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romanoffsbish · 1 year ago

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Kissing Booth

Natasha Romanoff x F!R (College AU)

Tired of your girlfriends on and off kind of love, you set off to see just how invested she is in keeping you | WC: 2,848

Warnings: Toxic-Ish themes | Jealous Nat | Blood

Smut: Public | Jean-Riding (R) | Oral (R) | Degradation (Slut)

18+ | Minors DNI

"Y/N Y/L/N's pledge to the campuses first ever, Mental Wellness Festival is: a one woman booth meant to stimulate your joy receptors; a smooch of serotonin. Fellas, swing on by and steal a kiss, from the palm of my hand, and enjoy your sweet treat. Ladies and They's lean in closer love, if you set the right price, you can take the grand prize—a kiss of your choosing; my lips taste like artificial cherry and melted chocolate if that's of any interest to you. All proceeds go to a fund set in place to create better avenues for those suffering to cope with their hefty course loads as they manage heavy thoughts too." Natasha read the words over and over again in her traumatized mind until her pure feelings came to a boil as she huffed and ripped the paper off of the wall of every place she'd found it.

———

It didn't matter though. Because even though she took them down within the same hour they'd gone up, when she stepped onto the quad lit up by stadium lights she saw that your booths line had wrapped around the diamond twice in the five minutes that it was open.

Her fists clenched briefly as she saw Wanda and Carol, her sorority sisters, eagerly stood in line. Then she shook her head with a near manic laugh. The redhead truly felt bad for the other people here who thought that you'd actually kiss them on their mouths. Foolish to even dream of it really, because you knew better than to let them taint your sweet lips with their lust.

Theirs was carnal; vile another way to express that they wouldn't care for you like she would. Hers was soul crushing, but in the euphoric sense, because you knew no matter what happened between you two, that you were never alone. Natasha might be away, or distant, but she'd never leave you to become another's prey.

Far too perfect for her to lose to her traitorous sisters. They'd be dealt with later, but right now, your (ex) girlfriend had to focus on creeping in the shadows. Watching to see just how far you'd push her buttons.

All Natasha needed was your patience for a month, not even the full thirty days honestly. It was only meant to be a break so that she could focus on her studies, the way her A+'s, and full marks had dropped to A-'s had scared her into thinking that space would help fix it.

It didn't, but she pretended it did because she could not psych herself out of sticking to her desired path. You clearly lacked the patience and respect only your mommy could teach you. The exams are literally next week, you've been so good up until this final stretch. Not bothering her with physical ambushes, or even texting her, which she actually scolded you for, to which you re-shared your location with her just to limit the contact you'd have to make with her through text.

That hurt her feelings a bit, but she refused to wallow in the mess that she'd made. Your feelings were hurt first, and the aftermath treated hers no kinder, and lord knows this wasn't the first time she's done this.

That was in high school, junior year, and you were distraught by the decision. Then Summer came with apologies, and forgiveness. Now, in your fourth and final year of undergrad, you're just used to it. For some reason she just kept getting away with it unscathed...

Until now at least.

The woman you craved watched you with dilated eyes that caught everything. She's only hiding to see who you flirt with, genuinely, and consequently putting them on her list of people whose life she must now ruin in relation to you. Her mind raced when you let an older woman peck your cheek, she had only given you $500, and yet you let the corners of your lips brush.

Natasha growled in place of a whimper, she couldn't get the infuriating image out of her mind, her eyes burned with frustration as she pictured you and the football captain's girlfriend leaving the field together.

The redhead wouldn't let that happen. Darcy Lewis, the gifted scientist, and lover to a Mr. Sam Wilson, would leave here sooner in a body bag than with you.

Natasha pictured shoving the overzealous woman off of a cliff, then she'd return so she could approach you as she dug in her deep crossbody fanny pack, to then slam her wad of cash into the full jar, pull you up into a bruising kiss, and lift the bowl as she kicked the table over, helping flip to the red closed sign for good.

It was $4,000 in hard cash, money she'd just pulled out this morning to get a cashiers check for rent and to pay her other bills; Natasha was pissed, you sure felt that in the way that she harshly nibbled on your lips, cracking open the silky smooth skin; bright red blood smeared your coffee stained teeth. Everyone's whispers of fury and shock were drowned out as your heart pounded wildly in your chest. Natasha hungrily sought out this elevated moment where she took a chance and recklessly guided your body around the corner until she could slam you up against a random concrete wall.

.... It paid off.

"Oh fuck," you huffed as your exposed upper back brushed against prickly vines, the crisp chill in the air instantly solidifying your blood against your skin. You could hardly care about the pain though as Natasha's thigh brushed against the bare cunt you'd sported beneath your skirt the entire night. That shiny metal chair was dripping with your essence as you saw your soulmate (ex-girlfriend) watching you with fury.

You were drenched, painfully needy, and screaming: "Natasha please—god I'm so fucking wet right now!"

"I know you are slut," she growled as her sharp canines grazed over the throbbing veins of your jugular. "I can feel your sticky mess through my jeans." You mewled at the rough press of your slick cunt to her pants, it had you seeing staticky stars. If she kept up a steady pace you were certain to be discovering galaxies. "Mmm, I need to cum mommy, need to cum so bad, please!"

"Yeah?" She scoffed, and you nodded frantically. "Well I need my money back, but instead I've donated it to do with these lips as I please so how about you shut it."

You didn't heed her warning, "Please, I'm sorry..."

"So fucking greedy," she growled, the glare she held as she pulled away from your neck sparked a thrill of fear to run straight to your core, your pretty eyes plead for reprieve, and naturally, the redhead gave in. "Go ahead slut, but make sure to let them hear you." Natasha's arms flexed as she expertly guided your core against the rough material of her jeans, and so you moaned out into the world her outwardly embarrassing title, letting everyone know they never stood a chance, it was a beautiful symphony to your on and off again lover that ended on a high note when she heard a familiar gush.

While you heavily panted, desperately breathing in the crisp night air that chilled your lungs into a hitch, she reveled in how the delicate rumble felt against her lips that were spread against the thin skin of your throat. Her tongue darted out, licking up the salty layer atop of your tacky skin, her teeth brushed back down, going the opposite way her tongue just had. The redheads goal of an endgame was etched into your exposed skin.

Your collarbones now decorated with her marks; ones that spoke of jealousy, and paired with a fragile love. You whimpered softly, the way her wet lips suckled on the already marked skin of your thudding pulse point bled off into the more painful side of things. Her wet tongue slid over the same spot in apology, then her lips founds yours after she kissed up the side of your neck.

Natasha's lips pressed against yours much softer than before, but you could tell she was frustrated with you. Which was fair, and matched as you stewed yourself, a part of you did feel guilty, but mostly, you felt broken.

But you weren't about to cry, no, you'd rather get mad.

It was what the naive asshole had earned. Natasha was great, a caring girlfriend who looked to you to smother with all of her love, the last six years together were a dream come true. A dream that faded into a nightmare whenever she becomes stressed, becoming someone you hardly recognize. She'd become dismissive, cold and quick to call for a blip; a break in your sacred union. Each time she said the same thing, "Just a bit of space is all I need, we'll be okay, mommy promises."

It was what she needed—never you, but she made it seem as if you'd happily agreed to her conditional love. As if letting you feel like her life could only improve if you were to leave it was something you took positively.

You were young, and carefree but not dumb enough to not know this wasn't healthy and maybe for your own petty thrill, you wanted to test her very limits. To see if she might just see what she risks losing, but you feel like all she got from this was more frustration. It only took a moment for her to huff that angrily against your chapped lips. "All I asked of you was for time Y/N."

You leaned your head back and pouted, eyes soft like a wounded puppy's. "We're better together Tasha."

Natasha sighed, "I know detka," she conceded with ease, her guilty face falling into the crook of your neck as she took in a calming breath. "I've been miserable without you honey, but we had to know that this could work. I'm going to have to travel for work, and I don't want to have to worry about you entertaining others."

"I'd never cheat," you hissed, "You asked for a break, that means we're no longer in a relationship Natasha."

"That's not what I meant and you know it Y/N," her nails dug into your sides. "Never have we ever ran a kissing booth during one, now stop being so difficult."

"I'm not being difficult Natasha, I'm doing charity work, and having a bit of fun as I do it." You shrugged and she frowned. "So breaking my heart is fun?"

You sighed softly, unwilling to unpack the hypocrisy of her words, "The only way this works out is if only your body leaves me in those times, but if you're saying random bouts of silence is the final answer th—." Nat cut you off, "You stopped texting Y/N, not me."

"Yeah, because you just wanted a 'good morning' and 'night' or an 'I'm home' after my classes got out, and you'd simply like it. Not even a 'morning love' or a 'glad you made it home safe' or an 'I love you.' in response."

"I needed to focus on school," she tried to defend, it was a pathetic excuse, and you both knew it. "Then you can do that Natasha, but I won't be waiting for you anymore, these breaks in affection are killing me."

"What? I-." You pressed your hands to her shoulders and attempted to push her away but she fiercely stood her ground. "What are you saying Y/N? Because I—."

"Need to let me go," you tiredly replied, "If I, um, if our relationship is too much of a problem for you on your journey to success then it's best we end this now."

Natasha's heart froze in her chest, the idea made her ill. "No!" Natasha fell to her knees, lips brushing over your abdomen before her hands lifted your skirt, and then her nose was nudging the wet skin of your thigh beside your cunt. "I'll do better honey, I swear to it." Her lips trembled, "No more breaks," her voice cracked and your heart sank. Your hands fell to the outline of her head that was buried beneath your skirt, her erratic breaths fanned across the sticky mess between your thighs and your body shivered. "Natasha, get up."

You felt the godly crafted curve of her nose nudge your clit as she shook her head, your mind was reeling with desperation, the same as her words. "I'm insane Y/N, clearly, because my reckless hypocrisy nearly lost me you, but I'm not so crazy that I'd actually let you go."

