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burning-omen · 7 months

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Kinktober Day 9: Detective x Criminal + Spider-Noir

Spider-Noir x male reader

Kinktober 2023 List | Day 1 | Day 10

Summary: He’s playing mind games with you, you know he is.

Warning: reader is the Black Cat of the universe, getting tied up, lowkey cringe villian reader but it’s like the 1940’s so they get a pass cuz it’s a little camp, breaking and entering, stalking, reader being naked, no smut (during kinktober? shocking I know)

You didn't like being tied up. Well, maybe. Just not in this context. You prided yourself on having never been caught, but as you are now, your arms bound to your sides, hanging upside down from a lamp post, you could feel that pride going down the drain. Glancing over you could see a few of the guys that were helping you rob some high-end jewelry store.

You usually worked alone, but the owner of the store was friendly with the police and if anyone was going down for this one, it'd be them. That's what you had planned at least, before being captured by a familiar spider themed vigilante.

You could see his figure, shrouded in black, crouching down next to them, they were all tied together, back to back to back on the floor. You almost began to wonder why you were getting special treatment, then you remembered your claws and the chase that lead to you being in this position in the first place. He considered you a threat. Which made sense, considering what you'd done to the front of his little suit. You had just barely missed him, only able to swipe at the vest he wore beneath his coat before the chase began. Still, it cut through as though you were swiping at air, you figured that he would rather not find out what they felt like cutting through flesh.

It was a while before he came to you, crouching down so that he could meet your eyes. Despite being upside down and having his face covered by a mask.

“Cat,” he said sternly.

“Mr. Spider-Man.” you returned with a grin, “you caught me.”

“So I did, ‘ that mean you're gonna comply?”

“Not a chance.”

A careful, slow breath left the man. Coming in closer, he spoke again.

“Those guys already gave you up, Cat, you really think you can get out of this one?”

You thought for a moment, or at least pretended to before another large grin broke out on your face.

“I can get out of anything. So what if these low lives try to pin this whole thing on me, I've got a few things they don't that absolve me of any blame,” you said confidently.

He let out a low laugh, just for a second before asking,

“And what's that?”

“Well I've got a secret identity, I've got an alibi-” you paused for a moment, flexing your clawed fingers before continuing, “and, unlike those guys, I got away.”

Without sparring a moment you shredded the binds, effectively freeing yourself, twisting onto your back to keep yourself from banging your head on the concrete below. You were on the ground for less than a second before you were on your feet again and breaking into a sprint, you didn't check to see if he followed you, scaling up the side of a brick building and running along its roof before jumping to the next one, then the next, then the next until you felt tired, sliding to a stop.

~~~~~~

As you landed on the window sill of your apartment, you decided definitively that you needed a long, long bath, despite the fact that you got away, you were still trapped by the Spider-Man. That was a step closer to prison than you'd ever like to be.

Sliding the window open you were greeted by your pitch black apartment, just how you left it. Despite the dark, you navigated flawlessly, making your way to the living room, walking towards your front door, and collecting the newspaper and mail off the floor, the mail slot in your door shining a small beam of light from the hallway.

Finally flicking on the light as you flipped through your mail, heading towards the kitchen. Leaning up against the counter as you muttered to yourself.

“Bills, bills, trash, rent-” you stopped on an invitation to an art exhibit, specifically a jewelry art exhibit, ‘displaying pieces new and old’, how wonderful. What was even better was the price of the tickets, nearly 300 each, you couldn't afford to go, not legally, but you’re sure that plenty of wealthy people with deep pockets and easily accessible wallets would be there, along with the jewelry itself. With a small smile, you set the invitation down on the counter, you could look at it again later.

Before you could even register what was written on the next envelope, a voice spoke from behind you- in a moment you would never admit to, you jumped, a small yelp emitting from you, your heart pounding heavily.

Turning quickly, you were face to face with Spider-man, leaning on the other side of the counter, the invitation you just set down in his hands.

“‘We humbly invite you, Shara Jamison, to the Exhibition of Art Through Jewelry on-’”

You quickly snatched the invitation from his hand, slamming it on the counter.

“Breaking into people's houses is illegal.” you said, glaring at the man.

“You left your window open”

Setting your mail down, you could feel the familiar feeling of irritation growing.

“Caught twice in one night, Cat, I think you're losing your touch.”

Walking past him and back into the living room, you tried to think of a plan, but as Spider-Man followed you- so close behind, your mind seemingly stopped working.

“I'm not losing anything, you're just stalking me, how would you feel if I followed you home, hmm, Mr. Spider-Man?”

He didn’t respond, turning, you saw him- once again, going through your mail.

“Will you stop that?” You snatched the stack from him and threw it on the couch.

Breathing out a frustrated sigh, you said,

“What do you want?”

“Y/n L/n.”

You paused, taking in a breath you said, “what?”

“That’s your name right? It's on all your- well, most of your mail.”

Resisting the deep urge to roll your eyes into oblivion you said,

“So what if it is?”

“So..” he started, “you've got no secret identity, no alibi, and no, you didn't get away.”

You tried not to react, in over 5 years of masked theft you've never been caught, not once, you've never even been a suspect, but here you were, quite literally out a places to hide, he knew where you lived, you didn't have friends so you had no where to lay low, he knew who you were, and he's even got you cornered in your own home.

“Good job, detective, you gonna take me to jail?” despite the playful tone you'd taken up, you were nervous, the police didn't like Spider-Man, but you’re sure they'd appreciate him bringing in a criminal like you.

“No.”

You didn't mean to sigh. You really wanted to remain unfazed, but god, you couldn't. You felt like a massive weight had been lifted off your shoulders by the same person who had put it there.

“Why not?”

He chuckled, “I like this, I like you, gives me something to do.”

You laughed, “This is why the cops don't like you.”

After a short pause he said, “Stay safe out there, Cat.”

“I’ll think about it.”

He left after that, through the same window he’d come through. Leaning against the window sill you watch him swing away. Your heart pounding in your ears as he disalearedcinyo the night.

You didn't sleep much that night, his words replaying in your mind over and over again.

‘I like this, I like you..’

You rolled over, pulling the cover up over your shoulders. You weren’t some toy made for his entertainment, you were a thief and a really fucking good one. His words shouldn’t be effecting you the way they were, you were enemies. You fought, hell you nearly slashed his chest open tonight. But he ‘likes you’, sure…

This was some elaborate ploy to get you to turn yourself in, you knew it was.

He was trying to play mind games with you, but you were better at them than he was.

~~~~~~

It’s been two weeks since you’ve been out, a new personal record on your part. Not stealing for two whole weeks! You patted yourself on the back, even through you skin itches and your fingers twitched every time you saw something valuable. But you couldn’t, you were playing the long game with the Spider-Man, you weren’t going to break character now.

You took the bus home from work, getting dropped off a few blocks from your apartment, it started pouring rain about halfway through your walk, soaking your clothes. You hated the rain. You knew it was going to rain, you could smell it in the air, and you could have stolen an umbrella from the rack in the break room, but that’s not what a good upstanding citizen does, so you suffered through the rain, dragging yourself to your apartment, up several flights hold stairs before finally reaching your apartment.

The pitch black scene was comforting, dropping your suitcase on the floor, hearing it thumb loudly. Peeling back layer of soaked clothes and dropping them into a pile.

You felt a million times lighter.

Heading to you bedroom, only flicking the light on when you were inside to find a change of clothes. Bundling them in your arms then flicking the light back off. Heading back to the living room you remembered the pile of wet clothes on the floor, flipping the light switch on, the living room illuminated quickly, everything was exactly as you left it. Well, except for the imposing black figure sitting on your couch. Spider-man. He was deadly silent, seemingly frozen. You stared at him, confused, before remembering the state you were in. Naked.

You weren’t shy, not even a little bit, but you definitely weren’t expecting to be nude in front of people, especially Spider-Man, who was seemingly shocked into silence.

“Breaking and entering is a crime, Spider-Man.”

Nothing.

“Really? You break into my house and you have nothing to say to me?”

Nothing again.

You sighed, walking over to the man, dropping your clothes next to him on the couch before plopping down yourself.

“Earth to Spider-Man? Can you hear me?”

He turned to face you.

“Y/n…” he muttered.

“Yes?”

He cleared his throat, “you're, um.. I just. I was-”

You nodded along to his blabbering, a teasing smile on your face. It took him a moment to figure his words out, but he got it eventually.

“I was...checking on you. You've been missing for a while now, I just wanted to make sure you weren't hurt.”

“Well,” you gestured to your naked body, “as you can see, there's not a scratch nor bruise on me.”

He shifted in his seat, staring for a long moment before looking away.

You grinned, “what's wrong, detective, never seen a man naked before?”

He took a deep breath, then said, “I'm sorry, you should get dressed.”

You hummed, “No, it's fine, I'm comfortable.”

“Cat..” he practically whined.

“Fine, fine, I'll go. You stay here, don't move.”

You were going to use the clothes you gathered after taking a shower, but Spider-Man’s delicate sensibilities called for your immediate coverage.

So you went to your room, peeking out at him through the door, only to see him sitting there, stiff as a board, dressed quickly, and sat back down on the couch next to him as though you hadn't been naked minutes before.

“You going straight, Cat?”

You hummed, “Why would you think that?”

“You got a 9-5, you haven't been out at night, and your gang says you haven't returned their calls.”

“So what, you're stalking me now?”

He didn't respond.

It was kinda cute, he's been following you around, harassing your gang, and he broke into your house again, but seeing you naked is too personal. Poor thing’s got his morals in a twist.Maybe these weren't mind games, or some elaborate scheme, maybe he really did just like you, he wouldn't be the first to obsess over you and he probably wouldn't be the last.

Sighing, you said, “You don't have to worry, I'm quitting tomorrow.”

He turned to you quickly, “Really?”

“Yes, really, besides, I know a better way of making money.”

He paused for a moment, “You're coming back?”

“I was just taking a little break, you know I can't go straight forever. As soon as this rain stops I'm back to my old ways.”

He laughed, then relaxed back against the couch.

“You really missed me that much?”

“Like you wouldn't believe.”

You laughed, scooting a bit closer to the man.

“I missed you too, turns out regular people don't get to copulate with Spider-Man on a nightly basis.”

“That does not mean what you think it does..”

“What?” you grinned, “copulate? Would you rather me say fornicate? Conjugate? Philander? Closest?-”

“Do you just have a dictionary of words that mean sex?”

You shrugged, “Maybe.”

“You are…awful.” despite the insult, you could hear the smile on his voice.

“You still like me though.”

He shifted, “I never said that.”

“Sure you did, right after you told me that you would never let those disgusting cops sully my perfect body with their cop hands.”

“I don't recall that one.”

“I do.” you smirked

It was a little odd, talking with Spider-Man in your own home, usually all of your teasings happened out on the streets. Not tonight though, as the rain poured down, you and the detective enjoyed a nice night in.

#x male reader #male reader #male!reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #male s/o #x male!reader #spider noir x male reader #spider noir x reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader

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he-calls-me-kitten · 2 years

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PlayDate

9 demons, 1 angel and 1 immortal wizard. A game night with your harem, planned especially by Asmo. What could possibly go wrong?

Honestly it's just a overly long tease fic what the heck-

TW: There's smexy stuff with organic paint and all so read at your own risk.

"I've never been more excited for a game night! I'm sure Asmo has lots of fun games in store for us!" Diavolo laughed

"I'm suprised you even showed up, Simeon." You nudged the angel next to you. "Especially knowing that Asmo planned it."

"Well I was worried about you." He replied. "I couldn't, in good faith, leave you with the demons on top of Asmo in charge."

"There was really no need Simeon, I'm here to look after MC too you know?" Solomon said, smiling. Simeon laughed at that.

"Attention everyone! Your fabulous game host is here!" Asmo strutted into the room with a peach fur scarf around his usual outfit, just to be extra. You applauded him on, clapping and laughing.

"Asmodeus I really hope you have picked the games carefully keeping in mind Diavolo is joining us." Lucifer said sternly.

"Oh come now Lucifer, don't be like that! I'd like to play any games he has for us." Diavolo chided. Barbatos nodded in agreement.

"The first game for tonight is...Strip Jenga!" Asmo said, bringing out a jenga game box. "The rules are simple, my lovelies! Pulls the pieces from the tower and whoever makes it drop has to strip!"

"Absolutely not." Lucifer bellowed sternly.

"Gah! I knew it! I'm out of here!" Levi got up to his feet.

"Why'd ya have to add stripping as a penalty?!" Mammon said, shaking his head as he draped his jacket on your shoulders. "It totally messes MC's games and I don't want anyone seeing MC!"

"Oh but you're allowed to see are you? Seriously Mammon you think we'd fall for that?" Satan too draped his jacket on you.

Belphie sat annoyed with his brothers. "Gosh this is such a bother. I'm going to go sleep and-"

"Everyone sit down. Its extremely rude to treat your host this way." Diavolo's booming voice made them stop in their tracks.

"Thank you Diavolo! I knew it was a splendid idea to invite you!" Asmo cheerily hopped about as he built the tower. "Solomon a little help?"

Solomon flicked his wrist and everyone watched the tower build itself. The game was eventful would be a gross understatement.

Everyone had knocked the tower a couple times but noone had done it as much as you. Even with the extra jackets, you lost a good half of your clothes - down to your socks and shorts and tank top. And even with lesser clothes than before everyone seemed to sweat as they kept stealing glances at you. And noone was allowed to wear clothes for the rest of the games.

