#i would like to apologize for the russian
Note
Can you do a Natasha x fem Reader based off wildest dreams by Taylor Swift? The idea I had was something like R and Nat having feelings for each other and then end up kissing or something a one of Tony’s (Tony is R’s dad) parties. They end up have a secret relationship because R is scared to come out to the team and especially her dad. But they end getting caught by Thor who accidentally tells Tony and the team at a dinner or something. But there’s a happy ending
Note: I do apologize but I kind of changed the ending on this but I do hope you enjoy it.
Warning: secret relationship, reader is closeted for the beginning, kissing, angst with a happy ending, drinking, self-doubt, miscommunication
Relationships: Natasha x Stark!Reader, Tony x Pepper x Reader (platonic)
If there was one thing about your father, he could throw a party, and most of the time, you had no idea why a party was happening. You knew the team returned from a mission. They saved the day, were the heroes, and now they were drinking and partying. All expect Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow was nursing a Long Island iced tea outside the party. She was wearing a black mesh jumpsuit. The top was sequined with a deep v-neckline and long sleeves. It was a showstopper. Every head seemed to turn towards her but ignored every advantage, man or woman.
You sighed, stood up from your spot at the bar, and pushed your way through the party to the outdoor balcony. You felt her eyes on you as the door closed behind you, and the sounds of the party became muffled. She would come; you just had to wait. So you walked to the patio set in the corner and sat down.
The cool summer air caused goosebumps to form on your skin. You enjoyed the cooler weather, and the sun blasted the city during the day. It recorded high temperatures this year. “You are going to get sick wearing just that,” you knew she was smirking without looking. You were more focused on the city skyline.
“Come keep me warm then,” this time, you looked at the Russian as she walked over to you. She sat down next to you, her thigh barely touching yours, but you felt the warmth she gave off. This was the nature of your relationship with Natasha. Constantly flirting, teasing touches, and longing looks at one another. That was it. It was as if you were both too scared to take that final step. “Are you not enjoying the party?” You turned to face her. Your arm bent on the back of the couch, and you rested your head in your hand. “The talk of the town is that you’re a hero.” You were caught off guard by the bitter laugh that escaped from her, and she sipped on her drink. You frowned.
“I’m not a hero.”
“I think you are,” she said, placing her hand on your thigh. You were wearing a skirt, so you enjoyed the feeling of her hand on your skin.
“You look good,” she said, changing the direction of the conversation. Did you wear this for me?” You rolled your eyes but placed your free hand on top of hers.
“No,” you deadpanned. “I don’t want to inflate your ego, Romanoff.” She smiled and moved closer to you. You thought she was going to kiss you. Instead, she rested her head in space between your neck and shoulder. “Nat,” your voice shook. “What are you doing?” She hummed, and the vibration caused a shiver to travel down your spine.
“I was thinking about kissing you,” she pulled away, and you felt the warmth of her breath on your lips. “What do you say to that, pretty girl?”
“I’d say, what are you waiting for?” Her lips were softer than you expected. Her hand moved to your cheek, keeping you close as the kiss depended on it. She ended it. Her lips were red, and her cheeks were rosy.
“Let’s get out of here,” she whispered. “Drive out of the city, away from the crowds.” You have never moved so fast in your life.
Now, your relationship with the Black Widow has changed. The longing looks were still there, but the flirtatious behavior was replaced with stolen kisses when the team wasn’t looking. Too often, Natasha pushed you up against the tower’s walls and kissed you as her life depended on it, always ending before the team caught you. No one knew, especially your father. For six months, Natasha and you kept your relationship a secret. Even when you knew Natasha wanted to show you off at every party, cuddle with you during moving nights, or claim you as hers. It was you. You weren’t out yet to Tony, and the man was trying to set you up with every eligible bachelor in the city. You were so scared he would be disappointed in you. So you hid, and you pretended it wasn’t kissing you.
*
You woke up to an empty bed, and the spot Natasha had slept in the previous night was cold. There was the lingering scent of her perfume on her pillow. You had an apartment a little away from the tower. Tony told you often that you could live in the tower, but you liked the sense of privacy. It was also the perfect place to be with Natasha, away from the team. You could be all over her, which you were last night, and a fight broke out.
You were needy and missed your girlfriend, which caused you to be attached to your girlfriend like a koala. She laughed it off at first, poking fun because she was usually the one that constantly wanted to be close to you. You grumbled something about being unable to hug her all day, which was true. You were both so busy the only time you could touch her was at night or early morning before your busy schedule whisked you away from one another. As the night carried on, you noticed a shift in her mood. With Natasha, it was up in the air on how to deal with it. Sometimes, she was honest and told you the truth. Other times, she bottled everything up and shut down.
You decided on the direct approach and asked what was bothering her. She was quiet for a moment and focused on the Bond movie that was playing. It was her night to pick, so you weren’t surprised when you returned from the bathroom to see it queued up on the TV. ‘Are you ashamed to be with me?’ she asked.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time she’s asked you this question. As soon the question was asked, you knew the direction was headed. Over the past six months, it was the only thing you fought about. Hurtful words were said on both sides. She was tired of being your secret. Even though you fought about it before this time, it felt final. She was almost fed up waiting for you.
You sat in your bed and stared at the clothes she had left in your room. Most of them were folded neatly in the space you made for her in the dresser or hung up in the closet next to yours. These clothes were from two nights ago when you ripped them off your girlfriend. You slumped back in the bed, pulled Natasha’s pillow over your face, and inhaled your scent. You needed to get out of bed, but the weight of the fight and waking up to Natasha being gone was soul-crushing. Sighing, you force yourself out of bed to take a quick shower.
You were part of the lead team of scientists at Stark Industries. A position you had to work your ass to get the position and prove to everyone you were more than qualified. You heard the whispers and saw the dirty looks, that everyone believed you got the job because Tony Stark is your father.
Braiding your hair, you entered your kitchen and found a note on the counter. You recognized the handwriting of your girlfriend. ‘Your breakfast smoothie is already blended, and I peeled some hard-boiled eggs. Maybe we can do lunch if you aren’t busy. Forever and Always.’
It was a saying the two of you said. Instead of ‘I love you’, it was ‘Forever and Always.’ Natasha found it easier to say that than the L-word. You kissed the note and placed it in your pocket. Still, your heart felt heavy.
*
There was no time to see Natasha between meetings, running experiments, and writing reports. You were exhausted and missed your girlfriend. It wasn’t until 3:30 when you saw her. She was in the kitchen, cutting her sandwich into triangles. You always found it funny, but she claimed it tasted better. Your eyes locked onto hers pointed to the side hallway and walked over there. With your back against the wall, you waited. You heard her footsteps as she stood in front of you. “Hi,” she smiled.
“Hi,” you responded and kissed her cheek. But you refused to move away, basking in the warmth she always gave off. You put her arms around her neck and hugged her. Her hands found their natural place on your waist. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m so sorry. I’m just so scared.” You felt her nod and gently pulled back so she could face you. Your arms remained tightly around her neck.
“I know,” she said. “I’m sorry, too. Forever and always, I promise.”
“Forever and always,” you whispered against her lips. She kissed you softly. In hindsight, getting lost in how Natasha kissed you was a bad idea. You bite her bottom lip, and the gasp she releases lets you deepen the kiss. Her grip on you tightened, and she pushed you back against the wall. You moaned, and it only seemed to spur her on. Kissing Natasha was everything. Every time she kissed you, it took your breath away. Gently morning kisses or rough, passionate kisses against your kitchen counter. You could spend your entire day in her arms and her lips on yours. “Ah, Lady Stark, oh-” you jumped at the sound of the God of Thunder’s voice. His eyes flickered to you and Natasha, whose arms were still around you. “How long has this been going on?”
“6 months,” Natasha answered. You’ve lost your ability to speak. The god smiled.
“Very well. I will find you later,” he winked at you and returned the way he came. Thor knows you thought. Someone on the team caught you. It was only a matter of time before it got back to Tony or Pepper. The Avengers were superheroes, super soldiers, and trained spies, but they were horrible secret-keepers.
“Sweetheart,” you snapped out of your thoughts by Natasha’s voice. “Are you okay?” You nodded, unsure if you were.
“I have to tell Tony and Pepper before it gets back to them through someone else.”
“Do you want me to?”
“No,” you cut her off before she could finish her question. You desperately wanted her to be there but needed to do it alone. You were the reason your relationship was hidden for so long. “Sorry,” you ran your hands over your braid. “I have to do it alone,” you placed her hand over her heart. The steady beat calmed you down. She put her hand over yours and kissed you softly. The kiss was so gentle it felt like a goodbye. You kept your forehead against hers and closed your eyes. There was so much you wanted to say.
What would your last request be? Would you tell her to remember you? She took you to the beach for a date. You stood in a nice dress and stared at the sunset, red lips and rosy cheeks. ‘Remember me there,’ you thought. ‘Say you’ll see me again even if it’s in your wildest dreams.’
“Forever and always,” you said again.
“Forever and always.”
*
You promised Natasha that you would find her as soon as you were done talking with Tony. Luckily, you had some paperwork to give him, so the visit had a more tangible reason to see him. You opened the door to his office as a dart was thrown, and it hit the door frame. “Oops, sorry, kid,” you rolled your eyes and pulled the dart out of the wood.
“For you,” you dropped the pile of folders onto his desk. “We just need you to verify our numbers are correct, and then we can move on to the next phase.” He groaned dramatically and flopped down into his chair.
“You know I promoted Pepper to CEO, so I didn’t have to deal with paperwork.” Your mother was a saint. You chuckled and aimed at the dart board. You threw it and hit the bullseye.
“It’s your project,” you said, walking over to the board and pulling out the darts. We don’t want another Ultron,” you saw him roll his eyes.
“You make one robot that goes rampant, and it’s all everyone talks about,” you laughed and threw another round of darts. “Do you need these back now?” He pointed to the files.
“No,” you sat in the chair and crossed your legs. “Can I not spend time with my sperm donor?” You ducked at the stress ball he threw at you. He hated it when you called him that, but you loved getting a rise out of him. “Actually,” you folded your hands. “Can we talk about something?” He sat up in the chair. It was rare for you to see the man so seriously.
“Are you dying? Pregnant? Did you kill someone?”
“No!” You laughed and scratched the back of your head. “I uh shit,” you weren’t sure why you were so nervous. You knew the man was an ally. Stark Industries was at every event during Pride.
“Angel,” he smiled. “You can tell me anything, and I won’t be upset.” Angel was the name he called you since you were a baby. You were born very premature and got sick so easily that the doctors weren’t sure if you were going to make it. But you recovered.
“I’m gay,” you whispered. “I’ve known for a while,” you said before he could say anything. “I’ve been so scared to tell you.” He stared at you, blinking a few times, but remained silent. “Right, sorry for wasting your time. I’ll go.” You stood up quickly, knocking over the chair. You left it on the ground and stumbled out of the office. You needed to get out. You needed to go.
*
Natasha was getting worried. She thought it was taking a lot longer than she thought it would. She asked the AI where Tony was, and the Black Widow walked into a shit show when she entered his lab. Tony was frantically moving holograms around, but they flashed red, and he would try again. Pepper was no better. Her phone was pushed against her ear, and she was pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth. “Are we being attacked?” She asked, making her presence known. Tony glanced at her before focusing back on whatever he was doing.
“I don’t have time for whatever stupid prank Yelena or Peter pulled. Whatever they broke, just order another one,” he began to work again. I have to find her.” He said it mostly to himself. It was a mumbled and throwaway comment, but Natasha heard it. ‘I need to find her,’ Tony said. Natasha grabbed Tony by the shoulder without thinking and threw him into the chair. She steadied him so he wouldn’t fall over.
“What did you say to her?” She asked, crossed her arms, and took a small step back.
“How do you-” he squinted his eyes at her. “Look, I didn’t say anything to her.” He threw his hands to the side. It clicked in Natasha’s head. She knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes. You took his silence as rejection. “Now move so I can find our daughter.” But Natasha stayed.
“Where have you looked?”
“FRIDAY can’t find her,” Pepper ended her call and walked over. “I’ve called some of her favorite sports, but no one has seen her.”
“She’s either turned off her phone or blocked me from finding her.” Natasha always believed you were more intelligent than him, but she knew where you would run off.
“I know where she would go,” Natasha turned on her heels to leave.
“Wait,” Tony called out. His frantic voice caused the Black Widow to stop. “Why do you know so much about her?” Right. If you took off, you wouldn’t have told him. Slowly, Natasha faced him.
“I’ve been dating her for six months,” she said. “So I will find her and make sure she’s safe.”
*
You knew your time was up when you heard the quiet chime of the front door. You waited until strong arms circled your waist and pulled you flush to her chest. “Found you, my love,” you smiled and chuckled. Of course, she would be the one to find you. She was the only one who knew about this place. “Tell me about this painting.”
You told her a story that captured the emotion of the painting in front of you. You stood in a small art gallery way past closing hours, but the owner gave you the key. You were an investor here, meeting the owner in Central Park while they were painting. The art gallery was small, and it showcased local and small artists. It was peaceful, and the place gave your mind a break. You kept the gallery a secret, protecting your space from the crazy personalities of the Avengers.
“Is he mad?” You finally asked. Natasha shook her head and kissed your shoulder.
“No, he’s worried he couldn’t find you,” she chuckled softly. “I may have told him we are dating.”
“Oh,” you whispered. You felt oddly okay with him knowing, even if he wasn’t going to accept you as you were. “Where is he?”
“Well, I told him to stay at the tower,” Natasha sighed. “But he’s stubborn, and I caught him and Pepper following me.” You laughed, not surprised that Tony Stark couldn’t follow a car without getting caught. You spun around to face your girlfriend, arms around her neck and hugged her tight.
“Forever and always,” you whispered.
“I love you too.” The three-word statement shocked you and made your stomach flip. Your heart filled with butterflies. You were happy and terrified but mostly happy.
You were startled when you walked out of the gallery, and your dad bulldozed into you. His arms wrapped around you tightly. “I love you,” he said. “I love you and support you even if you have questionable taste in women.” You let out a watery laugh and wiped away your tears.
“Thanks, Stark,” Natasha rolled her eyes with a small smile on her face.
“I will support you. I will always want you to be happy,” Tony continued.
“We love you no matter who you love,” Pepper said, getting out of the car and joining you. “No matter what.” You collapsed into your parents’ arms and cried against them. A weight was lifted off your chest, and you felt free.
*
The next Stark Party, you were sitting on the couch. This time, Natasha’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist and your hand on her thigh. It seemed second nature that the two of you were attached at the hip. No one batted an eye. When looking back at it, you seemed a little silly. But now you were free to live your life to the fullest.
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff x stark!reader#tony stark x pepper potts#black widow x reader#black widow x you#black widow fanfiction#inspired by music
269 notes
·
View notes
Text
so I met a guy from russia on r/language_exchange back when I was on reddit, and we call usually twice a week so I can practice my russian and he can practice his english. and it’s really funny watching my brain go through the mental parkour of communicating ideas in a language I know enough to speak conversationally, but I’m still not fluent in. like I probably use “интересный” (interesting) five times per sentence
like last time we called, I was telling him about the fact that I’m rereading the unfortunate events books because I really liked them as a kid and I felt the writing style really impacted my own art, as well as my interests and my outlook on life, and wanted to touch on a bit on what the books were about. it came out something like
«Сейчас, я читаю книги, которые я прочитала в детстве-” (sudden, jarring switch to english because I didn’t know what the books were called in russian) “a series of unfortunate events” (sudden, jarring switch back to russian) “которые мне очень понравились. Книги о грустных детях с ужасными жизнями, но они очень смешные, потому что у них есть- uh- тёплый- NO- тёмный умор- not ‘warm humor;’ ‘dark humor.’ is that how you translate it. what is ‘warm humor’ even. но мне особенно нравится как автор, uh-” (here I break off because I want to talk about how I like how the author references classic literature a lot, and I appreciate the references a lot more now that I’m older and have studied literature, but I’m not quite sure how to formulate that thought) “автор написал шутки о классической литературе в книгах, и не понимала- wait, should I have used perfective or imperfective aspect there- их когда я была моложе, и сейчас я понимаю их потому что я часто читала литературу в университете”
which translates something to
“Now, I’m reading books that I read in my childhood, “a series of unfortunate events,” which I really liked. The books are about sad children with horrible lives, but they are very funny because they have- warm [wrong word] - NO- dark humor (…). But I especially like how the author […] the author wrote jokes about classic literature in the books, and I didn’t understand […] them when I was younger, and now I understand them because I often read literature in college”
you know, it kinda gets the point across? sort of?
anyway mad respect to anyone who’s had to learn a second language bc it’s not easy!!
#language learning#a series of unfortunate events#asoue#russian language#rambles#I would like to apologize to any bilingual russian/english speakers for that mess lmao
90 notes
·
View notes
Text
people here love to bitch about russian and ukrainian immigrants but the thing is it’s not one of those ‘they’re stealing our jobs’ rhetorics it’s more that the rent skyrocketed and moving into a decent apartment is laughably expensive because it’s all marketed towards them because they’re the ones with money and more than that i live in a city where if i’m at work outside on a smoke break our people will insist that i finish the cig and they’ll wait and chat with me while the immigrants have that late stage capitalism customer is always right kind of mindset like to them i’m an employee first and a person second and none of us are used to it and it feels like and often is just a bunch of people flaunting their money to us poor poor people and acting like cunts
#considering this website’s reading comprehension i don’t hate immigrants#but i do hate that anyone can get citizenship after two years wdym they can vote that’s so fucked up#i just despise the entitlement and to paint the picture if we’re closing in half an hour none of our people would dream of sitting down the#would take whatever as takeout and apologize probably but the other day i told this russian couple that#we’re closing in 15 minutes when they said they’ll eat here and their response was oh that’s not an issue like darling i have to mop the#floor and clean the espresso machine and wash the dishes and be out of here at 9:00 YOU are being an issue to ME
7 notes
·
View notes
Note
im gonna explode, im waiting so patiently for that radiohusk roofie fic
thnk u bby. I worry that I'm going to lose whatever momentum I have going rn and not actually finish it all the way through(like I almost always have done lol) Probably gonna post the drunk/coercion bit as chapter 1 and eventually get wild with the roofie/somno shit after, still gotta research that stuff also. Anyway
here's a snippy of the garbage I got so far, *tips hat* for ur troubles
#alastor: *physically incapable of apologizing* alright i guess we have no choice but to settle this with rape#husk: why the absolute fuck would that be a way to solve anything#alastor: idk cuz we're in hell?? if u don't wanna we don't have to-#husk: i didn't say that#text distorter is fun#no idea if i should like be using it from a technical standpoint but whos gonna stop me#husk is russian because russian is a fun sounding language#i think this fic is gonna end up being like 3-4k?? is that a lot no not really but im doing my best#i literally haven't written anything in 4 years cuz i got too sad over accidentally deleted a multichap thing i worked rlly hard on#radiohusk#fic wip#my writing#anon
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
if i met tchaikovsky i would bake him my finest bread and then kiss him on the mouth to show my gratitude
#i hope i walk down the aisle to marche slave at my wedding#sisjiwh listening to it rn and frothing at the mouth#and like. 1812 overture???? fucking kidding me?!#the russian dance from the nutcracker makes me lose my mind#and on a completely different note#have you HEARD le cygne?????????#that would be the more reasonable one to get married to#but no marche slave for the wedding for me#anyways sorry for autism posting#DISCLAIMER i don’t know ANYTHING about my boy pyotr as like a person#if he is a terrible human sincerest apologies i am simply vibing to the tunes#tchaikovsky#orating!
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Give Me Five" - Choso Kamo
4,591 words.
₊˚༊*·˚ warnings. nsfw (18+), ice-hockey player! choso, bestfriend's brother trope, p in v, resolved sexual tensions, foreplay, fingering, titty sucking, choso fucks you in his jersey, orgasm denial, praising, hair pulling, rough play, nsfw links (underlined), spitting kink, mirror play, feral choso
₊˚༊*·˚ notes. I absolutely enjoyed making this special request for @moonriseoverkyoto! thank you all so much for 700 followers ^^ included a link for you lovelies as a gift, hehe I hope to send more work your way soon :) thank you for the love and support this whole month!
rightful art credits to @/kmskc_f, @/yume041624, @/elcheggen, @/uoru1_juju (all on twt)!
(russian translation) - creds to @juliabelll 🩷
Goosebumps formed all over your skin as you were met with the coldness of the rink. Bits of regret filled you for being stubborn this morning, choosing to not wear extra layers. Squinting, you look around to find a close friend of yours, not too far a figure jumping up and down catches your eye.
"Hey! Over here- I'm here!" Yuji called to you in his typical, chirpy voice. Multiple heads turned to the sudden commotion, followed by another look to your direction. Embarrassed, you facepalm; whispering quiet apologies to others as you squeeze past the row of seats, making your way over.
"Yuji!- I got caught in traffic. Did I miss anything?" You fold down the seat next to him, the excited Yuji passing you another one of those generic team jerseys that he also had on. You take a good look at it before putting the garment over your head, the team colours being black and yellow.
Beside you, the boy rummages through a large plastic bag of popcorn. "Mmph- No- My brother would be happy if he knew- You were here." His eyes were wide open and alert, observing the game like a hawk.
"..Ah, it's nothing. If I didn't go, I would have been rotting at home." You giggled, knowing the real answer. As soon as Yuji sent the text, 'wanna go to my brother's game next weekend?'. You had to go. You've been dying to go. Ever since you met Choso for the first time, you made good use of every opportunity you had to see him.
He had an unforgettable face, and a dreamy body you'd sometimes, and shamelessly catch a glimpse of from time to time. But you were doubting, and unsure if the feeling was mutual. The man was busy, which drove you to think he had no time for a woman in his life.
You fixate your head to the rink in front of you. Of course, you got a hold of the best seats. Yuji being the brother of a world renowned hockey player had it’s benefits.
The same bag of popcorn lands firmly onto your lap, Yuji reaching for the soda cup underneath his foot. "Hmm, he looks pissed though. I think I know why." He leans back, index finger scratching at his head.
You furrow your brows, taking several glances around the ice. A familiar back faced you, 'Kamo' and '12' plastered onto the behind of his jersey. Dark hair effortlessly left down, not too much going on. A couple loose strands falling onto his face, Choso looked like a dream. Yuji beside you shrieks for his name, cheering his brother on.
Choso spins around, glaring at the audience. He was outraged, and you weren't sure why. He didn't dare smile, or wave. Yuji grunts at his brothers reaction, smile fading and slouching back down onto the seat.
"..Oh, I get what you mean now." It was undeniable that Choso was a different person behind his helmet, and that he took the sport seriously. He always wanted to make everyone proud. As one of the best players on his team, everyone counted on him, so there was a generous amount of pressure on his shoulders.
