a roll of gauze inside before silently returning to the couch - sight set on covering his wound. You may have just had an argument, but you were no monster.

Then, he spoke again.

"You changed up the house a bit since I last came."

'Oh, is that so?' you wanted to say, 'who gives a fuck?'

His attempt at a conversation was pathetic. He was pathetic.

'You're pathetic.' you longed to tell him.

But instead, you opted to muttering, albeit a little bitterly, "wanted to spruce the place up a little."

'Anything to distract me from you.'

​​​​​"It's nice." He hummed before going silent.

Your nails then dug into the edge of the gauze, pulling and prodding at it until a corner gave way before you were able to further force it apart.

"Sit up. Away from the armrest." You muttered.

He did so without question or objection.

You then reached around his body - both arms mere centimetres away from embracing his abdomen; breath fanning against his toned chest and nose barely grazing his skin - before sticking the gauze onto his back and winding it around to his front.

"Ya go'a do it a li'le harder than that, love."

You frowned before tugging, with way more force than necessary, and adding, "this hard enough for ya?"

His wince made way for a small, fleeting feeling of satisfaction to blossom in your chest. A small bit of revenge for the acres of pain he had caused you these past couple of weeks.

Served him right.

You didn't say a word when you were done, didn't even give a snide look that would blatantly tell him what you were thinking. Just pulled away, one hand clenching tightly around the gauze, one hand reaching out for your phone.

He only spoke again when you reached the door frame, hand placed on it in the same position as his once was, back facing him and eyes trained on your staircase.

"For what it's worth, love, I really am sorry."

Yeah. You were too.