"Nat..." your muttering of her name cut off in a shaky breath as you felt her shake her head again, the thin twigs snapped as you threw your head back. "No," she murmured against the slick curve of your labia, a wet kiss made your hip jolt off the wall and slip more of her face between your folds. "You are my home Y/N."

Your heart stuttered as you heard her sniffle, her warm tears cascaded over the slick of your thighs and soaked into the cracks of your kneecaps. Hurting her wasn't something you relished in, but it was also necessary.

You knew that up until now things had been toxic, but you also knew your threat of dissolution wouldn't be dismissed. Natasha wouldn't let you go, she'd fell for you way back in middle school, she had the diary's in a locked drawer outlining your future together, the stars were aligned well before you knew, and they officially clicked when she made her move sophomore year.

After puberty gave her a much needed confidence boost she'd asked you out, using homecoming as an excuse, and you didn't hesitate to say yes. She kissed you after walking you home, her mind shifted when her lips pressed into yours, giving her a taste, and from that moment forward she has held on possessively.

Which is why you knew the moment your flyers went up that she would be all over you. A minute part of you lived for these raw moments where the insecurities her distance had created are edged out of your wary mind. Natasha wasn't a fan of breaking your heart either, but with who her parents are you can show her some grace, her expression was clearly a byproduct of their neglect.

Especially when she worked your body so perfectly. "Mmm, fuck," you gasped abruptly, mind exceptionally fuzzy as her despair had turned into the sloppiest head you'd ever received in your life. The noises were lewd, not even the school's festival could drown her out the more her tongue lavished away at your oozing cunt.

Natasha forgot what it was like to breathe for a long moment, her nose and mouth too busy working together to keep your mind fuzzy from pleasure. It was also her way of relishing the time she spent with your intimacy, fear clawing at her heart that this could be it.

The final time she was able to make you cry out her name, to make you feel this good, to love you as she always should. Her mind ran wild with the thought that you might've been scoping out your next lover tonight—could Wanda or Carol be better suited for you? No! She shook her head again and you came, crying out for her—you needed her, and her alone.

Natasha's nails dug into your ass, spreading your cheeks so that she could delve even further into your core with her tongue. Intent solely on drinking you dry, not that she ever really could, no matter how much she lapped away you never failed to become wet again. It was a vicious cycle that she endured with glee.

Your essence was something she always savored, but in this exact moment she found herself rushing to clean it up, her body now plagued with a persistent urge to cry.

Tears and slick intermixed on your thighs, creating their own slippery consistency that led to the redhead falling further into you as she tried to push herself up. You chuckled slightly before reaching a hand down to help her to her feet, the humor dying as soon as her face was leveled with yours. It was hard to feel joy when the love of your life looked so damn despaired.

"Oh Tasha," you coo'd, hands gentle as they cupped her wet cheeks. "Please, don't leave me detka," she sobbed, her slick hands laid over yours, attempting to keep the comfort of your touch on her, even if it was forced. Fortunately, your intent was only to bring her closer as you pulled her face forward and into a sloppy kiss. The way she whimpered at the affection solidified your choice to stay and fight for the love you knew existed.

"Take me home baby, these lips are yours to keep."

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ldysmfrst · 8 months ago

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American Mate - (3)

Following Instincts

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 3 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 4,279

Work count for Story: 12,632

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does have Injury, Anxiety, Panic attacks, comfort, and Cultural differences.

BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit

AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

Outside the break room, Yoongi is in Alpha space, catching your scent of sweet peas as it changes into a moldy pea soup smell after the comment from the redheaded playmate. Turning with a low and threatening growl, Yoongi’s eyes have gone to his hybrid's bright golden-yellow cat eyes as he blocks you from their sight. Zeroing in on the playmates, tail raised and puffed out, tip twitching back and forth with a snap of irritation, making them all step back and quiet down.

Hearing you murmur something in his native tongue and then the frantic footsteps, Yoongi snaps his head to watch your fleeing form disappear into a room down the hall. Taking a quick look back at the playmates, office staff, and then his pack, Yoongi huffs and quickly follows you, unable to fight his Alpha instincts.

The rest of the BTS packmates follow their bonded one closely behind as they feel his need to protect you from the others in the office. Namjoon catches Yoongi by the shoulder, stopping him from attempting to enter the room where you sought refuge. The rest of the pack forms a barricade around their Prime Alpha and packmate, who has entered Alpha space. They all are standing on guard, facing the rest of the people in the office, watching closely for any danger, and keeping the rude humans away.

“Yoongi-hyung, you need to give her space. Remember, she is human and might get scared of Alpha Yoon. What is happening? I need you to get enough control to explain what is happening?” Namjoon calmly speaks to his older packmate. Pushing out calming scents, trying to bring him out of his Alpha space with soothing strokes along his shoulder and back. “Can you come back and explain why you are protecting Miss Y/n?”

Barreling into the front of the group of observers with his tail bushed out and scent smelling slightly panicked and concerned, Derek comes up to the defensive line of BTS, “You have to let me get to her. You have to let me help calm down Y/n. Can’t you scent her distress? She is not doing okay by herself. You can even smell her over the scent-blockers! I am the closest thing she has to a family. Please let me in to make sure she is okay. Please.”

One of Yoongi’s black jaguar ears twitch back, hearing the urgency in Derek’s voice. He looks at Namjoon, takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes. After a few seconds, he turns to Derek with normal dark eyes, taking in his shifty behaviors and now partly distressed scent.

Shaking his head slowly to Namjoon, Yoongi steps between his packmates and face-to-face Derek. “You are the closest thing to her family?”

“Yes, she and I were hired together when they decided to start this branch. We work together and spend time together at my den or her apartment. I do my best to protect her from situations like this because of her past,” Derek shares with a furrowed brow. Then he glares at the snobby-faced Playmates and says, “I normally try to keep her away from the Playmates in general so things like this do not happen.”

“She is only here today because there was no convincing her otherwise. Since in the meeting yesterday with your manager and what was said on the phone, she thought it would be disrespectful if she were not in attendance,” explains the fidgety hybrid.

Looking Yoongi in the eye, he continues, “She was bullied a lot before, and while it is not something that is okay, unfortunately, it still happens to this day. I really tried but I couldn’t do anything to keep her away. She had to be here even with little to no sleep because of her nightmares.”

Bowing slightly but keeping an eye on the pack, Derek demandingly pleads, “Now, please, Mr. Min, please let me pass. Everyone can smell that something has happened. I think she is hurt in more ways than one.”

The last comment got the attention of the whole pack on him, and everyone looked concerned. Several eyes flashed as their hybrid halves showed their displeasure with the news. Yoongi continued to fight his Alpha instincts with a deep growl and even breaths.

“How can you tell?” Namjoon asks from next to the door. He can smell the scent left in as you ran through the hall, but it tells him nothing for a few reasons: 1. He has never smelt Y/n and 2. Not all scents are pleasant to start with.

“That moldy smell, like veggies gone bad?” inquired Derek, watching the pack of hybrids start sniffing, searching for the smell, and scrunching their noses once it hits. “That is why I know something is not right. Y/n, her scent turns like that when she is hurt. I am not sure if it is just emotional. It could be physical, too. I can’t tell how bad it is because the scent-blocking measures she took for your arrival are still dulling it down. Now again. Let me in to help my friend. I may be a Beta but she is a pack member and I will protect her.”

“Fine, but I am going in with you. I was the one who knocked into her and failed to keep her from falling. My Alpha instincts have gone haywire, and I need to protect her,” his eyes glaring back at the playmates, “from certain people here. Most of all, ensuring she is okay and make amends for my mistake,” Yoongi states without room for argument, moving to the side, nodding to his packmates to make room for them.

Once the two are through, the pack retakes their defensive stance, keeping everyone else out. They understand where their mate is coming from as they also want to keep the group of Playmates away from you, their disgusting words looping through their heads.

Namjoon shuts the door for privacy and protection while he stands guard just outside, with one ear listening to what is happening inside the room and one ear on the rest of the office. His mind racing from the powerful wave of rotten scent that has built up in the room.

The scent-blocking measures no longer mask your distress and pain causing your scent is much more robust in this room. This makes Derek and Yoongi to whine at the smell and quickly move to your side.

Derek pulled you into a tight embrace, pushing his scent out and over you and scenting the top of your head while murmuring soft, reassuring words. Yoongi comforts you with his own calming scents, pushing down the desire to pry you out of Derek’s hold to take you into his own. Much to their relief, your tears slow, and your breathing calms after what feels like hours.

“Derek, my nightmares, they came true. I ruined everything. I should have stayed away like you and Evie said. I should have been looking where I was going. Reina was right. The one with the black tail, did I hurt him? He... He tried catching me. Me! I weigh a ton,” you ramble as your panic is still racing in your mind.

At that last comment, a deep growl resounds throughout the room. It takes half a second to realize it is not from the hybrid holding you. Catching your breath and snapping your mouth shut, you cautiously peek through your hair to look behind you to see none other than Mr. Min Yoongi, who turns out to be the owner of said black tail, now snapping to and fro with irritation.

“Shit,” you mumble under your breath, your mind racing to figure out a way to get out of this situation without causing any further damage and how best to word your resignation letter.

“Miss Y/n, let us address a few things. Firstly, you do NOT weigh a ton, nor will you ever refer to yourself in that manner again. Secondly, I am not injured, nor could you injure me, as I AM an Alpha in my own right and am stronger than I look, even if I am not the Prime Alpha of the Bangtan Pack,” declares the hybrid, his eyes flashing a different color.

You shrink down to try to make yourself smaller. Seeing your reaction and realizing that his Alpha is trying to be in control again, he takes another deep breath to calm himself, looking between you and Derek. He can almost hear his Alpha stomp around his head, demanding to get you out of the other hybrid’s arms and keep you as his.