_______Game Fin_________

"Alright! No more of this! Can we change the game please, Asmo." Lucifer said, eyeing Mammon as he tried to take a picture of him, to sell no doubt.

"Alright then, moving on to the next game. Sexy twister!" Asmo announced and threw what looked like a box of colored stickers.

"What are these? Are these edible?" Beel held up a giant red circle, roughly the size of a grapefruit. "Why do they have glue on one side?"

"If I'm inferring this correctly, I assume there is no mat and we have to stick these circles on ourselves and become the mats." Barbatos said, gingerly sticking a blue circle on his bare shoulder.

"And correct! Here we should all stick it on each other, that way we'll get the back too!" Asmo said, sticking something on your behind. You struggled to see a big yellow dot on your shorts.

You giggled. This was rather fun. You put two circles on Simeon's shoulders, one on Diavolo's chest, one on Belphie's face.

"Here MC, if you don't mind, I'd like to do one on you too." Solomon smirked as he daintly stuck one right under your chest.

"Hey no fair! My turn!" Levi stuck one on your thigh and then scurried away realising what he'd done.

"Now that were all covered I'll spin the wheel and we all must try and touch the color okay! What you touch it with doesn't matter!" Asmo spun the little wheel. "Touch Yellow!"

You instinctively touched a yellow circle on Barabtos's back. But apparently someone spotted Asmo's sticker on you.

"Apologies MC ... it's the first thing I saw." Diavolo apologized even as he squeezed on your ass tighter than needed. A lot of them glanced your way and blushed. Diavolo, you lucky demon.

After that it seems people were just looking for the colors on you. On "Touch Blue!" you felt Levi's hand grope around your thigh, above the circle. And Belphie straight up fell asleep holding your leg too.

"Touch Red!" had Solomon almost cupping your chest while Simeon grabbed at your waist. You were clutching Lucifer's tensed up thigh for the last round of the game.

______Game Fin_______

"I need a bathroom break before the next game." You raised up your arm and bolted out of the room. All that touching and close contact...well you simply had to go clean up.

By the time you came back, everyone stood around a little white chair. "What's the next game?" You were almost afraid to ask.

A lot of them averted eye contact. Asmo simply smirked and took you by the shoulders to make sit in the chair. "Put your wrists together for me, could you MC?"

You did as he asked and the next moment you had hand cuffs on your hands and they were tied snugly behind your back.

"Asmo this doesn't even feel like a game..." You struggled to move. And the boys struggled not to groan and look away. Your skin tingled with excitement.

"Sorry MC, as the person with the lowest points, you must serve as the penalty in this game." Asmo cooed and pointed to several buckets of paints kept nearby.

"The game is for everyone to paint you in their own colors. The one who gets the most paint on you wins..." Asmo said, picking up his own pink paint. "...also you can color over someone else's paint."

"Where are the brushes..." Barbatos asked. "...or are we supposed to use our bare hands?" To which Asmo nodded delightfully. Your heart jumped in your chest. What the hell is this game even?!

Everyone had already rushed to pick their colors and now gathered around you, hands dripping with paint. You shook your head. "Wait wait! Not all at once please! It's...it's too much for me to handle!"

"Hmm alright no more than three at a time then! Now let's have draws on who goes first and-" Asmo started.

"This is wasting too much time. I'm the eldest I'm going in first." Lucifer huffed and moved forward.

"Oh don't you dare go deciding everything by yourself." Satan joined in. "Your impatience will be the death of you and I will win this." Satan smirked bumping Lucifer on the way.

"Well I better make sure they don't go too rough on MC." Simeon joined in this round too.

"You have two minutes. 3, 2, 1...go!"

Cold and hurried touches of lavender, blue and green splashed across your body. Satan spread green on your shoulders and down your arms and Lucifer was kneeled at your feet, coating everything blue. Simeon was softly lathering paint on your stomach but was more hesitant on your chest.

"Tilt your head for me a little, MC." Satan whispered as he massaged your neck.

Lucifer gripped your thighs in response. You gave a little jump and he smirked. He slid under your hips and colored there too.

Simeon bit his lip. "I apologise for my indency." He said before slipping his hands beneath your top and underwear.

"Ah Simeon!" You moaned almost involuntarily as he kneeled, massaging up and down your waist. He was leaving lavender stains on the blue and green.

Ding! The timer went off.

Simeon had won. You pressed a kiss on his cheek to congratulate him while Satan and Lucifer gave him death stares.

"Round 2! Im volunteering this time! I can't resist MC anymore!" Asmo chimed in.

"Out of the way! The round hasn't started yet, Asmo. Get your hands off, MC!" Mammon growled spilling yellow as he sprinted.

"Hey if Mammon's going, I'm next! Don't start without me!" Levi almost spilled all his paint on himself.

"3,2,1...start!"

"Oi MC, could you stand up for me?" Mammon's breath was low and guttural near your ear. Your body obeyed him on its own accord.

You felt paint splash down your entire back before Mammon's hands aggressively grabbed you from behind and moved around your body.

"Mammon wait-" You almost toppled over. His hands were groping at you too hard.

"Amateur." Asmo shook his head and promptly dripped some paint on his tongue. "Oh did I not tell you? Its edible! Completely harmless to put inside your body."

"Open your mouth for me, won't you darling?" Asmo said, holding your chin. He kissed you and pried your lips open with his tongue. It tasted like fruit syrup.

Levi had to tilt his head back and stop his nosebleed first. He shouldn't be turned on by any of this. But his boner has been raging since the strip game and now seeing you like this-

"Ahhhh fuck this! I won't lose!" Levi turned into his demon form, tail swishing back and forth and knocking his paint all over it.

Levi surged forward and sat on the ground putting his hands on your thighs. "How ...how are you so soft...MC..." His tail wrapped around you leaving orange stripes all over your skin and clothes.

Ding! "Times up, boys. Mammon wins this round."

Lucifer grabbed Mammon and Asmo by the collar while Satan pulled Asmo off you. Beel and Belphie were next. You sat back down.

And Beel's strategy was to keep cleaning Belphie's colors off you. The more paint Belphie paint Belphie dripped, the more Beel licked.

"Beel wait...that tickles..." It more than just tickled when he kept licking the inner side of your thighs.

And meanwhile Belphie was busy smearing his paint all his fingers and easing them inside your mouth. He even pressed kisses of his colors onto your back.

Beel won that round and earned a kiss on the cheek from you too when he said "You're not hurt are you?" You smiled and shook your head.

The last three. Solomon, Barbatos and Diavolo. You held your breath. This was the most intense trio by far.

"Let's start on a clean slate, shall we?" Solomon clicked his fingers at you. All the paint dripped away and off you onto the white sheets below. "I'd prefer you to be only painted in my colors."

"You are really optimistic, aren't you Solomon?" Barbatos smiled, pulling his gloves off with his teeth. "I must say, MC would look much better in my colors."

Diavolo said nothing. There was a dark layer of lust on his eyes. You watched him take his container of paint and dump it on his chest. Golden paint, colored like his eyes, dripped from his ample chest down to his crotch and thighs. "Let's get started, shall we?"

"3, 2, 1...go!"

"Here MC, sit on me instead." Diavolo promptly made you stand up and sat down in your seat instead. And then pulled you down to his lap, right on top of his erection. Your back pressed tightly against his chest as he held your hips and grinded himself on you. "You feel amazing..."

"Mmmh-" You whimpered at the contact. Intense really was the right word. Meanwhile you watched Barbatos' painted tail slither towards you. Wrapping around your thighs and holding them open. The tip poked at your crotch. "Hope you don't mind, MC."

"Ah~" You almost moaned before you felt someone grab your face. Solomon pried your lips open with his own, his tongue darting around at every corner of your mouth. The other hand slipped inside your shorts. "There's another way to get paint inside you, you know?" And with that he thrust his painted fingers inside you. You yelped into his ear and held his shoulders for support.

You heard a collective gasp. This was by far the most erotic group. And the ones who were already done now constantly adjusted their pants and stared at them, pissed. They definitely wanted a redo.

Ding!

From first glance it looked like a tie between Diavolo and Barbatos, but your mouth dripped with Solomon and when you stood up, endless paint seemed to drip through your shorts, down your legs. He won.

"I'm going to take a shower." You said abruptly. They all turned apologetic immediately, asking if you're hurt or exhausted.

"In case you didn't notice, you all riled me up pretty bad." You groaned. "So I'm going to go relieve myself. Oh wait ...here's a final game for you."

You smirked as they looked on curiously. Oh they were going to go wild after this. "I'd rather not do it alone so the first one to the bathroom can help relieve me. I'll go up first and then you can start, okay?"

The instant turned-on faces and the pushing and shoving made you chuckle as you walked down the hallway. Game nights weren't so bad after all.

#obey me smut #obey me #obey me belphie #obey me beel #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me solomon #obey me asmo #obey me barbatos #obey me beelzebub #obey me smut imagine #obey me lemon

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loupy-mongoose · 11 months

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Weird question, but would we be able to get 1 strange and interesting fact we haven't heard before about each of your characters?

Ooo, that’s an interesting and fun one to think about~

I’ll go ahead and give one for every (main) named character so far. (Excluding future babies.)

Keep in mind I’m going off my memory with these. My memory is generally pretty reliable, but there is a chance I’ve shared any of these publicly. If that’s the case, let me know and I’ll think of something else. (Chats don't count. If one of these was heard in a chat with me, then it doesn't count as publicly mentioned.)

WARNING; Mention of death (Jerry) and suicidal implication (Akoya). (What. You never said they had to be fun facts. ...Don't worry, those are the only two that are more downcast in nature.)

Randy: He was 2 years old when he saw a Mew for the first time (he barely remembers it though), and 3 when he learned what exactly it was he saw.

Akoya: She almost let the lab fire reach her on purpose, with her survival instinct preventing it in the nick of time.

Lavender: If she were to meet a (green) shiny Mewtwo, she'd be jealous of them.

Momo: She likes the feeling of static shocks, but doesn't like the way it poofs her fur.

Midas: There is a subject in which he will be bolder than Momo.

Persim: He may have eventually taken a medicinal role in the colony if he'd stayed.

Sulfur: He's known Randy and Lavender all his life, as he hatched under Rowan's care a couple years after they arrived. His mother is the Lucario mentioned in this writing.

Tol: The disk on his head acts as both a suction cup and a strong muscle/set of muscles to cling to the underside of things.

Linda: Instead of roses, I draw the "flowers" of her hands as bushels of feathers or specialty petals.

Jerry: He doesn't seek death. He's just unusually familiar with its inevitability, and doesn't fear it.

Branch side:

Jovie: Her favorite game/prank to pull is Psychically throwing water globs at people. Especially in the summer time to help cool them down.

Nicodemus: Unlike the Movie Mewtwo, Nico never made clones of any Pokémon, and Amber doesn't exist. So there aren't any of those other 'twos for him to think about or remember.

Pari: She would normally be disguised as a different Pokemon when first meeting strangers, but we all caught her off guard. Her disguise of choice is Floette.

Cody: He is based on a Mii that showed up in my family's Wii for seemingly no reason. (We had access to the Check Mii Out Channel growing up, so I can only assume we downloaded him from there.)

BONUS FACT: In a way, I've shown another character that will appear on @trials-of-vj, but not in the form of art. :3

#willohwist #ask #babbies #branch #Jerry

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lightupthemoon · 2 years

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The Effect You Got On Me (Part 5)

PART V: I won't hesitate for you

PART 1 // PART 2 // PART 3 // PART 4

Summary: You're sulking around and Kate's not at her best. It's time for America to intervene.

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+. MINORS, DNI.

Word Count: 6.5k

Read on AO3

Author’s Note: So here it is, the final part. Thank you all so much for all your comments, reblogs, and likes, it was my fuel to keep on writing. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. The title for this one is based on Hesitate by the JoBros.

America closed the door behind her, unable to contain a deep sigh when she saw you curled up in your bed with a blanket thrown over your head. Again. You were still wearing an oversized purple sweatshirt that you had worn for days, and she was sure you hadn't moved from your spot since she last saw you in the morning. It was heartbreaking and, honestly, a little ridiculous. She walked over to you, your bed dipping as she took a seat by your feet, trying to snatch the blanket from your grasp.

"Okay, that's enough. We need to talk," America grunted, and your grip on the blanket tightened as she failed to take the fabric from you.

"Leave me alone, Mer," you groaned, turning on your side facing the wall. "I'm fine."

"I've been doing that, but I'm starting to worry, cariño, you barely leave this bed."

"It's the weekend. I should be allowed."

"It's been more than just the weekends, though," America whined as she finally freed the blanket from your grasp, pulling it completely off you and throwing it to the floor.

Another groan escaped you, covering your face with a pillow. Your voice came out muffled as you said, "Ugh, America, it's nothing. I swear."

"I'm not dumb, Y/N. I know this has something to do with Kate," America huffed.

You glanced at her from under the pillow, absentmindedly pulling at the strings of your sweatshirt, the faintest scent of lavender and musk lingering in the fabric the only comfort you had.

"Why would it have anything to do with her?"

"First off, I'm pretty sure that's Kate's," America shrugged, pointing at your sweatshirt. "You seem to be avoiding each other, and you even skipped on our last game night. Something must have happened."