The screeching blow of a whistle shrills throughout the arena for half time, Choso violently shoving his hockey stick onto the ice. Plenty of teammates approach him, others choose to not get involved. Either way, he shoves past them. Everyone around you seemed confused, wondering what made him so agitated. You watched as he cursed to his higher-ups, hands strongly gripping onto the side wall.
"Every day, I fucking hate this sport more and more." Choso speaks through gritted teeth, angrily ripping off his helmet. "Piece of shit."
The staff team stands aside, ushering him out of the rink. His coach guides him over to the side bench, crouching down to give him a typical, motivational chat. Choso only puts his head down and into his gloved hands, becoming more and more annoyed by the second.
"Kamo- you know what? Bring your ass back to the locker room and give yourself five." Not knowing what to do, his coach decides it was best for him to blow off some steam. Not letting out another word, he storms off back into the locker rooms, the crowds groaning as he does so; the privacy invading camera focusing on him.
Chatter filled the air between the crowds around you. “..What happened to him? Your brother just stormed off.” You turn to Yuji, confused and filled with millions of questions.
"No clue, but I'm still a bit hungry." Yuji sighs, looking at the now empty plastic bag of popcorn. He takes a sip of what's left in his soda cup.
"..What? You are?" You look through your purse for some money. More than enough, that's for sure. A wrinkled twenty bill was tucked away inside. "Here- I'll go and get you something. It's on me."
You could've sworn that you had seen happiness twinkle in his eyes. This boy certainly loves to eat. "..Really?" He smiles, in response you nod your head up and down.
"Yeah! Just give me five, I'll be back as soon as possible." You warmly confirm the offer and he nods, shortly before you had to endure the entire process squeezing your way back out of the row.
You walk off into the tunnel leading to the outside of the arena. So many halls, and I’m not even familiar with this place. The two minute stroll led you to nowhere anyways, resulting in you doubting yourself. “…Where’s the food court?” You pout, coming to the conclusion you had probably been walking in circles this whole time.
The next long corridor you were met with was filled with doors everywhere. Loads of them. “..Ah.. have I been here before?”
Walking past each door, you look around for anybody nearby who was able to provide some sort of guidance. Hopeless, there was no one at all. Until one door you had walked past was slightly open, the light on. Maybe someone was in there? You genuinely just wanted to get your hot dogs.
You retrace your steps backwards, the faint sound of two voices coming from the room. Curious, you peeked your head through the slight gap.
"I don't think I did my best out there." It was Choso, elbows on knees on a padded seat. Heaving heavily, pulling the last strings of himself together. His coach with arms crossed in front of him. The conversation was hard to make out, but you were still able to put together some bits of it.
Clutching tightly onto your necklace, you couldn't help but feel concerned. Choso adored this sport with his entire heart, but so much he didn't have time to do anything else. Yuji always talked about how distant he could be when preparing for the new season.
The cursing stops, and before you know it, the door in front of you was wide open; framing you to look like an absolute snoop. You howl, instantly stepping back from the door frame. The same coach stood in front of you, an appalling look on his face. "Who the hell are you?! A money hungry reporter? Guards!-"
You nervously laugh, "Oh- No, no- I'm not a-", endless words were coming out of your mouth in a complete babble.
"..I know her." Choso who was watching everything unfold, tilted his head to the side, looking to see who was at the door.
The coach looks at you with an unamused expression, giving Choso a double look. His voice grows low, speaking in a discreet manner. "How about you talk it out with him. He needs it." He says before walking away from the frame, giving you a stare down as he does so.
Dumbfounded, a string of words only come out in a disoriented patter, "..I was just, looking for the.. concession stand.."
Choso on the other hand, keeps quiet. Blankly staring at the carpeted floor. His gloves and skates were off, but his jersey still on. You gulp, considering if you should speak anymore; scared that you'll only tick him off further.
Your hands rested in each of your palms, unsure whether you should step inside. "..I'm here with your brother, actually- cause he invited me to-"
"I know. I wanted you to come. I invited you, I told him to ask you." Choso speaks lowly, his tone different from when he was talking to the coach. He lets out a labored sigh, mumbling. "..Only for me to play like absolute shit,"
Processing what he had just said, it still changed your entire perspective. You didn't know how to think of it though, so you simply looked over it.
Deciding to approach him rather than standing at the door like some stranger, you close the door behind you. Recalling the coach talking about 'money hungry reporters', you didn't want to take any chances. "..I don't mean to pry, but do you want to talk about.. this?" Sitting down on the free seat beside Choso, you were careful with your choice of words. You didn't want to dig the hole any deeper. Making yourself comfortable, you set your bag away to the side and faced him.
Choso's voice was more soft, and it wasn't as stern to when he was talking to his coach. "..I just don't approve of how I'm performing lately."
Personally, you didn't know much about ice hockey. Nor did you store any valuable advice for it in your brain. It pained you to think that if you were to give him advice, you'd sound like a typical high school guidance counselor.
"Oh, well um.." You purse your lips, trying to come up with something to say. "Is it because you're.. stressed?" Still unsure of what to do, your hand slowly makes its way onto the flat of his back; slowly rubbing shapes all over to comfort him.
"Probably." Although his voice was now mellow, Choso's replies were becoming short and quick. You were afraid that this talking out was of no use to him.
Your hand stops its movements, "..Should you do something about it? Like let it out?", Choso lifts his head up, turning to you. A gulp forces down your throat at how intense he was eyeing you, your own eyes unable to hold contact.
Choso blinks, head turning away once again to rest his chin on his palm. "..I don't know how." That was his problem, Choso wasn't good at letting out his emotions. He usually bottled them up, and solved his personal problems on his own— you could almost refer to him as a stoic being.
Clearing your throat, you bite your lower lip to try and think of something. You gave him the advice, but you didn't know the method yourself. This is why I could never be a therapist.
You mentally curse at yourself, trying to come up with a suggestion that isn't so cheesy like, do what you love to do!
"..I don't know either.. Me- I guess?" A worried expression washes over your face, a mazed Choso turning his head to you for the second time.
A perplexed, questioning noise came stirred up in him. "Huh? What do you mean?"
Eyes fluttering, you were unable to provide him with another answer. What did you mean by, 'me'? Was it just another one of those moments where you let your mouth speak before you think? "..You could let it out.. on me?"
Chosos demeanor had altered, his chin peeling away from the warmth of his palm. His body sat upright as he looked at you, his lips slightly parted. You couldn't tell if he was mortified or enthralled; and you were almost begging for him to say something.
He closes his mouth and swallows some spit to nourish his dried out throat, before standing up in front of you. You feel as if your beating heart were to take over your entire body and head any second now. A lingering tension in the air so thick— not even a lumberjack could saw through it.
Choso's eyes surveying you from top to bottom, studying the features on your face— his thumb swipes across your cheek in a tender, reassuring matter. He was grateful of your offer, but he just couldn't bring himself to directly accept it.
Choso's hand slowly moves down your face, the tip of his thumb gently pressing down on your lower lip. "..You look good in our jersey," His thumb forces the rest of its way into your mouth, "..but even better if it was my own." Was this a code phrase for, 'I need to fuck you, and I need to fuck you now?' His thoughts drifted off to filthy things—like imagining himself rutting into you in his own, bespoke jersey, 'Kamo' in a dirty gold written on your back as you take him whole like a good girl.
Your breath hitches, his finger gliding over the surface of your tongue before he decides to pull it back out. Choso starts to take off the gear on his upper half, both the body pads and jersey.
It was difficult enough to keep your eyes off the now, half naked Choso in front of you. His body muscular and perfectly carved from all of the work he's been putting in for preparation, Choso was more than pleasing to look at. He tosses his jersey and gear beside you, his hands grabbing onto the flesh of your waist.
Lifting you from the seat, you wrap your legs around his torso, lips desperately locking onto each other as he switched positions. The two of you now sitting back down on the seat.
Short mewls and gasps for air leave your mouth as you started to pull your top over your head; Choso's hands roaming all over the surface of your ass. Your hands travel down his chest, your finger tips tracing over his abs painfully slow. Tongues tangling, Choso swallowing any moan he could get from you, especially after the distressingly slow period of yearning for one another. It felt like a reward.
Being the skilled man he is, his fingertips undo the clasp of your bra effortlessly. Groaning in satisfaction, eyes closed and sucking; a free hand fondling with the other.
You claw your fingers through his hair, quietly moaning as he hungrily latched onto your nipple. Arching against his bare skin, you ached to keep him close, and possibly closer. Amidst the sucking, Choso reaches for his jersey beside him, gesturing you to put it over your head. He fulfilled his wish. You proudly raise your arms up, feeling the fabric graze against your skin. It was quite massive on you, hence himself being twice your size.
Impatient, your curious hands wander off to the waistband of his pants; his safety gear already being off had made it easier. Reaching down and past his skin tight shorts, a thought evoking in you causing your hand to withdraw.
"..W-wait," You pant, "What about everyone out there?" You couldn't help but worry about those outside who would start to get suspicious. You knew how much this mattered to him.
Choso rolls his eyes. "I don't really care, they're assholes anyway. Let them wait." His lips only make its way back onto the skin of your neck, warm breath fanning down your sternum. He didn't care if everyone else were to wait outside. He had been waiting for this moment, dreaming about it - and would do anything to not miss it.
Using two hands, you possessively grab onto his jaw to keep him closer, Choso's hands cheekily moving up inside the jersey and cupping onto both of your tits. He really loves them, doesn't he?
Pulling away for another breath your lips miss his already. You hop off his lap, hastily unbuttoning and kicking off your jeans. They fly away to the other side of the locker room, Choso pulling you back into his embarace. But this time, you were facing the other way.
His fingers tug onto the hem of your panties, pulling them back until they snapped against your skin; the stinging sound echoing throughout the room.
You intently watch yourself in the full length mirror across from you two, Choso using his hands to guide your legs open; his head falling onto the crook of your neck.
Choso's hand slowly made its way down to the your panties, his fingertips moving the fabric to the side. Toying with your folds, taking his sweet time. His delicate, addicting touch giving you shivers all over. You close your eyes to indulge in the ecstasy of this moment; scolding yourself for not doing this with him any sooner.
His same fingertips circle your clit, the speed of his movements fluctuating; which resulted in you grabbing onto his bicep, your body sinking down into his lap. Choso watches you break into pieces under his touch, how you repeatedly tap on his arm- asking for leniency.
Choso leans down to your ear, his throaty voice almost sounding like he's purring. “Just relax for me, I can feel you’re too tensed up.” Wasn’t it supposed to be me who gives him advice? Why is it that the roles have reversed?
The back of your head presses deeply into his chest, Choso bringing retrieving fingers give them a generous suck before pushing them into you. His fingers curl up inside, working them in a motion that emits a squelching noise.
“C-Choso, it’s too much- please,” A whimper crawls out of your throat, the man above you cooing and hushing you.
Your hair raising pleas being the catalyst for him only wanting to do more than he already is. His middle finger taps and teases and your bundle of nerves, his strength making your tug on his wrist pointless. “..Shh, you don’t want them to hear, do you?”
You frantically shake your head from side to side, Choso grinning against the top of your head as he had you wrapped around his finger. Cock straining against his shorts, he would take a photo to make this memory last.
His gestures come to a halt and you whine, Choso had forbidden you from orgasming. "Choso!" You hiss as he glues his hands to your hips, twirling you around against the seat.
Mindfully pressing onto the flat of your lower back, he bends you forward; in need of support, your hands reached for the wooden slabs that divided the seats. His strong hands rip your underwear into fragments off your body, Choso sneering at you nagging him.
His actions in no rush, the same hands that were cupping your pussy now feeling down your back, Choso sheepishly grinning at this fresh new view, a degree of gratification fills him for the hundredth time at the sight of 'Kamo' and '12' plastered on your back.
You reach behind you, barely tapping your fingers on Choso's pelvis to grab his attention. He leans down to hear what you had to say, the imprint of his cock imprisoned by his shorts pressed against your bare pussy.
“..Let it all out, I promise I’ll be okay.” Your hand snaked behind his head, fingers combing through his hair one last time. His body heat glossed over your behind, a position so intimate.“Just tell me if I’m hurting you, alright?”
Nodding in approval, Choso withdraws into his old position. Grabbing for his girthy cock out of his shorts, he groans as he jerks it ever so slightly. Forming an orb of spit on his tongue, letting it fall directly onto his length. He doesn't waste anymore time to slide it in, the objective of not hurting you still at the back of his mind.
You let out a long, awaited whimper that broke out into a pained sniffle, his entire length stretching you out. Your anchoring onto the wooden panels only grew stronger, Choso stilling in you for a few moments. The two of you create a symphony of guilty satisfaction, Choso himself unable to process that you let him inside of you; luckiest man in the world, he thought.
His grip on the plush of your waist transition into a soothing massage, “..Are you okay?” Concerned, he regards your strained noises.
Tears well up in your eyes, Choso rubbing his hands up and down your back. “..I-I’m fine.” You replied, managing to form some words. Even though it hurts, you didn't want him to stop. You wanted this as much as he did. He inhales deeply, grunting as his hips stroked into you slow and deep. He took you in like a work of art, savoring every minute, second with you.
“Fuck, Choso- just go faster will you? I know you want to.” You choke out, words dying in your throat. Choso obeying the green llight, you felt him grab and twist onto the fabric of the jersey behind you, his hips snapping into you at a faster pace.
A cacophony of skin slapping and moaning echoed throughout the room, Choso brings his hand down to toy with your clit; heightening your stimulation. Your entire body jolting with each of his thrusts, his little praises like 'good girl', and 'you're taking me so well' making your sex pool like mad.
Broken and choppy curses slip past your wet llips, Choso letting go of the jersey and fixing his grip on your scalp, pulling your head back towards him.
His hand sneaks underneath your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact as you furrow your brows up at him. Your mouth stays wide open, moans no longer heard coming out from it. "Look at me baby," lids shut at the colossal pleasure, Choso needs not to repeat himself; but he does. "I said, look at me," Hauling your eyelids up, a vision of Choso glaring down at you from above— he wasn't the same person as the one half an hour ago.
Choso drops yet another ball of spit into your mouth, patting on the bottom of your chin telling you to shut and swallow, letting out a throaty sound in approval.
Clawing his fingers back into your scalp, he pushes your head back down. His leg lands onto the seat beside you, his thrusts brutally drilling into you deeper than before; Choso definitely rearranging your guts. You let him use you, so he did exactly that. Hell- if you two had a bed, just make sure you have enough saved for a new one the next day.
Makeup was unfortunately ruined from tears and spit, your hair no longer in perfect style from all the grabbing. His heavy balls relentlessly slapped against your clit, Choso huffing quietly.
He takes a hold of your two wrists, prying you from the comfort of the seat and commanding you to stand. Hypnotised, you watched everything unfold; Choso still holding onto your arms behind you as he continued to rut into your hole like a mad man.
Your cheeks were stained with tears, all sorts of unimaginable feelings stirring in the pool of your stomach; Choso already grows bored of the position. He swiftly lides you off his cock, turning you around for the fifth time today so he could see your beautiful face one more time.
Unsure of what was to happen next, you tiringly wrap both of your hands around his neck as he cupped onto the surface of your ass, lifting you up and sinking you down onto his cock. Your head rests against his chest in exhaustion, Choso’s anchored grip slowly loosening, choosing to move into the inside of your legs. Short paced breaths and eyes shutting at the new sensation of him fucking up into you. It was light work to him, carrying you was no problem at all.
Pushing both of you against a nearby wall, your back almost slid up and down the cold panels as Choso grew feral, his cock bullying but thoughtfully kissing your cervix at this unforgiving pace.
You fail to keep your eyes open, body taken over by bliss as he bottoms into you, convinced you had lost your voice. Choso could feel your silky juices move down his shaft, walls constantly clenching around around him.
“Don’t you dare close those eyes,” Choso orders, your hands hysterically tapping onto his shoulders to let him know you were going to snap. Your face winced in pain, you knew that you were going to have a hard time walking for the next week or two.
“..C-Choso,” you choke out, a threshold about to be met as the unfamiliar coil in your stomach urges to let loose.
His thrusts deepening to push you over the edge, cock sloppily moving in and out of your hole; his entire length coated with you.
“Just let it out— let it out.” he desperately whimpered, your mouth forming an ‘o’. His words like a spell, something that will haunt you for days coming. Choso’s eyes faux-sympathetically looking into yours that were blinking like mad as he felt your legs shiver in his grasp.
You shatter and cry at the orgasm that washed over you, bringing yourself to look at his cock withdrawing from your puffy, used cunt. Choso's jaw clenched, beads of white endlessly form at his tip, his balls twitching at the same time your gummy walls pulsed and throbbed around him.
He doesn’t let go of you, bodies still overheating and glistening from sweat. Instead he carries you back to the seats, sitting you down like a fragile porcelain doll. “My legs,” your voice raspy from the endless moaning, “..they’re so sore.”
Choso leans in for a meaningful kiss, your cock-dazed smile forming against his lips. His hands kneading your thighs. The locker room smelled of filthy, sinful sex—but that will just air out in no time. “..You need me to walk you out?”
“Choso, you can’t. There are cameras everywhere.” You grab your purse off the ground, in search of your phone. Almost forty five minutes have passed, your eyes widening. “Huh?! How long have I been gone for?"
He attempts to wipe the stained carpets, a faint white still engraved. Atleast he tried. “Pussy too good I forgot where I was, I’m not gonna lie.”
“Not funny, Choso. I need to get back to your brother!” Scurrying around the room, you pick your jeans off the ground, Choso whistling behind you causing you to turn your head,
“..Guess these aren’t of use to you anymore?” He holds the fragments of your panties up, torn to pieces, the dismaying mempry angering you as you were reminded of it for the second time.
You snap at him, Choso not taking any inch of you seriously. I mean, he literally had you whimpering, fucked you in his jersey and melting under his touch less than five minutes ago. “You fucking owe me a new pair.”
“I’ll buy you a hundred.”
You hurry out into the lobby, looking around for Yuji. Not having time to fix your hair, you almost scream as you walked past a reflection of yourself, mortified at how you looked. It’s okay… he wouldn’t suspect anything, right?
A familiar coral haired person was lounging at the sofas down the end, of course that had to be him. “Y-Yuji? is that you?” The head turning to your direction, it definitely was him; his eyes were shocked to still see you alive and standing before him.
You sit on the free armchair beside him, “..I’m so sorry, something just.. happened.” Nervously smiling, you wipe the residues of dried spit off your chin, your head stuck in one direction to avoid looking at Yuji in the face. Airing yourself with an invisible fan, you look away in all sorts of directions.
“It’s cool, the game got cancelled anyways- and I got my hotdogs.” He points to the four empty wrappers on the table in front of him. Yuji leans back against the sofa.
“..Uh— ..Is that, Choso's jersey?"
Fuck.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me, ily guys sm!!🎀🩷
[luvwestwood masterlist]
#choso kamo smut#choso smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk smut#choso kamo x reader#choso x you#choso kamo#choso x reader#jujutsu kaisen choso
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
my sweet assistant
- professor!natasha x lawyer!wanda x reader
part summary: you take a position in assisting professor romanoff after classes to make up for a missed assignment. your flustered state only continues as you’re forced to spend one-on-one time with her, even more so when her wife is introduced into the equation…
part warning(s): teacher/student relationship, age gap (r is of age), power dynamics, married wandanat (no cheating), pet names, mentions of anxiety, mentions of bad family relations, minor death, funeral etc. minors dni
authors note: this took me a bit longer to write and release than i would have liked thanks to my broken arm and writers block so apologies for that. but even tho i kinda hate it, it’s here now, so i hope you enjoy! :)
part two of the inescapable love series
inescapable love series
･ ｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･
11.5K words
People say life comes with its ups and downs, something you had come to learn was rather true, but why did it always seem the downs came at the worst of times? A call from your mother was never really a good sign to begin with, usually her nagging being the only thing waiting on the other end of the line, but this time when you picked up and heard what she had to say, not good turned to terribly bad. It wasn’t the extent of the problem as such that worried you, more so the timing. Your Russian class had an assignment coming up, due in less than a week, and thinking you had enough time to get round to it, you still hadn’t started. Something that would have been totally fine if not for your mom’s name popping up on your phone last night and sharing news that would throw your entire schedule off.
The way your mom had picked up the phone had immediately informed you something was wrong, but a death announcement was certainly the last thing you had been expecting to hear on a Sunday night. It was your grandmother, on your dad’s side. She’d passed away over the weekend, finally giving up on the hospice care she’d been dependent on for months. The news itself hadn’t been too much of a shock, the old woman’s health deteriorating for years, and it didn’t much upset you either. You’d never really been close to your grandmother, your brother being the one favoured from your family, keeping you distanced whenever you visited her house. Your teenage self had already mourned for the relationship you had never had and that felt more painful than the actual loss in front of you now.
The main thing concerning your mind now was how you were going to complete your assignment. On the phone, your mom had told you she’d already booked the flights for you coming home, prepared for the funeral just that week, a quick turn around due the arrangements been made in advance from the anticipation of her death. It would see you in England the entirety of the week, leaving tomorrow afternoon and not returning until late Friday evening. Even with the extra days you had at home, the funeral tea and family gatherings would no doubt leave you no time at all to complete your assignment.
You knew what you had to do now, had done it many times before for other classes, but something about this time felt more intimidating. As you sat in the lecture theatre, watching your professor teach at the front of the class, your heart pounded in your chest at the thought of asking for the extension. More time alone would have to be spent with your Russian professor, the last time still lingering unwanted in your mind. The thought of speaking to her one on one once more was enough to send your anxious mind into a frenzy.
Desperately, you tried to cling on to the reality of things as your lesson continued. It was the day of the week where your class would practice your Russian speaking, conversing with one another whilst Professor Romanoff would walk around, listening in and correcting any mispronunciations. In the end, it would build up to the speaking exam the end of semester held, a private conversation that each student would have with your professor which was then graded alongside your written tests.
The girl sat beside you had claimed the spot as your partner when the first speaking lesson had started up, thankfully not the same girl who’d passed you dirty looks after your perfectly scored paper. The two of you worked through the worksheet in front of you, sounding out the words and building them up into a conversation. Your partner seemed slower than you to grasp the concepts, but you found you didn’t quite mind, allowing your thoughts the moments in between to plan exactly how you’d make your request to Professor Romanoff.
When the class had finally drawn to a close, everyone began packing up their things, worksheets handed back down towards the front. Professor Romanoff stood against her desk, collecting papers as she shouted out across the clamouring hall. “Remember your assignment is due on Friday everyone. Do not use google translate. I can tell!”