After a few controlled breaths, Yoongi says, “Lastly, would you be so kind as to allow my Alpha to inspect you for injuries? I came out of the observation room door unannounced and ran into you. I tried to prevent you from falling, but we are close in height, and I could not do much other than take what I hoped was the brunt of the fall.”

Turning more towards him but still staying in the safety of Derek’s hold, you look at him with confusion. “Your Alpha? Like your hybrid-side is not yourself?” Looking over your shoulder at Derek, you see him with a smirk and a chuckle on his lips.

“Missy here,” Derek looks at Yoongi, “has never met an Alpha male before. I am a beta, and her best friend is an omega.” Turning his attention back to you, “Unlike Evie and I, an Alpha has an inner animal that they can change into fully at will and it allows them to go into Alpha space to assist in protecting, hunting, and mating.”

You look at Yoongi with wide eyes, “You turn into a black cat?”

“I am not a black cat,” he huffs in annoyance, eyes flashing a different color briefly. “I am a Black Jaguar hybrid, and I am trying my best to keep him at bay because he can sense that your emotions have calmed down, but you are still in pain.”

His eyes roam over your figure, stopping when he notices you are cradling your right wrist. Standing up and motioning to a nearby chair, he asks, “Please, can I inspect you for injuries? I can see you are being careful with your right hand.”

With a gentle push from behind you, you move to the chair Yoongi gestured to. Derek also stands up but keeps his distance, watching how the two of you interact.

Yoongi kneels before you, “I have to let my Alpha see for himself. I promise he will not harm you. Mr. Gulley can attest to that at this point, my Alpha would have much rather hurt himself than you.”

Glancing at Derek, he nods with a knowing smile while taking a seat a few tables over, so as not to interfere. Taking a moment to collect yourself, running your good hand through your hair and fixing your shirt, you look down at the hybrid.

With a slight smirk, he looks at you with kind eyes, “Miss Y/n, please allow me to check for injuries. You have no reason to be nervous. You look perfect as you are.”

Blushing slightly at his words, you nod and tuck your hair behind your ear again. You watch him closely as his dark brown eyes slowly change into a stunning golden-yellow color, with the pupil elongating into a pointed oval. His ears and tail moved this way and that, never quite settling in one position for very long. Your scent turns slightly back to sweet peas as the sight makes you smile softly.

Cautiously, Yoongi kneels closer to you to become within reaching distance. Taking your left ankle gently in his hand, he rotates it, bends your leg at the knee, and sniffs at each joint. He repeats the process with the other side as well. Finding that nothing in your legs seems to be hurting, he looks at your face again with a short, pleased chirping sound.

Scooting a little closer, he reaches out to your left hand, bends your elbow, feels along your fingers one by one, then rotates your wrist and again seems to sniff along the joints.

You fidget in your seat, knowing what comes next will hurt, but you don't know how the hybrid in front of you will react. Noticing your movements and the slight change in your scent, Yoongi wraps his tail around your ankle to offer support. A slight sense of pride fills him when your scent calms down at his gesture of comfort, even if you do not realize it.

Taking your right hand, he follows the same steps, pausing slightly before he rotates your wrist. You let out a yelp of pain and bite your bottom lip as you try to pull your hand out of his grip, which only causes him to hold it just a little bit tighter with one hand while the other quickly reaches to the nape of your neck to bring you into an awkward hug. Your head is now resting on his shoulder with your nose breathing against his neck, your good hand going to his side and gripping his shirt.

Once the pain has dulled, you realize you smell the rain, not like fresh rain but like petrichor or the earth after a good downpour. It is comforting and relaxes you even more until you hear a soft chuffing noise and remember who you are smelling.

Pulling away, you shyly look back at Yoongi, still observing you with golden-yellow eyes and holding your wrist firm but gently. “Umm... I think I just landed on it wrong. Just some ice and pain meds should be okay. I will be good as new tomorrow,” you say with a false smile, trying to play it off as no big deal.

However, Yoongi’s ears flatten, and his feline eyes narrow at you while nodding down to your wrist. Following his line of sight, you now see that your wrist is slightly swollen and is covered with a lovely purple color. “Okay, maybe I won’t be as good as new tomorrow.”

Derek stands up and approaches the two of you to see the damage done. Taking a sharp breath, he looked at Yoongi and froze, noting that the Alpha was sternly watching his every move.

Outside the breakroom, Mr. Johnson, the director of PMS USA, was informed there was an incident and is now standing with Manager Sejin outside the BTS barrier. He had ordered Reina and the other playmates to be escorted back into the conference room by some other staff.

To say the Playmates didn’t attempt to excuse away their behaviors or tell a specialized version of the story would be lying, and BTS’s reaction quickly caused them to shut up and hide in the room like they were told to in the beginning.

Mr. Johnson had hand-picked you to be the friendly first face of PMS because you light up any room you walk into and are always willing to put in the extra time to help make things perfect on or off the clock.

“Hello, I am the director, I really should go in there and make sure my employee is okay, Manager Sejin,” Mr. Johnson states, glancing at the members of BTS as they continue to block the door and growl at anyone who walks near them.

“Why are they not letting anyone near the door? I am sorry. I know about hybrids from the symposiums and conferences but rarely interact with many. I typically leave that up to my staff,” says the director, glancing over at the hamster hybrid.

“Namjoon-ssi, do you want me to answer that, or would you like to?” Manager Sejin asks while watching Mr. Johnson. Namjoon redirects his attention from the breakroom door to the seemingly incompetent human before him.

Taking a few slow steps forward, Hoseok takes over guarding the entrance. Namjoon comes to stand with his pack, but nearer to Mr. Johnson and Manager Sejin, he says, “Mr. Johnson, we are a pack. More so, we are a pack of Alpha hybrids. Ranging from prey to predator types. We are a bonded pack on top of that, which means it’s all or none. We all are protective of something or someone if one of us feels the need. When one of us is hurt, we are all hurting with them.”

Looking at each of his packmates, Namjoon is filled with a sense of pride. Though they don’t know the extent of what has happened, they still support their mate to the best of their ability in a foreign country without question.

“Yoongi-hyung is feeling protective of Miss Y/n because of a few things. Miss Y/n is injured because of an accident caused by hyung. She is not in a good emotional state because of your Playmates’ behavior due to the same accident,” the Prime Alpha says as he looks back at the Director, trying to maintain a more neutral expression to hide his disdain for the women now in some office somewhere.

“As an Alpha, our animals require us to hold ourselves to a higher standard than other hybrids or humans. We like to try and ensure those around us are happy. With a very select few, we want to make sure they are also healthy and protected, among other things. In Yoongi’s Alpha space, he has failed to meet these standards when it comes to Miss Y/n. It is now beyond his control, so to speak, to do anything other than fix his mistakes and ensure Miss Y/n’s safety, recovery, and happiness. This means the Bangtan Pack is now responsible for the same.”

“Oh well. Um. I see. I can reassure you that Playmate Services has a good doctor who can tend to her if she needs one, and of course, she can have the rest of today and even tomorrow off. No need to make a fuss,” says the director, trying to dispel the sense of doom he is feeling due to the power emanating from the six remaining Alphas.

A deep growl rips from behind Namjoon, causing everyone to look and see that Taehyung's eyes are flickering crystal blue. His scent of burning ebony wood crashed over the pack.

Speaking through gritted teeth, he glares at the director, saying, “You seem to be in over your head, Mr. Johnson. Your company is built for hybrids, and you have hybrids working for you, yet you know nothing. Your incompetence is allowing bullying. From what one of your staff says, it has been happening for quite some time and yet you do nothing about it. Did you not hear our Prime Alpha tell you that she is ours now. We will take her to get treated by our medical professionals. We will take care of her to ensure she heals properly and regains a better state of mind. Not. You.”

“Hyung, it’s okay. Calm down, please. We don’t need two of you in Alpha space right now. It will not help Miss Y/n or Yoongi-hyung,” Jungkook says as he steps up next to Taehyung, scenting his neck gently as his snickerdoodle scent pushes out, causing the blue to flicker to stop and remain his natural dark brown.

With a last glare and a mumbled, “Pathetic, oblivious, 리더십이 부족한 사람, human.” He moves closer to Hoseok and, in turn, you. Jungkook quickly follows in an attempt to keep the high-tempered White Southwest African Tiger calm and get closer to you as well.

“You may have misunderstood me, gentlemen. I have tried to deal with the playmates and their disrespectful actions towards Y/n and some of the other staff. Sadly, Reina is the top female pick and brings in a lot of money. Since we are the newest and smallest branch, the corporate office wants to refrain from taking any disciplinary actions for fear that she will quit. They think that any of the office staff are replaceable, whereas reliable Playmates are harder to find,” Mr. Johnson explains.

“Mr. Johnson, while that may be the case prior to today, their bullying has gone too far. Manager Sejin,” Namjoon says, “I believe it would be wise if the director took care of the bullying by the playmates and joined them for the time being. We need a few moments without interruptions to assess what is happening and how the Pack will move forward with this office, if at all.”

Dismissing the director to be dealt with by Manager Sejin, Namjoon walks back to the door, which is now being guarded by Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jungkook. The scent of snickerdoodle, ebony wood, and lilac mix together with the pack scent of vanilla underneath.

“... can’t tell?”

“Can’t tell what?” Namjoon asks the small group.

“Hobi-hyung can’t tell,” replies Jungkook while Taehyung nods in agreement.

“The boys say that their Alphas are reacting to Miss Y/n but I can’t tell if mine does or not. You spoke to her, stood right in front of her. Namjoon, can you tell?” questions Hoseok with his arms crossed and hip cocked to the side.

“Oh? Hmm, I guess I haven’t really paid attention. After what happened with… you know who… I guess I have been pushing my Alpha to the back as much as I could. I have been focusing on taking care of you guys, my mates, first and I couldn’t do that with him pacing in my head so much. She really tore Yoongi-hyung, Jimin-ah, and well you, Hobi, apart inside with what she said,” reflects the Prime Alpha.