You laid on your back, staring at the ceiling. Kate's words still echoed in your mind, feeling like a thorn stuck in your heart that you couldn't get out, no matter how hard you tried. You couldn't think of anything else but how Kate looked at you as she broke your heart, confirming your deepest fears that what you had truly had meant nothing to her. That sensation only heightened when you saw her across campus flirting with random chicks again a few days after, the details of her latest escapades reaching you faster than any other time before. The girls were bragging, and they wanted you to know that Kate Bishop didn't need you, as if you needed the reminder.

You were angry with Kate's stupid fan club for treating the archer like a prize to win, an object to have fun with when they would never scratch the surface of what Kate really was. You were angry with Kate for the words she said. For hurting you and throwing your friendship into the trash without a second thought. Most importantly, you were angry with yourself for falling in love with her when you knew you would be just another name on Kate's endless list. You hated how sad the silence between you and Kate made you and how difficult it was for you to carry on with your life while Kate had gone back to her usual activities as if nothing had changed. Like the months with you never even existed.

"We tried to coax the information out of Kate, but she wouldn't budge," America continued at your lack of response. "So what's going on, cariño? Talk to me."

You sighed, moving the pillow off your face. You sat on the bed, throwing the hood of your sweatshirt over your head, your back resting on the wall. America moved over to sit next to you, her hands finding one of yours and lacing her fingers together with yours to show her support. You sank your teeth into your bottom lip, preparing yourself for the conversation you were about to have.

"Kate and I had a thing going on for a few months."

America squinted her eyes, bewildered. "A thing as in…"

"Sleeping together, yes."

"Oh, I knew it!" America exclaimed triumphantly, startling you a bit. She grinned. “I told Yelena and she didn’t want to believe me, it was just so obvious!” The smile on her face faltered a little when she registered all of your words. "Wait. You said 'had'?"

You inhaled deeply, nodding your head. Despite feeling slightly guilty for sharing the story with America after promising you would keep it a secret, you told her everything, a huge weight lifting from your shoulders as you got it off your chest. America listened attentively and although she was a little scandalized that all that had happened right under her nose without her noticing, she shifted into her understanding best friend mode and kept her facial expressions to the minimum. She was only unable to stop herself from rolling her eyes when you told her about Sharon and her quarrel with Kate, unsurprisingly taking Kate’s side.

By the time you finished your story, your head was on her lap while America soothing scratched your scalp as she would always do when you were upset.

"... Kate said we just fucked and she didn’t have to explain herself to me and I didn’t know how to respond to that so I just… left."

America grimaced. “Ouch. That had to hurt.”

“Yeah.”

"Can I ask you why you went with Sharon? It's genuine interest; I'm not trying to shit on your ex!" Your best friend quickly clarified when she saw the hesitation on your face. "You spent the entire week worrying about Kate, and you still ditched her to go talk to Sharon. Why?"

"Because I'm an idiot, Mer," You replied, looking down at your fingers playing with the strings of your sweatshirt. "I thought her interest could mean something, as stupid as it sounds, and I only confirmed that part of my life is over. I'll never fall for Sharon's lies again."

"Finally, some common sense!" America chirped, and you glared at her. "Sorry, continue."

"And I needed Kate to know that in case she…" you trailed off, covering your face with your hands. "The whole thing was a mess because I'm such an idiot."

America's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "In case she what?"

"It's stupid," you mumbled.

America gasped, pulling her hand from your hair and pushing your own off your face. "Y/N Y/L/N, do you have feelings for Kate Bishop? Is that it?"

You chewed on your lip, looking everywhere but at America's grinning face. Your silence was all the answer she needed.

"Oh my god, you do!" She squealed. "This makes so much sense, why didn't I see this before? You wouldn't have sat through hours of boring practices if you didn't."

"Well, it doesn't matter anymore because Kate doesn't want anything to do with me and her fan club is enjoying her so very much." You squinted your eyes, venom spewing off your every word. "And even if she did, Kate Bishop does not believe in love or romance or anything like that. It's a lost cause either way."

America shook her head in disagreement, her fingers returning to your scalp. "I don't know, Y/N, what if she got so angry because she was jealous?"

"America, why would Kate ever be jealous of Sharon? She could literally have anything she wanted."

"'Cause she wants you, and you went with Sharon instead of her," America said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Maybe she has feelings for you, too."

"That's not possible."

"Why?"

"Because–" You breathed out. "It just doesn't make sense. I'm just… me. I'm nothing special."

"You did not just say that," America uttered in disbelief. "You are the most special. It amazes me how incredible you are. Anyone–and I mean it–absolutely anyone would be lucky to have you."

"You're supposed to say that, Mer. You’re my best friend."

"Well, let me tell you this then." America adjusted in her seat to look directly into your eyes. "The way Kate looked at you, Y/N… she'd light up whenever you walked into a room. Yelena constantly teased her about it and she would just smile. And have you seen her social media? Pictures of you, everywhere. I know she said she was just messing with the masses or whatever but come on. Hell, the fact that she was so chirpy and talkative at the ass crack of morning when she came to pick you up for breakfast?" America scoffed. "You and I both know Kate Bishop is not a morning person. If that isn't love, I don't know what that is."

"Friendship?"

America crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't see her taking me out for breakfast!"

"Well, she is no longer taking me either, so…"

America rolled her eyes. "So you're gonna do nothing? Just let it be over?"

"What can I do? Kate was pretty clear last time we spoke. I’m sure she was just waiting for the opportunity to get back out there.”

“So nothing I just said stuck with you?”

"Mer, as much as I'd like to believe your perfect fairytale, I have to look at the facts. And the fact is that Kate looks happy flirting and probably fucking her stupid fan club." You sighed. “I think the best thing I can do is just walk away with whatever dignity I have left. Move on. The semester is almost over, and Kate and I weren’t even that close to begin with, anyway. I’ll get over it.”

You could see in America's eyes that she didn't believe a single word you said, but she knew better than to push it. You were stubborn, and that idea was clearly deep in your heart. She wouldn't talk you out of it. The brunette pushed you off her lap, sliding off the bed and clapping her hands.

"You are not going to get over it sulking in this bed so let's go, I'm taking you out."

"But Mer, I–"

"No buts! You're gonna shower, change into something that isn't Bishop purple, and I'm gonna crack a window open because it smells rotten in here. And then we are gonna get junk food, and crash at Peter's to watch those crappy old movies he likes until you feel better, alright?"

You smiled sadly. Even if the heartbreak was killing you, at least you wouldn't have to deal with it on your own.

—

Kate wouldn’t stop glancing at the stands. Her archery semifinals were about to start, her bow was anxiously shaking in her grasp as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, the arrows strapped to her back rattling with her every move. She could see some random chicks she wasn’t even sure she knew sitting on the bottom bleachers, holding signs with her name written on them. She saw a few of her professors not far from them, which she invited out of courtesy and never really expected them to show. There were also her teammates from other sports a few wooden planks up, chatting amongst themselves while the competition started. Right up front and center, Yelena, America, Peter, and MJ were deeply enthralled in a conversation that had Yelena mindlessly shoving popcorn into her mouth with her eyes wide as saucers, and Peter and MJ giddily smiling. No sign of you.

Kate tried to follow her own advice. Get you out of her system, cleanse her palate. She went to the first bar she stumbled upon, hit on the prettiest girl she could find, and made it to a hot and heavy make-out session with that girl in a dingy bathroom stall when it became clear she just couldn’t do it. The more she kissed the girl, the more she wanted it to be you. Kate paid the girl’s tab for wasting her time, went home, and stared at your contact name on her phone for a while. She tried for a few more nights, hoping for better luck, but the results were just the same. Kate wanted you, and she had no desire to touch anybody else.

That didn’t stop the rumors from flying around. The girl from the bar didn’t keep their encounter quiet, and soon enough, there were far too many women claiming to have slept with Kate in the course of two weeks. The brunette didn’t care enough to disprove the rumors, especially not when she was convinced you didn’t care, and in everyone’s mind, the balance had been restored and everything was back to normal.

But things were far from normal. Before every competition, you would hug her tightly and whisper in her ear she had nothing to worry about because she was the best. You would kiss her cheek, remind her you'd be right where she could see you, and wish her luck before walking back to your seat. None of the other girls knew what each competition meant to Kate but you did. You never told Kate she was the best because it was what the archer wanted to hear–you said it because you believed it. It was your unwavering belief in her that gave her the confidence to snatch that first place medal every time.

Now, she didn't have that and Kate hated it with every cell in her body.

The archer took a deep breath, the air hurting as it entered her lungs. You weren’t going to show. Kate knew that. She had repeated it to herself all morning, and yet she still could feel the disappointment settling in her chest. A part of her wanted to run to America, beg her to say you were just running late and you’d be there any second, but she couldn’t. It was over.

"Come on, Bishop, you've done this on your own plenty of times before. You've got this." Kate said to herself, gazing at the stands one last time. "You don't need her."

The competition started. Her team started with iffy numbers, six, sevens, and eights across the boards, but fully confident in Kate’s skills with a bow, their coach didn’t panic. Kate did, however. When it was her turn, her hands trembled a little as she lined her arrow. She breathed in and took her time to shoot, annoying whispers rising immediately. Kate Bishop was always sure, fast, and precise. She fired and her first shot resulted in an eight.

Damn it. Kate inhaled the fresh air deeply, begging her body to relax. She took her position again, focusing on the basics. Everything she told you to do that the day she taught you to shoot. It came rushing to her–her chest pressed to your back, her chin on your shoulder as she gave you instructions, her hand on your elbow, the way you relaxed when she wrapped her fingers around yours. Kate pulled the arrow and bowstring back, focusing on the happy memory. She exhaled and released the arrow. Bullseye. The cheers were loud and the corners of her mouth rose slightly, only to disappear entirely when, out of habit, she turned to the stands and saw MJ on your usual seat instead of you.

The rest of the competition went just the same. Kate couldn’t concentrate completely, scoring more nines than tens, and the occasional eight. She still came up with the best score, and her team moved up to the finals of the state championship, but everyone seemed concerned that the usually perfect and self-proclaimed world's greatest archer Kate Bishop couldn't score perfect numbers throughout the day. Something shook her ground, and everyone noticed.

Kate faked a smile through all the formalities. She apologized to her team, promised to be at her best for the championship, and thanked her professors for attending the event. She walked past the girls and straight to her friends as fast as she could. Yelena, Peter, and MJ cheered and congratulated her, but the archer could see in their eyes they were just as confused as everyone else. America only eyed her curiously with a teasing smirk.

“Come on, we’re having dinner at my place to celebrate,” Yelena announced, throwing her arm around Kate’s shoulders. “You need to relax until the big one.”

Kate stared at America, the question so clear in her eyes she didn't have to say it out loud. America knew. The brunette shrugged, giving the archer a tight-lipped smile that screamed sorry.

Kate sighed. "Thank you, guys. I, um, need to go check on some things. But I'll catch up with you guys later, yeah?"

"Kate, come on, it wasn't bad! You literally had the best score!" Peter was quick to reassure her. MJ instantly elbowed him in the ribs, saying I thought we weren’t going to mention it under her breath.

Yelena glared at them both. "Yeah, you have nothing to worry about; let’s just go eat."

"You’re absolutely going to kill it at finals; I just know it," Peter added.

“You’re the best archer on the team.”

“The team? Best archer in the world.”

"Guys," America interrupted their ramblings, keeping her soft chocolate gaze on Kate. "She said she'll catch up with us. Let's give her some space, okay?"

Peter and Yelena protested, but MJ ultimately pulled them away. Yelena patted her best friend's shoulder before walking past her, and Peter gave her an awkward side hug. MJ grabbed his hand and made him follow her, giving the archer a small smile. America didn't move, and Kate looked at her once the rest was a bit far away. America smiled, extending her arms towards the archer.

"I know I'm not her but I can give you a hug, too."

Kate raised her eyebrows, placing her bow between her feet and letting America engulf her in a hug. Kate rested her chin on America's shoulder, blinking back tears.

"She told you."

America's arms tightened around her, nodding. "Yeah, she did. And for what it's worth," America pulled away, searching for Kate's blue gaze. “Y/N misses you. And I can tell you miss her, too.”

“I can’t, she wants Sharon, and I–” Kate shook her head, wiping her tears before they fell. “I can’t. It’s better this way.”

“Is it, though?” America rubbed her arm, tenderly. "Love is not a bad thing, Kate. You're allowed to want it."

"But I don't want to want it, Mer," Kate let out with a teary laugh. "Look where it's gotten me."

“And you’ll never know where it could take you if you don’t tell her how you feel.” America smiled. “Talk to her, get it off your chest. Trust me, you’ll feel better.”

America gave her one last hug before heading in the direction the rest had gone.

—

With the semester ending soon, you had a small mountain of assignments to keep your mind away from how wrong it felt to skip Kate’s competition. You turned off your phone as soon as you woke up, not wanting to deal with Peter and Yelena’s guilt-tripping and insistence, which had increased in the last few days. You weren’t sure if America had told them anything, but you weren’t going to find out. You were going to focus on your degree and nothing else. You’d have all of the summer to sulk around and move on.

By the time the sun was coming down, the words on the book pages started blurring together. You exhaled heavily through your nose, closing the book and stretching. You got up from your seat and walked to your closet, searching for something more comfortable to change into. Without even looking, you picked up a pair of sweats and the first sweatshirt you found, stripping out of your jeans and shirt when there was a loud knock on your door. You huffed, annoyed, deciding to ignore it and continue changing. Whoever was outside would have to get the hint and leave you alone. You pulled the sweatshirt over your head, the faint smell of lavender hitting your nose. Of course, you grabbed the other piece of clothing you had stolen from Kate’s closet.