It seemed your class wasn’t paying her announcement much notice, instead focused on making it out of the double doors and out into the corridor. Like you had done before, you packed away your things slowly, lingering in the row of seats until almost everyone had left the room. Only when the last few stragglers were close to the door, did you begin your descent towards the central desk. Professor Romanoff stood wiping clean the board once again, back facing you. This time, however, you cleared your throat to make your presence known. The woman’s face was slightly bewildered as she turned, melting away immediately as she spied you standing across the way, a smile appearing on her lips instead. “Miss Y/L/N,” she said, wiping the chalk dust away from her hands and turning back to close the distance between you. “Is everything alright?”
"Uhm, yes," you said nervously, watching as the woman came to stand in front of you. "Well...no, but-" You shook your head, attempting to dispel the anxious thoughts that clouded your brain. Fingers began to fidget as you looked back up at your professor with a nervous smile. "I was wondering if I could possibly get an extension for the assignment?" The redhead in front of you raised a single brow, looking inquisitive to your scenario and hence, drawing more of and explanation from your chest. "It's just my grandma passed away and I have to fly back to England for her funeral this week. I'm not going to be back till Friday night and with all the travelling and family stuff and jet lag, I probably won't have enough time to do it." Your hands gestured about, trying to find anything else to do rather than anxiously pick at your nail beds. "I don't need a long extension, maybe just till Monday? I can get it done over the weekend when I'm back."
The spill of words finally fell short in the silent room, your blurting echoing ever so slightly in the emptiness of the hall. Professor Romanoff stood in front of you, today wearing a matching black skirt and blazer, a white shirt neatly tucked in. "I'm sorry to hear about your grandmother." Your gaze raised up to the pair of green eyes as she spoke, a soft expression held between her features. "Are you doing alright?"
The question had came unexpectedly. You shook your head as you answered. "Oh yeah, I'm fine." You smiled sheepishly, shrugging your shoulders. "We were never close."
"Well," Professor Romanoff replied, gaze softening further. "I'm still sorry to hear about her." She passed you a gentle smile as she stepped towards her desk, leaning against the front of it like it seemed she had a habit of doing. When she looked back up at you, her expression had changed. "As for an extension..." Her emerald stare met yours, always seemingly able to make you shy away. "You're a good student Y/N, so I'd really like to say yes, but unfortunately I have a policy against extensions."
Your memory fleeted back to the first day of class, suddenly recalling the rules your professor had set out. Extensions would only be given to those with medical absence, provided they had a document signed by a health professional. Only remembering that now, you felt entirely stupid for asking for the extension in the first place. "That's right," you blurted. "I'm so sorry, I totally forgot. Listen, forget I even said anything." You adjusted the straps of your backpack as you made to turn your body towards the door. "I'll try get it done on the plane or something. Thank you anyway."
You made it about three steps away before you heard your name being called out from behind you. Slowly, you turned your shoulders, looking back at the woman who still sat against her desk. "Yes, Miss Romanoff?" you called in response. A single manicured nail raised up, the finger curling to beckon you back in the direction you'd came. Biting down on the skin of your cheek, you turned fully, slowly closing the gap that had formed between you and your professor. When you stood in front of her again, you began to rub one of your arms nervously.
Professor Romanoff inclined her head towards you, a faint smile on her painted lips. "I can't give you an extension but I can offer you an alternative. Some extra credit that will cover the assignment, worth the same percentage of your grade. And I'll even give you the full marks."
Your head angled in both curiosity and uncertainty. The prospect of the extra credit sounded like just what you needed, but you couldn't quite grasp the notion that your professor was suggesting. "Full marks?" you asked. "As in, a hundred percent on the assignment?"
A painted smirk pulled at the corner of your professor's mouth, her body leaning ever so slightly closer to yours. "Don't act like it's such a miracle, sweetie. We both know what you're capable of, hm?"
As her words hit you, you could immediately feel the warmth they brought to your cheeks. Face feeling flushed, you tried to distract your brain, unfocusing on the perfect pair of lips still smirking in your direction. "What would I have to do for the extra credit?"
Professor Romanoff sighed, adjusting herself on the desk. You diverted your eyes as her arms crossed her body, once again pushing her slightly-revealed cleavage up against her chest. "Well, my assistant for this year pulled out on me last minute, which has left me just drowned in work." Green eyes met yours as a wide smile spread across the redhead's lips. "So, just give me a helping hand after class for a few weeks and the credit is all yours."
This proposal seemed almost too good to be true. Simply helping out your professor in turn for a perfect grade? It almost didn't seem fair. As you thought over her offer, the idea couldn't help but make you feel a little flustered. After all it would entail spending time alone with the red haired woman, something that seemed to leave you an oddly ruffled mess. But the entire thing sounded far too good to pass up, an opportunity practically laid out on a silver platter. Sounding easy enough to follow through with, you nodded your head with a smile. "Yeah, I can do that."
The smile on Professor Romanoff's face widened at your agreement. "Perfect," she said, green eyes glinting. "Can I see you back here next Monday? Say...three pm?"
You nodded once more. "Yeah. That works for me."
"Alright then," the redhead replied. She stood up from her desk, smiling down on you from the height accentuated by her heeled boots. "Don't you worry your pretty head about the assignment and I'll just see you here next week."
The words seemed to wash over you with a flush, something igniting inside that you couldn't quite put a finger on. Nervously, you looked to the floor, picking at the ends of your jumper while Professor Romanoff moved to stand behind her desk, seemingly unaware of your heightened nervousness. Before you could properly formulate a response, the other woman was already speaking once more. "Go on then. Don't want to be late for your next class do you?"
Her words seemed to shake you back to the present, that nervous little smile appearing on your face again. "Right," you said, adjusting your backpack. "Thank you, professor."
She smiled back at you. "It's no problem, honey. Now run along."
You found yourself nodding as you turned to leave, urged on by her commands. A few steps away she called out to you. "Take care of yourself, Y/N."
You looked back over your shoulder, flashing a small smile. "I will Miss Romanoff. Thank you." And with that, you were walking out the door, headed towards your next class with you mind focused on what exactly your assistant duties with Professor Romanoff may entail.
———
"When are you back again?"
"Friday night. About nine-ish?"
You passed the raven-haired girl a quick glance over your shoulder as you continued to fold the items of clothing in your hand. A loud sigh filled the space as you heard Kate roll over in her bed, rustling the top of her sheets. "That's four whole days of you leaving me completely alone."
As you placed the last of your clothes into the open suitcase, you swiveled around to look at Kate. Your brow furrowed as you noticed your best friend sprawled dramatically across the covers. "Kate, you do realised we have other friends?" you replied with a soft sigh.
But it seemed the girl took no notice, throwing her hand up to cover her eyes as another noise of discomfort slipped from her lips. "I'm gonna look like such a loser at breakfast." The truth was that the pair of you did have more friends at university, with whom Kate could definitely speak to while you were away, despite how the majority of the time it was always just the two of you. This could be down to the fact you were the only ones still sharing a dorm on campus, most of your friends having moved out to apartments around the city. You and Kate had looked into that option but your loan wasn't enough to cover the rent, so you'd both settled to remain in the on-campus accommodation, still sharing your meals in the wide dining hall.
You sighed again. "I'm sorry my grandma dying is such an inconvenience to you." At that, Kate shot up in bed, immediately looking less irritated and instead concerned. The way you smiled playfully back at her, however, made her brows drop ever so slightly, the fear of her actions hurting you slipping away. You'd already told her you weren't all that bothered by the passing, more so annoyed by the bother of it all, but it seemed despite how dramatic she could be, Kate was still worried about your feelings. "Relax Bishop," you said, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. "You know I'm kidding. I hate the fact I'm going just as much as you do." With all the hustle of trying to get through your work that day, you hadn't had much time to think about the reality of going home. Now packing your things, the dread of it all was beginning to settle on your shoulders. Still, you forced a smile on your lips as you walked across to Kate's bed, sitting yourself down next to her. "I'm sorry I'm leaving but I'll make it up to you, yeah?"
Just then, a spark seemed to light up in Kate's eyes. She turned to you, a wide smirk plastered on her lips. "Will you come to a party with me?" The proposal was one Kate often brought up, and one that was just as often shut down. Whenever Kate was getting ready to go out for a night, you were always cooped up in your textbooks, ignoring her complaints of how you studied too much and focusing instead on memorising every piece of material on the paper. For three years, your best friend has had to drag you to every party you'd ever been to, sometimes even snatching the book from your hands and then pleading you with puppy dog eyes. Those same eyes looked at you now, silently begging.
"Fine," you said finally, causing Kate to throw her hands up in the air. You raised your hand before her excitement could get out of hand. "But only one and not until after midterms."
The girl looked slightly disheartened but her smile still remained wide. "Fine," she replied, looking to already be planning the event she'd drag to you in a few weeks time. As Kate settled herself back in her bed, you stood to cross the room, returning to your almost-packed suitcase. You placed the last item in one side - a long black coat Kate had let you borrow to wear to the funeral - then zipped up the first half. All the other half was missing was your toiletries bag, of which would have to wait until the morning to be packed. As you were closing things up, you threw a comment to Kate over your shoulder. "I spoke to my Russian professor today about that extension for the assignment, remember?"
You heard Kate's head turn towards you, becoming distracted from her party planning. "Oh yeah, what'd she say?"
As the final zip on your suitcase closed, you turned back around to your best friend. "She doesn't really do extensions so she said I can help out after class instead to make up my grade."
Kate's brow furrowed. "What, like an assistant?"
"Yeah, exactly. Hers apparently dropped out so I'm filling in for a few weeks." You bent down to push your suitcase under your bed, ready to go tomorrow morning, then stood again, shrugging your shoulders. "She said she'll give me the equivalent of full marks for the assignment."
"Wait, what?" Kate shot up in bed, her jaw hanging slack. "You just help her plan a couple lessons and get a free ride to a perfect score?"
You breathed out a laugh, not only at Kate's theatric tone but also at the improbable truth of the scenario. It hadn't really hit you until now how easy you had it, an exceptional gateway to an easy 'A'. "Yeah," you giggled out, taking a seat on your bed. "I mean, she said I'm a good student so she expected me to do well anyway." You tried to ignore the strange tingle in your head as you recounted your professor's words, instead focusing on Kate who flung herself up in her bed.
"Dude," she said, looking at you incredulously. Her eyes shifted, looking down to the floor. "Maybe I should have taken Russian this year."
Another laugh spilled from your lips as you stood, closing the gap between you and your best friend. "I think you should focus on the classes you're already taking." Your hand reached out for Kate's pulling her up from her bed before she could get a chance to reply. "Now, let's go get dinner. I'm starving."
———
The setting sun streamed in through the wide windows of Natasha's office. The entire room was painted in a soft orange glow, guiding the redhead as she finally began to pack up for the night. Today had been a long day for her, her daily schedule packed and evening full of essay marking that needed to be completed by tomorrow. Finally, Natasha had managed to get finished up, closing her laptop and packing away her notes for the night. She tucked them away into her bag to bring to work the next day before shutting off the lamp inside the room and retiring from her office for the night.
Her feet padded across the wooden floors as she made her way out of the home office. The sun's glow followed her, let in by the expansive windows her and Wanda's house contained. When she reached the living room, Natasha spied her wife curled up on the corner of their sofa, a blanket draped over her legs and an open book sat in her hands. Her footsteps were silent as she made her way over to the other redhead. Though she imagined her wife had still felt her approach, as she didn't flinch when Nat's hands came down for a hug from behind. Natasha's arms wrapped around her wife, a small hum escaping her lips as she pressed a gentle kiss to the pulse point of her neck. "Baby," Natasha whispered, her voice low. Wanda simply hummed in response, her eyes still focused on her novel, her attention only slightly skewed when Natasha leaned in closer, pressing more kisses down the skin of her neck.
"I need to speak to you about something." Natasha's voice remained low, her words fanning out on to her wife's collar bones. She'd been waiting for this moment now for a while, anticipating just the right time to bring up her scenario to her wife. The thoughts had been circling her head for a small while now, perhaps longer than she liked to admit, but she found she couldn't wait any longer to share.
"What is it, moya lyubov?" Wanda's eyes finally raised from her book, head turning over her shoulder to look up at her wife. Though, this position didn't last long, as Natasha lifted her legs and swung herself over the back of the couch, landing in a position beside her wife. This was a habit Wanda hated, forever telling Natasha to 'use her legs like an adult', but this time she didn't have time to pester the redhead as she'd already began to speak. "Do you remember that student we spoke about? The one that got the perfect score."
The slight look of annoyance from Nat's behavior was quickly replaced by an inquisitive expression as Wanda furrowed her brow. The redhead finally closed her book on her lap, sliding a bookmark into place. "Yeah, I do. What was her name again?"
"Y/N Y/L/N."
Wanda hummed, a small smiling appearing on her lips. "That's it. Cute name. What about her?"
Natasha inhaled, her mind passing over the already scripted conversation she'd created. "I spoke with her again today. Came in asking for an extension for an assignment." The redhead smiled, remembering the interaction from that morning. She took another deep breath before she uttered the next words from her mouth. "I think I've maybe taking a liking to her."
"Oh?" Wanda's eyebrows raised, her expression changing to one of surprise. It wasn't new that the couple were searching for someone else in their relationship, the openness of the topic having been in circulation almost since the two had first got together. But the surprise came from the fact Nat had perhaps found someone she believed could slot into their duo, her and Wanda's standards usually far too rigid to find anyone to spend more than a night with. If Natasha was bringing up a girl like this, she must have seriously considered the possibility of a longer association, and that thoroughly intrigued Wanda.
"Now," Natasha continued. "Of course I don't want to do anything we don't both agree on, but..." She paused for just a moment, smiling a little up at her wife. "I would be lying if I said I hadn't already been playing around with her. Just a little bit." Natasha held up her fingers, signaling the small amount of teasing she'd subjected her prized student to. "You know, I didn't want to come asking your permission for a girl who turned out to be a bore."
The more Natasha continued to talk, the more Wanda became interested and invested by the conversation at hand. She slowly slipped her book to the couch beside her, leaning in closer towards her wife. "And is she?"
A wide smirk appeared on Natasha's lips as she relished in her wife's question. "Not in the slightest." Her expression only deepened as she recalled the little moments of you she'd been observing in class. "She's so fucking cute," she said, stating the obvious right off the bat. "She's always early for class and always paying so much attention. She shows up in the sweetest little outfits, like she doesn't even know how good she looks." The redhead smiled as she remembered the sight of you in your small summer dresses or slightly oversized sweaters. "Oh," she said, reminded of her favourite bit of all. "And she has this adorable little English accent."
With the last of her wife's words, a similar looking smirk began to appear on Wanda's own face. "Well now I'm intrigued.”
Natasha smiled back at her words as she shrugged a shoulder. "As I said, I played around a little bit and Wands..." The redhead had to suppress a sigh as she reached for her wife's hand. "I just know how much fun she'd be," she continued, her voice almost a whine. "I mean, she gets flustered so easily. One little pet name and she's already hiding away her flushed face."
Wanda's smirk deepened as Natasha continued to talk, stirred further by the slight desperation she could hear in the redhead's voice. She had to wonder just how long she'd been wondering about this one student and just how much fun she was getting to have without her... "Go ahead, malysh," Wanda replied finally, squeezing her wife's hand gently. "I trust your instincts. You'll just have to introduce me sometime soon."
Natasha's brows shot up. "You're sure?"
"Yeah," Wanda chuckled back slightly, amused by the excitement underlying Nat's voice. When she spoke again, her lips had formed a devilish smirk. "It'll be fun. It's been a while since we had somebody to play with."
———
The funeral was awful. Of course, one never expects such an event to be the epitome of joy, but this particular funeral was like your own personally curated hell. Your entire family was gathered in one place, meaning not only were your parents’ critiques breathed down your neck the entire time, but they were also joined by those more distant. Grandparents and judgmental aunts seemed to team up on you, all obsessing over your university career and what your future plans were. Many pestered the question of your singularity, claiming that ‘a pretty young thing like you should have been swept up by a man a long time ago’. Unfortunately, the almost-compliment that could be found in their talk, was quickly diminished by the discussion of how it must be something wrong with your personality rather than your face, comments all whispered from where they thought you couldn’t hear.
There was no escape from the constant berating, your schedule full of family meals and teas, and far too lengthy conversations around the fireplace, of which you could not be excused due to your mother’s abhorrence of anyone ever thinking of her children as rude. To make matters worse, you were exhausted from jet lag and the flight, something certainly not helped by the endless hours of socializing and pressing on a smile for your family.
Still, you pushed through like the perfect daughter you always tried to be. You sat politely at the funeral, wearing an old black dress and Kate’s coat, the perfume of your best friend aiding a little to your torturous discomfort. Though your family cried, your eyes remained dry, silently staring at your feet and trying not to draw any attention to yourself. At the funeral tea, you shook hands and smiled softly at family members, answering any questions they asked with the grace your mother had forced upon your shoulders at a young age. Of course, she found her usual pride in parading you and your brother around like a pair of trophies she’d spent hours shining. The entirety of every event was exhausting.
Even at the will reading, there was no break to be given. Your late grandmother had graciously scattered her belongings to her loved ones, though seemingly biased to those who she deemed more palatable. Your brother received a chunk of her money alongside her old ring, something the family gushed over due to the prospect of his long-term girlfriend who he could now finally pop the big question to. Your rolled your eyes as they pandered over him, all blatantly dismissive of the old bible you’d been left, with your grandmother’s handwriting inside with a note of how she wished for it to be read out of at your wedding when you finally found yourself a suitable husband. You had simply rolled your eyes and shoved it to the bottom of your bag.
All that being said, it was a huge relief to you when you finally made your way back to the airport. Though you’d had to spend the journey constantly criticized by your mother about your uni work, as soon as you stepped on to the plane, relief was flooding over your shoulders. As the sky came to fill the widow, clouds passing by, you were more than grateful to be heading back to the true place you thought of as home.
Kate came to pick you up from the airport, hugging you immediately and beginning to rant about the idiots she’d encountered in the car park as she pulled your case towards the exit. The pair of you went straight to a mcdonald’s drive thru, your hunger unquenched from the bad aeroplane food you’d been offered. Fries and hamburgers were shared in the front seat of the car as you relayed back your awful week to Kate, telling her everything that you hadn’t even had the chance to text her due to your family’s never-ending nagging.
That weekend was very stressful. Due to the packed schedule you had followed back in England, you’d had next to no time to complete any of your work from that week. So, from morning until night, you cooped yourself up at your desk and ground it all out. At times, Kate had to drag you down to the hall for some food or persistently remind you to even go to bathroom. In the end however, you managed to get it all finished. By eleven o’clock Sunday night, you were finally all caught up from your missed classes and had completed all your deadlines. The light in the room were low, only your small desk lamp lighting up the space. Kate slept in her bed, hair fanning out across the pillows. You were quiet as you cleaned your space, eyeing the untouched plate of food Kate had brought up for you after you’d refused to go down for dinner. It was long cold now and you felt a little guilty throwing it out, but you were far too tired now to think about eating. Instead, you simply turned off the light and slid yourself into your bed, finally letting your mind rest and prepare itself to return to your regularly scheduled classes the next morning.
———
"Alright everyone, that's all for today's lesson. Are there any questions?"
Like always, the bustle began began your professor could even finish his sentence. Everyone was already packing away their things, drowning out the teacher's voice with their own hustle to leave. It happened almost every class, and almost every time you felt bad, one of the only people who remained still until they had officially dismissed you. But today, you found yourself following the crowd more than you usually would have. See, your professor had droned on a bit too long that afternoon, moving into the passing period you had between classes. Most times that wouldn't have been a big deal seeing as it was your last class of the day, but today was the day you were supposed to meet Professor Romanoff and thanks to your English professor's extensive elaborations, you were left with only a few minutes until you'd be late. So today you put your cares aside and as the class packed up, so did you, stuffing everything into your backpack and throwing it over your shoulder before joining the crowd exiting the lecture hall.
Your English building was on the exact opposite side of campus as your destination, so your feet held a quick pace as you flitted between the crowds of students on your way. Pathways were held up by casually conversing people, all relaxed now their days were over. They all annoyed you severely as they slowed down your journey, obviously uncaring that you still had places to be. By the time you had reached the building in which your Russian class was held, the clock was already a few minutes passed the scheduled time. You almost burst in through the doors of the hall, ever so slightly out of breath from your fast paced journey across campus. As soon as you entered the room, you spied the redheaded professor sat at her desk, head buried into her laptop. She looked up to you as you walked across the floor, nervously adjusting the backpack straps on your shoulders. "Hi," you breathed out, trying your best to seem casual despite your racing lungs. "I'm sorry I'm a little late. My last lecture ran over a little."
A pair of perfectly white teeth smiled back in your direction, Professor Romanoff looking you over. "Y/N," she said, her gentle voice falling upon your ears. Something about it in that moment made you realize you had almost missed it over your break, but the rational part of your brain soon took over and told you you were being ridiculous. "Don't worry about being late, you're barely two minutes over." She smiled again as you closed the final distance between you, moving to stand by the edge of her desk. She stood as you did, displaying today a pair of grey slacks and a soft black jumper, all adorned with delicate gold jewelry. Her smiling face looked down at you, that forgotten odd feeling of warmth spreading through your gut. "It's good to see you again. How are you? How was your trip?"
You ignored the sensation in your stomach as you smiled back at her. "I'm good. The trip was fine. A little boring but fine." There were many worse words to describe your trip than ‘boring' but you decide to settle for that, not wanting to bother your professor with the complicated details of your family and more so, simply wanting to leave the entire week in the past and not think of it again.
“That’s good,” Professor Romanoff replied with that same easy smile. “I’m glad to hear you’re alright.” Her hands lifted from the pockets they hid in, reaching out to open a drawer of her desk. You wondered for a moment what she might be looking for before she pulled out a small stack of papers, extending them out towards you. “These are some extra notes from last week’s lectures.”
You smiled, slightly surprised. “Oh, thank you.” Most of your university work could be found online for both absence and revision purposes, but it never was quite the same as attending the classes themselves. Usually you hated using just the online notes to catch up, never grasping the material as well as you’d like, but this weekend you’d had to make do. That was, of course, until Professor Romanoff handed you the extra notes. “That’s very kind of you.”
“Well,” your professor replied. “I wouldn’t want my best student falling behind, would I?”
Her words worked to form that warm sensation across your cheeks, the given title heating up your insides with flustering pride. You were grateful the woman had started to busy herself at her desk with something else as you tried to brush off her compliments as smoothly as possible, attempting to hide the flush of your skin.
“You can grab a chair from the side. Bring it over.”
You nodded, almost snapping back to reality once more with Professor Romanoff’s words. You placed your backpack down beside her desk, quickly slotting the extra notes into the large pocket before moving to grab a spare chair from the edge of the room. When you returned, your professor had seemingly found what she was searching for, a large stack of papers now sat in the centre of the desk.