Namjoon started thinking back to hearing your voice, full of determination and strength, over the phone yesterday. Your care, intention, and respect for the pack that you have shown today. It would be simple to say that his Alpha was at least comfortable around you, and from how the pack’s scents have been, he wasn’t the only one who was.

“My Alpha is comfortable with Miss y/n, but I wouldn’t say that he is reacting in any particular way.”

A soft whine leaves Jungkook before he says, “Why do the older mates always walk with blinders on? Huh! You need to really let your Alpha look at her. My Alpha hasn’t wanted to look away from her since we walked into the office.”

“Joon-hyung, I am with Kookie on this one,” Taehyung nods, still in the bunny hybrid's hold. “While I wasn’t drawn in right away, I trust Yoongi's Alpha not to react this way with just anyone. So, when he ran after her, I was the closest one to the door, and before the pack’s scent took over, I could smell vanilla with something rotten. At first, I thought it was a candle or something, but I looked around. There are no candles.”

Taehyung’s comment on smelling vanilla caught Jimin and Seokjin's attention. Turning to join the conversation while trying to maintain the barrier, Jimin speaks up, “So it wasn’t just me. When Yoongi-hyung and that man went in, I smelled vanilla with almost a compost-like smell. After that, my Alpha wanted nothing but to keep everyone, human or hybrid, away from this door. He is really fighting to be at the front.”

“I figured that our muscle bunny was just leaning into his instincts of being a bunny when he was speaking about Miss Y/n in the conference room. Yet it didn’t explain to me why my Alpha felt awkward at her bowing to me when I spoke to her before going into the room,” adds Seokjin with a stern but thoughtful look.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Hoseok moves away from the door slightly, his expression confused and frustrated. “Are you telling me that you have all had some kind of reaction from your Alphas for the human lady behind the door? Some of you smelled vanilla, too?”

Nodding, they all look at Hoseok and then at Namjoon, waiting for them to come to the same conclusion. After a few tense moments passed, it was like a lightbulb went off over Hoseok’s head as his lilac scent burst with more hints of rose and vanilla.

Everyone now focuses on Namjoon.

Namjoon’s head is racing over every moment that has happened since walking in the door. As Prime Alpha, his responsibilities for the pack are more significant than others, and with what the boys are hinting at, the next few moments will change so much.

“Her reactions were top-notch with our pack, and her showing an exceeding amount of respect to the packmates could be just her professionalism,” he thinks aloud, trying to find a non-life-changing reason for the situation only to be met with more whines and a few soft growls.

Looking up, Namjoon makes eye contact with each of his mates before continuing, “However, only the vanilla scent can mean one thing which won’t be easy for the human woman.”

Taking a deep breath, the pack turned their attention to the door.

“We have an American Mate.”

Previous / Next

Taglist - CLOSED

@braveangel777 @bethanysnow @smileykiddie08 @kayways @danielle143 @nenefix-on @im-gemmy @fluffy-canada-pancakes @juju-227592 @levislifeline @carolinexkpop

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sunshinemarauder · 4 months ago

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Announcing... JILY WEEK 2024!

For the past two years, the lovely @thegobletofweasleys ran Jily Week. This year, she decided to step back from hosting it and passed it on to Kelsey ( @kay-elle-cee ) and me, who are so excited to share the Jily love with all of you! Jot it down on your calendar for August 19th to 25th!

To participate, post a creative work corresponding to the daily prompt - fanfiction, fanart, playlists, metas, moodboards, etcetera - anything goes! You can participate in as few or as many days as possible, but we challenge everyone to try and create something for every prompt, even if it's only a hundred-word drabble or a 5-minute sketch! Don't stress about meeting the exact prompt or the deadline - the most important thing is to have fun with it!

Remember to tag your works with #jily week 2024, mention @sunshinemarauder and @kay-elle-cee, and add any fic you write to the Jily Week 2024 AO3 Collection.

PROMPTS:

19th of August - Love is in the Hair

Featuring those iconic "wow"/"oh" moments: Lily getting distracted by that classic hand-through-hair moment from James, and James stunned speechless by Lily's ethereal redheaded beauty.

20th of August - Partners in Crime

Partners in Potions class, Aurors out on a case, fighting side-by-side in the Order, engaging in some espionage — these two do it all!

21st of August - In Vino Veritas

Those moments of suspicious-liquid-induced confessions, be they from Veritaserum, Felix Felicis, Amortentia, or a heavy pour of firewhiskey.

22nd of August - Flip the Script

Gender swap, blood status swap, talent swap, personality swap — take a characteristic from one and give it to the other!

23rd of August - Matchmaker, Matchmaker

These two are stubborn, and we all know it. Sometimes all it takes is a little bit of a... push, whether from meddling Marauders or matchmaking mamas.

24th of August - Inspired By...

Write the AU of your dreams! Set as a romcom, inspired by mythology, or staged in medieval times — we welcome it all. Jily in university; as celebrities, cowboys, or vampires; transported into Game of Thrones, The Hunger Games, Percy Jackson, or your favorite story — any AU you can think of, write it! Special shoutout to @maluceh for inspiring this prompt!

25th of August - Continuation Station

That sequel idea that's nagging you? That missing moment from canon or your fic that you're dying to revisit? The prequel to give some fun context to that one-shot? This is your sign to write it!

———

Feel free to message us or drop an ask in our inbox if you have any questions!

Let the games begin...

#kat & kelsey take on jily week!!!#jily fans assemble...#jily week 2024 #jily #jily fic #so excited to see what y'all cook up #jw2024 #jily week

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greattigerssimp · 19 days ago

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PO boxers (my AU) and what their sponsors would be!

Because ain't no way the babygirls are living in NY on a single paycheck. Sell out time! (Also for my rp with @vampirtulpe )

Glass Joe 🇫🇷 🥐

- Typically partners with smaller bakeries that he frequents

- They reward him with free pastries and coffee in return for companionship

- When Joe first came to NY, he thought Panera Bread was a small indie bakery... oh how he was wrong and made fun of for it.

Von Kaiser 🇩🇪🔩

- Very cautious about partnering with anyone, mainly because of the whole ordeal with Soda

- Did exactly one commercial with some hardware company and then dipped

- His boxing class absolutely adored that commercial though, they were like "omggg Mr. Kaiser I saw you on the television yesterday!!1!"

Disco Kid 🇺🇲 🕺

- His sponsor is actually the radio station His dad owns

- In fact that radio station actually promotes most of the WVBA... but especially Disco Kid in particular

King Hippo 🏝 🦛

- No sponsors

- Created a blender once to sell it

- His blendah sucks

Piston Hondo 🇯🇵 🥊

- Will happily promote any small business he stumbles upon or that reach out to him

- This includes that boxercise class Heike owns

- Brings an unnatural amount of energy into each commercial, you'd swear he was on something

Bear Hugger 🇨🇦 🐻

- Partnered with this one syrup brand (ofc)

- So intertwined with them, Spruce is dead ahh the mascot of the brand now.

- Puts a secret environmental message into each ad he does

Great Tiger 🇮🇳🐅

- Not really a partnership, but he used to collab with multiple rap artists

- The deal was he'd get to sing at least two lines, or else he's not promoting the song

- Nowadays he'll just do a random gig if he needs extra cash

Don Flamenco 🇪🇸 🥀

- Does perfume and men's clothing commercials

- Bro is basically making tv-friendly thirst traps

- He actually loves doing them, but Carmen only let's him do them once per month

Aran Ryan 🇮🇪 😈

- Did a singular ad for some energy drink...

- Long story short, he got fired, the set burnt down, and 4 people landed in the hospital

- Yeah no one wants his smelly redhead ass

Soda Popinski 🇷🇺 🍾

- Soooo that whole fiasco with the corrupt Vodka company... yeah.

- Thankfully Macho Man helped him break off from the company

- No longer does any partnerships

Bald Bull 🇹🇷 🐂

- No sponsors, doesn't want any

- He's happy with what he's got

- He doesn't work well with others

Super Macho Man 🇺🇸 🌊

- Dude has done adverts for everyone and everything...

- Body care, cars, energy drinks, Hippos blender's... you name it, he's probably done it. Dude is a walking advert.

- Shares his promotional money with Soda

Mr. Sandman 💤 🟢

- Partnered with the WVBA

- Helps sell WVBA merchandise such as action figures, clothes... even events.

- Isn't allowed to interact with anyone or anything else...

(This was a cringy idea, I'm sorry ;-; )

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sytoran · 2 years ago

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𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐃𝐎𝐈𝐑 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘 || w.maximoff

boudoir photography: (.n) a photographic style featuring intimate, sensual, romantic, and sometimes erotic images of its subjects.

☰ PAIRING: sub!collegestudent!wanda x dom!amab!professor!reader

☰ REQUEST: I do have a prompt idea, subcollegestudent!wanda x domteacher!reader... where readers assigns an assignment that requires taking pictures that students have to sumbit for there final or something. Wanda submits a photo of her naked... reader gets flustered and holds her back after class and maybe reader tells wanda to meet them somewhere (an apartment or hotel) and then yeah reader fucks the shit out of wanda (sorry), also maybe G!P reader and some kinks like breeding, being tied up etc, whatever youre comfortable with and feel free to add your own touch.