"Why am I like this?" You mumbled to yourself under your breath, pulling the black and purple fabric to your nose, smelling it again. Another knock on your door, more insistent this time. "Ugh, I'm coming."

You begrudgingly put on your sweats and walked to the door, swinging it open to shoo whoever was behind your door. Standing there, in a high ponytail and still wearing her archery suit, Kate Bishop stood right before you.

"Hi," she said, nervously, and the bags under her eyes told you that, much like you, she hadn't slept well in days. Unlike you, probably from all the fucking around.

She opened her mouth to say something else and without thinking about it, you slammed the door shut in her face.

You heard Kate sigh behind the door. "Y/N."

You shot your eyes closed. "You got the wrong door, move along. I'm sure there's one or two girls you haven't fucked down the hall."

"Y/N, please. I need to talk to you."

"No, I don't think you do."

Kate rested her forehead against the door, closing her eyes, her heart in her throat. "I'm sorry, okay? Please, just let me explain."

"There's nothing to explain, Bishop." You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes and you would be damned if you shed one more tear because of her. It wasn't going to happen. "We fucked, you got bored, and moved on to the next new thing. It's what you've always done. I get it."

"That's not at all what happened. Please, just let me–"

"No."

"Fine," Kate said, pushing herself off the door and crossing her arms over her chest. "Don't open it."

"I wasn't going to."

"But I'm gonna stay right here and I won't go anywhere until you do."

"You'll have to use the bathroom at some point."

"I'll hold it, I don't care. I'm not leaving until I talk to you."

No one said anything for a moment. You could see her shadow under the door, and you wondered if she actually would stay there all night.

As if she was reading your mind, she said, "I've never turned down a challenge, you know this."

Huffing and puffing, you decided to get it over with. You had so much to get done, maybe yelling at Kate Bishop to leave you alone was just what you needed to move on with your life and crush your finals. You opened the door slowly, and she looked at you with those damn blue eyes, the same look of determination she would save for archery glowing in her irises. You opened your mouth to tell her off when she just surged forward, grabbing your face with her large cold hands and kissing you squarely on the lips.

It took you a moment to react. You blinked a few times, unsure of what was happening, but the pressure of her lips against yours felt so familiar and oh-so-heavenly your body relaxed, your hands finding a resting place on her hips as you closed your eyes and returned the kiss. Kate hummed in satisfaction, tilting her head a bit to the side and deepened the kiss, the urgency evident in her movements. It felt like a well-rehearsed dance only you and Kate knew the steps to, breathing life back into your body. For the first time in weeks, you felt complete. Kate only pulled away when her lungs begged her to but even then, her mouth ghosted over you, taking her time to breathe you in.

Finally, she half-smiled. "I'm sorry, I couldn't spend another second without doing that."

"Kate, what the–"

"I panicked, okay? I started having all these feelings I never had before and I didn't want to deal with it so I ran away. Then Sharon said all these things that got to my head and I thought you still wanted her and I couldn't handle it. So, I just… didn’t.” Kate’s heart was beating loudly in her ears. She didn’t mean for the words to just burst out of her, but she couldn’t stop now. She needed you to know. “It wasn’t just sex, I don’t think it ever was. You are my favorite person in the world and it’s so scary, all these things you make me feel.” Her blue eyes glistened like sapphires with the tears welling up in them. "I've never wanted it, you know? To feel this way. To want someone so much that I feel like I'm gonna explode. I never wanted to give anyone the power to break me but here I am, giving it to you anyway because–" A shaky breath left her lips. "I've never wanted anything the way I want you."

Kate's gaze locked with yours. You saw different emotions in the blue of her eyes, the most prominent of all a level of adoration that made your knees tremble. Her thumb gently caressed your cheek, waiting for you to speak. You were stunned. Your heart was wildly beating in your chest, your voice stuck in your throat. Your brain was working overtime to process Kate's confession, fully convinced it was all a dream. There was no way this was true, it made no sense. It couldn't be.

"Please, say something." Fear was evident in Kate's voice. You opened your mouth but nothing came out. Maybe she was too late. Maybe she had ruined it. Maybe you never felt the same at all.

Finally, you sighed, a smile drawing on your lips. "Kate Bishop, you're such an idiot."

She furrowed her eyebrows, prepared for the worst, but you wrapped your arms around her, flushing your bodies together. "I don't want Sharon." You saw a glimmer of hope swimming in the stormy waters of her eyes, and you wanted nothing more than to dive in them. “That part of my life is over, it has been for a while." You pressed your forehead against hers. "I only want you."

The archer pulled you back for another kiss that felt like coming up for air after drowning. All of the hurt and sorrow that you both had carried from that last bitter encounter instantly disappeared, finally back in the place you were meant to be. Her tongue brushed your bottom lip, asking for permission, your mouth parting open automatically at the touch. Her lips were gentle against you, moving in a slow motion, unlike any other kiss you had ever shared. It felt like the first kiss. The right kiss.

Kate's lips attached to your jaw and down to your neck in a trail of soft kisses. A mewl of satisfaction vibrated out your throat, igniting a wildfire within the archer. Kate slammed the door closed with her foot, removing her lips from your neck and losing no time in pulling the sweatshirt off of you. Her mouth met yours in a messy kiss, your fingers finding the zipper of her suit, desperately trying to pull it down. You pouted when it got stuck midway, giving you a peek of her perfectly shaped breasts. You pulled a little harder on it and Kate chuckled, amused, helping you undo it. Your eyes immediately fell to the swell of her breasts as she slipped the purple fabric off her body, licking your lips in anticipation.

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Really? No bra?"

"Too tight." Kate smiled, her hands returning to your waist, emanating goosebumps with her gentle touch. "Comes in handy sometimes."

"Couldn't agree more," You mumbled, grabbing her face and kissing her again. She moaned at your eagerness, pulling off your pants and underwear with a swift motion. Your eyes closed and your hands fell to her shoulders, breathy whimpers leaving your throat as her mouth covered your neck in sloppy kisses. You clumsily searched for her pants, sliding your thumbs at the sides of the fabric and slipping them off, along with her underwear. You gripped at her hips and pushed her towards the bed, immediately straddling Kate. Bright blue eyes looked up at you, each of her hands falling to your thighs.

"God, I missed you," she muttered, unleashing a rattling zoo inside your belly. She kissed your collarbones, and trailed her way to the valley of your chest, her fingers ghosting over the skin of your back to free your breasts from their restraints. "Tell me you want me again."

You pulled at the hair tie keeping her hair up, a cascade of black curls falling onto her back. You brushed a few stray strands off her face with a gentle smile.

"I want you, Kate, I only want you. I want you so bad."

You kept on whispering how much you wanted her as you peppered kisses all over her face. Kate closed her eyes, thoroughly enjoying your touch with a dopey grin. Your kisses traveled down to her neck, her breathing hitching when you found her sweet spot. She drew her head back, giving you access to more skin. You rolled your hips on her thigh, moaning loudly against her skin at the friction. Kate groaned, still trying to contain herself and failing miserably.

"Lay down, Katie, let me take care of you."

You lifted your gaze from her abdomen, without tearing your lips from her skin, meeting furiously blown blue eyes. "Who knew you were this impatient?"

Kate barely had time to do what she was told before you took on her lips again with a newfound passion that made the archer grateful she was laying down. Painfully slowly, the brunette felt your lips travel to all the right places in her body, from her neck to her collarbone, passing by her breasts, taking her time with each one of them and increasing the frustration building up inside her with each stroke of your tongue nowhere near where she needed it most. Kate pulled on your hair and practically begged between heavy sighs and intense moans for you to direct your attention to the right place but you were enjoying watching her squirm under your touch in anticipation a little too much. Just as you were running your tongue through her well-defined abdomen, you captured Kate's hand on your own, stopping her from going directly to the place you were knowingly neglecting.

"Y/N, I swear to God," Kate groaned. "If you don't touch me now, I'll–"

"I'm getting there, just gotta wait a little longer."

"Fuck, I need you, Y/N," she whimpered, feeling your fingers between her thighs but not quite where she needed them to be.

"Oh, I know, baby." A small gasp left Kate when she felt your fingers exploring her folds, still ignoring her throbbing clit. "You're drenched." She grunted in desperation, pulling a bit at your hair. "Have you missed my fingers inside you, stretching you so good, Katie?" you didn't know where that came from, only that you couldn't stop. "Or did you want my mouth making you cum so hard you forget what day it is?"

"God, yes," Kate whined and she sounded desperate, lost in a place she rarely let herself be in. She liked to be in control, in charge of when and how her pleasure took her. Never at the mercy and the teasing of someone else. But she could let go of all of it with you. "Just fuck m–"

Kate stopped mid-sentence as soon as she felt not only your tongue but your fingers on her begging core, giving her more attention than she expected. A stream of profanities found its way out of Kate's mouth, euphoria coursing through every inch of her body. Her hips picked up a pace of their own as you pumped your fingers faster, curling them inside, thoroughly enjoying every reaction you received with every flick of your tongue.

"Oh, you taste so good, baby," You muttered with your mouth still toying with her sensitive bud, making her whine. "Bet none of the others ever got you like this, dripping all over, huh?"

Your question surprised both of you, but it surprised you even more how fast she answered. "No, baby, only you. This is all for you."

"That's my girl. I'm gonna take such good care of you. I always have, haven't I?"

Kate couldn't even think of any words to answer you and you were not expecting her to. Unlike all of her stupid one-night stands, you had taken your time memorizing every inch of Kate's body, and your knowledge of what made her tick ran so deep you didn't need much time to push her over the edge. Even when every bit of Kate's legs was twitching and trembling uncontrollably, you kept your full attention on Kate's center, greedily collecting every drop coming out of her with your tongue. Kate felt in another dimension, completely over the moon. When the contact started feeling like too much, she pulled at your hair and moved you away from her core. You kissed your way up her body, leaving small purple marks in the shape of your mouth under her breasts and over the skin of her collarbones. Her chest rose and fell with her hitched breathing, still whimpering softly as she came down from her high. Blue waves of ocean locked into your gaze, pulling you towards her mouth in a bruising kiss immediately after, tasting herself on your lips. As things slowed down, the kiss turned achingly sweet and steady, the kind of kiss that felt like comfort and safety and filled up your stomach with butterflies as if you were a teenager in love.

“I’m gonna need you to be gentle with me,” Kate whispered when the kiss broke away naturally, her nose bumping with yours. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

"Um, I'm pretty sure you do. I’ve done it with you a few times, actually. Enjoyed it, even."

"No, not that," Kate chuckled. "I mean…" Her eyes met yours again. "This. You and me. I've never–" she trailed off, a deep blush tinting her cheeks.

You grinned, swiping your thumb over the pink hue. "You’re doing pretty well so far, Katie. And we don't have to call it anything if you don't want to."

"No, no, I do. I just–I don't kn–I don't–"

You stopped her stuttering by kissing her gently, your heart feeling warm and full. "Kate Bishop, do you want to be my girlfriend?"

Kate beamed, her grin matched yours. "I want nothing more."

—

You were on the edge of your seat, gripping Yelena's and America's hands with all your strength as you watched Kate prepare for her last shot for her final competition. Peter and MJ held onto each other anxiously. The competition had been tied up to the last minute when the best shooter from the other team scored a 9 with his final shot. If Kate got a 10, it was over. Your school's team would be state champions again.

Kate took her position, the picture of concentration. Even from the bleachers, you could see the little smirk on her face. She had been perfect for every set–this wouldn't be the exception. In a split second, she looked your way and winked, before releasing her arrow.

You and your friends jumped from your seats, the cheers immediately erupting as soon as her arrow landed perfectly on the bullseye of the target board. Kate's team ran to her, making her laugh as they lifted her over their shoulders and chanted her last name. Yelena threw her arm around your shoulders, and America wrapped her arm around your waist.

"Three-time state champion. She's going to be unbearable." Yelena said, her smile refuting the annoyance in her voice.

"We must destroy her next game night," America said, playful determination in her tone. "We must not let it get to her head."

"MJ is vicious at UNO." Peter pointed out, looking at his girlfriend with a smile. "She could totally take Kate down."

"And Pete has gotten so much better at Battleship," MJ added. "We have options."

"Hey, watch it." You warned them with a smirk. "That's my girlfriend you're talking about."

"And your point is?" Yelena laughed. "We still need to humble her."

"Here she comes!"

Everyone cheered, a grin overtaking Kate's face as she trotted towards you with a gold medal around her neck. You squealed, running to meet her halfway and immediately jumping into her arms. Kate cackled with difficulty when your body collided with hers, placing her arms under your legs as you wrapped them around her waist. You grabbed her by the cheeks and kissed her, ignoring the teasing laughter and loud gagging sounds coming from your friends.

"You did it, baby!" You cheered after the kiss, pressing your forehead to hers. "I'm so proud of you."

"We did it," She beamed, looking at you adoringly. "I wouldn't have done it without you, my love. This medal is yours."

You gasped. "Just the medal?"

Kate rolled her eyes, playfully, her smile never wavering. "I am yours, baby girl, always."

"That's what I like to hear." You giggled, pecking her lips again. "I love you."

"And I love you."

"Ugh, can we go back to when it was a secret?" You heard Yelena say with a whine, making you both turn to her. "I don't know how much more I can take."