“Sit,” Romanoff beckons with a smile, gesturing her hand towards the front of her desk. You pull up your chair, positioning yourself across from her own seated position. “These are tests I need marked. They’re all multiple choice and there’s a marking scheme.” The redhead lifted a single piece of paper, handing it over your way. “So you’ll just have to see if the letters match up on both papers. That sound okay?”
You nodded once more, her instructions seeming simple enough. “Yeah, sounds fine.”
“Great.” With a smile, Professor Romanoff slid the pile of unmarked papers across the desk towards you. She explained that if you needed any help, just to ask, and that she’d just be busying herself on her laptop. You nodded again, reaching into your backpack quickly for a pen before you began to work away.
It was an easy job really, simply matching the circled letters on the quiz papers to that of the marking scheme. In truth, it was almost relaxing to have something to do that didn’t require much brain power. Professor Romanoff sat across from you, typing away on her laptop. Occasionally, you’d look up to take a glance at her, catching moments of concentration or boredom on her face, but your eyes would never linger long, too scared of getting caught looking her way. She’d turned on the radio to fill a bit of the silence, music humming softly from a black stereo on the edge of the desk. All in all, the endeavour was a blessing in disguise - much simpler and easier than the effort the equivalent assignment would have took.
“You getting on alright, milaya?”
The voice brought you from the almost trance you’d put yourself in as you marked the set of papers. Your head rose from them, more than half the stack already complete as you smiled back at your professor. “Yeah, all good.”
She nodded, smiling at you with her perpetually perfect red lips. Under her gaze, you felt your eyes drop back to the papers, for some reason feeling entirely too see every time she looked your way. She went to turn back towards her laptop, your hand reaching out to continue marking, but a lingering question had been vibrating in your head. You had been too afraid to ask before, to be the one to break the soft silence of the room, but now was your opportunity. “Are these law papers?”
Professor Romanoff looked back at you, her expression soft. “Yes,” she said, simply. “I also teach a beginners law class alongside my usual Russian.”
You felt your eyebrows raise, unexpecting of her answer but also rather impressed. Now it made sense why the papers you were marking were not at all taking about Russian vocabulary but instead legal terminology.
“I studied a law major at college,” the red haired woman continued. “It was going to be my career until I decided to teach instead.”
“Huh,” you hummed, interested by the new information you were discovering about your teacher. “Why’d you decide to switch?”
Romanoff shrugged a shoulder. “Honestly, I love teaching.” A small smirk then appeared on her lips as she leaned in closer across the table. “Besides, my wife is a lawyer and just between me and you, I’m not sure I’d like her as my boss. She can be a little scary sometimes.”
There was a playfulness to her tone that you easily pick up on, the entire interaction meant as a jest, but somehow it left you with a strange feeling in your chest. You listened to your professor’s words, but your mind seemed to stick on one. Wife. In that moment, you suddenly realised you hadn’t pictured her being married - not that you had pictured her at all, your mind chided in defence. Now you quickly realised that she was indeed with another person, and not just that, but with a woman. Suddenly you had to push your mother’s berating thoughts from your head.
“So what about you?”
“Sorry?” you replied, mind crashing back to the present moment. Professor Romanoff looked back at you with an almost playful looking smirk. It only added to that strange feeling inside your chest.
“What’s your major?” the redhead elaborated.
“Oh.” You sat up straighter, trying to adjust your jumper in an effort to conceal the fact you’d gotten lost in your thoughts once more. “I’m an English major.” Romanoff raised a brow, the smirk on her face widening to almost a smile. You sighed softly, throwing your head to the side. “You can make the joke if you want, everyone does.”
An English girl studying English. You’d heard almost every variation of the joke, mostly from drunk boys at frat parties that thought they were the pinnacle of humour. Shouldn’t you already be an expert at that? Wait, they don’t teach you English in England?
You were expecting some similar turn of phrase to escape your professors lips, following in the footsteps of everyone you’d had this conversation with before. But to your surprise, she simply shook her head, frowning ever so slightly. “I think I’ll refrain,” she said, frown turning into the same wide smirk. “I hate being unoriginal.”
A laugh bubbled up in your throat, pushing out through a smile and into the air. Your professor followed, chuckling with you. After a moment, she stilled, looking back at you curiously. “So, tell me,” she said, leaning in closer to the desk. “What does bring you all the way to America to study?”
Because I can’t stand being at home with my parents. “Experience, I guess,” you said with a shrug, hiding away the truth behind a smile. “And I got a full scholarship when I applied so…” Your words died down, not quite sure how to finish your explanation.
Thankfully, your professor seemed to pick up the conversation easily. “A very smart girl, hm?” Her lips met as she hummed and it seemed you could feel the vibrations running down your spine. Your eyes fell back to your lap, trying to hide the awkward smile her praise had brought. You were unsure of what exactly you should do, contemplating if her question was rhetoric or not, and praying the former due to your inability to think of a response. Blessedly, Professor Romanoff cut through your mind’s distress with another question. “You’re in fourth year, right?”
Your eyes picked back up, meeting hers. “Yeah.”
She smiled, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared back at you intently. “And what exactly lead a fourth year English student to my beginner’s Russian class?”
You were getting a little bit of deja vu of the conversation you’d had with Kate multiple times. This time, you settled on the short answer. “I thought it sounded interesting,” you said simply, smiling as you shrugged your shoulders.
Professor Romanoff seemed amused by your answer. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”
You felt yourself smiling back in response. So am I, your brain mused, but your consciousness refused to let anything move past your lips. Instead, Romanoff was picking up the conversation once again. “What’s your plans for after?”
Your eyebrows raised, suddenly surprised by her question. “Sorry?”
The redhead chuckled. “Once you graduate, sweetheart,” she said, voice sounding slightly amused. “What do you plan to do with the rest of your life?”
“Oh right,” you fumbled. You felt a little stupid for thinking she ever meant anything other than that. “My, uh…my mum wants me to go to law school actually…”
A red brow raised in your direction. “Oh yeah?”
You nodded, reminiscent of your previous chatter with your professor. A funny little coincidence that you two may be following a similar path. Although in that moment, you couldn’t help but be a little jealous. She had eventually fallen away from law, moving to a career she was truly passionate for. You were unsure if you’d ever get that opportunity. It had taken months just to convince your mother to let you major in English, claiming it was good for getting into law school after college. And after three years, you still hadn’t been able to convince her away from that same dream of hers, now unsure if you ever would.
“And what to do you want to do?”
“What?” Your professor’s words took you by surprise. When you looked up, it felt as if her eyes had seen straight through you, like she’d been able to hear your every thought.
“Your mother wants you to go to law school,” Professor Romanoff reiterated. “What do you want to do after you graduate?”
Your voice was unsteady in your response. “Go to law school?”
Professor Romanoff raised a brow as she angled her head. “Are you asking me?” All you could muster was a shrug, feeling suddenly very small in the large hall. You didn’t much like talking about what you wanted to do in your life, haven forgone the gesture years ago due to your mother’s constant coercion. But then your professor leaned in slightly, a small smile crossing her lips. “You can tell me the truth, sweetheart,” she said. “I’m very good at keeping secrets.”
The endearment fell on your already blushed cheeks. Most times you wouldn’t have said anything at all, hidden behind the lies your mother had constructed about your person, but something about the redhead’s smile almost drew the words directly from your mouth. “I guess if I could do anything, I’d be a writer,” you said, playing at the sleeves of your sweater.
“A writer?” Romanoff repeated, raising a pair of curious brows.
You felt yourself nodding as a small smile crept on to your lips. “Yeah. I love books and writing, and I guess it’s what I’ve wanted to do ever since I was a little girl.”
“Why don’t you do it then?”
Her words came as a shock, your system unsure of how exactly to respond. You shrank back under the redhead’s gaze, reminded of the words you’d been told so many times they were engraved into your mind. “It’ll be good for me to go to law school. My mum says I’ll get a better job.”
“Maybe…” Professor Romanoff hummed. Then her expression changed to something you couldn’t quite understand as she leaned in closer, her emerald eyes trained on your face. “But do you know what my birth mother used to say about me? She used to tell me I was useless little piece of shit that wouldn’t get anywhere in life.” Your eyebrows raised slightly in shock as you heard her words, especially on the fact she’d cursed so easily and how oddly good it sounded coming from her lips. Then her expression shifted again, an almost smugness taking over that drew your attention away from your own thoughts. “Thirty years later I’m a professor at one of the most prestigious universities in America. I’m married to a very successful lawyer, and living quite frankly an amazing life with a pair of adoptive parents who love me very much.”
Professor Romanoff finished with a small smirk, seemingly unaware of how her words settled on your shoulders. The entire statement was so weighted, so much shared about her as a person in so few words. Something in you felt slightly honoured that she could be that vulnerable around you, or perhaps her story wasn’t one she kept bundled up in her chest like you did, like a weighted lock on your heart. Still, you felt a sense of solace in learning more about your professor, a sense of trust being built in up inside. Her smiling eyes met yours as she leaned in even further on the desk. “Don’t let people who don’t know the real you keep you from what you want. We only get one life, Y/N. Don’t waste it trying to be someone you’re not.”
Her words settled in your stomach with an odd sensation. Her reassurance felt like another brick added to that wall of trust, perhaps her intention to try and learn more of your story. But maybe that trust wasn’t quite strong enough yet.
You shied away, unwilling to share more of your story despite how open Romanoff had seemed, years of criticisms sitting heavy on your shoulders. “Maybe,” you said lowly, picking up your pen once again. But you knew you’d never truly be able to follow through with what she was proposing you should, knew your future fate was already sealed by the woman who’d brought you into this world. She’d have a perfect daughter with her perfect career and wouldn’t settle for less, no matter how it made you feel. For now, all Professor Romanoff’s words could provide was a little fuel to that already dying fire of a dream inside your heart.
The pair of you quickly fell back into the steady silence of your work after your conversation, you pen dotting over papers as your professor turned back to her laptop. The radio played quietly in the background as you tried to push whatever words lingered in your head, both from your mother and the redhead in front of you, too many feeling provoked from the subject to allow you to focus properly. Dispelling them from your mind, you trained your eyes on the marking schemes in front of you, though having some of the answers memorised by now, and continued to work away at the stack of tests on the desk.
Time passed quickly once more, your speed increasing as the papers became more familiar in your hands, easily noticing the same mistakes made over and over. Occasionally you heard Romanoff begin to hum along to a song on the radio, focusing momentarily on her soft voice before refocusing on your work. In your mind, you became determined to finish them as quickly as you could, absentmindedly hoping to impress the woman they were for.
You were almost finished your task, down to the very last paper when a shrill sound cut through the soft atmosphere of the room. Both you and your professor’s heads shot up from your work, eyes turning to your backpack from where the loud ringtone emanated. Shit, you thought, obviously accidentally turning on the ringer that you always kept silenced.
“I’m sorry,” you said, glancing over at your professor in slight fear of her reprimand. But in return, you were only met with a soft smile.
“Don’t worry, milaya,” Romanoff replied gently. “This isn’t class time. You can answer your phone.”
Relieved by her answer, you let out a soft sigh. Reaching over, you began to dig through your bag to find your mobile, the nonsensical tune still ringing out. With no suprise, when you found it, Kate’s name and profile picture covered your screen. Quietly, you apologised again before accepting the call, slightly turning away in your chair as you held your phone to your ear.
“Hello?”
“Y/N!” Kate’s voice replied back from the other end of the device. She sounded slightly off but you couldn’t quite tell why.
“Are you okay? What’s up?”
A small sigh sounded in your ear. “Okay, please don’t get mad at me again but-“
You were replying with a sigh of your own before Kate could even finish her sentence. “You forgot your key again, didn’t you?”
“I’m so sorry,” the girl on the end of the other phone pleaded.
You sighed again, shaking your head. “Kate, how many times-“
“I know! I know,” she cut off. “I’m the worst person ever. But I slept in this morning and just forgot to put it in my bag. I’m sorry.”
Your sigh turned less frustrated. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” At your core you weren’t a confrontational person. You could never stay mad at anyone for long, especially Kate.
“Well, I came back to the room and you’re not here,” your best friend continued through the phone. “I thought you were finished english at three?”
“I am,” you replied. “But I’m helping out Professor Romanoff, remember? I’m in her class right now.”
You could hear Kate’s realisation through the call. “Shit. I am so sorry.” There was a pause. You could picture Kate dancing on the heels of her feet, the same way she did every time she needed to ask you a favour. “Uhm, could I possibly swing by and pick up your key then? Please Y/N, I really need to finish my computing assignment. It’s due at five.”
If there was anyone who would leave their work until one hour before the deadline, it was Kate. Another soft sigh escaped your lips. “Fine.”
Kate’s smile could practically be heard through the phone. “Thank you! What room are you in?”
“Language building, room ML4.”
“Okay,” Kate replied. “I’ll be right there. You’re the best, I love you.”
You couldn’t help but smile a little as you responded. “Love you too.”
With that, Kate hung up the call. You pulled your phone away from your ear, switching it off and throwing it in your pocket as you turned back in your chair. “I’m so sorry,” you began, facing back to your professor. “It’s my roommate, Kate. She’s locked herself out again.”
Romanoff raised a curious glance. “Again?”
“Bad habit.” You smiled back sheepishly, shrugging your shoulder. “She’s just going to stop by and pick up my key, if that’s alright?”
The redhead smiled back at you. “Of course. That’s perfectly fine.” A small sigh of relief escaped your lips, glad that the encounter wouldn’t be a problem. “But I think we’re actually almost done here,” Romanoff continued. “How are you getting on with those papers.”
“Oh, yeah,” you replied, pulling yourself back towards the desk and the stack of papers sat atop of it. “I’m actually just on the last one.”
“Well if you just finish that up, you can run along with your friend when she gets here.”
“You’re sure?” you replied, looking up. You didn’t want Kate’s endeavour to disrupt any of the help your professor needed. But the redhead simply nodded in response.
“I’m sure, Y/N.”
“Okay then,” you responded, nodding your head softly. A small smile was passed between the two of you before you were grabbing your pen once more, reaching out to finish marking the final test in the stack. Your hand moved quickly as you corrected any of the mistakes, flicking through the sheets of paper at an impressive rate. It was just as you were marking the last question that the noise of the hall doors opening drew your attention.
Clamouring in, Kate appeared inside the hall, her backpack momentarily getting caught on the handle before she was able to free herself. She stood sheepishly inside the room, looking across the way and spying you and your professor sat at the desk. “Uhm, hello,” the girl announced. You could tell she was trying to play it cool but she had that same almost awkward look she got whenever a girl she liked try to talk to her. “I’m, uh, Kate Bishop. Y/N’s roommate.” Her finger pointed to you, as if trying to prove she hadn’t barged in for no apparent reason.
Professor Romanoff had stood from her desk as Kate had entered, her hands finding a place resting inside her pockets. Now, she smiled across at her. “Yeah, she mentioned.”
Kate gave that awkward little laugh of hers and you had to refrain from not giggling at her yourself. “Sorry to just barge in on you guys. Are you still…” Her hands gestured towards you and the desk, trying to gage where you were with the work.
But Romanoff simply shook her head in response with a short smile. “No worries, Miss Bishop. We were just finishing up.”
Kate’s eyebrows raised. “Great,” she replied, sticking one of her thumbs up.
You had to stifle your laughs at her awkwardness. Was this how she interacted with all of her professors, or just the ones she didn’t know? As you hid your smile, you tidied up the stack of papers on the desk, piling them up neatly before rising to your feet. “Okay, Miss Romanoff,” you said, slightly pushing them in her direction. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do for you?”
The woman turned back to you with her gentle smile, her voice soft. “That’ll be all for today, Y/N.”
“Okay,” you replied, adjusting your jumper as you reached down for your backpack, throwing it over one shoulder. “Well, thank you again for this.”
Romanoff smiled. “No, thank you. I’d be drowning in work without your helpful hands.” A smirk seemed to form on her lips as she sent an emerald wink your way.
The action left you suddenly stuttering for the right words, embarrassingly affected by such a simple action. “Right,” you finally managed, voice jumbled. “I’ll uh- see you on Wednesday?”
Thankfully Professor Romanoff didn’t seem too bothered by your flustering state, if anything you might have said she even looked amused. “I’ll see you in class, Y/N,” she said, smiling down at you.
You returned the gesture as you turned away, walking to close the distance between where you and Kate stood. As you met the raven-haired girl’s side, a voice called out to the both of you. “Have a nice night, ladies.”
You turned briefly to Romanoff, smiling as you and Kate hummed a thanks in unison. As you passed through the doors to the hall and exited into the corridor, you felt your shoulders loosen ever so slightly, that perfect emerald stare still lingering in your mind. You couldn’t quite understand why you left that class always feeling so worked up.
This time, however, there was little space for you to think about it, as merely a few steps down the hallway, Kate was grabbing hold of your upper arm. “Holy shit, that’s your Russian professor?”
You turned quickly to your best friend, both startled and shocked by her sudden comment. “What? Yeah?”
Kate breathed out a laugh. “Y/N, you never told me she was hot as shit.”
“What?” you stuttered, taken about by Kate’s choice of words. “She’s not- I mean -I-I never noticed.”
The girls hand shook your arm slightly as the pair of you continued to walk. “Never noticed? Y/N, you must be blind because that was one of the most attractive women I’ve ever seen.”
The words come as a bit of shock, not expecting Kate to think so highly of the woman you’d been spending the last weeks of lessons with. The raven-haired girl began to mumble on about how she should have taken Russian and how it was unfair how she always got the old, ugly professors. But in all honeslty you weren’t paying her much mind, instead focusing on the words that had spilled from Kate’s mouth previously. Sure, Professor Romanoff was a nice-looking woman, you’d noticed that the first time she’d walked into the room, but that didn’t mean you should be attracted to her. That was wrong, she was your teacher, she was married for god’s sake. You shouldn’t be thinking about her in that way. You weren’t thinking about her in that way. Sure, she made you blush every time she spoke to you, and her stare made a strange warmth pool in your stomach, but that didn’t mean you found her attractive. Right?
———
Term continued on with its usual snowballing effect. The next couple of weeks began to fill up with more and more work as you progressed further into the year. You and Kate spent many of your time outside of lessons bundled up in the library, spending hours revising for your upcoming midterms. The pair of you were also beginning to write your final dissertations, the main project that would lead to your graduation at the end of the year. You'd had your topic picked for months and had already started your research over the Summer, which left you room to help Kate find something she could write about, having struggled finding a topic she didn't find extremely boring.
Your usual meal time chatter turned away from mindless gossip and instead to lesson content, both of you complaining about how many assignments you had due. The carefree start of term was officially gone and the usual endless list of deadlines had crept back up on you just like it always did. Luckily for you, you'd managed to maintain the rigidness towards studying you'd possessed since doing your exams in secondary school. You could maintain focus for hours, staring at your laptop or notes until everything was photocopied into your mind. Sure, it sometimes meant you'd miss a meal or a few hours of sleep, but it was all worth it for the perfect grade you were determined to achieve in the end.
Your sessions with Professor Romanoff continued on over the next couple of weeks too, still just an hour after your final class on a Monday. You'd offered her more help if she'd needed it but the redhead had politely refused, claiming she didn't want you wasting your time when you had exams to study for. In fact, she told you that she'd only require your help for a few more weeks, just up until the midterm, then you were free to go with that easy 'A' tucked into your pocket. Surprisingly, when you heard the news, you found yourself feeling slightly saddened. Over the time you'd spent with Professor Romanoff, you'd rather enjoyed yourself. It wasn't that the work was particularly exhilarating or you two ever did much other than look at papers, but the small moments you'd been able to find in between had been rather pleasant. Whether it was the soft lull of the radio music that you both would hum along to, or the small conversations she'd have with you about your home or your studies, the time you spent with the redhead somehow always left you with a warmth in the pit of your stomach.
One particular rainy Monday afternoon, the pair of you were comfortably sat at her desk in your usual positions, your chair across the way from hers. As she often did, Romanoff typed away on her laptop, while you sat stapling together test papers for her advanced Russian class, having previously just photocopied the stack. The paper was still warm against your skin as you organised them into the correct order, the feeling almost soothing you into a trance-like state. You hadn't even noticed it at all until it was suddenly shattered by a soft sound echoing through the room.
Your head picked up, readjusting itself to the real world before turning to the right where the sound emanated from. The sight that befell upon you caused your brows to raise ever so slightly in surprise. As the door to the lecture hall swung closed, a tall, unfamiliar, but smartly-dressed woman entered through them. Her heels clicked confidently across the floor, eyes trained on your professor who sat at the desk. You watched as the redhead stood when the woman reached her, smiling softly. "Detka, hi." Romanoff placed a small kiss on the woman's cheek as they hugged briefly.
"I tried to call but it went straight to voicemail," the other woman replied. She stood a few inches taller than Professor Romanoff, her hair a lighter shade of red straightened almost perfectly down her back. She wore a deep copper suit with a crisp white shirt, a designer handbag thrown over one shoulder. In all honesty, you couldn't tell if she'd came straight from work or a catwalk. When her body turned to stand side by side with your professor, you noticed her eyes shimmered down at you with a soft olive green. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise you would still have company."
At that, you noticed Professor Romanoff turn towards you, as if she had just remembered you were there. She smiled as she gestured to the taller woman. "Y/N, this is my wife, Wanda."
Right, wife. The idea she'd slipped a few weeks ago had almost left your mind entirely. Now that said woman was standing directly in front of you, looking down with an expression you couldn't quite read. "So you're the star pupil my wife has been telling me about, hm?"
Her voice was playful when she spoke, but at the same time low and almost sultry. Everything about it, including her words, left you stuttering over what to say. Had Professor Romanoff really been speaking about you to her wife?
"This is she," the redhead replied, covering for your inability to form a full sentence. She looked back at you with that same easy-going smile that seemed to make you shift in your seat.
Wanda passed you a similar expression as she inclined her head towards you, smirking just slightly. "Well then, it's a pleasure to meet you."
Thankfully, in that moment, your ability to speak seemed to return. "It's nice to meet you too, miss."
A small chuckle escaped the older woman's lips as you spoke. She glanced at Natasha, the pair sharing a look you couldn't interpret, before her sparkling eyes were back on you. "Oh please, honey. You can just call me Wanda." Just then you realised it wasn't only your professor's use of nicknames that seemed to send a shiver down your spine, Wanda's words setting your nerves on edge as you felt the heat flush to your cheeks. You looked down to your lap in an attempt to hide it, not wanting either woman to see your embarrassed state. From the corner of your eye, however, you saw Wanda wasn't going to let you hide that easily. She sat herself on the edge of the desk, leaning in closer to you and the stack of papers close by. "Working hard, are we?"
You looked back up to meet her eye, the action seemingly stripping away your speech once more. Thankfully, your professor stood up to answer for you. "Just getting some papers organised for my lesson tomorrow," she said, sitting herself down at her chair once more. Her eyes met her wife's. "Sorry, I didn't realise we'd run so late." Just then, you assumed why Wanda had shown up so unnanounced. Professor Romanoff had mentioned in passing that her wife would sometimes meet her after work, meaning that your sessions couldn't run any later even if she did need the extra help you offered.