☰ TAGS: smut (18+), college!au, lesbian sex, you're like the hot professor, and wanda is horny af, you can guess how that ends, bondage, breeding kink, professor kink, elements of brat-taming, mentions of reader smoking but i don’t condone smoking irl, shit eats your lungs up but its hot in fiction (to a certain extent), wanda is obsessed with your hands, sadism, degradation kink, humiliation kink

masterlist | AO3

albeit it might seem arrogant, you were quite aware of the fact that you were attractive.

in your defense, it was incredibly hard not to notice.

enrolling into the prestigious avengers college as a psychology professor with no less than two PhDs, you were quickly classified into the category of ‘the cool and funny one who’s too hot to be a professor’. those words weren’t yours, just for clarification.

the first time you walked into your class, donning a casual suit, laptop tucked under a thick arm of muscle that fabric didn’t conceal, your peripheral vision exposed the dropped jaws of female students and the impressed eyes of the male ones.

stunned silence at your strangely stark presence quickly turned into sheer admiration when you did your little introduction. whenever you tried to make eye contact with the students to be engaging, you were almost always guaranteed a flirty wink from the ladies. you nearly choked several times.

it didn’t help that your face was a little too good-looking, or that your smirk was a little too sexy. so when you started the lecture, it was plainly obvious that none of them were actually paying attention to the lesson, but more so you.

word spread fast, and soon it seemed like every student in avengers’ college wanted to sign up for professor l/n’s psychology class.

however, as much as the attention filled your pride, none of your students ever did quite catch your eye like a certain redheaded one.

photo-psychology.

human relationships, personal identity, interpersonal communication, perception, creativity. they helped to explain how we, as humans, create visual images, how we share them, and how people react to what they see.

though an expert in this field, you don’t think you would ever really be able to put into words the emotions you felt, when you saw wanda maximoff’s submission for her finals.

dear god.

when you said there was a photography assignment that would cost about 40% of the final grade, you presumed it meant well-thought-out imageries of subjects that represented the current state of one’s psychological wellbeing.

not this. certainly not this. nothing could have ever prepared you for this.

wanda maximoff, the redheaded student you held an inexplicable attraction towards, in a set of some of the most erotically compromising positions you had ever seen.

the first image she had submitted was of herself in a skirt that was far too tiny to leave anything to the imagination, black fishnet stockings tightly hugging sinful thighs, sitting on her knees.

the second image had wanda in a dark room, the only illumination being the moonlight from outside her window. the minimal lighting fell on her side, bringing light to a generous cleavage. wanda was cleverly and outragingly positioned so that the darkness prevented you from seeing more.

and the third image, god, the third image. it was a sight you would never forget. the redhead was dressed in nothing, sprawled out on her bed, one hand shoved up her pussy, the other probably holding the camera.

wanda’s face was contorted into an expression of euphoria, on the brink of an orgasm. pretty eyes glassy and her mouth slightly open, of which you swore you could hear her needy moans of release.

to add insult to injury, the camera was angled just so you could see a hint of wet, pink, folds, but not quite nearly enough to fully capture the entirety of her beauty, leaving you on the edge of precipice to crave more.

you stiffened in your seat, still in the middle of grading of the submissions during class. you swallowed, trying not to let it show. without looking up, you could feel those mischievous viridescent eyes on you.

while it was undeniably wrong, these were the most captivating, alluring, and entrapping images you had ever laid your experienced eyes upon.

“see me after class, ms. maximoff.” you said, as calmly as you could, voice only a touch rougher than usual.

“yes, professor,” wanda said back, ‘professor’ rolling off her tongue in a manner far too seductive to be respectful. you gripped the paper a little harder.

nearly an hour rolled past with strained silence, unbeknownst to the rest of the class. you waited patiently as the students filed out, watching wanda shove her friends playfully at their playful teasing, before waving goodbye as she walked up to you.

but you decided to leave her hanging, not making any move to speak. wanda was waiting for you to say anything, to do anything.

by the expression on your face, it looked like you were going to bend her over the table and take her right then and there, but while it was a desire rooted deeply in her heart, wanda knew you would never do that. you were an enigma of your own accord, too gentlemanly to be brash with your actions, but too dangerous to be undermined.

you were smart, obviously, calculated in everything that you did. but beyond that was an effortlessly alluring aura that drew everyone towards you like a moth a flame, wanda being no exception from the rule.

so when those calculated began scanning over her body, not in greedy lust but in the knowing acknowledgment that it was yours, wanda felt the inevitable wetness pool in her panties. the flush blossomed on her cheeks, spreading to her ears and her neck.

your eyes rested on her thighs, the ones that had been clad in stockings in the photo, your imagination running wild but your exterior ever-collected. wanda felt her thighs clench, and you licked your lips for a fraction of a second.

it seemed like an eternity of thick tension spreading across the expanse of the room, just her and you in a little bubble of forbidden desires better left unsaid.

then you absent-mindedly began typing on your laptop, not even half of your attention paid on wanda anymore. the redhead stiffened, wondering how you could’ve been so careless in that very moment.

but she caught sight of the paper that had been slipped to her previously. a slip with a neatly-written address, a time below it.

“it’s for you,” you pointed out offhandedly, finally, not even giving her a second glance.

nevertheless, wanda saw the slightest hint of a smirk tugging at your lips, and she felt the excitement bubble. or maybe it was something less innocent than excitement.

you stayed seated under your desk as she left, eyes burning into the back of wanda’s head, noting her flushed dizziness and the entrancing sway of pretty hips.

it was till she was gone that you let out a deep groan, spreading your legs and leaning back, having hidden a throbbing erection in your pants for nearly an hour.

it was 4 p.m. when wanda arrived at the hotel, her legs bouncing with excitement.

high heels clicked against marble tiling, hands shifting to tug down the incredibly short dress she had chosen. the air-conditioning was cold against bare skin, raising goosebumps.

the hotel you had chosen was expensive, the particular unit tucked away in some ungodly frivolous suite. wanda wasn’t sure how many zeroes you had spent on her.

but beyond all that, she was nervous. even though you were the object of her wet dreams encased in dapper black suits, you were still a professor, after all.

she took a deep breath, checking the unit number for the hundredth time before rapping on the door sharply.

wanda held her breath, wondering if you would even open the door. maybe it was wrong to trust you so foolishly. to crave and want someone she was forbidden to love.

“come in,” called a voice from inside, raspy with something wanda couldn’t quite pinpoint, but definitely turned on by.

your breath caught in your throat when you laid your eyes on wanda.

she was dressed in a juniper-green silk dress, one that clung to all the right curves. brilliantly crimson lipstick only magnetized all your attention to soft lips, ripe for the taking.

"hi," wanda murmured softly, stopping right before you. her eyes raked over your less formal figure, manspreading as you sat on the edge of the king-sized bed.

what captured her attention was a cigarette resting between your lips, being toyed with by two fingers. wanda didn't exactly mind, only further turned on at the sight of a partially unbuttoned blouse.

you hummed in response, extending your arms in a gesture to grasp her hips. wanda flushed at your straightforwardness, swallowing at the sight of long, ring-adorned fingers.

stepping closer to let you pull her into your personal space, wanda sighed in relief, relaxing into your touch.

using a free hand to press chaste kisses on the back of her knuckles, you grunted when wanda gently scraped painted nails on the sharpness of your jawline.

unspoken words between gentle caresses quickly became rougher gropes of bare skin, your impatience getting the better of you at wanda's eagerness.

"i- i want you, please." wanda whispered, palming at the erection in your pants.

"are you sure?" you voiced again, almost as if foreshadowing what could ensue. "i can- i can be a bit, well, rough."

wanda shook her head, swallowing when your hands roamed further southward. "i like it rough, professor."

then your hands were cupping her ass, pulling the redhead down onto your lap. gauging her reaction with watchful eyes, you wrapped a hand around her neck to pull her in.

wanda whined at the touch of your hand on her neck, squirming in your lap when you let out a puff of smoke into her mouth. her eyes got hazy as you rested a thumb on her bottom lip, tracing mindlessly.

the taste of the smoke made her dizzy, her breathing clogged for a moment when you began kissing her. gasping needily for oxygen, she tried to pull away.

but you were adamant in getting what you wanted, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, as wanda clawed at your exposed skin with shaky moans.

soon enough, the kiss was all tongue and teeth, clashing with fervency. you tilted your head to let your tongue slide between her soft lips, and wanda let out a moan that reverberated in your ears.

"please," she whined, tugging at the back of your shirt, taut with the expanse of expensively crafted muscles.

"i don't think so, miss maximoff," you responded with a breath of escapism, low decibels making her ears blush. "misbehaving today, hm?"

“i don’t know, maybe you should punish me first.” wanda replied almost instantaneously, haughty but with an air of brattiness that you wanted to fuck out of her.

your eyes narrowed, hands trailing over her pretty thighs, then slapping it roughly, making her jolt with a gasp. “maybe i should.” you murmured hotly, the kisses on her collarbone turning downright possessive.

wanda moaned, hips jerking against your crotch area. you groaned, hastily flipping her over onto your bed. effectively trapping her in, with knees on either side of her lithe figure, you didn’t think you had ever seen a more breathtaking sight.

"you alright with bondage?" you breathily asked, pupils dilating at wanda's hazy eyes of arousal. the fight she had in her earlier seemed to dissipate with each passing second you denied her of pleasure.

wanda nodded eagerly at the suggestion, tilting her head to suck at your fingers, tongue trailing around the cold metal of your rings.

you bit back a guttaral growl. "let go," you muttered, gaze tearing into her pliant mouth still sucking. wanda seemed to ignore you, only taking two fingers further down her throat, letting out a pretty gag.

"let go," you repeated again, slower, in disbelief at how disobedient wanda could be. but you shouldn't have been surprised, for she had quite literally sent her professor nudes for her finals.

“...you’re a fuckin’ brat, you know?”

“mhm, you should fuck it outta me.”

sooner than wanda thought physically feasible, you had her wrists bound by handcuffs, pinned to the headboard. the restraints allowed for minimal movement, but not nearly enough to satiate the redhead’s unrelenting need for alleviation.

you let your hands roam over her exposed body, now barren of clothing. she was divine, in every state of matter, with or without.

“you remember the first image?” you quizzed, hovering above wanda’s restrained form. she tried to reach for you, to touch and feel, but the only thing she was greeted with was cold metal of handcuffs.