"For real! I knew Y/N was all lovey-dovey but you, Kate? Who knew you were this gross?" America asked, scrunching up her nose.

"I think it's cute," MJ said, watching you chuckle while Kate put you down, throwing her arm around your shoulders right after.

"Believe me, it took me by surprise, too," you said, snaking your arms around her waist. "I'm not complaining, though."

"What can I say?" Kate shrugged, kissing your cheek. "That's just the effect you got on me, baby girl."

"Ugh, that was terrible, Kate Bishop," Yelena groaned, visibly cringing. "Even Peter here wouldn't say that, and he's pretty bad, too!"

"Hey, I'm not!" Peter whined, looking at MJ with furrowed eyebrows. "Am I?"

Everyone burst out laughing, already on the way to celebrate at Kate’s apartment, your heart ready to burst with happiness, as it had for the last few weeks. Kate interlocked her fingers with yours, immediately launching into a long recount of her every thought during the competition, adding emphasis to her story using her free hand. Her eyes glimmered, her smile beamed and you could have listened to her talk forever. You hoped with all of your heart that you would.

TAGLIST: @girlssnrosess @simpforflorencepugh1 @phantomvalkyriee @messuhp @dumbassbitchwithnotits @musicinourlips @chrisevanisliterallysir @imlike-so-gaydude @yaaskasey @rootbeerfaygo @hopingforromanoff @an-evergreen-rose

#kate bishop x reader #kate bishop #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop fic #hawkeye series #kate bishop hawkeye #kate bishop x you #writing #the effect you got on me #marvel fanfiction #kate bishop smut #kate bishop imagine

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cowboysandpilots · 11 months

Text

For the Love of Hockey— Ch. 1

Disclaimer: I love hockey, and I love watching it, but I have absolutely no idea of the inner workings of the NHL, what it's like to play on a team or the rules and regulations of any hockey association. Please take everything I write in this fic with a grain of salt, as I've taken a lot of creative liberties to make the story work out as I want and have planned.

A/N- Hi, I'm so happy you're here. :) If you would like to support me and my writing, please remember to hit the reblog button, as Tumblr has no algorithm and likes (while appreciated) do nothing to get creators work seen. If you would like to support me further, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi. If you're curious about where your support would go, I'm currently at $80/$200 for my monthly groceries, so any support would go towards that. :)

Amazing hockey text divider was made by: @writercole ❤️ (If you have your Tumblr palette set on goth rave, it may be a little hard to see)

Bradley Bradshaw is a legacy player. His dad played hockey, both his uncles played hockey, and if he had any brothers, he's sure that they would've played too. It's not that he doesn't love the game; he does; it's just that he's under so much pressure, and he can never seem to live up to it. He plays it safe; he doesn't rush the puck or take illegal hits. He has a clean record with zero minutes in the penalty box, and he's very proud of that.

He may not be the best player, but he's got the best sportsmanship, and no matter what fans or reporters say, no one can take that away Until Hangman comes along. The man gets under his skin like no other. He's a cocky rookie, first year in the NHL and the talk of the town. He has no respect for the older players and no problems breaking the rules. He has more penalty minutes than any other rookie in the league, and somehow, people love him for it.

The first time that Bradley sees Jake's smug grin, it's on the TV. He doesn't know the kid, has never played against him, but the way he's boasting about the team he got drafted to and the way he's answering every reporter's questions like he's god's gift to hockey, has Bradley's blood boiling. He clicks off the TV and chucks his remote to the other side of his couch; he should go to bed; he's got training in the morning anyway.

Despite his best efforts, Bradley can't get to sleep. He gravitates toward his phone, which is what always happens, even though the blue light makes his tired eyes burn. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew that the internet would be full of praise, love and ridiculous fawning for the rookie whose teammates had dubbed 'Hangman; he still opens Twitter and scrolls through his feed. It's like he can't help it, and why he chose to focus on this asshole instead of sleep, he'll never know.

The morning practice, surprisingly, isn't hell, even though Bradley barely slept and has to listen to his teammates go on and on about Hangman.

"What do you think about the new guy, Roo?" Mickey asks once they're off the ice and all crowded in the locker room.

"Don't think about him at all," Bradley answers coolly, passing him to get to the showers;— That's a lie. He spent last night scowling at his phone. He had to stop doing that; he needed to focus on this year's season and helping his team make it to the Stanley Cup. What kind of captain would he be if he let some cocky rookie get to him? It wasn't even guaranteed that the two teams would play against each other.

As Bradley's terrible luck would have it, the media coverage and general hysteria about Jake "Hangman" Seresin only got worse. The kid could apparently do no wrong, which only made his insufferable ego so much bigger. It gets to the point where Bradley doesn't even watch TSN anymore because Jake's smugness is practically dripping through his flatscreen; it makes his skin burn.

By some sort of miracle, Bradley has three days of blissful silence. Well, silence from hearing about Hangman anyway. Three days off to travel and get settled into a new city for another away game where he bonds with his team, doesn't watch the news, and spends most of his time on the ice. It's amazing. It's the most calm Bradley has felt in his life.

Much to the dismay of their coach, part of the team's bonding consists of going out to drink. Bradley, as captain, makes the case to Iceman, their coach, who got and kept that nickname when he, himself, played in the NHL.

"C'mon Ice, it's called team building!" Bradley grins. It was true that the team was a lot looser and in better spirits after a night out as long as they kept themselves in check and made sure the hangovers wouldn't be too bad.

Ice couldn't help but sigh and shake his head. He knew all too well what a team could get up to on a night out. It's not that he didn't trust Bradley; he did. It was hard to say no to the kid, and it didn't help that he was his uncle. Or really, his Godfather but Bradley's been calling him uncle since he was a kid, of course not anymore, now it's 'Ice' or 'Coach' and sometimes when he's in trouble, it's 'Sir'. He guesses that's how none of the other players know, he's sure that they would give Bradley a hard time if they knew so it was always an unspoken rule that neither of them would say anything.

"You'll look after them, won't you? Make sure that no one gets too drunk and nothing happens to your team?" Ice always calls the team Bradley's team, always emphasizes it when he's talking about being a role model. That's what the captain's for for everyone else to look up to, but Bradley had to admit that it was a little draining. Sometimes, he wanted to let loose like the rest of them.

Bradley nods. As always, he'll make sure that nothing gets broken, bones or otherwise, and no one gets arrested. "I'll make sure." He nods dutifully.

The day goes by in a blur after that, and when he gets back to his hotel room, Bradley takes a much-needed shower. He almost collapses into his bed with just the damp towel around his hips, but not before there's a knock on his hotel door. He pulls on his briefs, a nice pair of jeans and runs his fingers through his curls before he walks up to the door and pulls it open. The person who is standing on the other side is not to he expects.

"Hey, Bob." He offers easily.

The man makes no attempt to hide the fact that he's looking Bradley up and down but not in the way of checking him out, more like the way he's judging Bradley, buttoning up his Hawaiian shirt. "Are you wearing that to the bar?"

"I was planning on it. Why, what's wrong with it?"

"Nothing, just... you want to meet girls, right?" Bob gives a small and teasing smile. He has a way of making jokes that are just on the edge of mean but somehow never make Bradley angry.

"Ha-ha," He huffs sarcastically. "I can't be a designated driver if I leave with a girl, now can I?" Bradley has to admit that he would like to meet someone, but it wasn't really on the top of his priority list.

The bar is much too loud and crowded for a sober Bradley. The sound of the bass buzzes behind his eyes, and it makes him want to slip his sunglasses on, but there are only two types of people who wear sunglasses inside, blind people and douchebags. Bradley was neither.

He was making his way back to the bar for a second round at his teammate's request when he was knocked into. He doesn't exactly know what happened, but he knows he wasn't carrying a drink, so why is his shirt all wet? "Fuck." He grunts, looking down to assess the damage.

"What the hell, man? You know you owe me a drink." The voice is accusatory, like the entire thing was Bradley's fault and not the guy whose words are slurring enough; he probably didn't need that drink anyway.

Bradley looks up, lips parted, ready to tell the asshole off, except he recognizes that asshole; it's the same one who's been lighting up his TV screen and making him roll his eyes so much he's surprised they're not stuck. Jake Seresin.

A/N- Thanks so much for reading! Right now, this fic is looking like it's gonna have at least 10 chapters, and because I'm a crazy person, I've already started outlining a sequel. Lol until next time, friends. 💕

Tagging people who said they were interested: @cryinginthebronco @jojobeaner @rigmarole-07 @agent-elle @nerdygirl1234 @milobyelo @callsign-crow @itshoneywhatever @flowersonmymind1016 @seresinning @bloodanddiamonds

#hangster #sereshaw #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun: maverick #top gun #top gun maverick #hangster fic #hangster fanfiction #tgm #rooster x hangman #hangster AU #tgm fanfiction #tgm fic #my writing

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yonemurishiroku · 1 year

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Okay, but hear me out: an au where Nico is a Champion of Nyx.

Or an au where Nyx is a competent mastermidn and not this naive idiot. (Yes, I am still salty with Rick about his Nyx interpretation)

Kat I have excellent news for you---I have just come up with a brand new AU that still revolves around Nico and Nyx and Bob but a little darker. I was just bawling over it last night. Idk if it counts as Nico Champion of Nyx but if it doesn't we'll just leave it for another day lmao. (I still have a collection of asks from Ponii--)

Anw. So.

This AU is just me indulging my obsession with angst and darkness (as always). Basically, for Nico to join Nyx, instead of Nico going to Tartarus, I simply send him directly to her. How, you ask? Well there's always one thing that connects them.

Darkness, that's what.

As in: Nico disappearing into the shadows due to transporting the Athena Pathernos, and his soul returning to the House of Nyx afterward.

This is not baseless btw bc like. I headcanon dying by shadow-traveling - which is supposedly literally dissolving into the shadows - would be different from regular deaths, hence the special resting place for Nico's soul.

I understand where Rick stands to have Nyx as she is in TSATS but yeah, I can take some not-dumb Nyx as well. In this AU, Nyx still finds Nico - a soul lost in her House. Nico, though, since I've alr established that he literally died. So here he is in the Mansion of Night, wandering through Nyx's garden, and humoring her with his existence.

He asks for his father and Nyx just gazes at him pitifully, "Little one, this darkness is where your lost soul belong" and Nico figures he has nowhere else to go.

He talks to her and tells her stories, about himself, about everything he knows, and asks her for everything she knows without barely any interest besides appeasing his bored consciousness.

I just want to make it clear that Nico is, by every means in the world, dead, so I imagine this Nico to be a little indifferent, disassociated, careless. You know, the type of attitude a mindless ghost might adopt?

Nico's still emotional enough to react colorfully to Nyx's prodding and games though. As a result, Nyx becomes interested in him the same way Anklys adores him and Cupid haunts him.

Think of Nico as Nyx's most beloved favorite pet - the one with which you take joy in playing, which you'd feed carefully, cater to its need, and be concerned with every change in its behavior.

She ends up going so far as crowning him as her Champion and giving his soul a vessel. A body made of shadows and darkness, with eyes made of supernovas and hair woven from the soul fragments in her dress. (I'm playing don't mind me. Just picture him as normal lmao)

For a long time, they stay like that.

What leads to the changes can be two things, 1/ Bob finding the Mansion of Night; or 2/ Jason's death. Hades plays a crucial role in both scenarios, however.

In the latter, I hope to draw a scenario in which Jason, upon dying, is summoned to Hades' request as the last resort to get his son's soul. In exchange for returning Nico to Hades, Jason would have another chance at life. (Though I suppose if Jason heard Nico's in Tartarus he'd go there unconditionally lmao he's too kind).

If I were to write this, I'd add Reyna and Hazel as well - since 1/ A quest is best done in three; 2/ Reyna is an immortal Hunter; 3/ Hazel is an Underworld child.

Who's the better fit for a trip to the deepest of Hell am i rite?

Anw. A ghost, an immortal and a former-ghost Underworld child go to Tartarus to find another Underworld ghost-child (jeez this is such a tongue-twister). This includes the potential for: Jason-Reyna reconciliation (bc they deserve it), Jason-Hazel reconnection (only bc I hc Hazel never forgives Jason for the jar debacle), and Hazel-Reyna friendship over praetorship and/or as Nico's sisters.

All the while, they're still mourning Nico and Jason.

It's a mess, I know. I find joy in it anyway.

I have few visions of Nyx in this, however. Jason Reyna Hazel trio took too much out of me lmao.

I suppose things would go along the way of them reaching out to Nico thanks to Hazel. And the stories progress through a series of dreams spent trying to communicate without Nyx catching wind, the trio trudging through Tartarus and Nico finding a way to liberate himself.

If I could, I'd add a plot twist that Nyx knew of this all along - Hades' trick could never pass her by, but she left Nico and Jason's gang to it because she wants to see his despair upon realizing he could never leave - for she believes in his soul belonging to her darkness, that this Mansion is, indeed, Nico's home.

I'd also like to see Nico successfully free his own soul of Nyx's shackles, and Nyx, despite the pity of losing her favorite pet, let them go because she now sees Nico's burning thrive for life - a child of both darkness and spring (She's a primordial goddess of ancient times. She can live with a little bit of boredom).

I've yet to decide on an ending, mainly because it was 2 AM and I needed to sleep LMAO. But at least it was fun.

As for the first one, I just assume Bob doesn't get captured - since Nyx already has Nico to entertain him. He might be wandering across Tartarus or staying in Damasen's tent, still calling out to Nico.