"No, need to apologise," Wanda replied with an easy smile. "I don't mind sticking around while you guys finish up. Especially when your little assistant is so cute." Her eyes turned to you, a smirk playing on her lips. The entire action seemed to freeze you in place, entirely unsure of what to say or do.
"Cat gets her tongue sometimes."
Your eyes flicked to your professor as she spoke, a very similar smirk appearing on her face to match her wife sitting next to her. The taller redhead hummed lowly at her comment, her gaze tracing over you. Sat in that chair, you felt entirely too seen. Your eyes darted around, unsure of where exactly to look while the pair of older women watched you. If there was something you were supposed to say, you mind could not conjure it. In that moment all you could do was sit awkwardly as two pairs of green eyes traced your every movement.
But then, a familiar tune rang out to your rescue. When before you'd cursed your forgetfulness to turn off your ringer, now you silently thanked yourself. Your eyes rushed to your backpack, then quickly back to your professor and her wife. "I'm sorry," you stuttered out. "Could I?"
"Go on, milaya."
You tried your best to ignore your professor's comment as you reached into your backpack for your phone, quickly holding it up to your ear. To no surprise, it was a familiar voice singing a familiar tune. Still, you found the situation grateful for its diversion from the stalemate conversation you'd been stuck in beforehand. As you hung up the call a minute later, you turned back to the desk with a sheepish smile. "It's Kate, she's locked herself out again."
Professor Romanoff raised a perfect brow. "That really is a bad habit of hers, hm?"
You fought back a small chuckle at her words, surprised she even remembered you'd said that. "Yeah," you smiled back, then dropped it into a small frown. "I am so sorry-"
Before you could even finish your sentence, the redhead was holding up her hand to stop you. "Don't worry about it, milaya. You can run along. I'll catch you in class on Wednesday."
Your eyebrows raised, not wanting to be an inconvenience to her yet again. "You're sure? I can easily-"
"I said it's fine, Y/N," Romanoff reiterated, her voice coming out more stern. It wasn't quite angry, just firm, but it was enough to shut your mouth right up. You looked back, eyes wide, afraid that you'd annoyed her by leaving early twice due to your roommates negligence. But at your response, the redhead simply smiled down softly at you angling her head towards the door. "Go on. I can handle the rest."
You found your head nodding almost on its own accord, directed by not only your professor's watchful eye but now that of her wife's too. Your words came out little and few, a mumbled thank you and another apology spilling from your lips as you packed up your bag and threw it over your shoulders. One last reassurance and smile sent you walking out the door, headed back to your dorm where Kate would be waiting for you. As you went, you were hyper aware of the two sets of eyes trained on your back, picturing the two redheaded woman still sitting at the desk watching you walk away. What you weren't exactly aware of was how their gaze dropped even lower, both staring at the short black skirt you'd decided to wear that day, watching how the material grazed lightly against the back of your tight-covered thighs. When you exited out the door, you couldn't see the way the taller redhead turned back to her wife, looking down at her from where she still sat on the desk, a wide smirk appearing on her face as she bit into a perfectly painted lip. You couldn't see the way the pair looked at each other, leaning closer in, nor hear the words Wanda uttered back to her wife before their lips met in a kiss.
"You're right, she is cute. Let's keep her."
#inescapable love au#professor natasha romanoff#lawyer wanda maximoff#natasha romanoff x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#wandanat x reader#wanda x reader#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff#wanda maximoff#platonic kate bishop x reader
854 notes
·
View notes
Text
—𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚, 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩—
pairing . Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader
summary . you both knew you would never be able to be together — so you had to take the shot, even if it would be the only and one time.
warnings . smut! I am not responsible for your content consumption! bottom! Natasha, soft sex, praise kink (?), cunninglingus, face riding, fingering, multiple orgasms, forbidden love, Red Room trope in general, non graphic violence, implied sexual harassment (Dreykov), cursing, angst.
notes . english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so I apologize for any spelling errors. feel free to leave any advice though!
disclaimer: they're both 18, before the graduation ceremony.
highschool sweethearts thing because I'm a simp for it. ^^
divider credits: @benkeibear
"Love is for children." they'd say, "love is a weakness." so how the hell did you manage? Natasha wondered, how did you kept the facade, even with all the things that happened between you, in secrecy from the rest of the widows — from Madam B, and from General Dreykov?
Because even her, one of their best widows, was starting to lose it.
Ever since the beggining, you were the most ruthless, emotionless, cruel widow they had. You couldn't remember your life before the Red Room, because it never existed. They took you from your parents when you were 2, and your training started by the age of 4.
You could swear you were born like that — cursed, without a heart. You never cared for anyone, for anything. Your only task was rob, torture, kill. Because the apple doensn't fall far away from the tree.
But somehow, that girl still managed to change you.
When Madam B put the redhead as your opponent, was when your whole perspective of life, of being, changed. God, you hated her. She had everything you ever wished to have — the longing for a family, the care for people, the gentleness. That showed whenever you went on a mission together — it wasn't a part of her characters, it was herself. When she spoke to you about Yelena and how she tried to protect her, when she took you to the dark warehouse to take care of your bruises.. especially when she insisted on covering your ears and mumbling a russian lullaby to muffle the sounds of the other girls screams in the night.
She taught you what love was. And that made you want to kill her. To kiss her. To tear her apart. To make her scream, and not from pain.
Dreykov always made it clear that romance, or even the slightest display of affection would result in severe punishment, or worse, execution. That was because he knew that the widows would never be able to find a partner outside his walls, so finding that need between each other was the only way out.
Yet, Natasha and you had an advantage point — you were the best of the best, the most talented widows. So first: he wouldn't suspect anything, and second: he couldn't kill his best agents. It would be his loss.
That's how she became your little secret. You were an hell of an expert, because you never let your feelings get in your job. Neither did Natasha, but it still shocked her.
It started with a simple peck on the lips by the age of 13, in the farris wheel of the amusement park you were undercover. Your cart was the one on the top, where you could see all the atractions from, and no one could see you. You tried to convince yourself it was just teenage curiosity, but it still led to that.
The hotel room of Belgium, Brussels.
You never knew the simple mission on breaking in a bank was gonna lead to that.
Natasha did everything in a rush, knowing that you could do it smoothly, but just to be able to spend a little more time with you. Like now.
You sighed deeply, leaning against the sink's counter and looking at your reflexion in the mirror. The cut on your forehead was stinging a little, but you decided not to pay attention. The redhead walked in the bathroom, just not expecting to see you only in a black lace bra and the black tights of the vest. You heard the click of the door, but showed little emotion. "Hey, Red."
"Oh, Y/n..." she whispered, her eyes searching for yours, wanting to know if you wanted her to leave. You gave her a shake of your head and a small smile. She walked through the door with a soft exhale. "I already settled the guns and all the weapons. I also wrote the reports, in case you're wondering."
"You spoil me too much," you smirked tiredly. "You do all of that just to have me a little more, don't you?"
Your joke made her look down a little. "Yes," she whispers.
"You do?" you raised an eyebrow, not expecting her to affirm. "Well.. we still have 5 hours before they retreat us, so.."
"Your forehead," Natasha cuts you off, frowning in concern, rushing to check on you. Her hands went to hold your shoulders as she studied the cut — she only realized your lips parted and your gaze at her when she felt the straps of the bra beneath her hands.
"It's fine," you whispered, clearing your throat. Natasha looked away for a brief second, before looking into your eyes again.
"It's not, let me patch you up—"
You shook your head, placing your hands on her waist and leaning in, shutting her up with a long, gentle kiss. You pulled away and met Natasha's dreamy gaze, her eyes a little disoriented.
"Y/n..." the redhead mumbled, her eyes fluttering close and her head dropping to your shoulder, as she sighed.
"God, the way you look out for me makes me so weak." you chuckled, your palm rubbing her back, fingernails grazing her skin. "You know you don't have to do that. I can take care of myself just fine."
"I don't care," she said, lifting her head again to get herself lost in your eyes once more.
The graduation ceremony was coming soon, and you couldn't care less about that — but with her, it was different. You both knew what the ceremony actually meant, and Natasha was scared. She didn't want her dignity off her. And not knowing how to deal with this, she just wanted to protect you, in a way to comfort herself, her heart.
"It's gonna be okay, Natalia," you smile, planting a little kiss on the tip of her nose. "It's not gonna be the first surgery they perform on us. Besides, I'm gonna be with you as soon as you're back on the dormitory, okay?"
"It's just," Natasha gulped, her arms wrapping around herself. She was thinking far, of the future. "Who's gonna want a woman who can't even do the basics? Who's gonna want a woman who can't give birth to a baby?"
"Me." you simply said, placing your hand on her cheek, Nat immediately leaning into the touch. "I will. Because when we're out, we're getting married." you giggled. "Wasn't that our promise 4 years ago, when we were 14?"
Natasha's eyes snapped back to you. It was clear she didn't want to think of that as a joke — she had to show you how much she felt for you. And she wanted- needed you to reciprocate her. So she completely forgot of all the damn rules. She grabbed the back of your neck, and unintentionally pushed you up against the wall, kissing you with urgency.
Your eyes widened in surprise, but fluttered close again as the shock vanished. Your hands went to hold her waist again, tightening as you felt her press herself against you.
"Nat..." you whispered against her lips, breaking the kiss. She looked at you, her lips grazing yours again, your noses brushing.
"It's our only chance," she whines. "We were pleasure toys for men since we were little, can't we have something real for once? Before everything falls apart?"
Your breathing hitches as she says that. You let your eyes close, guiding her backwards and outside the bathroom, towards the bed.
"It's forbidden, but who the fuck cares? Who knows if we're not getting killed someday, or if Dreykov send us to different bases and we never see each other again?"
"Natalia," you shake your head, shakily breathing. "Everything I've done, everything I did was for one reason — having you by my side."
Natasha whimpered, sitting you down on the bed and standing between your legs. "Y/n, I want to see you."
"Then do it." you replied with no hesitance. "you're the only one who I'd consent to, Natalia."
At this point, you swore you forgot everything else than how she slowly unattached the hostler from your hips, pulling the tights and panties down and breathing rapidly by the sight of you semi-naked in front of her. Before she could do anything else, you stood up, hand moving to zip down the tight suit they made you wear. Natasha whined, leaning herself into your hands.
"So impatient," you whispered, finishing with the zipper and removing the fabric of her body, taking your time to do so. She held your shoulders and let you slip it down her legs — along with her panties, which she wasn't expecting. Natasha gasped quietly as the air hit her core, making you smile softly and stand up again.
"Darling," you cooed, hands moving to her back as your face found shelter on her neck, gently nibbling and kissing there. "you're so pretty it hurts,"
"Y/n," the redhead almost moaned, tilting her head back to grant you more access. She felt the straps of her bra slide down her shoulders and bit her lip as her breasts were freed, the lack of the tight clothing giving both of you an immense relief. In a moment, your lace lingerie was gone too.
"You're so gorgeous..." you whispered in her ear, your fingers tracing all the scars on her body, which you were sure you already had memorized. "And you are mine."
"Yes," she nodded, wrapping her arms around your waist. The skin on skin contact from someone she actually trusted felt too good, too much. "Yes, yes I'm yours."
Natasha then gently sat you down again on the edge of the bed, taking your breath away as she kneeled down in front of you, her hands gently pushing your knees apart and holding them open like this.
"God," she whimpered, leaning her face to slowly press kisses on your inner thighs, your back arching a little with the contact.
You took a moment to look at her dreamily, your slender fingers going to tangle in her red hair and play with it softly. "Lyubovmoya, (my love,)"
Natasha swore she could cry now, from the intense emotions building up within her. She couldn't wait anymore. So she did just that — diving into you, her mouth finding your pussy, her tongue inside you, tasting you, savouring the sweetness reserved only for her.
"Fuck, malyshka, (baby,)" you moaned, the sensation of being filled by someone who wouldn't harm you almost sending you over the edge already. "Yes, just like that,"
Natasha whimpered softly, licking the juices that were already spilling out of you, her tongue moving in circular motions against your clit.
"Nat," your head tilted back, hips bucking against her face as your climax approached. "I'm coming, Nat, I—"
She moaned against your folds as you came, licking all of your arousal, her tongue fucking you through your orgasm. After a while, she pulled her head back and looked up at your face.
"You're so fucking beautiful between my legs like that." you murmured breathlessly, smiling in bliss. Natasha blushed, you could tell she really liked your praises. "Are you really ready for more?"
"This is such a bad idea," she lifted herself from between your legs and smiled weakly, straddling your thigh again and gently pushing your back against the bed. "But the best we'd ever have."
You giggled, crawling further back the bed and laying your head on the pillow, your hands pulling her on top of you. Natasha thought of everything but that.
"Y/n," she bit her lip, getting a little shy. "I don't wanna hurt you."
"Don't be a hypocrite." you smirked softly. It wasn't going to be the first time she had suffocated you with her thighs, one of her combat skills. "Let me taste you too."
Natasha carefully placed her hands on the headboard, lifting herself up and lowering her thighs around your head, so hesitant. You gently squeezed her flesh and pulled her flush against your face, making her gasp a little in surprise. In a second, she felt your tongue inside her. So that's how it felt.
"Oh my," she whimpered, closing her eyes tightly, as she slowly started to grind herself against you.
You moved your hands up her thighs, to her hip bone, running your fingers across the bullet scar she had there. There was no doubt that, of all the Red Room academy, Natasha was the one who most took the harshness from Dreykov — sometimes for punishment, for the so called reward for being a good widow, or even to protect you. So she deserved all the sweetness and care she could get, for once in her life.
"More.." she breathed, her eyes looking down at yours — not expecting you to be so skilled, looking closely at her as your mouth worked on her. Your eyes smiled at her, and she felt it.
"Such a good girl," you whisper, sending vibrations all over her body. You then inserted two fingers inside her, carefully laying her down on the bed and hovering your lips against hers. Not kissing her, yet. "As soon as we get out of here, I'll marry you. And I'll scream to the world that you're mine."
"Y/n," she cried, feeling a warm tear roll down her cheek — not knowing if it was the pleasure only, but also her emotions.
"I feel so lucky," you smiled, so softly, lips brushing against her cheek as you spoke. She giggled, her arms circling your neck. Natasha moaned as she felt your fingers brushing continuously against her g-spot, as if you knew her better than herself, and you did. "I would give the world to have you in my arms, and I have it, and I'll never let you go."
"Say that again." the redhead begged, bucking her hips against your hand.
"I'll never, ever let you go." you repeated, feeling her legs starting to shake. "Even if I have to die for that."
"If I die..." she whispered, and suddenly, a wave of arousal washed over her, and she threw her head back, her cum all over your fingers. You gently fucked her through her orgasm, and then licked your fingers.
Nat gripped your back, her fingers digging into your skin. You rolled over the bed and pulled her on top of you. She looked like a baby now, so innocent, so precious. She clinged to you, wanting more of your safety, of your love.
Yes, love. And it didn't matter if she was considered a child now.
"I-if I die," she continued, her voice so so small. Your fingers ran through her hair, through her red locks. "At least I had one good thing in my life. You. You're the only fucking good thing I ever had, Y/n. And I'll take you in my memories forever and ever."
"I love you, Natalia." you said with conviction. "I'll love you in my every reincarnation, in my every life."
That's when you heard a loud bang in the door. The tracker, the wire.
"Goodbye, princess." you held her tighter, as she buried her face on your neck.
"See you soon."
Everything went black. Two widows terminated. Two shots fired.
Dreykov would have to train two other girls to replace you, and it wouldn't be easy.
At least you were free now. And had to hope you'd be married with two kids and a picket fence for the next time.
#natasha marvel#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha x reader#marvel incorrect quotes#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanov#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff soft smut#natasha x y/n#natasha x you#marvel#incorrect marvel quotes#lgbtqia#the avengers#Spotify
654 notes
·
View notes
Note
it's always girl dad König or girl dad Simon
but girl dad Makarov whose little princess gets away with everything
Cw: mention of assassination, protective behaviour, father!Makarov, tell me if I missed any.
nnote: every dialogue in italic is spoken in Russian.
“- could provide you with-”
“Papa, ” you poked your head through his office room’s door after giving it three light knocks.
You knew your dad was in his office, a worker of the house had told you where he was after you asked her, the old lady’s face wrinkling up with her gentle, saying that she saw a Bolivian man escorted to his office, but didn’t know if he left or not. Wanting to try your luck, you crossed the mansion to get to his office, built on the left side of the house, while your bedrooms and study rooms were on the other end of the mansion. He liked to separate his work life and his life with you, for better protection and keep your from knowing the dangers of life —or so he says.
A man sat across him, the bald head of the Bolivian man Old Baba mentioned, wearing a suit sewed in fine looking silk, of rich and luxury that even your father never wore around so carelessly. It would catch people’s attention, right or wrong, he didn’t need any of that, he would rather wear the same black and white attire, clean and normal enough to be unnoticeable by the mass. The dichotomy between the fat man and your father was laughable, a scene you’d only see in your comedy novels or a movie. Your abrupt entrance had cut the man’s proposition in half, turning both their attention towards the door where you blinked owlishly, partly in guilt for barging into his meeting and in shock at the bald man’s heavy perspiration.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you were still talking,” you bowed your head, ready to excuse yourself for barging in, “I’ll come back later, papa.”
“It’s fine,” Makarov waved his hand, nodding his head to let you know he wasn’t mad, your father would never be mad at you, you listened so well and never fought him on anything. You were a gem in his eyes, something precious and untouchable to all but him, “I’ll have someone call you when I’m done.”
When you closed the door, Makarov’s attention turned back to his potential - well, past potential - ally, his eyes darkening after he caught the man whispering something horrid about your interruption. His business was yours as much as it was his, you might’ve been kept in the dark at most time, but you knew enough to know he was a dangerous man. He kept you sheltered, but not naive.
And after half-heartedly listening to what the man had to provide, Makarov dismissed him, giving him a cold apology about those needs being fulfilled by a prior contractor, someone who already provided him with the material he proposed. He didn’t need a rich pig that stupidly flaunted is money, it would attract to many eyes and he didn’t need that if he wanted to reach his goal and build a better world for you.
He flicked his wrist, opening his phone and mindlessly dialling a number, pressing the screen to his ear as he watched the man amble down the stairs, struggling to make his way to the car he had a chauffeur waiting for him. The person on the other side picked his call within seconds, a cool and monotone voice ready to receive his order from Makarov, the unbothered tone at his fury, a personal and petty thing that clawed at his mind.
“Make it known that I will have no one disrespect my daughter.”
“Yes, sir.”
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami
#x reader#cod mw2 x reader#cod mw2#mw3 makarov#cod makarov#call of duty makarov#vladimir makarov#makarov#dad!makarov#Father!makarov#vladimir makarov x reader#makarov x reader
716 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Spilled Drink
Summary: After a mission gone wrong Y/n believes Loki hates her. Does he really hate her? Or does he simply hate to love her?
Warnings: Smutty smut smut, barely a plot, 18+, minors DNI
Loki x fem!reader
A/N: I started writing this around Christmas time, hence the mistletoe reference lol
“You look like you could use this,” Nat says as she hands me a glass.
“What is it?”
“A drink, cectpa. I think you could use it.”
I nodded and downed the liquid, wincing as it burned my throat. She smirked at me and I rolled my eyes. “Straight Vodka?”
“I’m Russian,” she chuckles before signaling the bartender. “Another.”
The bartender placed another drink in front of us as Nat spoke. “So what exactly happened with you and Loki?”
I scoffed. “He’s an arrogant asshole.”
“Well, that much we knew but what happened.”
“He got hurt after a mission and he’s hated me ever since.”
“He hurts you because he got hurt?” she scoffed.
“I don’t know, Nat… it’s the only thing that makes sense. He must blame me for his injuries.”
Nat rolled her eyes. “He needs to get over himself. What happened on that mission was not your fault.”
A glass is placed on the counter next to us as the bartender nods. “I’ll have another one coming up in just a moment, Mr. Laufeyson.”
Loki nodded before turning his gaze to me. “Y/l/n,” he greeted.
“Laufeyson,” I replied.
Before I could say anything more I heard Wanda giggling next to Natasha and I turned to her. “What’ve you done now?”
She looked up and I dreaded what was to come for I had a slight inkling as to what she had done. I looked up and my eyes met a mistletoe hanging above our heads. The red berries were glowing as the green vines moved as if they’d just been placed above our heads.
“What is this, witch?” Loki hissed, glaring daggers at Wanda.
“You know, Loki,” Wanda replied, chuckling as she sipped her drink. “Kiss her!”
I rolled my eyes.
“Honestly, Maximoff, of all the jokes you could've pulled today… this little act of trickery is poor even for you.”
I could see his cheeks flushing a hint of pink as he maintained his cold demeanor.
“Oh, come on, Laufeyson! Get in the Christmas spirit! Just kiss her!” Nat exclaimed.
“I will not!”
I rolled my eyes. “I will not be forced to kiss him!”
I saw Wanda wiggle her fingers ever so slightly and Loki’s drink poured over my dress.
“Loki!” I hissed before turning to Wanda. “Wanda!”
She raised her hands innocently. “What? I did nothing!”
“Apologies, Agent Y/l/n!” Loki exclaimed. He conjured a cloth and began dabbing my shoulders. “It’s all over your dress… I’m truly very sorry, love.”
I furrowed my brows at the sudden change in his demeanor.
“Please, allow me to escort you back to your room so you can get out of that dress. I-I’m truly sorry about this, Y/n.”
“It’s fine, honestly.” I brushed him off. “You don’t need to-.”
“She’d love that!” Wanda interrupted, pushing me closer to Loki. I glared at her but she simply smiled in return.
“But before you go…” Once again she gestured to the mistletoe above our heads. I rolled my eyes, preparing to walk away, but Loki had other plans. He grabbed my face and pulled me flush against his chest, pressing his lips to mine. His kiss was rough and his hands were merciless as they moved down my body, grabbing every bit of exposed flesh they could.
“Holy hell, Laufeyson,” I whispered breathlessly as we pulled away from the kiss. He said nothing and simply held out his hand before leading me to my room… at least I thought that’s where he was leading me but once we turned left instead of right I realized that’s not what was happening.
“Where are you taking me?”
“We’re just taking a little detour,” he assured me as we reached his room. “You can leave anytime you want,” he promised as he shut the door behind us and pressed my body against it.
“What are you doing?” I hissed.
“I promised I would help you get out of this dress… I intend to make good on my word. As soon as I saw you soaking wet in this dress I couldn't resist.
I scoffed. “That’s how you solve all your problems, isn’t it? By fucking your way out of them.”