"what image?" wanda gasps, her whine breaking off into a shrill shriek of pleasure when your lips wrap around her cute, stiff nipple.

"don't play innocent," you reprimanded with a dangerous seriousness. pulling down your pants, wanda ogled at the sight of your huge cock straining against the pants of your boxers. then you pulled that off, too, letting it spring free, and wanda wondered how the hell it was going to ever fit inside her.

but her train of thought was halted by a harsh slap to her thighs. you seemed to like that, watching porcelain turn crimson, watching the shake of the ass in its aftermath.

"you know the first image," you begin, sliding your cock against her wet folds. wanda cries, groping for you, fighting against the cuffs. "the one with the tight stockings, and the little skirt."

your practiced self-restraint left wanda a bumbling mess, cock brushing against her clit in the slightest. it was so frustrating yet satisfying to be bound by the cuffs, denying her of pleasure yet giving her that in abundance.

"you got all dressed up for me?" you hummed with a satisfied grin at her state of duress. "such a whore, mhm?"

"i- i'm not - ah! - m'not a whore- f-fuck," wanda fell apart at your commanding jurisdiction, like she had been subjected to imprisonment within your unrelenting hold.

"but you are," you insisted, letting your cock enter her dripping cunt in the slightest, then pulling out. "so wet, fuck."

wanda let out a disparaged cry, as you smirked. "and the second image." you continued. "you remember that?"

wanda nodded frantically, the cuffs on her wrist leaving red marks in its wake. she knew better than to disobey you now, to let her brattiness be the cause of that loss of euphoric pleasure.

"i remember, professor. i'm s-sorry. please-"

before wanda could even finish her sentence of wailed apologies, you slid your cock into her properly, as wanda let out a moan so pornographic she looked divine.

the redhead undulated her hips frantically against that little bit of friction, chasing her high as you pulled out yet again. "you sure you're sorry?" you questioned. "'cos i don't remember telling you to fuck yourself on me like a little slut."

"fill me up, professor, please," wanda begged.

"oh, i don't think so, miss maximoff," you said dryly, plucking at her nipple so harshly she screamed. "not until you tell me about that third picture. so fuckin' needy, huh? what if i just reported it to school's authorities? then you'd be expelled 'cos you were all too whorish for your professor."

wanda thrashed under you, fighting against the handcuffs in a futile attempt, as you began sucking on a hardened nipple. "just wanted to take your pups, please. please, i need it." she rambled, gasps and moans escaping her divine lips.

your unrelenting tempo of cruel erotica left wanda a mindless mess of babbles and she was so, so wet.

you stole away orgasm after orgasm, and wanda cried at each lost, knowing she had brought it upon herself.

"please, please, please, i need you inside now." she whimpered.

but your patience had soon run thin, and you could never feasibly deny such a breathtaking woman before you, so you finally gave in to her desires.

your grip on her hips so harsh wanda was sure it would bruise the next day. the thought of going back to school and seeing you at your desk with the knowledge that her body was yours made her shiver, but then that thought was thrown out the window when you entered her.

"oh, fuck," you cursed, eyes wide, a breathy rasp in your voice that was ear candy for wanda.

the redhead had taken the entirety of your cock in her hungry pussy on the first thrust, velvet walls hugged around you so wet and hot you never wanted free reign again.

"professor," wanda's pathetic little mewl had your grip on her hips tightening.

"you're soaked." you groaned out, shifting inside her to make yourself comfortable. the redhead thrashed again at your actions, and you had to shove two fingers in her mouth to shut her up.

the familiar feeling of cold metal against her tongue had wanda relaxing for the slightest, but you took that opportunity to begin fucking her like it was the last thing on earth you would do.

again and again, using her like a little doll, releasing your healthy amounts of seed into her gaping pussy as she begged to be bred.

orgasm after orgasm, as wanda cried your name, as you marked her with sharp teeth and even sharper thrusts.

over and over, until the hotel room reeked of sex, and the both of you were covered in slick and sweat, and until the management security came knocking on your door.

it was 2 a.m. when wanda left the hotel, her legs barely able to move.

this took way too long lmao also i loved the contrast between “it was 4pm when wanda arrived at the hotel, her legs bouncing with excitement.” and “it was 2am when wanda left the hotel, her legs barely able to move.” it’s a parallel i thought was pretty cool so hopefully yall noticed that detail too :o

masterlist

#marvel women #marvel smut #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wlw smut #gxg smut #wanda x reader smut #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff #x reader #gender neutral reader #marvel #top reader #dom reader #bottom wanda maximoff #sub wanda #my works

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mauselet · 1 year ago

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The Influencer - And All Is Not Fine

This story is for @ask-the-rag-dolly's blog, specifically The Influencer AU. Honestly, loving the blog so much. Huge thanks to Mod Bee for creating it and if you haven't already, go check out her blog.

Big thanks to WanderingDragon and Foolscap Hamato for helping with the fic.

Yes, the story is named after Entropy by Awkward Marina lyrics. Also, the anon/s that speak in orange and red, you got a reference in there cause it felt fitting.

Well, I really hope you enjoy this story!

Story includes: Ragatha X Pomni (but can be taken as platonically), angst, hurt/comfort

TW body horror, possessive behavior, possession, anxiety/panic attack, haphephobia/fear of being touched, questioning sanity, self-neglect

It's been a few weeks since Pomni found out that there were currently hundreds of voices inside Ragatha's head. Wow, and after all this time it didn't sound any less insane. From what Pomni understood, those voices were a virus that had infected the circus and latched onto Ragatha. They couldn't tell Caine about this because he'd likely kill them and Ragatha refused that. For some reason, she wanted to protect them which seemed even crazier than the whole situation. Some of them were friendly, sure, but others…

They attacked Jax, causing him to glitch out. They taunted Ragatha by plaguing her mind with the worst cases imaginable or calling her names or taking her too literally. They spawned that stupid paper shredder!

Oh, how Pomni hated that thing! The next time she sees one, she’ll personally smash it into pieces.

In short, the voices–all of them–stressed Ragatha out. And who could blame her? Sometimes even your own voice in your head can drive you mad. Pomni was actually impressed that the doll hadn’t reached her breaking point yet with these “anons”, as they called themselves, constantly following her.

Of course, it wasn’t all that bad. Sure, they led to Ragatha temporarily losing her arm, but it was also thanks to them that she worked up the courage to speak to Pomni again. The thought of that always brought a smile to the jester’s face.

She was glad she could talk to her. Not only because Ragatha was nice and overall pleasant to be around, but it was also good for the ragdoll; especially now that she avoided the other circus performers to prevent another Jax fiasco or a possible infection.

The redhead’s absence was noticed by the others and to Pomni’s surprise, they were concerned about her. When Pomni first arrived, she was too busy spiraling down her anxiety to see it, but these trapped souls were friends. They cared about one another, even if it’d be in their own strange ways. So Pomni decided to reassure them all with daily reports on how Ragatha was doing.

And that was usually the extent of her interactions with them. Until Caine’s adventures forced her to stick around the whole day. Sometimes she was able to avoid them, however, there were times when she just couldn’t no matter how hard she tried. Unfortunately for her, adventures like these stacked over the course of the last few days, making it basically impossible for Pomni to check on Ragatha.

By the third or fourth day, Pomni was getting anxious. Throughout the adventure, her fingers were constantly convulsing while stuck in an unnatural position, her eyes turned into scribbles and her thoughts were as far away from the game as possible.

Ragatha must’ve been lonely. It’s been days since she’s interacted with anyone. Well…since she’s interacted with someone who meant no harm to her. Hopefully, she was alright…

Pomni suddenly jerked and snapped out of her thoughts as a gloved hand waved in front of her eyes. Her head shot up and she saw Kinger, Zooble and Gangle who announced to her that they found a way to replace her in today’s adventure and that she could go see Ragatha. If she had to be honest, she didn’t even know what the adventure was, but if she really wasn’t needed there…

She gave the three of them a quick smile and dashed to Ragatha’s room as fast as her short legs could carry her. As soon as she arrived and caught her breath, she rang the bell, waiting and…

Waiting.

Pomni felt a pit in her stomach. No, no, no. She shook her head. Everything’s fine, it’s just taking a bit. She rang again.

“R-Ragatha? It’s me, Pomni. A-are you in there?”

But she was still left waiting.

“Ragatha!” she raised her voice, yet still no response.

Oh God, three days… Three whole days with nothing but those voices. That must’ve been a nightmare for the doll and Pomni left her dealing with that alone. She left her again…

“I’m coming in!” she announced and reached for the doorknob. Her body froze as she held it, overwhelmed by worried thoughts, but also by a sense of déjà vu. She chuckled darkly at the memory of desperately wanting to know what was behind a door she shouldn’t go through and then opened.

A wave of relief washed over Pomni as she wasn’t instantly met with a glitching blob with a thousand glowing eyeballs. She walked in and closed the door behind her.

She looked around the room and her heart skipped a beat. Ragatha was there, sitting on her bed, sewing what appeared to be a suit. She was so focused on her work; maybe that's why she didn't register the bell. Pomni can't actually remember if she'd ever seen her this focused, but she looked surprisingly calm and, the jester had to admit, quite pretty.

“Um…Ragatha?” the short woman started, walking over, “I'm sorry for barging in, I was just worried when you didn't answer.” But the ragdoll didn't respond; it was as if she didn’t even notice that Pomni was in the room talking to her.

Was she ignoring her? Was she mad? Did she…hate her? All of those thoughts sounded really ridiculous considering that this was Ragatha we were talking about. She doesn’t even allow herself to hate Jax, someone who’s caused more than enough harm to her, so there is no way she’d ever hate Pomni. Right…? Yet all those thoughts, as unrealistic as they might’ve seemed, felt like real possibilities to Pomni.