His call reaches Hades instead, and he takes advantage of that to send him for Nico. Maybe send a message through Hypnos or Thanatos, telling Bob to look out for the kid, while at the same time sending for Nico as well, telling him about what might be waiting for him thereover and that Hades wants him back. This leads to Bob coming to the Mansion of Night, alerting Nyx and awakening Nico in the process.

After that, I have yet to figure out a certain plotline, but if I were to write it, it'd run along the lines of:

Bob finally found Nico and now Nico sees the hopes of escaping, he suddenly has the desire to leave the Mansion, to which Nyx vehemently forbids. He fights back, ofc. But as a soul, there's nothing Nico can do to harm her. She's a freaking primordial what do you expect--- However, there's one thing he could do - if only to oppose her, as someone who has been holding Nyx's attention for so long. And that is why Nico rejects his own Patron.

Surely, Nyx doesn't like that. She'd have many horrible things to do with him in order to retain her champion, but ultimately Nico would be released and return to his father's side along with Bob.

Yeah obviously i haven't thought that far lmao i was too invested in what Nico and Nyx might be doing back when he's still her Champion. Tbh that's the thing I like most.

I gotta say none of the above ^^^ has any morals whatsoever - Nico's still dead, Nyx would never be defeated bla bla bla - but srsly I could care less. I'm indulging my Nyx and Nico agenda and I'm enjoying myself too much. Who cares.

#nico di angelo #pjo #hoo #toa #yone rambling #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #jason grace #fanfic talk again bc what’s new anw?#yone au #nyx (pjo)#hazel levesque #reyna avilla ramírez arellano #nico and reyna #nico and nyx #champion of nyx #yone headcanon #pjo au

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lucy90712 · 1 year

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Hihi its me again could you do gavi x f1 driver where the reader is one the youngest f1 drivers

A/n: thank you for this request I enjoyed writing it as I like formula 1 too

wc: 2.0k+

Racing as been a passion of mine since I was little it first started when I went to watch my brother train on a motorbike as thats what he enjoyed. While there I saw people on go karts and instantly wanted to try so my parents got me one and from that day on I have been racing. I worked my way through the ranks in go karts before getting into single seater cars and then to the formula one paddock when I got a seat in f3. Everything happened so quickly but after winning in my rookie season in both f3 and f2 I have finally made it to the top flight of racing formula 1 which is a dream come true.

Of course there has been criticism of me and the team for giving me a seat but overall so far it’s been a great experience. The first few races were really difficult as the car is very different to anything I've ever driven before but slowly overtime I have been improving and getting more confident in the car. A lot of the places we have been racing in I haven't been too familiar with but once we started racing in Europe I got a bit better and now we are going to a track that I have spent my life at the circuit de Barcelona Catalunya I am hoping for a really good result. Not only do I want a good result just to show that I'm improving but I also want to do well because my boyfriend is coming to watch me race for the first time. He is a footballer with Barcelona so is always busy during race weekends which means he has never been to one of my races in a proper championship but finally he has a weekend free which just happened to fall on the week we are in Barcelona.

For weeks I've been looking forward to Pablo coming to watch me race so now that the weekend is finally here I'm just so ready to get in the car. Sadly Pablo couldn't come for Friday practice so we have already done two practice sessions although they went really well and I have been fast in both sessions. Today he is coming with me though which has had me so excited that I barely got any sleep but I did managed to fall asleep eventually after telling myself that time would go by faster if I slept. Eventually my alarm went off and I got ready in record time which meant I had to wait for Pablo to arrive at the hotel all drivers were made to stay at so that we could go to the paddock together.

Eventually there was a knock on my hotel room door so I ran to open it and before he could come into the room I had my arms wrapped around Pablo because we haven't seen each other in a while as I've been so busy with racing. Luckily he arrived a few minutes before we needed to leave so we got some time to greet each other and talk a bit as we probably won't get much time together once at the track. I told him everything he would need to know before we left like what time every session was and where everything was even though I'll give him a quick tour when we arrive. He seemed really excited but I could tell that there was something he wasn't telling me so I tried to get it out of him.

"What's going through your mind?" I asked

"Nothing I'm just looking forward to watching you out there" he said

"I know there is something you aren't telling me Pablo just tell me whats wrong and I can help" I said

"I'm just a bit nervous I've seen what it can be like going into the paddock and I know I deal with it before games but for some reason this just makes me more nervous" he admitted

"Thats ok you can be nervous I still get nervous going to your games but I will be there the whole time and we can always walk to the garage quickly" I said

"Thank you love" he said

After that we had to leave so we got in the car that would be taking us to the track even though its only a short distance away we are made to go by car. As the car entered the track there was a lot of fans waiting and filming as we went past which I've got used to but I know Pablo hasn't experienced it before so I made sure to grab his hand to let him know I was there. Once the car was parked Pablo let go of my hand and ran around to the other side of the car to open my door for me which made me laugh because he always has to open my door no matter what. Before we walked in I made sure we took a minute in the car park just to make sure he was ready and secretly I had to calm myself down as I was nervous about what would happen when I walked in with Pablo.

As we got to the entrance to the paddock there was people waiting like always so I went and took pictures and signed things but I always made sure to keep Pablo by my side if I couldn't be holding his hand. I love to talk to fans but today I wanted to make sure I didn't spend too long out there so I only signed a few things before heading into the actual paddock. Even once inside there was people taking pictures and trying to ask me questions but I just kept walking until we made it inside the team hospitality and my driver room. I expected Pablo look a bit overwhelmed but he had the biggest smile on his face before he launched into telling me how much he loved seeing people excited to see me and how they completely ignored him like he was no one and only cared about me. It was so heartwarming seeing him get so excited about watching me interact with fans because he always feels so bad whenever we go anywhere together and people want to talk to him but ignore me so for the opposite to happen isn't normal.