He chuckled darkly. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it… late at night when you’re alone with nothing but your hand.” His fingers slowly moved down my side, reaching under my dress. “You can’t tell me your fingers haven’t slipped beneath your skirts to soothe that delicious little ache between your legs, hm?” He pressed his thumb to my clothed clit. “Tell me you haven’t imagined my hands down there… my tongue… my cock.”
“Fuck, Loki.”
His cock twitched in his trousers. “That’s it, darling. Moan my name.”
He pulled my panties to the side, slipping his finger through my folds. I was struggling to control my moans as they threatened to slip from my lips.
“None of that,” he hissed, smacking my ass with his other hand. “Let me hear you.”
I moaned and he chuckled darkly at the sound. “Such lovely little noises you make, darling.” He circled my clit with his thumb and I could feel my orgasm approaching as I gripped his shoulders.
“That’s it, little one,” he murmured into my ear, pressing his lips along my neck. He slipped his fingers inside my entrance, still circling my clit. “Norns, you feel perfect… can’t imagine how good you’re going to feel around my cock.”
I moaned loudly, clenching around his fingers and he chuckled. “There’s my good girl.” I could feel him smirking against my skin before he nibbled the skin of my ear. “Let go, darling. I’ve got you.” His other hand snaked around my waist. “I won’t let you fall. Just let go for me.”
My orgasm ripped through me and I moaned loudly as he continued circling my clit, helping me ride out the high. As I slowly came down he kissed me hard, murmuring against my lips. “You’re perfect.” He lifted me off the ground, gently tossing me on the bed. With a wave of his hand our clothes were gone and he climbed over me, grasping his cock in his hand, before searching my eyes. “May I?”
“Please, Loki,” I moaned, reaching out for him.
“Are you on the pill?” he asked. “Or would you prefer I use a condom?”
I shook my head. “I’m on the pill.” I grabbed his cock, stroking it. “Please.”
He smiled and I removed my hand, sliding it up his chest as he slipped his cock into my entrance, bracing himself above me. HIs eyes closed in pleasure, groaning as he slipped inside me.
“Fuck, darling… better than I ever could’ve imagined.”
I gripped his hips, slowly pushing him against me, begging him to move. He pressed his lips to mine and slowly began setting a steady pace, circling his hips. I moaned into his mouth and I could feel him smiling more each time I moaned for him. “That’s my good girl,” he murmured against my lips. “I can feel you getting close. He moved his hand to my clit, rubbing it harshly. “Cum for me, baby.” His hips started moving faster. “Cum,” he growled. “Cum now.”
My back arched as I came, moaning his name loudly. With a final thrust of his hips, he came inside me, pressing his hips hard against mine as he groaned in pleasure. His thumb was still rubbing my clit as I slowly came down from my high. As I settled back into the bed, breathing heavily, he removed his hand, kissing along my jaw.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, slowly pulling out of me. He conjured a cloth and carefully wiped my thighs. When he finished the cloth disappeared and he settled next to me but I knew I couldn’t stay.
I was preparing to redress and leave his chambers when I felt his arm wrap around my waist as his lips pressed to my shoulders. “Where are you going, little love?”
“Back to my room,” I answered.
“Why?”
“Isn’t that what you want? Isn’t that what most women you bring back do after you’ve fucked them?”
He scoffed. “You are not like most women I bring back here to fuck, darling… you are superior by far… and you mean far more to me than some common whore.”
I sighed, finally turning to face him. “Then do you act as if you hate me? Ever since our last mission together you’ve avoided me like the plague.”
“I can assure you, my darling… I would not let a plague anywhere near my cock. It is far too valuable an asset to be struck down by a plague.”
I rolled my eyes. “Good talk, Loki,” I said before standing up.
“No, wait!” He abruptly stood and moved in front of me, blocking my path. “I’m sorry, darling. You’re right… I was avoiding you but not for the reasons you think… When I was injured on the last mission… you saw a side of me no one ever has… you saw me vulnerable and I swore to never let anyone see me that way but… but you saw… and you didn’t run away… you didn’t try to use it against me. You… you actually seemed to care… and that scared me more than anything.”
“The thought of me caring for you scared you more than anything?”
He nodded. “I’ve never had that apart from my mother and Thor… it’s not something I thought I could ever get used to.”
“You could… if you wanted to,” I murmured, unable to meet his eyes, but he was having none of that. He lifted my chin, his eyes locking with mine.
“You mean it?”
I nodded.
“So you would… be mine… if I asked?”
Another nod.
“Then… w-would you… be mine?”
I nodded once again and crashed my lips to his, sealing that promise.
**********************************************
#loki x reader#loki odinson#loki laufeyson#loki x y/n#lokixreader#loki friggason#loki of asgard#marvel#marvel mcu#avengers#loki smut#loki x female reader#loki x you#loki laufeyson x reader#loki x reader smut#marvel smut#smutty#smutty smut smut
775 notes
·
View notes
Text
i love you enough
for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'roadtrip/vacation'
rated m
wc: 995
cw: nightmare, implied sexual content
tags: friends to lovers, getting together, love confessions, first kiss, loosest way to reference vacation is staying in a hotel
------------------------------------
"Steve...Steve!"
His eyes opened wide as Eddie's hands shook him awake.
"Jesus Christ, man. I thought I'd have to push you off the bed," Eddie sighed, his hold on Steve's shoulders loosening but not going away.
"Sorry," Steve gasped, his breath caught in his chest like he was about to have a panic attack.
This nightmare had been different.
Instead of Robin dying under the mall, it was Eddie. Instead of Steve being able to convince the Russians that he should be taken, Eddie convinced them he knew all they needed to know.
It was the exact type of falling on the sword Eddie would do.
Steve's eyes landed on Eddie, who was watching him silently, looking like he was doing his best not to cry.
"Eds? You okay?" Steve's voice cracked.
"Shit, are you?" Eddie asked back, letting out a disbelieving laugh.
"Yeah, sorry I woke you up."
"You're kidding, right?"
Eddie looked mad. He sounded mad.
"No, I'm really sorry. I know you don't sleep so great, either, so," Steve shrugged. "I wouldn't blame you if you wanna go down the hall to the girls' room."
Eddie blinked at him, silence making the air feel thick with an awkwardness they hadn't had between them in months.
And then Eddie's hands were cupping his face, almost lovingly.
"Do you ever think about how other people care about you?" Eddie asked, barely more than a whisper. "Or how seeing you suffer and then apologize for it breaks our hearts?"
Steve's mouth was opening and closing like a fish, searching Eddie's eyes for the answer he wanted.
"You have no idea how much people love you, do you?" Eddie's forehead rested against Steve's.
"I-"
"Stevie. I need you to listen to me." Eddie breathed out slowly. "I can't imagine how much you've seen. I know you've told me, and I've seen some of it myself, but half of the shit you've done? Just to keep everyone safe? And you keep seeing it in nightmares all the time. It never goes away. You're so strong. You get up every day and go to work, and cart the kids around, and bring me to appointments, and cook dinner for me and Wayne, and help Robin with her girl problems, and then you go to bed and have to worry about what monsters will be waiting for you. And then you wake up the next day and pretend it didn't happen, but we all know it did. I know it did."
Steve sniffled.
"And here I am, shaking in the corner of my bed because I think I hear a noise outside my window one time." They both let out a laugh, but Eddie continued before Steve could interrupt. "I was scared. I tried waking you up when you first started making noises. You sounded like you were hurt. And then you said Dustin's name and I could feel you shaking. And then-"
"And then I said your name."
Eddie nodded.
Steve placed his hands at Eddie's neck, almost mirroring Eddie.
"You died. But it was the Russians. You convinced them you knew something to distract them from me and the kids, but you didn't so they just kept...they-" He let out a sob as tears fell down his cheeks. "They did to you what they were gonna do to me."
"Oh, sweetheart."
Eddie's lips were on his.
It shouldn't be happening like this, a part of Steve thought.
It should be romantic and sweet, maybe after a date where Steve used all the charm he's been saving just for Eddie, maybe when the reason for the wetness against their cheeks was because of rain instead of tears.
But in a way, it was always going to be like this: admitting too much at the wrong time, saving each other from pain.
Regardless of all the ways it should be and all the ways he wished for it to be, it was perfect.
When Eddie pulled away, he let out a small laugh.
"Robin said this would happen as soon as I said I was staying in your room."
"She said I would have a nightmare that left us both crying and kissing in a bed that is definitely big enough for us to not be cuddling, but we definitely were?" Steve asked with a smirk. "She's good, but I don't think she's that good."
"Oh, shut up," Eddie lightly smacked his shoulder. "You know what I meant."
He did. She'd said the same to him.
"Well, maybe if you hold my hand, I'll be able to fall back asleep?" Steve suggested.
"Yeah, I could do that. Or..."
"Or?"
"Or I could..."
"You could?"
Eddie nipped his bottom lip.
"I could kiss you in...other places..."
"Eds, just say what you wanna do," Steve giggled.
"Fine! I could suck you off so you can sleep!" Eddie laughed.
"You could do that, yeah," Steve nodded, pretending that wasn't enough to rile him up.
"I could. If you want."
"Is it just to help me fall asleep?" Steve asked, suddenly nervous that this wasn't anything more than helping out a friend.
"If I wasn't completely clear before: I love you. I love you enough to sacrifice myself in your nightmares, I love you enough to do stupid physical therapy sessions that I hate because you get sad when I don't go, I love you enough to make Robin take a room with Nancy and Jonathan so I could stay right here with you, and I love you enough to suck your dick to help you sleep."
Steve snorted.
"Be my guest, then," he gestured down at his lap, watching Eddie literally lick his lips.
Just when Eddie was breathing against his stomach, ready to move further down, Steve stopped him.
"Wait!" Eddie looked up at him, eyes wide. "I love you, too. Need you to know that."
Fondness poured from Eddie as he pressed a kiss to Steve's stomach.
"I know, sweetheart."
555 notes
·
View notes
Text
when they walk in on you changing
dazai, atsushi, chuuya, fyodor, akutagawa
warnings: lowercase writing, suggustive? (not to extreme), cursing!
a/n: reader is referred as they/them! REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! this is also my first time writing for fyodor!!! plz expect him to be so out of character- 🙃 also- i can't speak russian- so apologies for any spelling mistakes- i used google translate...part two??
dazai osamu 🩹
stop.
he would become such a flirt.
after a long day of work, there was nothing more he wanted than to come home and be greeted by his sweet belladonna.
by long i mean him literally just annoying kunikida to death and not lifting a finger- barely.
the sound of the keys clashing together was deaf in your ears as you were wearing headphones.
you were in your room, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and underwear.
you were rummaging through your drawer, softly singing to yourself as you picked a pair of pajama pants.
meanwhile, your boyfriend has entered the apartment, locking the door behind him.
he called out for you, however no response was given.
he grew suspicious...but didn't panic.
he called out for you again, taking off his tan trenchcoat and hung it on the hook beside the front door.
as he entered deeper into the apartment, he heard the soft sound of your singing.
his eyes lingered over to the half-closed door of your bedroom you and he shared.
he peeked his eye in the crack- and smiled to himself. slowly he opened the door wider, watching you softly shake your butt as you vibed to your song.
headphones still upon your head.
dazai's smile turned into a smirk as he entered the room.
you picked a pair of pants- now putting them on- still unaware dazai was in the room as well.
before you could put your leg into the pant leg- you felt your right headphone lift upward, and a whisper tickled your ear.
"well~ this isn't what i was expecting when coming home~"
"HOLY SHI-"
you screamed.
throwing your pants at dazai's direction and fell backwards on the bedsheets.
his laughter filled the room as he held your pants in his arms- towering over you.
"DAZAI!!"
"hi 'donna~" he winked, and you blushed mad.
"GET OUT OF MY ROOM!"
you covered your body with the blankets as dazai gasped; "this isn't just your room! we share this room, remember?"
"I DON'T CARE IF IT'S THE PRESIDENTS ROOM- GET OUT!" you whined, throwing pillows at him and he held his arms up in defense.
"okay-okay! i'm leaving!" he laughed, starting to walk out of the room.
"eh- HEY! GIVE ME MY PANTS BACK!-DAZAI!"
when you finished changing, you awkwardly walked out of the room and peeked your head through the living room where you saw dazai lounging on the couch watching tv.
he noticed you from the corner of his eye and smirked, "and they return from their hiding~"
you blushed.
"shut up! i will shove a sock down your throat-"
"after seeing that body~ i hope it's more then a soc-"
you proceed to toss a pillow at him and tackle him- hitting him over and over again as he begged for mercy.
atsushi nakajima 🐯
dudes a sweetheart.
gives you privacy.
first- he woke you up.
in the sweetest way possible.
with a kiss on the nose, leading to your cheeks, neck, jaw, bridge of your nose, forehead, temple..until he reached your lips.
he smiled hearing you stir awake, "morning, sunshine.." he whispered, brushing your bangs away from your face.
"..mornin'.." you yawned, rubbing your eyes.
he giggled at your cat like strech and kissed your cheek, getting out from under the covers...that just lead to you hiding under all of them- having all the room to yourself.
"you have to get up to, y'know?" he reminded, peeking at the clock that read 5: 56, "we have work!"
all you did was nod.
he smiled and left the room- going to the bathroom with his dress attire.
2 minutes passed and he has yet to come back to the room, so you assumed you'd just get changed here.
so you rolled out of bed, getting your work attire set and ready.
you pulled your shirt off your body, and laid it on your bed. you took your pants off- and was about to put on the pants until you heard the door open.
as atsushi opened the door; you whip your head toward him as you yelped and fell onto the bed and backwards onto the floor.
"OH my god- Y/N!!" he cried, rushing over to you and was about to ask if you were okay until he noticed...you were half-naked.
he screamed, apologies left and right, up and down until he covered his eyes and ran backward, hitting the bed and falling the same way you did perviously.
"I'M SO SORRY BABE- I-I DIDNT KNOW- OH I'M SO SORRY!!!"
as you both were a blushing mess, atsushi ran out.
5 minutes later, you exited the room and saw atsushi in the living room.
he was biting his nails and bouncing his leg.
until he noticed your figure.
"Y/N- i'm so sorry!! i didn't mean to walk in on you- i had no idea! i'm sorry if i made you uncomfortable─"
you cupped his face and laughed, "it's okay- atsushi! it was an accident!"
he felt glad you weren't upset with him- and made sure to always make sure to knock when he knows your in the room.
chuuya nakahara 🍷
like atsushi.
he's a gentlemen and respects your privacy.
it was late, and chuuya called to let you know he was working overtime.
your heart flutters each time he lets you know because he remembers you- even doing the most deadliest of jobs known to man.
as he was at work you had the apartment all to yourself; which you of course took advantage of him not being here.
you looked through he wine collection, tasting the ones that seemed to interest you.
you looekd through his hat collection; aka basically his closet- and had your own small fashion show.
hours passed- and the time was 12:26pm.
you didn't get his message about him coming home; so your boyfriend entered the apartment.
"y/n- i'm home!
silence.
he heard some music echo from your bedroom; which sparks his curiousity.
he slowly walked toward the room, and opened he door.
"y/n-"
"CHUUYA!!"
you screamed, having nothing but your pants on and putting on the shirt until you heard him walk in.
his eyes widened as he closed the door- apologizing.
silence.
awkward silence.
as you left your room after getting changed, you found chuuya sitting on the couch leaning forward and playing with ths fingers.
"oh- y/n! h-how was your day?" he asked, suddenly noticing you and sat more comfortably on the couch.
you had a blush on your face as you nod, "my day was...good."
he placed his lips together to make a straight line and nodded; "that's-good.."
you suddenly burst out into laughter, causing him to now blush.
"what-what's so funny?"
"your-haha!-more embarrassed then-haha-i was!!"
he turned red and looked away from you, crossing his arms.
"i-shut up! lock the damn door next time!"
fyodor dostoevsky 🫀
bastard.
FOUCKING bastard.
you begged him; getting on all fours and to his feet; and begged him to take you to the pool he owned...somehow...for some reason (just go with it PLZ)
with a sigh, he agreeded and allowed you to have; what- 3 hours of the pool to yourself?
you ran- SPEED RAN- to your bedroom and packed for the pool.
you know- the essentials. swimsuit, towel, slippers/flip-flops, etc.
he watched you get ready with a sly smile on his face from his desk.
the way you got so excited to go to this pool- pleased him??? idk, he just felt good- anyway.
you called out to him that you'll see him in the pool as well??
hm- we'll see.
timeskip to you reaching the indoor pool.
it was HUGE.
WHY WAS HE KEEPING THIS FROM YOU- WHO EVEN IS HE??
oh yeah- nvm. lmao.
you rushed to the change rooms, excited to step into the pool.
you've been stressed all week; unable to find any relaxation at all- accept this one time...you are 100% taking advantage of this!
because- we'll it was empty, you decided to just change in the middle of the room where the room was.
you took of your shirt- revealing your bare skin.
next was your pants.
as you took them off; you noticed your butt in the mirror reflection-
oh.
okay.
damn, fyodor, that lucky bastard.
you grinned to yourself- wiggling your butt side to side and giggled to yourself.
then, you slapped it gently.
and again- then moved up down your thigh.
suddenly- you heard a familair voice-
"would you rather spend your hours looking at yourself in the mirror; or go in the pool with me? because- i can take either or."
with a scream you bounced backwards toward the mirror.
"HOLY GRAVY AND CHEESE-"
you blushed- realizing it was fyodor.
you quickly tried to grab your towel and wrap it around yourself. before you could try to wrap it all around your body- fyodor suddenly appeared in front of you.
HOW DID HE GET HERE SO FAST-
he rubbed a hand on your hip, close to your stomach.
"hm~ you've been hiding this beautiful body from me for weeks, дорогой?"
you blushed hard. feeling his hot breath on your neck-
"f-fyodor..too-close.."
he kissed your lips, cutting you off.
you melted into fast...
you pulled away panting..
"pool?"
he asked and you nodded slowly...
giggling softly..
"i'm ready when you are..."
akutagawa rynnosuke 🩸
he would be embarrassed
awkwardly leave the room...with a blush on his face.
it was late at night, time was around 11:34pm.
you were tired when you got home from work.
your a member of the ADA; yet dating one of the most dangerous port mafia members.
entering your apartment, you kicked of your shoes and left your coat on the floor.
you had no idea akutagawa was home so when you entered your bedroom you shared with him.
you took off your pants and went to the drawer to pick some pants.
as you found pants, you put them on. now taking off your shirt.
meanwhile, akutagawa exits from the bathroom and walked toward the bedroom.
he didn't notice it a crack open, so as he enters.
you freeze.
he freezes.
he has a blush on his face as he looked at your upper bare body.
you blushed.
he slowly closed the door and left..
you were red.
he just..left?
said nothing?
well what was he suppose to say??
minutes after you finished changing into your pajamas...you went to find akutagawa.
he was just in the living room, staring into a void.
you walked toward him slowly...
"ryu?"
he looked at you and was about o leave-
"wait!!" you stopped him.
"are you okay?"
he held his head low.
"i didn't mean to walk in on you...i assumed you thought i was a creep and so i left...i should be asking if your okay.."
you frowned, "aku- aha! it's okay- your my partner!! it's okay to see each other naked...even if its accidental..." you shrugged.
he nods slightly and held your hand, "please let me know if i ever make you uncomfortable...i hate knowing i did..."
you kisses his knuckles, "of course~ i love you!"
"....i love you, too."
#๋࣭ ⭑ rue writes 🖋#bsd#bsd x reader#bungo stray dogs#bungo stray dogs x reader#bsd x y/n#bungou stray dogs#bungou stray dogs x reader#bsd dazai#bsd chuuya#bsd atsushi#bsd fyodor#bsd akutagawa#dazai x reader#chuuya x reader#fyodor x reader#atsushi x reader#akutgawa x reader#bsd headcanons#x reader#bsd fluff#gender neutral reader#my writing
731 notes
·
View notes
Text
Banner by me, dividers by @saradika
Based on this ask
Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is his own warning! Some cussing. Talks of prostitution. Manipulation. Implied forced body modification/mutilation. Mentions of murder/poison.
Now That We Don't Talk
The chill in the air made you shiver as you walked down the sidewalk towards Tigris’ boutique. Like every Wednesday you were meeting her for brunch. You only wished that you opted to take Coriolanus up on his offer to have the chauffeur take you since the winter winds were a bit harsh today. Of course, you declined his offer, telling him that you were meeting his cousin at her boutique this midmorning instead of the cafe where you usually went for your brunches with the kind hearted stylist.
Coryo wasn't happy with your answer but he accepted it nevertheless. He also told you to wear your new fur coat, the one he got you less than a month ago, since Lucretius ‘Lucky’ Flickerman's weather report predicted a cold, wintery day with the possibility of light snowfall.
After agreeing to wear the luxury fur coat (your fiance said it was a rare fur, Russian sable, and that you were the only in the Capitol to have it), Coriolanus rose from the dining room table only to give you a kiss on your temple and prepare to leave for an early morning meeting with some political strategist for his campaign.
Yes, your man was running for president of Panem.
Holding your coat closer together with your glove covered hand, you walked a tad bit faster. You were grateful that the walk to Tigris’ boutique wasn't too far from the penthouse you shared with Coriolanus. Meaning you didn't have to brave the cold too long. You hated the cold, but with how you were raised it's only a given that you'd hate it.
Upon seeing the scrolling print sign for Tigris' boutique swinging in the wind, you felt a sense of relief. In a matter of moments you'd be warm.
“Tigris, I'm here!” You called out to the blonde as soon as you set foot into the shop.
A girl with bubble gum pink hair was at the front counter of the shop. She smiled at you as her boss, Tigris, emerged from the back. You exchanged warm greetings and hugs before she ushered you down a hall and up the stairs that led to her condo.
“I'm sorry that we couldn't go to the cafe, but between requests and designing a new wardrobe for the victory tour, I've been swamped.” Tigris sweetly apologized for your change in plans as you removed your fur coat.
“It's fine, Tigris. I don't mind having brunch here.” You replied with a smile while hanging the coat up on the corner rack by the door.
The stylist's eyes took in the luxury fur hanging by her door and asked, “That's not the coat from my new line that I made for you. Did Coriolanus get it for you?”
“Yes.” You nodded, going over to the plush sofa. “He gave it to me a few weeks ago and insisted that I wear it today.” You innocently said, not understanding the true meaning behind Coriolanus’ actions.
Bless your heart, but you were innocent and you'd never think that your loving and caring boyfriend would do anything to hurt anyone, especially his cousin. But…that wasn't the case and his true reason for making telling you to wear your new Russian sable coat was to slight his cousin. To hurt Tigris since he knew she gave you the light pink peacoat with faux fur collar from her new line as a holiday gift.