Somehow despite Jax putting her worst fear in her room, voices constantly screaming at her and hurting her and Caine forcing her into some of the most dangerous scenarios, not being there for her seemed like the biggest crime of them all.

Well, there was only one way to fix it.

“I’m so sorry I took so long,” Pomni let out, her steps slowing down, “I tried to check on you, but Caine’s adventures-”

“Oh, it’s alright, dear,” hearing that gentle voice, Pomni stopped. It was nice hearing her again, but something felt off. Sure, Ragatha occasionally used pet names like hun or sweetheart or even dear–oh geez, Pomni felt her cheeks heating up just thinking about it—that wasn’t the issue. She sounded more nonchalant than reassuring.

That didn’t matter right now. She wasn’t mad and that brought a smile to Pomni’s face. However, that didn’t last long as the doll finally raised her head.

Pomni’s face turned paler than usual if it was even possible, the pinwheel eyes shrunk, making them nearly invisible and her smile vanished as if it was never there.

Oh %$!#... Oh %$!#! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO! This wasn’t… This couldn’t have been real!

She wasn’t just staring at a black void with two colorful eyes where Ragatha’s button was supposed to be. She wasn’t just witnessing her friend slowly abstracting in front of her! She wasn’t… She wasn’t…

This wasn’t real!

It… It was just one of the digital hallucinations that Caine mentioned. Yeah! That’s it! That’s…That’s what it…was…

But those eyes, that void, they were still there, no matter how much Pomni convinced herself about the opposite.

Caine. She had to go get Caine! As Ragatha said once, maybe there was still time to fix this.

“Stay here!” Pomni blurted out, “I’ll be right back!” She quickly turned around and ran to the door. She’s going to come back this time. This time she won’t let Ragatha suffer.

She reached for the doorknob, but before she could grab it, arms wrapped around her and she was pulled back. One of the arms held her abdomen while the other was around her neck, not too tight yet still uncomfortable.

Feeling the fabric arms against her skin made her dizzy and itchy. She could sense every single pixel touching her, causing goosebumps to spread over her body.

“Where are you going, dear~?” she heard a whisper in her ear. It was Ragatha’s gentle, calming voice- No. It sounded different and…wrong. The voice was demanding and rough.

Pomni’s breath hitched. Was really something wrong with Ragatha? Or was her mind just messing with her? Well, the physical contact didn’t exactly help her think clearly as her body was plagued with this disgusting sensation.

“Don’t leave me~” For whatever reason, those words made the black-haired woman sick.

The doll’s embrace tightened. The touch of the fabric felt so venomous and paralyzing. It felt sickening. It felt wrong.

The jester wanted to escape that trap. She needed to escape it, yet no matter how much the voice in her head screamed at her body to move, it wouldn’t budge an inch. She was frozen in such a predicament with nothing but her racing heart, uneven breath, and voice stuck in her throat.

She attempted to take a deep breath, only to leave herself coughing.

“Are you alright, dear?” That voice again. It made shivers run down Pomni’s spine.

She sucked in another breath and let out a very weak and broken “Ragatha”. She repeated this a few times until she made a sensible sentence: “Ragatha… Please, let go…”

“Let go?” the doll wondered innocently, “why would I do that?”

“Please…” the jester mouthed.

“It’s not like I want to hurt you.” The grip tightened even more. “I would never hurt you. I would never-” The taller woman went silent. She felt the pale jester in her arms trembling and her heart dropped.

“Pomni…” Ragatha let out softly and her embrace loosened, “y-you’re shaking…” Rather than talking to Pomni, however, she seemed to have told it to herself. Reminding it to herself as if just physically feeling it wasn't enough to make it sink in.

Even some of the voices were yelling at her to let go while the others objected. Was it the good or bad ones? What even made them good or bad? Were there even any bad voices? Were there even any good voices?

The voices that objected weren’t yelling, but whispering yet they were somehow much louder than the yells.

“Don’t listen to them–” “You can’t let go–” “You can–!” “She’ll find Caine and tell him about us–” “She wouldn’t–” “It’s too great of a risk–!” “If Caine finds out about us, we’ll be–” “What would happen to Rags–?”

“Ragatha, don’t you care about us? Don’t you care about what happens to you?!”

She flinched, instinctively tensing her hold on Pomni. In no way did she help the situation, with the jester’s body convulsing out of control.

“What is it, dolly? Are we too much for you to handle? Are we too loud? Can you even tell the difference between us and your own thoughts? Is there even a difference at this point?”

Oh God, her knees felt weak, her head was spinning, and tears filled her eye. She felt like she was about to collapse at any moment, but there was something forcing her to stand. Something kept her body like this against her will despite her exhaustion.

“Oh, dollface, do you feel the abstraction crawling under your skin? Or well, fabric? Did we do it? Did we f̴i̷n̴a̵l̸l̴y̸ ̶b̷r̸e̶a̵k̷ ̶y̷o̴u̵?̸”

All the voices then started shouting over one another again. Ragatha couldn’t even make out what they were saying as it all blended into an incoherent mess. With so much noise in her head, she wanted to join them. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs; let out all her frustration not just with the voices, but with her whole body. It would be a beautiful relief, but even that was a luxury. Her body wouldn’t let her. They wouldn’t let her.

She’d swear that in the middle of all the noise she heard things that made her want to throw up. She hoped that it was just her imagination and her brain tried to give those noises some meaning, however… That would mean it was her own thoughts and that creeped her out even more. Strangely, some of those words weren’t anything bad, they were just…words. Yet they all sounded so disgusting. So wrong. Every last one of them.

Every last one…

Every last–

“Please…” One voice silenced all of them despite how weak and broken it was. No… No, it was loud and clear. It was…real.

It hit her like a truck. Everything that just happened in the span of a few minutes. How Pomni walked into the room, apologizing. How terrified the jester was when she saw her. How she stopped her when she tried to leave. How she was holding her this whole time despite the pain she was clearly causing Pomni.

Ragatha jumped back, letting go of the jester, allowing her to collapse to her knees. The small woman was sitting there, swinging back and forth, hyperventilating. She reached her hands to her arms as if to brace herself, but she didn’t touch. Instead, she grabbed her hat and pulled, her eyes shut. The bells one would associate with joy and fun now sounded distorted to both of the performers. The bells were… unnerving.

“Oh my gosh…” Ragatha let out as it all sank in. She covered her mouth and a tear ran down her face as she stared down at the black-haired woman. Her heart was breaking at the sight. “Oh my gosh…”

She did this… No, no, no. The voices did. Right…? She…She wasn’t in control, was she?

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, although, she wasn’t sure if Pomni could even hear her, “I-I lost control of them.” She cried more. “I messed up. Ragatha, you idiot… You %$!# idiot! You scared her. You hurt her! Why would I…? I would never-”

She felt tears rolling down her right cheek too, but that wasn’t possible. She wiped the tears with her hand and when she looked at it, her fingertips were covered by dark liquid.

Her heart stopped, realizing what that was. The dark void was leaking. The voices were right…

The bells on Pomni’s head rang again, causing Ragatha to snap out of those thoughts. There was something more important she had to do than pity herself. Her emotions could wait. Her abstraction could wait! She didn’t matter right now. She didn’t matter at all! Pomni did.

Despite her own breakdown, she rushed over to the jester, kneeling in front of her. She was in tears, barely thinking straight, potentially on the verge of abstracting, but Pomni mattered more.

Ragatha reached her hand towards the pale woman but flinched when she realized it wasn’t the brightest idea considering what caused this in the first place. She instead laid her hands on her own knees so Pomni could see them.

“Hey, Pomni?” she spoke up, her voice trembling. That sure was reassuring…

C’mon, Ragatha! Get a hold of yourself! Pomni needs you! Don’t freak her out.

She took a deep breath and ran her hand through her yarn, brushing it over her right eye to hide it. She curled her hands into fists and calmed her breath before speaking.

“Pomni, hun?” She was doing her best to keep her voice stable this time. “Look at me, please. Hun, look at me.” Pomni cringed, her body still going back and forth. “It’s okay, it’s just me. The real me, I promise,” Ragatha continued, “I just need you to look at me.” The big eyes slowly opened, showing scribbles, and looked up. “That’s it.” Ragatha smiled at her brightly. “Good job, sweetheart. Good job.”

The smaller woman was still trembling, still pulling at her hat, still swinging back and forth, still not controlling her breath.

“Alright, dear-”

Pomni flinched at that, tears streaming down her face as she looked away.

“O-okay! Okay,” Ragatha said in an unintentional panic. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out. I won't call you that again, I promise. I promise. You’re safe now.”

Still in tears, the jester stopped pulling at her hat, yet the bells kept ringing. Each sob was accompanied by a happy metallic chime as her body jerked. Ragatha had to admit that it made her wails quite adorable and each little jingle seemingly made a voice in her head disappear each time. But she wished more than anything that they'd stop.

“Pomni?” Ragatha knew she had to keep trying. “Hey, Pompom, hun… Can you look at me again?”

The smaller woman didn't seem to listen. She then choked on her sobs as they didn't mix well with her rapid breathing. Seeing this, some of the voices panicked, but Ragatha had to stay calm. She instinctively lifted her hand from her knee, however, thankfully stopped herself from touching Pomni.

“Please?” the ragdoll’s soothing voice asked and Pomni couldn't deny it. The black-haired woman turned to her, scribbles in her bloodshot eyes.

“Good job.” A smile of relief and reassurance formed on Ragatha's face. “Now, honey, you're having another episode, but that's okay. It's okay, I'll help you through it. I’m not going anywhere. We'll get through it together, okay?”

Pomni nodded slowly, choking on her sobs again.

“I need you to breathe with me,” Ragatha told her, “four seconds in, hold and six out. Four, hold, six.” She waited for Pomni to nod again before she took a deep breath that the jester immediately followed, yet struggling. They held their breath, but sniffles broke them. Then they exhaled together.