The next few hours were incredibly busy with practice and then preparing for qualifying but it was all completely worth it as I managed to get p2 which is the best I've done in qualifying all season. Afterwards I was dragged off to do interviews but as soon as I was done I ran back to the garage to find Pablo who was waiting for me just outside. Without really thinking I jumped straight into his arms and we celebrated together. I think he was more excited than I was but that just made it all so much better because I wanted to show him what I could do and I feel like so far I've done that.

~~~~~~~~~~

After yesterdays qualifying I have been on a high for most of the day but as the clock has been ticking down to the start of the race the nerves have been creeping in. I always get somewhat nervous before a race but today I'm even more nervous because I'm starting from p2 and so there is a higher expectation of a good result. Having Pablo here is also making me more nervous because I want to do well for him which is silly as I know he will be happy no matter how I do but I still keep putting the extra pressure on myself. We have already had our team meeting this morning and they are confident that we can fight for the win as long as we get the strategy right but sometimes they do get it wrong so that has me worrying too.

With the race being in under an hour I already have my race suit on and am just sitting in my driver room trying to keep calm. Pablo left to go and do something so I've been sat on my own for a while which hasn't been helping. Just as I was getting myself really worked up the door opened and Pablo came back in holding something behind his back. Instantly it perked my interest as he had a smirk on his face as well which can be scary when it comes to Pablo depending on his mood. Luckily he didn't make me wait too long as pretty quickly he whipped out a hat with my number on it and put it on with a big smile on his face waiting to see my reaction. I loved it but I couldn't make myself smile too much as I was still worried about the race.

"What's wrong do you not like the hat?" He asked

"No I love it I'm just really nervous for the race" I said

"There's no need to be nervous you have been doing so well all weekend you will do amazing" he reassured me

"But there is so much that could go wrong the team say we need the right strategy to win and you've seen what the strategy can be like sometimes I might be fine but what about everything else" I pointed out

"Don't worry about it all you can do is drive to the best of your ability if you don’t get a good result it just wasn't meant to be and you will do it next time and before you say it I don't care how you do I just want to see you out there" he said before giving me a kiss

"Thank you Pablo you always know what to say" I said

Before I knew it I had to get in the car and then I was lined up on the grid with the lights about to go off. For some reason seeing the lights settled my mind and I got in the zone like I do for every other race. Once the lights were out I just went for it and had the best start of my life ending up in first before even getting to turn 1. The rest of the race was much the same I was racing really well and putting down really good times each lap which kept a healthy distance to the car behind. By some miracle the strategy worked out and we had two really good pit stops which gave me the best chance of winning. When the last lap came around I was in first with enough of a gap behind that I didn't have to worry about losing position so I just got to take it all in and really enjoy my first win.

After crossing the line I was instantly screaming down the radio and thanking the team before pulling down pit lane and stopping the car. Everyone was waiting for me to get out the car so I got out as quick as I could and jumped into the crowd to celebrate with them all. When the team put me down I took my helmet off and went straight to Pablo who was stood off to the side. He brought me into his arms and hugged me so tightly my feet came off the ground. When we pulled away he gave me a few kisses before telling me how proud he was and how well I drove which was nice to hear as sometimes I doubt myself. Once I let go of him I headed to the podium and the whole time I was just looking down at Pablo smiling as he filmed the whole thing like a proud mum.

I had a lot of media to do but eventually I was done and met back up with Pablo to head back to his place to spend the night together as I don't have to be in the hotel anymore. When we arrived I went and flopped straight on the sofa where Pablo joined me and wouldn’t stop telling me how much he enjoyed the race until we both went to sleep a few hours later.

#gavi imagine #gavi oneshots #gavi imagines #pablo gavi imagines #pablo gavi imagine

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the-fiction-witch · 3 months

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I found out from the fic you posted that there’s an English remake of het huis anubis!? I had no idea that the Dutch show me and all the other kids in the Netherlands and Belgium watched was so successful that they made other versions of it in other countries

I looked up your version of the show and I saw you only got 191? The original Dutch version has 404 episodes and the spin-off series has another 173 episodes excluding crossovers

We also had 3 movies, 7 books, several music albums, a spin-off series, 3 or 4 theatre shows/musicals, several board games, a nintendo ds game and 1 amusement park ride in the Netherlands and Belgium, did they remake any of those into English too?

Could you please tell me where I can watch the English version? I’m really curious to see how it is compared to the original. I’m honestly really excited about this because the character in your fic Jerome reminds me so much of his Dutch counterpart Jeroen, who I had a massive crush on, so it’s really cool to be able to read a fic about him or a version of him

I think I have a link where you can watch the original show, the movies and the spin-off series for free with English subtitles, if you want to watch more of the show I can send it to you?

AHhhh! Hello! Yes Hi!

I got really excited when I saw this!

But yes house of Anubis is a remake of the Dutch show it was made by Nickelodeon in 2011, the show was... I wanna say medium popular in the UK I know it aired in the US as well but I can't speak for the US.

At least for me this show was a huge part of my childhood It came out in 2011 which fun fact I was 12 then and I was a NERD, for history especially I was a big history nerd and this is basically was tripped me into my second egyptology focus but yeah It came for me at kinda just the right time, in just the right way and I have fond memories of sitting down after school to watch this show.

It got I think 3 seasons and then a movie here, but we got nothing like the massive stuff you listed there we got nothing like that, we barely even got any merch or anything of it, I am very jealous.

The funny thing was I never had a thing for Jerome when I first watched it I remember kinda thinking he was a bit of a dick not revisiting it as an adult its like... bring me my cocky little fluffy chaos boy!

And I've been wanting to do more characters for a while now and I was already doing Lancel stuff lately cause I kinda just stumbled on the memory of him in my mind, and had like a heart attack when I learnt Lancel and Jerome are plaid by the same actor which sent me, of course, running to IMDB to see what else I can watch.

As for watching the English version, I said it is steaming on Paramount Plus, on YouTube Premium, Amazon Prime and Apple TV if that helps. I'm rewatching it with friends and we have the physical media so I'm not sure if there are any downloads or stuff online I'm sure there likely is if you go digging.

Ohh I'd love to see the original show and stuff thank you so much!

And thank you so much for talking with me about it! I was kinda worried no one would have a clue what this was.

#eugenesimon #eugene simon #houseofanubis #house of anubis #jeromeclarke #jerome clarke #het huis anubis

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remidyal · 4 months

Text

End of Year Game - Writer's Edition

Pick out five different passages you wrote this year that you really like and share them, saying as much or as little as you want about what you like about them. This is a chance to show off! You can reblog this or start your own post, up to you.

All mine are going to be from D20 fics - 1, 3, and 5 are FH fics, but 2 is ASO and 4 is Never After and both of those contain spoilers so watch out if you're not yet seen them.

First, from Twelve Hours, it's Aelwyn learning completely the wrong lesson from the experience:

Aelwyn looked over, tears in her eyes. "...Aah. Adaine. It's fine. I've learned.. I've learned a lot of really important things, these past few years. About how important it is to have others helping you, and about how much I might have hurt.. you and others. And I am sorry for that. I do love you. But most importantly, I've learned... I've learned from Arthur Aguefort that if you're a powerful enough wizard and you have enough wards on your house, you can get away with any number of crimes and the government can't really stop you."

Adaine made at least a half-hearted attempt at a counterspell of the Teleport that followed - none of the others had gotten that far in wizarding - but Aelwyn was ready with a counterspell back of her own, and maybe it really was for the best. They had the information they needed, and they had Ostentatia's palimpsest, and if Aelwyn wanted to find somewhere to hide from Kalvaxus other than a jail cell, that did seem fair enough in exchange.

Next up, from Gallivant's End, the initial two paragraphs which I think do a really nice job of setting up the interior conflict the piece is about:

Being deep underwater and finding a current that leads you swiftly and perfectly to where you need to get to, Riva for short, did not even know the name of the ship they had hopped onto, nor the two before that since leaving the Wurst. It was information that could easily be found, of course, plucked from the minds of any of those on the ship around them, but all they really wanted to know was whether they were headed in the right general direction to get to home eventually, and they were.

Gallivant had been lovely, of course, and by the end full of love, and in fact the only person of the crew that Riva could no longer be certain they fully loved was themself.

Third, from Locate Creatures, Riz and Penny interrogating a responsible adult, showing my usual level of respect for Gilear:

"I do not have your money, as I have... Oh. Riz. It's you." Gilear said, sitting up. "Is there something that you require, or have I offended you in some way?"

"We need to know who this is and what their address is right now, and if anyone asks why you gave out an address you can say it was at gunpoint." Riz said, Penny adding "And knifepoint!" from behind, holding the sketch out with one hand and her knife with the other.

"Aah. Yes. I do recognize this student. I trust you have a good reason for this, Riz? Do I need to talk to your mother again?" Gilear said, and Riz shook his head.

"No, it's just a kidnapping case. We'll have it resolved first thing in the morning, I promise. Just get me the address."

Four, from Glass, Cinderella preparing to do what she wants and doesn't want to do:

Unfortunately, they weren't as fast as they could have been. A bare twenty seconds after they'd gotten started on the ritual, the doors behind them had opened, the six of Rosamund's group with their own seventh impossibly in the form of the Baba Yaga bursting through them, and Cinderella felt ill to the very core of her soul. She had convinced herself that she would be able to do Rosamund the kindness of an ending she was unaware was coming, wherever the girl and her group had retreated to, and yet...

She raised a javelin in salute to her sister of the Crown, before shutting the visor of her armor that would render herself completely unseen. She could put Sleeping Beauty to rest, one last time.

How much it hurt her to do would not matter. The End drew near. Cinderella would make certain of that.

Last, from Missing, a completely wild paragraph in a completely crazy stretch of choices from our protagonist Aelwyn:

Aelwyn swerved, scraping against a car with a horrifying sound, yanking the wheel to and froe and trying to save it, and there was an awful noise from the tires, and... she definitely didn't have control, now, and the time had come to abandon this plan.

Moments before the police car plowed into the side of a building, Aelwyn Misty Stepped out of it and thirty feet away, dropping the Disguise Self as well - it was close to expiring anyway - and just hurrying along towards the docks on foot, trying to ignore the screaming and sirens behind her. She couldn't do anything about those now; hopefully nobody was hurt, but the important thing was to not get caught.

#fanfic #dimension 20 #fantasy high #a starstruck odyssey #never after

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floofballsammy · 6 months

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So, after having a few days to calm down from my hype and actually process everything, I'm ready to give my (NON SPOILER) thoughts on the FNaF movie. Spoiler thoughts will be in a seperate post.

[Cutting it off because this is a bit long and I dont want to clutter your timeline! :D]

My overall outlook on this movie is still very positive. I really liked it, and that's not just the hype speaking. I went in with practically no expectations, only having watched Matpat analyse the first trailer (to have atleast some idea of what i'm getting into) and was pleasently surprised in the end. And honestly I think that was the best way to approach this movie.

Yeah, I've waited 8 years for this movie, yeah, FNaF is a big franchise, but it's still, well, FNaF. We weren't gonna get some expertly crafted story that will change our lives forever. Not to mention we've also been so desensitized to dead kids and murder that this specific horror aspect will be somewhat underwhelming for us. So I admit, I was a bit worried where they were gonna take this at first. But they took (in my opinion) the best route, with a simpler story and some good jumpscares mixed in. Ya know, Classic FNaF 1.

This movie was clearly made with lots of genuine passion and love for the franchise. And it's really charming. The decision to go for actual suits and props rather than CGI was the best decision they could have made. The animatronics looked stunning and were a nice change of pace from other movies.

The referrences were also fun! I caught a lot on my first watch, but there are definetly some I missed. The movie also doesnt use these as a selling point or hinges on then, which actually let me focus on the movie itself.

But how is it for non FNaF fans? Good question! I went in with both someone who is a big fan and someone who barely played the first game. Later also meet some people who had only surface level FNaF knowledge. We all generally liked it. The plot wasnt hard to follow along and doesnt require any former knowledge. It all gets explained in the movie, fans will just pick up on things or come to conclusions quicker than non fans. But it's never alienating. So, new fans or non fnaf fans can watch it without having to stress over learning the lore.

All in all, it was a good movie. I went in expecting a FNaF movie and got a FNaF movie. It's not the best movie I've ever seen, but a movie I really like and will positively stay in my mind for a long while. Definetly one of my favourites.

#This is rather short so I dont spoil anything #the movie is really good in my opinion #But i'd be open to hear other opinions #just tag spoilers!#Or come fight me to the death(/affecionate) on my spoiler post #when i post it #fnaf #fnaf movie #five nights at freddys movie #five nights at freddy's movie #five nights at freddy’s #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddys #Why are there 3 fucking tags for this #yall what did you do?????#I just- Huh?!?!?!#Sammy rambles

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freuleinanna · 1 year

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trials (and errors)

aaaaaah fuck it. so I was having a hard time writing the fic between being dead inside and quitting my job & job hunting. it still isn't finished, and I've been struggling with writing a longer piece in English as well, but whatever, I'll just keep trying.

P.S. I'll be posting by chapters (AO3 too) in hopes of winning myself some time. P.P.S. I've posted excerpts from it here, here, here, and here. P.P.S. Just a note. I didn't want to make Marisa or Asriel specifically likeable. They're young, and youth is often about ugly emotions & being wrong most of the time. Special thanks to @stillgoingstrongforeternity for inciting the idea!

Exiled from the public's eye, young Marisa Coulter is preparing to go and stand trial for adultery. On the other side of Oxford, young lord Asriel Belacqua is preparing to go and stand trial for murder. A lot has been said about how 'as soon as they met, they fell in love'. That is exactly what made the rest of it so hard.

Chapter 1: Creatures.

Animals turn wild in isolation.

Notes:

I've sprinkled my own hc's from 3-sentence fics all over this, so if you feel you recognize something, that's cause you probably do.

Please know that I resent the idea of turning Edward Coulter into a monster.

Hilda the Maid is just an OC, don't mind her. She's there for the scene.

The old maid's daemon, a house cat, is peering at the golden monkey from behind his human's legs.

'You're not dressed,' a tone of cold disdain matches the stare, no trace of respect in either. Frankly speaking, Hilda never had much love for her, tolerating Marisa reluctantly for the sake of her adored Edward, but now – well. No room for pretense. The boy she nursed in childhood lies rotting in his grave, yet she who wronged him is alive and well.

With a side-glare equally hostile, Marisa puts the drink aside. It is untouched, she cannot afford drinking before the court, she's not that reckless (is she yet?), but the oaky smell is enticing and her lips are dry with thirst. She licks them slowly. It's a game – a craving she must endure, the taming of the beast. She's become good at that.

'Take them away,' her voice is hoarse with disuse, and Marisa wonders if that croaking would be any similar to her daemon's, should they break silence again. 'I shan't wear 'em.'

On the bed, two dresses are set out: both black, both criminally distasteful. Fitting a widow, Marisa supposes, chosen undoubtedly by Hilda herself. She doesn't bother to mask a grimace looking at baggy silhouettes of plain cloth with mournful ribbons in abundance and humble sleeves that cover the wrists – the humiliation of wearing something so bland, even for theater, turns her insides. She buried a husband, after all, not herself – unless you count the exile.

'Yes, you shall.' The house cat narrows his yellow eyes hissing. 'You shall, if I have to wrestle you into one.'

Marisa turns her head, and even the stuck-up old maid can't deny how much the gesture suits her: the arrogance of it, the will. Light from a window catches her eyes; hellfire burns blue as she leans forward in her chair, elbows on her knees:

'Try.'

'A vermin, that's what you are.'

She blinks, her jaw clenches and unclenches at the words. She sits perfectly still. Predators always do.

'A pest, a parasite from the beginning, and he never knew, no, he was too good a man for that. I told him, but he wouldn't listen. I saw you for what you are, though, you little, rotten–'

'Dear Hilda.'

A pause. Hackles raised on opposite sides of the room.

'You will address me as Madam, or I will personally rip out your foul tongue and send it to whatever beggar family Edward had kept you here to support.'

It’s the longest sentence Marisa has uttered in weeks. Her daemon is baring his teeth instead of her – they always feel a little closer at their worst. How fascinating. The house cat stands rigid, its tail twitching in a half-curl close to the legs. The woman's stance is much the same. With visible restraint, she keeps her hands clasped above the apron as servants learn to do, but disgust dripping from her voice is undiluted and more candid than a knife making the cut.

'You may be a lady of the house by marriage,' she spits, 'but you're nothing more than a greedy, dirty pithole.'

The predator leaps.

Even as it leaps, it agrees with the judgment.

The golden monkey screeches, the cat is yowling – Marisa springs to her feet and makes exactly two furious steps before stopping herself, her robe flying and then settling around her. Hilda does not move. Marisa suspects why. All her life, she, too, has never felt a single reason to fear something she could dissect, and pull apart, and learn its nature. Knowing the nature, that’s the key. Poison rolls over her in waves of sizzling acid, and she could swear the woman sees that right underneath her skin, she is a horror.