Tigris weakly smiled, feeling sick to her stomach that you were so sweet and being led to the slaughter by her cold and calculating cousin, as she went to the kitchen to grab the charcuterie board she had prepared earlier for your brunch along with making the two of you some mimosas.
When she returned, she set the items on the coffee table only for you to frown and tell her, “You didn't put any alcohol in the orange juice, did you? Coryo doesn't like it when I drink outside of galas or when he's not with me.”
Tigris gave you a long look of disbelief, only to sigh, “He doesn't have to know you had a mimosa in my condo. What's brunch without mimosas?”
Shaking your head, you refused the drink. “He told me not to drink it so I won't. Please, just get me a plain orange juice.”
Tigris sighed heavily and was about to give into your request, but changed her mind whenever a large shiny diamond ring on your left ring finger caught her attention.
No.
No, you couldn't be.
Grabbing yout hand, she looked between you and the very large ring. “When did you start wearing this?”
“Coriolanus proposed last night.” You beamed, pulling your hand out of your friend's hold only to flick your hand up and admire the ring on your finger. “Coryo says it's one of a kind. That he designed it special for me.” Pointing to the ring, you explained the ring's design. “The large diamond in the middle's a rare pink diamond and all the white diamonds on the side are marquises. It's supposed to be a pink rose because those are my favorite flowers.”
Tigris felt her heart drop to the pit of her stomach at hearing you happily tell her about the shackle her ruthless cousin had slipped on your finger hours ago.
She always thought that Coriolanus would grow bored of using you as his plaything and return you to your family. The star designer assumed that her cousin would push you away once he announced his intent to run as the youngest president of Panem. Tigris assumed that Coriolanus would spurn you because of your district background and latch onto a woman of impeccable Capitol breeding in his unquenchable thirst for power.
But she was wrong.
Coriolanus proposed and you said yes.
Now Tigris knew that she had to warn you about him if you had any chance of escaping him. Any chance at happiness. You weren't just her cousin's girlfriend fiance, but a dear friend of hers and she wanted you to be safe.
You'd never be safe with Coriolanus.
So, with a sad look in her soft blue eyes, the blonde woman told you, “Sweetheart, there's things about Coriolanus you don't know, but need to know.”
“Like what, Tigris?” You innocently asked, assuming that she was going to tell you a childhood story or something.
But what she told you wasn't a childhood story. No, what she told you made your eyes pop out of your head. Tigris, to your utter shock and horror, revealed all of Coriolanus' sins to you.
Sins that he never wanted you to know because he never wanted you to see him as anything but your loving and protective Coryo.
When Coriolanus came home you were in the kitchen finishing dinner. The smell had his mouth watering as he hung up his heavy maroon coat. He smiled to himself just thinking about how you'd never have to lift another finger in the kitchen ever again once he became president.
You'd have an entire kitchen full of the best private chefs for that. You'd be able to fill your evenings reading your ancient books and watching those trashy Capitol tv shows you enjoyed so much. Oh, and pleasing him at every whim.
“Dinner smells good, darling.” Coriolanus told you, stepping into the kitchen.
You nearly jumped, feeling a bit snuck up on, as you heard his baritone fill the air. You prayed that he didn't notice your jumpiness, but he did.
“What's wrong?” He asked, coming up behind you to wrap an arm around your waist in a comforting way.
But what should've felt like a comforting gesture didn't. In fact, his touch made you feel sick. His hands, covered in so much blood from all the murders he committed to rise up the political ranks, felt foreign as they touched you. His touch was that of the angel of death; not a lover, or at least that's how it felt after hearing his cousin’s damning words of warning earlier.
Shaking your head, you weakly assured him, “I'm fine, just tired’s all.”
“I told you, my darling rose, that you should've had the driver take you to Tigris’ for brunch. That it was too cold out for you to walk.” Coriolanus remarked before letting you go. “If you're getting ready to plate our food, I'll pour us some drinks.”
The thought of him pouring you a drink had you choking on air. Tigris' earlier words washed over you.
“He poisons people he deems as disposable or a threat to him, sweetheart. He offers them a drink and watches them die to tie up his loose ends.”
Before you knew what was happening, you were pushing past your fiance (nearly knocking him on his ass) and running out of the kitchen to the bathroom.
Concerned, Coriolanus followed you only to find you hunched over the toilet coughing and spitting up bile. Going over to the vanity, he turned on the sink and grabbed a small washcloth from the drawer they were stored in. He ran the white cloth under the cool water for a few moments before turning off the faucet and wringing out the washcloth.
Bending down next to you, he tucked your hair behind your ear and ran the cool cloth over your face. “Are you okay, darling? You're not coming down with something, are you?”
He couldn't help but hope that he knocked you up. He wanted nothing more than to tie you to him forever with a baby. Having a child with him would be more of a life binding contract then marriage. But he knew that morning sickness usually happened, well, in the morning.
His icy blue eyes looked at you with concern. Believe it or not, the cold man with a too small black heart truly did care about you and your well-being. Truth be told, you and the cat you twisted his arm into adopting were the only things on God's green earth that he gave a fuck about.
Hell, he didn't even give a shit about his own cousin these days, given how cold she was to him once he returned from his summer stint in District 12 as a peacekeeper all those years ago. Only reason he hasn't cut her off yet is because of you and how much you adore the fashionista bitch.
“I'm fine, just a bit tired.” You lied. Truth was you weren't fine. The fact that your fiance was a murderer that might end up poisoning you to get rid of you because of your inferior birth made your stomach churn.
Yes, Tigris had told you that Coriolanus looked down on district people. That he was disgusted by them and viewed them to be lower than gutter rats. She told you that she thought he would've grown tired of you, but now feared what he'd do to you since he wanted to marry you.
She told you that she felt her cousin had no real intentions on marrying you. That she was afraid he'd poison you (kill you) to gain sympathy and higher polling numbers for his campaign.
Now the blonde woman's words ran wild thru your head and you couldn't even look at the platinum blonde man who owned your heart the same way again.
“Perhaps you should go rest in our room.” Coriolanus suggested, thinking maybe some rest would make you feel better.
Coriolanus was wrong. Rest didn't make you feel better. Nothing made you feel better. In fact, in the days after your brunch with Tigris you started to pull away from him.
At first it was subtle, but then it became painfully obvious to him that you were pulling away. Especially when you stopped calling him Coryo. That's when he knew he no longer owned your heart.
Something was wrong and it drove him insane not knowing what it was. He couldn't figure out what had changed so drastically. It's as if you looked at him with undying love one day and then suddenly woke up to look at him with a fearful love the next.
A fearful love…
Damnit!
Did something scare you? Did somebody tell you something to make you shrink into yourself and become a shell? If they did, well, they'd pay for it.
Pay with their life.
He decided that he was confronting you tonight about being so distant. He was getting to the bottom of your problems because over a week of you not being the woman he fell for was enough. Coriolanus couldn't handle you pulling away from him anymore.
Goddamnit, he's gone too long without fucking you.
Enough was enough.
“Darling, we need to talk.” Coriolanus told you as soon as he got home from work.
You stared at him from your spot on the sofa as he hung up his coat. “About what?” You asked, your eyes flickering back to the book you had in your hand. It was an old one from the ancient pre-Panem days. Your fiance got it for you at some high-end auction house.
“Us.” The word was clipped as he let it out of his mouth.
You refused to look at Coriolanus as he crossed the room. Instead, you kept your eyes glued to the pages of Pride & Prejudice.
“Did I do something to make you pull away from me?” You heard him ask while stopping in front of you.
“No.” You half lied. He didn't do anything to you (yet), but it was the sins he committed in the past that had your head spinning. Deciding you didn't want to get into it with him, you simply said, “I'm not pulling away from you, Coriolanus. I've just been tired’s all.”
“Don't lie to me.”
“I'm not-” You began only for him to loom over you and shout, “Yes you are!”
The pressure had finally gotten to him. He finally snapped.
Yanking the book out of your hands and tossing it somewhere across the room, he ranted, “You won't call me Coryo anymore, my darling. You've been pulling away from me for over a week now and I need to know why. I miss the way you used the look at me, darling. Hell, I miss the way we used to be.”
Your eyes fell to the floor as you sighed, “I told you, I've just been tired.”
That was the wrong answer.
You should've told him the truth…
Coriolanus grabbed you by your upper arms with a tight, bruising force and pulled you to your feet, all the while yelling, “Stop fucking lying to me, darling! I can't handle your distance and lies anymore!” His chest wildly heaved up and down in anger as he added in, “I want to know what I did to make you stop loving me, my darling rose.”
You never stopped loving him and told him as much, which only prompted him to ask why you've been pulling away from him.
So now the truth you've been keeping from him flowed out of your mouth like a raging river.
“Tigris saw my ring and told me that you didn't mean to go thru with marrying me. That you'd just poison and kill me to boost votes for your campaign and gain sympathy as being the heartbroken lover.”
“What?” Coriolanus blinked his baby blues. He removed his hands from your arms, only to take your hands in his and lead you to sit down on the sofa. A soft look washed over his face as he assured you, “I'd never do that to you, darling."
Shaking your head, you cried, “She says that you've killed before for power and to climb the political ladder, Coriolanus.” Tears were rolling down your cheeks as you wailed, “And she told me that you're disgusted by district people, Coriolanus. That you view us as lower than gutter rats.”
It was true that he thought district people were scum, but it wasn't true that he viewed you that way. You weren't scum to him. You were better than where you were born. Hell, you lived in the Capitol for so long now that he doesn't even consider you District anymore.
“Tigris says that I don't matter to you; that you don't love me and will marry a girl of proper Capitol breeding once you dump poison in my drink.”
How dare his cousin tell you that he didn't love you?! He did love you. Hell, he was more obsessed with you then he ever was with the lying, treacherous, traitor, snake charmer of a whore singer he nearly destroyed his life over.
No, he loved you with everything he had inside of him. Despite being a dark creature that had no problems killing to get, keep, and maintain power, he truly did love you. You were the best thing that ever happened to him and he knew that he couldn't let his cousin turn you against him.
Coriolanus wanted, no needed, to be your Coryo again and he'd say anything to make it happen.
“I wish you would've told me what Tigris told you as soon as it happened, my darling rose.” Coriolanus sighed while wrapping his arms around you. Pulling you against his chest, his silver tongue weaved its magic with the perfect words to turn you against Tigris. “She's jealous that nobody wants her because, despite her impeccable reputation as a stylist, a lot of men remember that years ago she used to sell her body on the black market. Tigris is also upset that she became a stylist because I told Dr. Gaul that the tributes needed uniforms and interview outfits.” Threading his fingers thru your soft hair, he added in the final words he needed to make Tigris look like the villain in this story. “She's upset that it was me who made her who she is. Made her a star designer. And she's jealous that I have somebody when she doesn't because of some choices she made before I could make her stylist dreams come true.”
“I never knew Tigris sold herself.” You gasped, clearly a bit horrified at the thought of your friend doing sexual favors with men for money.
A large smug smirk spreads over Coriolanus' face as he continues to hold you close to his chest. Oh, he knew that he had you right where he wanted you. He had to lay it on thick so he'd be able to reel you in; have you under his thumb again. But he planned on having you look at him like you used to. He'd say and do anything to accomplish that too.
His voice quivered as he put on an act worthy of an academy award. “My darling rose, we don't talk anymore and it's killing me. The possibility of losing you because of some lies my jealous whore of a cousin told you because she's alone and miserable is heartbreaking.” He sucked in a breath, making you think that he was trying to prevent himself from breaking down, only to confess in a broken timbre, “I miss making love to you, darling.”
The phrase making love made his skin crawl as if spiders were underneath the epidermis, but he knew that to manipulate you back into his arms then he had to say it. After all, making love sounds more poetic than fucking your goddamn brains out does.
You lifted your head off his chest, only to look up into his icy blue eyes. Eyes that looked pitiful, like a kicked puppy’s, as he poured his heart out to you.
“I love you more than I ever thought possible, my darling rose. You consume me and losing you would destroy me. Turn me into a monster.” Coriolanus truthfully admitted. He wasn't lying about that, he was obsessed with you and knew deep down that if he ever lost you then he'd become a monster deadlier than anything that ever came out of Dr. Gaul's lab.
And that was scary considering at the moment he had no morals, just the compass of his late father to guide him.
His large, calloused hand cupped your cheek as he swore, “I will never hurt you, Y/N. And I will never ever kill you or try to.” He pressed a kiss to your lips, only to rest his forehead on yours and confess. “I love you, my darling rose.”
That phrase was one he never thought he'd utter, but he did it to reel you in. To make sure that you never left his side. He needed you just like he needed air to breathe, so if he had to make himself a bit weak by saying the love word to you then so be it.
Hearing him say ‘I love you, my darling rose’ made your fears and doubts about him fly right out the window. He'd never said that to you before, not until now, and you knew he meant it. That he said it because he loved you and didn't want you to leave him.
But you could never leave him. You loved him too much.
“I love you too, Coryo.” You softly smiled, looking at your hand still holding his.
Hearing you call him Coryo again was the signal Coriolanus needed to let him know that he'd won. You were once again his and under his control.
“I'm sorry I was being distant. I was just scared.” You apologized, feeling foolish for pushing your fiance away over hearsay.
Tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, your fiance told you, “I know you were, darling. I only wished that you came to me so I could put your fears to rest.”
You believed that he loved you and wouldn't do you any harm, but you were still curious about one thing. “Coryo, have you poisoned people to climb up the political ladder; for power?”
“Of course not, Y/N.” He firmly denied, only to add in the rhetorical question of, “And why would I want to kill my political allies? Makes no sense, darling.”
Yes, why would he want to kill his political allies? You couldn't help, but think that he'd need his political connections alive since they'd be able to help him in elections better breathing than pushing up daisies.
What you didn't know was that Coriolanus craved power and would kill anyone to get it and keep it. Didn't matter who they were. But…you didn't need to know that.
All you needed to know was that he'd NEVER kill you.
“Yea, it doesn't make any sense.” You innocently agreed with your fiance.
Looking between you and the clock on the wall, he suggested, “We still have half an hour before the Justice Building closes for the night. Let's go have the Magistrate marry us.”
“You want to get married tonight?” You asked, wide-eyed, with a mix of excitement and disbelief in your voice.
No.
No, he didn't want to get married tonight. In fact, Coriolanus wanted to marry you in a lavish ceremony dripping in diamonds, gold, roses, and silk bunting in the presidential palace right after winning the election. But…he knew that Tigris made you doubt his intentions of making you Mrs. First Lady Snow so the only way to scrub that from your mind was to marry you right away.
“Yes.” He nodded. Pulling you to your feet, he simply instructed, “Go put on that white dress you wore for the winter gala, Mrs. Snow.”
The following morning Tigris’ heart sank into the pit of her stomach as she read the main headline in the political section of the newspaper.
Presidential Frontrunner Now A Family Man- Senator Coriolanus Snow & Long Time Girlfriend Wed Last Night In Private Ceremony
Tigris mourned for the loss of your freedom, of your life. She has no idea why you didn't heed her warnings, but she wished you did.
Before she could start to read the article, a knock sounded at her door. When she answered it, she found a pair of peacekeepers at her door. They told her that they had strict orders from Senator Snow to escort her to a very important appointment he had made for her.
It was an appointment that would change the rest of her life and if she knew what it was for, maybe she would've tried to run from the peacekeepers her cousin had doing his dark bidding.
You hadn't seen Tigris since you married Coriolanus. He said that it was for the best. Of course, you believed him. He married you when she said he wouldn't. Coriolanus had proved her a liar.
It's been roughly 5 months since you've been Mrs. Snow and you couldn't be happier, especially since you were expecting your first child with Coryo.
A baby boy.
A baby boy the two of you decided to name Cassian Xandros. It was to keep up the Snow tradition of the first born son having the initials C.X.S.
You thought it was so sweet how your husband wanted to uphold his family's traditions.
Too bad he didn't let you uphold any of the traditions you grew up with. Mhm…
“Are we still going to be on this campaign tour during the games?” You asked your husband, who was sitting in an armchair, sipping on coffee and reading the paper, in the luxury train carriage you shared.
“We’ll go back to the Capitol for the games; then we'll continue the campaign tour.” He explained while turning the page of his newspaper.
You were reading your favorite book, Pride & Prejudice, whenever Coriolanus stood up and walked over to where you were resting on the sofa. Folding the paper, so only one page was visible, he handed it to you and solemnly said, “Darling, you need to see this.”
“What is it? A drop in your poll numbers?” You innocently asked, setting your book aside and reaching for the paper.
“No, it's something very unsettling.” He said as you took the paper from his large hand.
You wondered what was so unsettling in the paper, but soon got your answer as you read the headline in the current events column.
Star Stylist Tigris Has Transformed Into Her Namesake, A Tiger
As if that wasn't enough, the picture of her transformed face made you gasp. She no longer looked like herself, but truly did look like a tiger. She had plastic surgery and tattoos to modify her face, neck, and chest. Black lines zig zagged all over her and her once blue eyes were now a bright yellow with thick, sweeping liner. She even had whisker implants and her upper lip split to mimic the mouth of a cat. Even her hair was different. The once light blonde locks now had chunk black highlights in it.
You couldn't believe your eyes. Why would she do that? She was so pretty…
You must've asked your question out loud, because the next thing you know your husband's sitting next to you, sighing, “I don't know why, my darling rose. She was pretty, but now nobody will ever want her.” Taking the paper from you and passing you back your book, he knowingly said, “If only she didn't tell you lies; try to break us up. Then she wouldn’t be alone.”
Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak, @spear-bearing-bi-witch, @gisellesprettylies
#dark!coriolanus snow x reader#dark!coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow#tbosas#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the hunger games#thg#coryo snow#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus fanfiction#coryo snow x reader#innocent!reader#tbosas fanfiction#tbosas fic#tbosas x reader#coryo x reader#coryo x you#coryo snow fanfiction
307 notes
·
View notes
Text
Innate Desire to Protect
Simon Ghost Riley X Reader
Synopsis: Reader puts themselves in harms way to protect Simon.
Warnings: violence, swearing, blood, mentions of death, angst
Note: As promised here's the ghost version of reader sacrificing themselves to protect him.
If anyone has any requests please let me know, I'd be happy to write them!!
Still new to writing, so apologies if these aren't super good!!
--------------------------------------------------
It was a few hours before 141 had to ship out for a mission, and you found yourself still locked in Simon's embrace in your bed. It was peaceful, and you knew to take advantage of moments like these, before going out into the field.
“Ready for today?” Simon asked, rubbing small circles on your back.
“Ready as I can be. Always makes me nervous, missions like these. We are grasping at straws, trying to find intel we don’t even know for sure exists.” You huffed in frustration.
The mission was to infiltrate a small gang’s hideout near the Russian border. Laswell had told the team that she received a tip, that the gang had possible intel leading to the whereabouts of Makarov, the current notorious criminal your unit was investigating. Needless to say, it was hard not to question the validity of this “tip” Laswell was going off of, as she wouldn’t disclose her source to the team.
“I get it. But I trust Laswell, I know she would never put us in harm’s way, if she didn’t think it was vital.” Simon said, trying to soothe your increasing worries.
You hummed in response, burying your face into his neck, breathing in his scent of old musky cologne, stale cigarette smoke, and sweat. This always brought you calmness, and allowed you to step away from your anxieties.
You both stayed there for a while longer, the silence that engulfed you was comforting. Like all good things, you knew this small piece of sanctuary had to come to an end. You looked over to the clock on your stand and saw that it was time to prepare for the mission.
You looked over at Simon solemnly, “ Alright, suppose it’s time to get up and face the music, yeah?”
“From the way you’re talking, one would think you hate this job , love.” Simon chuckled, making his way out of your small bed.
“Oh hush, I wouldn't be here if I didn’t enjoy it. Just some missions have me more on edge than others.”
“I know love, just messing with you.” Simon replied, kissing your temple. “I’ll see you out there, okay?”
“Of course.” You said, standing on your toes to give Simon a kiss, which he gladly returned.
“I love you, Simon.” you said softly, pulling away from the kiss.
“I love you too Y/N.”
Later on, Price was giving a debrief as to what was to be expected on the mission. It was simple enough, two teams, Alpha and Bravo would be infiltrating the two buildings held by this small gang. Alpha would be infiltrating building A, Bravo team would be infiltrating building B. You, Soap, and Ghost would be on A: Price, Gaz and a stand-in from Kortac would be on team B.
Price dismissed you all, and sent everyone to the chopper. Ghost fell in step alongside you, and you struggled to not grab his hand for comfort. You looked over to him and gave a small smile, which was returned with a hard glare from underneath the mask. You realized this was no longer Simon you were interacting with, this was Ghost. You would find little to no comfort in this man until hours after the mission was completed, when Simon would finally show his face again.
----------------------------------------------------
On the ground, you and Soap were trailing behind Ghost, who was taking the lead on infiltrating the building.
“Reaper, Soap, clear those two rooms ahead, rendezvous with me once they are clear. I’ll push ahead upstairs.” Ghost said, walking away from you two. The authority in his voice made it clear there was no questioning his orders.
“Copy L.T.” Soap replied.
“Reaper, I’ll clear the left, you clear the right, copy?” Soap turned to you.
“Copy.” You said turning to your right. You peered around the room checking every possible hiding spot for anyone to be. “Soap, Ghost, it’s eerily quiet here. Has me a bit concerned that we haven’t seen anyone yet.” You said into your mouthpiece.
“It’s fine Reaper, keep your head up, and weapons -.” Ghost got cut off before he could finish his sentence.
“Ghost?” You asked.
Soap came into the room you were in, and met your concerned eyes. Then you both heard a loud bang and shouts from above.
“Shit, he's probably being ambushed. We have to go assist him!” You cried out, going to make a move.
“Hold on, we need to be smart about this. If we go rushing in there, it may not end well for any of us.” Soap said grabbing your shoulder, preventing you from running to Ghost.
“Okay cover my 6, we will go up the stairs and assess before charging in.” You said, making your way to the stairs.
“Careful Reaper, we don’t know what’s ahead of us.” Soap whispered from behind you.
You made your way up the stairs, and peered around the corner. Ghost was engaged in a fight with three armed gang members. His gun had been knocked from his hands, and from the looks of it, he was taking a pretty good beating.
At that moment, everything started to go in slow motion for you. Seeing the love of your life being brutally beaten triggered an innate burning desire to protect him, no matter the cost. You rushed into the fight, taking out two of the men each with a shot to the head. Ghost used this to his advantage, and tried to stand up to take the final man out. In doing this, he left an opening for the final man to lift his pistol to Ghost’s head from a few feet away. Without thinking, you threw yourself in front of Ghost, the minute the gang member pulled the trigger.
From there, everything went hazy for you. Next thing you knew, the gang member was on the floor, a shot to the chest taking him out. Soap came in right after, and inspected the bodies of the gang members, making sure they were out of commission.