It feels weird, though, not having power over someone for a change. Weird and destabilizing. Marisa can't afford that either.

An idea comes not by itself, but conjured from the depths of the sadistic artistry that is her mind now, and her lips twitch in triumph.

'Alright,' she nods, 'I'll wear a dress. A fitting dress to honor our dear Edward.'

Possessed, she flings the wardrobe open – a splash of exuberant colors, rich materials, silks, laces of such intricacy it's like a tapestry of its own, everything she hoarded with dragon-like avarice running from (a greedy, dirty pithole) her girlhood of virtuous restraint. A crimson one she chooses, holding it to herself and turning around.

'What do you think? Does that render all my grief?'

The dress covers the knees, but then it doesn't cover much else. Marisa can still taste the satisfaction of seeing the seamstress look away nearly in shame, pricking her fingers on a needle, as though at that instant, fitting the dress to Marisa's figure, she fully realized her own bleak mediocrity and it marked her for life. Cap sleeves were embracing the tender arc of Marisa's shoulders, and a cleavage, though humbly narrow, was running down her bosom just low enough to hypnotize anyone looking with hints of delicate plumpness as she was breathing.

It was a scandalous dress. The thought of wearing it ached in her lower belly with pleasure of anticipation.

'At least pretend to have some dignity,' – oh, the repugnance in it.

Marisa laughs. She slips out of her robe and throws it sideways – the monkey jumps to catch it, turning his back immediately, eyes averted. Marisa doesn't see, but small black paws clutch at the clothes where it carries the warmth of her body, half-stroking it, half-choking.

Сool crimson clings to her every curve as she releases her hair from under it and turns around.

'Zip it up.'

Poor old maid, her face is wrung with contempt so profound she cannot speak. A useful trait in servants. It stirs something in Marisa, pulls her eyebrows into a frown. Then it comes – Thorold, that reticent man Asriel always had around, his trusted accomplice in every deed; her mind recoils from the danger of pursuing the memories further. Too many things she can’t afford.

A glance over the shoulder; a sharp, imperious snap of fingers.

'Now, Hilda.'

The cat daemon treads forward. Coarse hands jerk the zipper up, shaking Marisa mercilessly in the process. She feels a hard pinch at her back as the maid smoothes the dress over, and bites a giggle down through the wince. It is very, very familiar – that overwhelming need to let cruelty out in little bursts. Oh, Hilda, so righteous. So susceptible to provocations. What fun it would be–

The woman slams the door behind her without saying a word, taking the victory and leaving Marisa alone in the room.

As she regards the empty space, resembling a child that's just been told off by a mother, her fingers tremble. A (greedy, dirty pithole) storm is raging, locked in a ribcage with nobody to lash out on, nobody to stand witness. Her claws dream of a victim to dig into. They only find her own self, and of herself, she’s had enough to make her permanently sick.

The monkey chatters sharply. Marisa glares. Hateful creatures, both of them, she thinks, like broken mirrors only capable of showing the worst parts. Their worst parts have grown wild in isolation, clashing all the time. Following an impulse, she holds his gaze, then sinks to her knees, leans forward – then, after a moment of consideration, growls. Her upper lip curls to show teeth. Vocal cords strain dangerously. A menacing grumble is rolling somewhere so deep in her throat she didn't know a sound like that could be produced.

Her daemon drops to all fours and mirrors the note, prowling toward her. Golden fur on his neck bristles, he even paws at the ground a couple of times as if aiming for a blow. He wouldn't dare, and neither would she, but both feel rabid for wanting to. Snarling, they inch the distance between them. Stare at each other, face to face – repulsive, repulsed, and ugly. Shivering all over. Then, as abruptly as it started, it stops.

Long – silence.

Long, long silence.

Marisa sniffs her nose and rubs it with a bent wrist before getting up. She doesn't give her soul a second look; surely, he knows when his purpose is served.

The actual, normal mirror reflects her as she is: miserable and ridiculously clothed. What was she thinking with that dress. She isn’t going to wear it, not really, not unless she wants to be skinned alive at the hearing. In a fit of irritation, she arches to reach the zipper, pulls it down, then frantically undoes it all the way. The dress is flung to the floor and lies there like a pool of dried blood.

Must have gone mad, her heart. Pounding. She’s no short of heroic trying to catch her breath, but it keeps escaping. She would love to escape too. Instead, she'll have to drag herself in front of the Consistorial Court, and let them dissect her, and pretend to be so very sorry as she’s trying to collect her own intestines afterwards.

That’s not all, though.

Biting on a nail, Marisa struggles to understand where her anxiety comes from. Leaving the house – yes, sure, because at least she knows these walls, albeit hates them; she’s made herself a proper hermit here. Spectators throwing shame, knocking on a glass cage to wake an animal. Losing every chance in life over something she had no control of. That just makes her bitter, not afraid. There’s also facing Asriel.

As soon as she thinks it, her senses are flooded.

Rage on the rocks with two fingers of fear, completely irrational. There’s nothing they can say or do to each other, now that the worst things have already been said and done, and still her head is spinning with thoughts of what she’ll say, what he'll say, how he'll look at her and if he looks at all. To be honest, she can’t lay a finger on what it is exactly that scares her. Maybe, that she'll remember the good things.

And then, there's Lyra. . .

–the reaction is instant and brutal. Her body bursts with phantom loss so excruciating she wants to gnaw her wicked arms off for recalling the sensation of holding a child. She had wished Lyra out of them, but now that she is, her whole body wants her back despite direct orders. It's irrational, too, and she growls again, guttural sounds almost prompting her daemon to look – but she is naked, so he doesn't.

What’s infinitely strange is she has never found any particular fondness in her for Lyra. Why would she? For goodness' sake, she is barely twenty-three, she has no more comprehension of being a mother than of being a panserbjørn, yet the longing, purely physical, is there. Something's changed in her, like her integrity has been compromised. Like she’s been invaded and pillaged, robbed of something she never quite wanted but is barely restraining herself from crawling on her knees after. It’s humiliating.

Is it humiliating to have had a daughter?

Daughter, what an alien word.

Her own body betrayed her when it decided to awaken and be barren no more. It wrote a love story – then branded Marisa with it as punishment for not reciprocating that love. Her breasts are still swollen. There's a soft roundness to her waist and hips, skin marked with tiny scars from stretching. Women with bodies like that are supposed to nurse children, but that's a thought as empty as her womb.

She thinks instead of standing trial for adultery. Of whispers, gossip, judging looks, and whatever comes next. If she is to survive, it’s by molding herself back into a presentable form. By getting clean, cleaner than ever. Even if clean means scraping that sad little love story off her skin with sandpaper.

It doesn’t help that, for the life of her, Marisa cannot un-feel the irreversibility of changes left in her by becoming a mother.

Especially since she hasn’t, really. She gave birth. Those are different.

She can't afford focusing on that now.

In the end, she chooses another dress: elbow-length sleeves, no cleavage. Indigo blue, like the depths of the ocean where the creatures are lurking. The monkey comes to sit at her feet, completing the armor with the last golden piece. Entice, beguile, disarm. Asriel will see through it, so let him. At least the rest won’t see the wounds.

Chapter 2

#hdm #hdm fic #his dark materials #marisa coulter #golden monkey #marisa x daemon #trials and errors fic #masriel #(to appear soon :D)

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willawisp209 · 7 months

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Soooo I went to an all queer kink party in my city the other night! I've been to a couple before but this one was special. ❤️ I did two really fun impact scenes with some trans fems I had met at previous parties. I figured you freaks might vicariously enjoy my little adventures through my retelling, so here's part 1 about the first scene!

P.S. This is my first long post so please be nice 🥺

CW: Impact, Blood, Mild degradation, Play fighting, Choking

So the first scene was with my friend E. For context E is a 6' tall blonde trans fem (Maybe the closest thing I've ever seen to a goddess, but I'm getting distracted). She was bedecked that evening in a corset that perfectly framed her shoulders and bust, a short skirt that came to just below the bottom of her hip, and knee-length healed patent leather boots (swoon). I was in a short mock leather dress, with a corset of my own underneath, along with a cute red push-up bra that would've matched my panties had I not lost them in a game just minutes before. (I promise at least some of this is relevant)

E took me to a chair away from the center of the room, still well in view of the other guests but with enough space for the full use of all her beloved tools.

"Stay there," She said.

Not wanting to test my limits yet I stood over the chair obediently. She then went across the room to retrieve her rope bag, a simple canvas duffle bag filled as I well knew with the objects of my torment.

"Do you need anything before we start?" She asked in her sweet but already pitious tone. I eagerly shook my head.

"No, I'm ready," I breathed.

"Alright," She said, pulling a small flogger out of her bag. It was black leather with pink faux fur tassels between the pointed leather tongues. She stepped slowly towards me heels clacking on the cool hardwood beneath my bare feet. Then came the caress of the smooth leather and soft fur as she pressed the flogger to my chin. I gasped as she then trailed it down my neck, my shoulder, my breasts. Finding her way to the hemline of my dress and caressing my upper thigh. Then as suddenly as it came the sensation was taken away as E raised her arm, no doubt to strike me. I flinched.

"Flinching already," E teased.

"I just know how cruel you are, you sadistic bitch!" I spat.

"Sadistic bitch," she gasped, feigning surprise "I'd never." She raised her arm again smiling cruelly. Again I flinched with the memory of our previous scene in my mind. She laughed again at how pathetic she had already made me without even hitting me. I determined from that point on I wouldn't let her see my fear until she earned it. She raised her arm for the third time, this time I stood still in the inevitable path of the flogger. The strike never came, instead she just smiled, wrapping the faux fur around her hand leaving only the leather tongues for me. She then quickly moved to strike from a completely different angle hitting my exposed shoulder and upper arm. I moaned with the sting of leather against my skin. Then the second strike as fast and sharp as the first to the same place, and a third, and a fourth. The compounding stings building to a consistent glowing heat of pink and red where she'd struck me. Then a fifth strike.

"Please...," I managed.

"Please what?" Mocked E.

"Please hit me somewhere else," I tried, knowing this request was just as likely to help as to hurt me.

"No," She smirked "I'll hit you how I please". I melted at this simultaneously cursing and adoring her cruelty. Then the Sixth hit the same place as the first volley. I yelped in pain as the flogger hit the raw skin of my arm. She then landed hit after hit on my breasts, my thighs, my back, and my arms, aiming for any patch of bare skin or sensitive tissue she could find.

"It's so stingy," I moaned thoroughly enjoying the bite of leather against my flesh.

"Awww but it's so soft for me," teased E, giggling and playing the fur tassels through her long nimble fingers. Another volley of stings erupted across my back, my arms, my thighs. Through the pain the only clear site was her beautiful sadistic smile. I remembered right then why I was doomed to be her play thing, I was so addicted. I moaned out in my pain and bliss as she gave me another volley of blows. She then reached for her bag rummaging inside for her next implement, no doubt taking care in her selection both for her enjoyment and mine. Leaving me eagerly awaiting, still gently stinging in all the places she'd lovingly struck, my shoulder where she'd started being worst of all.

"Are you ready?" She asked triumphantly producing a leather paddle about the size of her hand.

"Yes Miss," I replied obediently.

"Good," she raised her arm and struck hard with the paddle against the shoulder on which she'd started. Then against my right thigh and my left. Flat stinging thuds against my skin emptying my brain of everything except the searing pain. I screamed out writhing in my agony as I collapsed into the chair.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her stern voice cutting through the ripples of pain.

"Yes ma'am," I moaned "it's just a lot."

"what's your color?" She asked.

"Green," I responded without a second thought, "But I think I need to struggle or fight back a bit'

"Do I need to tie you up?" She asked sternly, "Or do you want to fight and see what it gets you?"

"I think I'll fight," I giggled, "although I do enjoy the thought of being tied up."

"Fine," E said smiling and pulling a bigger flogger and something else out of her bag. "Do you remember these?" She teased, pulling on one of her vampire gloves. My eyes went wide with recognition. She knew how much I loved and feared those damn gloves. She then swung the flogger in a lazy arc towards my still burning shoulder, which my hand came up to block. I managed to grab the flogger, having caught her off guard I was able to start to wrench it from her grip. E's gloved hand flew to the wrist of the hand grabbing the flogger, each of the tiny spikes embedded in the fingers pressing into my skin. My other hand also joined the fray digging my nails into the flesh of her bare hand. This only made her dig the spikes into my wrist in earnest.

"Oo-oh fuck," I moaned, "Your claws are so much sharper Miss."

"Well of course they are," she laughed, grabbing both my wrists in hers. Each spike of the gloves piercing the skin soft skin of my hands. My mind cleared again, just the pain and her sadistic smile, until she brought my attention elsewhere. E brought the flogger in a wide circle to strike the shoulder she had been beating on all night again. The flogger cracked against my flesh sending waves of pain through me. Then the flogger was between my thighs ruthlessly hitting each one after the other. She was trying to spread my legs for her whims. I knew I couldn't let her. I couldn't let her see that her cruelty had been making my girlcock throb and drip. She didn't stop. Hit after hit intent on spreading me enough that I lost count. I didn't crack. She brought the flogger in a wide circle around her head and brought it down across my breasts. Again and again making coos of her appreciation at the sounds of my agony mixed with the flogger cracking against the leather of my dress. I made to strike back scratching my nails across her torso in the hopes of finding any exposed tissue I could. All I hit was the stiff fabric of her corset, grunting and hissing in my frustration.

"You bitch," E cried bringing her flogger down on my now exposed shoulder. She struck me over and over and over again, each stinging blow pushing me further to the ground beneath her. She didn't stop. I knew she wouldn't, not til I won, gave in, or used my safe word. As the flogger rained it's stinging blows onto my upper body I made the only decision I could. I gave in. I collapsed and begged her to stop. I could do nothing but cling to the bare patch of her skin between her boots and the hem of her skirt.

"Good girl," Praised E, stepping back to admire her handy work. I was panting to catch my breath and coming back into myself, my eyes unable to manage anything but a soft focus on her. She again began to search her bag. What she withdrew this time gave me chills the instant I saw it in her hands. Her rattan cane. I knew her intent was to mark me with it and smiled softly at the thought. The bruises from our last scene had lingered for weeks on my skin. I hoped this sessions would last even longer. She brought the tip of the cane to my chin lifting it with the point to meet her gaze.

"You're so pretty," I muttered high on the flood of endorphins she'd so lovingly subjected me to.

"So are you doll," E cooed, a contented smile spreading across her face, "but don't think I'll spare you anything because of it." She then skillfully brought her cane around in an arc to strike my right thigh. The cane landed twice on my right, then twice on my left. Leaving stinging bright white lines seared into my skin as a reminder of her cruelty. Two more hits one on each shoulder. The sounds of pleasure and pain mixing in my throat as I released them. Then the cane was pressed into my chin again drawing my gaze to hers. Her gloved hand flew to around my throat choking me and pressing me into the back of the chair. She held me there long enough to get my attention. Then she held me there longer. Long enough that the edges of my vision started to blur. All I could feel was my burning need to breathe and the spikes of her gloves against the soft skin of my neck. All I could see was her, her bright green eyes and her sadistic smile. I could only smell the leather of her gloves. No sound would ever rival the sound of her voice cooing praises and giving commands, so why even listen. She had my total attention. I knew she wasn't going to let me breathe til I submitted completely to her.

"Y-yellow," I managed.

"Oh, what is it sub?" She prodded sardonically, loosening her grip on my throat.

"I-I couldn't breathe Miss," I said sweetly, eyes as piteous as I could make them. I half hoped she'd call me a dumb whore and choke me hard again for stating the obvious. She didn't. Her plans for the end of our scene were much more cruel. As she stepped closer to me, she kept her eyes locked on mine and that beautiful sadistic smile glued to her face. She took one step heels clacking against the hardwood. Her next step was onto my toes precisely crushing them with the heel of her boot. One after the other with purposeful grinding malice. I screamed in pain and tried to push her away. This insolence only earned me the slash of her vampire glove across my face and more of her boots. Then she stepped away. I gasped a small sigh of relief, only to notice her returning to her bag. Her last tool was a spiked paddle. My eyes went wide with fear and pleading. I'd seen what she was capable of with the spikes of the gloves, but these were even larger.

"Please," I begged.

"Please hit you? Or don't hit you? What" she teased.

"Please start gently," I whimpered.

She struck my thigh hard with the spiked side of the paddle. Each of the spikes piercing my skin, revealing small circular dots of my bright red blood as she withdrew her paddle. I screamed in pain, my eyes shooting towards hers accusingly.

"Oh I'm sorry, must have slipped in my hand," she said, giggling and making a face of feigned pity.

"You're so mean," I praised.

"Oh, I know," E taunted. She made her final strike at my other thigh giving me matching marks from her. I was left with two hexagonal clusters of tiny round holes in each of my thighs. I was gently bleeding I noticed the overwhelming sting of the impacts subsiding. She then took her first aid kit from her bag and started to calmly prep my wounds with alcohol wipes, her strong hands keeping pressure on them with a small towel.

"You did so good for me," cooed E.

"Thank you," I managed. We discussed aftercare and got some glasses of water from the kitchen. I followed her around for a while collecting my praises and small affections, nothing extravagant but enough for me. I praised her and reassured her that I thoroughly enjoyed her cruelty, despite my suffering just as she had asked for. She then led me to the patio where we sat enjoying the cool air on our skin.

(This is where part 2 will pick up! I'll probably post it either later this week or next week depending on when I get it finished.)

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