“Y/N!” Ghost called, running over to your collapsing form. “This is Ghost, we need an evac NOW! Reaper’s been hit.” He said into his comms.
“Shit, what did you do?” Soap exclaimed, assessing your injury.
You looked down, and saw the bullet had hit your side, just where your vest didn’t cover you.
“S-Sorry, I wa-asn’t thinking.” you stuttered, struggling to get the words out.
“No shit you weren’t thinking! Why would you have gone in like that? There were so many better ways that could have been carried out!” Ghost yelled, his voice booming.
“Ghost, maybe this isn’t the place?” Soap said, trying to calm his Lieutenant down.
“Mind your place, Sergeant.” Ghost snapped back.
Soap put his hands up and slowly walked to the window, checking for the evac, every so often looking over to check on you.
“Simon, please look at me.” You said, trying to get the man holding you to show you some sort of comfort.
“It’s Ghost.” He replied, his voice eerily cold.
“P-please. I’m sorry. I couldn’t take it… seeing you on the ground like that. I couldn’t think at that moment, my body moved on its own.” You cried softly, tears starting to fall down your cheeks.
You could see the internal struggle in his eyes, he wanted to stay mad at you, you were careless and needlessly got hurt just to save him, but you were hurt nonetheless which was a sight that broke his heart into a million pieces.
Just as Simon was starting to appear underneath the mask that was Ghost, Price called out on the comms. “Evac is approaching, get Reaper outside now, Bravo team will meet you there.” At this, Ghost immediately went back into soldier mode, any trace of your Simon vanished once again.
“Soap, help me move Y/N, have to bring them down to the evac point.”
“Copy L.T.”
-------------------------------------------------------
“How is she?” Price asked as the three of you approached the Evac point, Soap and Ghost holding either end of you as gently as they could.
“Bullet got her in the side, where the vest didn’t cover. She has lost a lot of blood.” Soap replied.
“Get her on the gurney, we will leave at once. Hang in there kid, no dying on our watch.” Price said, patting your head gently, his eyes showing the worry he was trying to hide.
As they placed you on the gurney, you felt yourself growing unbearably weak. You reached for your lover’s hand, which he just started at.
“Simon, please.” You begged. You were scared beyond belief at this point, and wanted nothing but the comfort only Simon could provide.
He softened at this, and grabbed your hand, giving it a tight squeeze.
“I’m s-sorry. If I make it through this, give me whatever lecture I know you have brewing in your head.” You said, trying to ease some of the tension.
“Believe me, love, it will be more than just a lecture you’ll get. You’ll make it out of this, just keep your eyes on me, yeah?” He replied, giving your hand another squeeze.
“O-oh yeah? What is this other thing you, you…” You slowly were losing consciousness. The darkness pulling you under, no matter how hard you tried fighting it.
“Y/N? Y/N! Love no, please don’t leave me.” He called to you, his cold facade disappearing completely now. He was desperately shaking you to keep you conscious. But it was too late. You had already slipped under.
—---------------------------------------------------
Note: I left this ending open as well! If anyone wants a part two, let me know! I'm not sure if I'd make the part two super angsty or fluff!
Thanks for reading!!😊🖤
#cod imagine#ghost mw2#simon riley imagine#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#konig x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost imagine
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
would you ever write something filthy for winter soldier? no pressure btw!
Experiments
Pairing || Winter Soldier x Female!Reader
Summary || HYDRA conducts sexual experiments on specimen The Winter Soldier.
Word Count || 2901
Contents & Warnings || Smut, Angst, Dark Themes — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, non-con, explicit content/language, sub!soldat, implied torture/murder/blood, restraints, unprotected vaginal sex, size kink, oral (male receiving), handjob, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, overstimulation, exhibition, creampie, bodily fluids.
Authors Note || The answer is yes sweet nonnie :D And I really love how this turned out. This is my first time writing for WS so please be kind :) Remember, read the warnings! I’m not responsible for your content consumption. Don’t like it, don’t read. And definitely don’t slap a label on just to be petty. There are no [ ] in the text below btw. Also apologies for no readmore cut. It’s currently bugged out and fucks up the text below.
Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!
Masterlist
You had no idea how long you had been in this stuffy and dim-lit room. Minutes? Hours? Days? It felt like an eternity but also like no time had passed at all. It was easy to lose track of it when you had no inclination whether it was day or night out. The room and its surroundings were bleak and dull, giving nothing away about your location.
How did you end up in this situation? Naked with strangers watching—discussing, researching, contemplating. And with a stranger's cock in your grasp? Making him come again, again, and again—an endless cycle of climax.
It all seemed like a blur now. A past from another time. A dream? A nightmare?
They promised good pay. Money that was beyond imaginable, but you had to take this with you to the grave. This experiment that you yourself had signed up for could never reach the light of day.
Tell anyone, and they will torture and mutilate you beyond recognition. Killing and dumping your body in a ditch.
Although the men were vicious beyond anything, they told you countless times that under any circumstances, you could leave. You were not here out of force. They would keep you safe. You had signed up for this, and whenever you wanted to terminate the deal you had sealed, you were allowed. But you could never, ever tell another living soul about what you had seen or experienced.
It felt like a week, but in reality, it had only been a day or so since these men had come and picked you up from your home—blindfolding and plugging your ears. Due to their safety and yours, you could not know where you were being taken.
After hours of traveling by car, train, and plane—taking all transportation possible—you had arrived. To where you did not know. A military bunker of some sort, possibly. Somewhere cold and emotionless. An unknown country.
Your blindfold and plugs were removed, and you sat in a dark room. A hanging bulb from the ceiling cascaded a weak source of light throughout the space. The chair and table were metal and cold.
Opposite you sat a man dressed in uniform. Narrowing your eyes and inspecting him further, you saw it was the same man you had come in contact with when you had signed up for this mysterious experiment.
“Papers for you to sign,” he uttered in a thick Russian accent. His face and tone were stoic.
He explained the contract in detail. And there was a particular phrase that stood out to you. That made no sense. The Asset. It was mentioned numerous times.
You knew what you had come here for. A sexual experiment of some sort. But nowhere in the contract did it say who you were conducting it with. There was no name. No details about any appearance or anything. Only that you would perform with someone or something named The Asset.
“He has no name.” The man spoke. “He is not a person. Do not try to humanize him. He is a tool. A weapon. Nothing more. But if you have to call him something, you may refer to him as Soldat. And do not worry. He cannot hurt you.”
“Why am I doing this? W-what’s the purpose?” You muttered while avoiding his emotionless gaze.
“We have to experiment and see if he is breakable. If someone can ever bend his will and programming with sexual torture.”
Your train of thoughts and flashbacks were cut short by the sound of fingers tapping on glass behind you and the roar of metal chains rattling in front of you.
“Please continue, miss,” the same thick Russian accent bellowed from behind.
“O-oh,” you exhaled as you came back to your senses. The coldness of the small room pierced your naked skin. The sounds of inaudible chatter in a foreign language and beeping of instruments flowed through your ears. And your eyes adjusted to what was in front of you.
Soldat.
He held all your attention now as you peered at him through your thick lashes. The surroundings were not relevant anymore. The people watching and observing were not relevant anymore—only him.
The beefy and nude man was held in chains. His arms restrained so that he couldn’t touch you. Couldn’t hurt you, for that matter.
His head hung low, peering down at you. His long hair cascaded down his face and stuck to his sweaty forehead, but you could still see some of his features. He held an intense expression. It was hard to decipher. His jaw clenched tightly, and his dark eyes were wild. Pain? Pleasure? Did he actually enjoy the sexual torture? It was hard to tell. He never spoke. Deep groans and grunts that rumbled in his throat were the only sounds to ever come out of him. The sounds gave you an impression that he may actually enjoy this vicious ordeal.
Although powerless, he looked powerful and rough from where you were positioned on your knees. Fuck, he was huge. All of him. God, he was hot. The sight in front of you was like a lewd porno.
You and he were covered in cum, sweat, and spit—a concoction of erotic slickness. Hot and disgusting at the same time. It made the acts you performed on him that much effortless.
You felt the heaviness of his cock in your grasp again as you returned to yourself. And once you tugged on it tighter, he roared loudly and clenched his body tight and hard. The muscles underneath his skin became deliciously defined. And the plates on his bionic arm whirled every time he flexed.
His red and angry cock twitched in pain and pleasure. Raw due to your repeated acts on him—handjob, blowjob, and having him nestled deep inside your pussy. Making him come again and again.
The thick and protruding veins along his shaft pulsed underneath your palms as you jerked him faster. Tighter. Sloppier.
“Fuck,” you mumbled as you took in the sight of his impressive cock, making your mouth water at the anticipation of having him on your tongue again.
With a needy moan, you took him in your mouth. Suckling his head as both your hands sloppily worked the rest of him. Swirling your tongue on his sensitive tip as your lips wrapped beautifully around him.
Soldat groaned as you sucked him to perfection—cum and spit dribbling out of your mouth and making a beautiful mess all over yourself and him.
His hands may be bound, but the rest of his body was boundless, and he bucked his hips into your mouth. The tip of his cock tickled the back of your throat. You coughed and struggled, and he rumbled deeply in response. Seeming satisfied with you choking.
When you couldn’t handle the abuse to your throat anymore, you release his cock with a pop. You spat the excess saliva onto his length and let the slickness coat the entirety of him.
As both your hands worked his entire cock again—base to tip, you took his heavy sack into your mouth—licking and sucking. Enjoying the weight of his balls on your tongue—moaning against him.
You peered up at him again with hooded eyes. He seemed to enjoy the dirty sight—your mouth and hands full of his cock and balls. A messy perfection kneeling before him.
A smirk tugged on his lips before he hissed sharply through his teeth as you pulled his sack harshly and then let it drop from your mouth.
He was close again. Nearing his fifth? Or was it maybe the sixth orgasm since you started? You had lost count.
The Russian officer was right. Soldat was no ordinary man. No one would have been able to withstand so many orgasms in such a short time. It was extraordinary to witness. Could he really keep climaxing till the end of times?
Soldat’s chest heaved as the torturous pleasure built. His thick thighs trembled, and his cock twitched, anticipating another earth-shattering and messy release.
He bellowed a cry through his gritted teeth as he came hard once again. The chains rattled as he tugged on them. He bucked his stuttering hips into your grasp as he spurted ropes and ropes of thick white cum from his red tip and made a mess all over himself and you. The sounds of pleasure and torture—grunts, groans, roars, and subtle whines, surfaced despite his clenched jaw.
You never stopped stroking him. Never stopped milking his poor and sensitive cock for all its seed. God, there was so much. You were in awe of him—eyes wide and mouth ajar. It was like a drug to you. Seeing the man above you come so intensely undone.
In the beginning, you had felt bad due to how wrong the situation actually was. But the more he came, the more you craved it. You needed it just as much as breathing.
“Good boy,” you mumbled as you gave a final tight tug on his cock. He hissed at the sensitivity and then exhaled as you released his twitching and aching cock from your hold.
For the first time, he looked finished. Exhausted as he dropped his head backward. His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly and tried to catch his breath. Had he reached his breaking point?
You gave him a break. He deserved that much by enduring this pleasurable torture. But the men in charge were impatient.
“Please don’t stop, miss. He is not allowed to rest.” The same accent uttered behind the glass.
Soldat’s eyes were on you now. Watching intensely as you got to your feet. You hissed as you stood upright. The uncomfortable and solid concrete floor bruised your knees and made your thighs stiff.
His abused cock twitched once you stood before him in all your nude form. His chains rattled again as he tried to reach forward to touch you. The plates on his bionic arm whirled. Did he want to hurt you? Punish you for torturing him? Or was there something else he wanted?
He stared intensely at you with his jaw clenched and eyes wild like an animal—examining your body like a predator would a prey. He groaned and licked his lips, hungry for more of what you had to offer. How much till he could bear no more?
When he saw you become nervous under his gaze, he bit his tongue and relaxed back into his seat.
“Please continue, miss,” the Russian man pressed you on. Becoming impatient with the waiting.
You trembled as you sat on top of Soldat—sore yourself from all the previous activities you had performed on him—hours of torturous pleasure. He let out a satisfied groan as you found your place on his lap.
You were so unbelievably close now. Your sweaty bodies pressed together, front to front. It was so hot, so erotic feeling his warm skin against yours. Feeling his delicious and defined muscles underneath your palms as you ran them down his broad torso.
His cock nestled against your dripping pussy. Yours and his juices mixed as you grinded on him, making him rock hard again.
With a breathless moan, you took his cock in your grasp again, loving the feel of him in your hand. Soldat sucked in a breath through his teeth as you pumped his bruised and slick length before you lined up his bulbous head with your entrance.
For the first time since you sat on him, you found his dark gaze as you lowered yourself onto his thick girth, thighs trembling. You winched at the pleasurable sting as he stretched out your velvet walls, inch by inch. It was so much to take in.
A deep groan sounded from his throat at the friction on his sensitive cock. His head fell back, eyes closed, and his teeth drew blood as he bit his bottom lip. His body clenched again at the sensual torture.
“Fuck, you’re huge,” you whined as his cock nestled balls deep inside your pussy.
His dark eyes found yours again. And although they were scary and wild, you couldn’t break from his intense stare. An animalistic groan rumbled in his chest, and his hands clenched in tight fists. His menacing aura compelled you to start riding him.
With your hands clasped at the back of his neck, steadying yourself, you started bouncing on his thick length. Slow, to begin with. Letting the ridges and veins of his cock caress delicately against your walls. Your jaw slacked as you enjoyed the teasing penetration.
But Soldat was impatient. He tried to push his body further into yours despite the constriction of his chains as he bellowed a deep roar. His hips bucked upwards brutally, forcing the entirety of him in you. You cried as his swollen head hit deep inside.
As he continued to snap his hips up into your aching pussy in quick motions, you met his movements with your own forceful ones. The sound of wet skin clapping, deep moans, groans, and soft whimpers drowned out the chatter and beeping of instruments behind.
Your sweaty bodies moved and danced effortlessly together—a seductive second act to the lewd porno.
Without thinking, you pressed your lips to his hard. Soldat took advantage of having his touch on you for the first time. He groaned as he moved his lips hurriedly against yours. Parting them to explore your mouth further.
The kiss was messy and needy—tongue and spit mixed together. Breathless moans and whimpers shared between you as your lips moved passionately—savouring the intoxicating taste.
As you pulled away, desperately needing a breath due to the exertion of your movements, he captured your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging on it as you pulled apart. He managed to nip your lip at the last second, puncturing through the skin and creating a little bleeding cut. He groaned while you moaned at the violent action. His animalistic and cruel nature was beyond hot.
It was hard to tell how long you had been fucking for—riding his cock brutally. It was all so intoxicating—the sounds, the touches, the tastes, the delicious penetration. It clouded all your senses. It made you aware of nothing but him—his massive body and cock.
You were approaching your first orgasm since you started this erotic experiment with The Asset. And with the way your body trembled and the firm tightness in your stomach begged to snap, you knew your release would wreck you—dissolving you into a messy state of whimpers and possibly a blackout.
You braced yourself by wrapping your arms around his neck—clinging desperately to him. Puncturing your nails into the skin of his back—leaving marks.
Soldat’s body tensed, anticipating another rocking release as he ground his teeth and roared like a caged animal. The chains rattled as he pulled on his restraints. His huge arms flexed, and his delicious muscles contorted beautifully, making him look even bigger.
You could see a hint of pain and discomfort in his features at having his cock tormented and overstimulated to the extreme. But another part of him, the darkest flicker in his eyes, couldn’t get enough of the torturous pleasure.
You leaned your forehead against his, which had his tenseness ease up to a degree. Yours and his parted lips brushed as you became so engrossed with the anticipation of your shared release.
“Fuck,” you whimpered as you grounded yourself deeper onto his pulsing cock that was nearing its release. And with a last few sharp thrusts of his hips into your quivering pussy, hitting your sweet spot repeatedly, you and he came hard—an explosion of noises and numbing pleasure rocked your bodies.
His cock twitched violently as he spurted his thick and warm cum into your awaiting womb, covering your fluttering walls with his seed. Making you feel full and satisfied. Yours and his hips stuttered and lost their rhythm as you tried to move against each other despite the soul-crushing and body-crippling sensation.
Your sounds of passion were muffled against his sweaty skin as you nuzzled your face into the crock of his neck. His ones roared so loudly in your ear—moans, groans, growls, making your whole body vibrate and convulse.
The pleasure seemed to last for an eternity as you savoured each erotic and sensual sensation with Soldat.
A wave of darkness shadowed over you as it became too much after a while. The pleasure too intense for your weak body to handle. Your movements started easing into a delicate dance as you used the last bit of strength to cling onto Soldat’s colossal frame.
Yours and his chest heaved in perfect rhythm as you stilled completely on him. His cock buried deep inside you still.
His warm body against yours was a comfort from the raging ache your own pulsed. His hot breath brushing your skin a soothing sensation.
How could a man that was claimed to be inhuman, dangerous, a weapon, feel so comfortable? Feel so right?
You hummed softly as you nuzzled further into him. Tired and drained from the hours of exertion that accumulated into a fiery ending.
The demands of the men in charge for you to continue were nothing but a muffled sound.
You felt yourself slip. Slip into darkness, tired and satiated, as the last thing your consciousness remembered was the soft lulling of the menacing man you were clinging onto.
Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!
Follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes dark fic#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes fanfiction#winter soldier#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier x y/n#winter soldier x you#winter soldier x female reader#winter soldier smut#winter soldier angst#winter soldier fanfiction#sebastian stan smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hiii can I request dad fyodor with a child reader who’s like 6-9 and like accidentally gets lost in a crowded area and then surprise surprise they get founded by dazai and while reader is sobbing and trying to talk to dazai and holding his hand fyodor spots this from afar and gets pissed
“Stick to my Side..♡” Fyodor Dostoevsky w/ Child!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚
Warnings; None
Description; Fyodor internally freaks out when he's unable to find his child, only to have them returned by an unlikely person
A/n; This is real cute, I switched it to sitting on Dazais shoulders from holding his hand because I forgot that the ask said that, so I'm sorry!!
Just as he was about to turn a corner, he was bumped into roughly by a larger man, causing his grip on you to loosen and cease to exist. You can barely hear the small 'oomph' that leaves his lips as the other man hardly apologizes, the hole ordeal pushing you back into the crowd. All the tall people around you make it hard to spot your dad causing your anxiety to heighten while you frantically look around for him. "Papa?" You nervously call out, peeking in between people and fidgeting with your fingers. Two older boys run push past you and knock you over. You let out a fearful huff as you make an attempt to stand. All these people seemed as tall as trees in the moment, instilling even more fear in your already shaken up heart.
ೃ⁀➷
The sun was beating down on your skin, making Fyodor thankful that he had applied sunscreen on you thoroughly prior to leaving the house. Your hand was in his as he walked through the crowded city, navigating the streets that would take him to a small ice cream stand. You were excited to spend time with your papa, especially since he was working so often; it made these moments all the more special. He would caringly look back at you in order to make sure you were still following while you both weaved through all the people.
Your head swiveled from side to side in search of the Russian man, but your eyes only landed on complete strangers. You couldn't even tell your original direction anymore with so many people going both ways past you. You started unknowingly walking away from where you had been separated from your father, crying out for him. "Papa?" You yelled, your lip quivering with horror; terrified of never seeing your papa ever again. You walked and cried for a full three minutes before clinging onto a random passerbys pant leg. The man instantly stopped moving and looked down at you with wide eyes. "I must be pretty popular with parentless kids, huh?" He says with a raised eyebrow. "Are you lost?" His eyes scan you over for any injuries. "I-i can't find my-my papa!" You say while tears cloud your vision and continuously fall down your warm cheeks.
He frowns before he lifts you up, holding you under your arms as if you were a cat. "Here, get on my shoulders and we'll look for him, yeah?" He says with a comforting smile. "O-okay" You stutter out, grabbing onto the man by his hair while you sit on his shoulders. You desperately look around for your father, having an even harder time because due to the hot weather he hadn't worn his familiar Ushanka. "What does he look like? I can help search if you give me some details." Dazai says while you unintentionally tug roughly at his hair, making him wince. "H-he has black hair and- and today he is wearing a white and purple button down shirt with white pants." You cry, still browsing through the crowds. Dazai raises an eyebrow before stopping his movement completely. He hears Fyodors recognizable voice yelling out for you, calling your name. It's not very long before Fyodor is yelling his, too.
He quickly walks past the people and towards Dazai and you, anger and relief mixed in his expression. He couldn't believe no one else had helped you before Dazai, and that thought only angered him more. He swiftly reached up and snatched you off of Dazais shoulders, holding you instead. "Don't touch my kid." He angrily mutters, setting you down and kneeling in front of you, brushing off any dust from your falls and checking on you. "Are you alright, sweetie? He didn't hurt you, right?" He asks while glaring at Dazai over your shoulder. Dazai defensively throws up his hands. "I would never hurt a lost child." He claims, matching the shake of your head you gave your papa. He sighs and swallows the lingering lump in his throat as he rises to his feet with a hand on your shoulder. "Good. If you did I would kill you." He mouths the last two words. Dazai chuckles quietly. "I wouldnt. How about we talk payment instead?" Fyodor raises an eyebrow, his facial expression confused by Dazais audacity. "I'm not paying you for human decency."
Dazai shrugs and sticks his hands in his front pant pockets. "Whatever you say, demon Fyodor." He says, an underlying tone of of teasing present in his voice as he speaks the nickname. Fyodor rolls his eyes and shoos Dazai off with his hand as he turns around with you, holding your hand tighter this time as to not lose you. "I'm so sorry, Malysh, I didn't mean to lose track of you when that man bumped into us." He says with remorse and continuing with you towards the original location of the ice cream place. You huff, still rather annoyed that he could just forget you like that, but you accepted his apology. "S'okay, papa." You murmur. He smiles and pats your head. "Alright, good. Let's go get this ice cream, yeah?" Your frown turns upside and a little more pep finds its way to your step as you practically drag him along to the ice cream parlor. "Alright, and don't lose me this time!"
A/n; dad Fyodor has me whipped im
#bungo stray dogs#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bungō stray dogs#bsd headcanons#bsd x reader#bsd fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#bsd fyodor#fyodor x reader#bungo stray dogs fyodor#fyodor bsd#bungou stray dogs fyodor#fyodor dostoevsky#fyodor dostoyevsky bsd#fyodor#fyodor dostoyevsky x reader#bsd fyodor dostoevsky#bsd dostoevsky#dostoevksy#dad!fyodor#child!reader#familial#bsd dazai osamu#dazai bungou stray dogs#dazai#bsd dazai#bsd x gn reader#gn!reader
301 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
lovingful
Untitled
berkleypub
Berkley Publishing Group
ioamolitaliano
Impariamo L'italiano!
eichika
good vibrations
tinngun
now @nanons