“Now, let's try again.”

And as Ragatha said, they did. Breathing was much easier for Pomni this time around.

“You're doing great,” the redhead praised her, “are you able to go on your own?” She watched as Pomni nodded and took another deep breath with her eyes shut. “Good, keep going. You’re safe, hun. Focus on me, okay?”

When Pomni opened her eyes again, they were back to their pinwheel look. Ragatha also noticed that she stopped shaking and the swinging slowed down. Her smile widened in relief.

She kept talking to Pomni while the jester calmed her breath. They were like this for a few more minutes until…

“R-Ragatha…?” Pomni finally spoke up and the ragdoll gasped quietly.

“Welcome back, sweetheart,” Ragatha greeted her, “you feeling any better?”

“A little…” Pomni’s voice was still pretty weak, but she had much more to say. She held her hands together, rubbing her thumb with the other. “But I should be the one asking you.”

“What are you talking about?” Ragatha shook her head. “I just helped you through a panic attack-”

“And I’m forever grateful for that,” the jester blurted out, “but, Ragatha… You’re on the verge of abstracting!” They both flinched at the yell and Ragatha covered the black void on her face despite being hidden behind the hair. “And it’s all because of me.” Pomni shifted her eyes away. “Because I left you when you needed me. Again!”

“Pomni, you can’t blame yourself for that. It wasn’t your fault.”

“‘Can’t blame yourself?’ You’re the one to talk,” the pale woman scuffed. She then took a deep breath. “Sorry.”

“No, you have all the right to call me out.”

“Did it happen because of… them?” Pomni glanced at the taller woman, her eyes narrowing at the last word.

“I think so,” Ragatha replied and noticed Pomni inhaling to speak, but she quickly interrupted her, “that’s why you can’t tell Caine.”

“But, Rag-”

“You promised.”

“And you said you wanted this to stop,” Pomni reminded her, raising her voice, “I understand you don’t want them to die, but think about what they’re doing to you. Stress? Mental breakdowns? Abstraction?!” The doll lowered her head in shame. “Rags, you’re suffering and I can’t bear to watch. You care about the people around you and I appreciate that, but for once in this digital life think about yourself first.”

“No need to worry, darling,” Ragatha said calmly, looking up with a bright smile as if the topic was just a casual small talk, “the anons are actually what keeps me from abstracting, otherwise I’d be in the cellar by now.” Pomni cringed at every word due to how cheerfully the doll said them. “We’re also really, really sorry for touching you. We were so afraid of you telling Caine that we had to stop you somehow. Sorry we hurt you.”

Pomni was just staring at her, an unsure expression painted on her face. This all felt wrong and Ragatha’s next words didn’t ease that feeling.

“I’m fine, really. I’m sure that I can join in on the adventures again soon.”

No, that wasn’t right. She just said she’s afraid of Caine finding out, why does she suddenly want to take part in his adventures? And that wasn’t the only thing off.

“What happened to staying in your room to prevent infecting people with the virus?” Pomni wondered, “don’t get me wrong, the others would be happy to see you and they’re definitely worried about you. Heck, Zooble, Gangle and Kinger helped me get out of an adventure to check up on you; it’s just…”

“You’ve been spending so much time with me and you’re not influenced,” Ragatha pointed out.

Well, Pomni couldn’t argue with that. There were still many other issues with this seemingly spontaneous idea, but the more she thought about them the less sense her reasoning as to why they were even issues made. It was as if her mind was getting blurrier the more she tried to use her brain. She must’ve been tired from her previous meltdown.

“I guess you have a point.” She let out a sigh and smiled at the woman softly, but then… Did Ragatha have that wide grin on her face before? That didn’t matter right now; she needed some rest.

“Look, I know I haven’t been here in a while, but I should really go into my room and take a nap,” she explained.

“Oh, no worries, d̶e̶a̸r̴,” Ragatha replied, “have a nice sleep.”

“I’ll try. Thanks.” Pomni stood up and headed to the door. She grabbed the doorknob and turned back. “And I mean it, try thinking about yourself. It isn’t hard to care about you; me and at least three other people can agree on that.” Her smile widened as she opened the door. “And Ragatha? …I… Thank you for helping me through the attack, I really appreciate it. You’re a great friend.”

She then closed the door and stayed in the room.

She originally planned on finding Caine the moment she was outside. She was well aware that Ragatha didn't want that, however, Pomni was willing to do anything to help her stop hurting. She didn't care if Ragatha hated her for it–she was sure she would–she just wanted her friend to be safe.

But as much as she wanted that, she couldn't bring her body to go through with it. It was as if it didn't obey her.

“Don't leave me,” she remembered the doll's words. No, it wasn't a memory; it felt like someone just whispered in her ear.

That's crazy. It was just her imagination. Nothing else.

“Pomni, please. Don't leave,” Ragatha's voice begged her. It sounded so real. But there was no way Ragatha's whispers could reach her, right?

The more she thought about it, the more her mind was filled with white noise, static. And the longer that went on, the more that noise made sense to her as if it spoke to her.

“I'm scared,” one noise was much louder. Ragatha's voice.

Pomni's not leaving her again.

She let go of the doorknob and turned around to see the ragdoll still sitting on her knees, showing Pomni her back.

“Actually, can I stay here?” the jester asked, “I don't want you to be alone and…I'd also feel more comfortable with some company.”

“Why of course,” the doll replied, the huge grin remaining on her face. She got up and headed over to her bed. Reaching into her hair, she pulled out her bow and used it to tie her hair up in a ponytail.

“You can take a nap in my bed,” she said.

“Oh.” Pomni blushed a little, not only at the offer but also due to the redhead’s sudden hairdo change. Whatever it was, it had some strong influence on Pomni. "Thanks."

Once at her bed, Ragatha picked up the suit she was working on when Pomni first walked in. It was nearly done. It truly was clothing worthy of someone as powerful as her; someone with influence stronger than the ringmaster himself.

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fishareglorious · 7 months ago

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In the wake of the new pizza hut collab and that one specific emote of schneider threateningly looming behind pizza hut regulus with a gun, I got possessed and created an au where ezra, matilda and regulus work with each other in the same branch.

May or may not have gotten carried away with it. AU below.

matilda is the long suffering branch manager that doesn't even want to work there. this poor french girl is really going through it (customer service)

alas she stays because of a certain redheaded customer. sonetto visits sometimes to check on regulus and that the store is relatively close to where she lives.

matilda constantly five seconds away from firing everyone and handing out her resignation but then sonetto walks inside and suddenly everything is good (sotheby just accidentally created ketamine in the back)

she hates her job because all the people that visit here are fucking lunatics.

ezra is the least problematic of the employees and he sometimes supplies the mushrooms because of his mycology hobby, but one time he accidentally switched up the button mushrooms with similar-looking hallucinogenic ones and matilda put a stop into it because a customer got high (desert flannel)

kanjira is their one and only delivery driver and while she drives matilda up the wall by always stealing from the cash register, she'd terrifyingly efficient and fast with her deliveries (at the expense of being a menace in the highway)

regulus works as an all-rounder but sometimes takes kanjira's place whenever she's not around. she always gets a traffic ticket. she and kanjira are in a competition on who can amass the most

apple is here and is the only other voice of reason working in this place. matilda respects him because he's the only one that can rein in regulus

The one story that started this whole AU. sorry schneider's dead in this universe

one day vertin comes around to catch up with regulus. regulus was on the process of serving pineapple pizza when suddenly someone appears behind her to chop her in the neck and curses her out in the most horrific ear-bleeding italian. vertin catches a glimpse of regulus' attacker, then crumples into the floor in shock because its her dead mafia girlfriend.

matilda comes to the scene only to see regulus passed out and vertin silently weeping on the floor.

someone still has to serve the damn pizza. fucks sake.

after the pineapple pizza incident there's now a ghost haunting the store that really really has an agenda against pineapple pizza. at this point matilda is very much inclined to blackout the hawaiian in the menu just to placate the damn ghost.

A comprehensive list of all the weirdos that come in here:

there's an absolutely pleasant and nice lady that sometimes eats here but the thing is she has this thing where she puts yellow bug things in her pizza as some kind of condiment and its so damn weird because those things are still ALIVE. but she gets a pass because she's done no trouble and is nice to everyone

one time the store had a break in and for some reason all the greens in the inventory were eaten. everyone checks the security cameras. it was. it was a fucking deer.

(yes, jessica is an actual deer here.)

constantine came here once only to pull the "i demand to speak to your manager" thing

pickles at one point ordered something here by himself. in the words of regulus: what the dawg doin?

ezra's collegemates (the laplace crew) sometimes visit and its a hit or miss depending on who is it

the last time x came here the stove got legs and sentience then it left pizza hut and never came back. some say it became a famous track and field runner

medicine pocket was banned like. years ago even before matilda started working here. does it stop her? no. he caught wind of sotheby's ketamine thing and tried to recruit her at one point. matilda chased them off with a spray bottle.

mesmer jr is the least chaos-inducing person of the group but at the same time because of the childhood friends that have baggage with matilda the tension between then is. frankly you could cut through it with a knife

one time she, vertin, and matilda were in the same proximity and regulus passed by and started asphyxiating

sometimes their research advisor enigma gets dragged here because someone has to feed him something other than his twentieth cup of black coffee. matilda has beef with him for some reason.

the only people matilda remotely respects that has entered this pizza hut is shamane and kaalaa baunna

but at the same time she has witnessed kaalaa stumble here at an insanely late/early hour with three giant cups of coffee then proceeded to chug all of it down then order something. she is visibly shaking from the caffiene. matilda is scared.

matilda called shamane 'dad' once and after that she has sworn to never show her face to him again

pavia exists here but keeps a wide berth of pizza hut because it contains the insult to italian cuisine

one time a foreign singer (isolde) came here to have lunch with her wife then got possessed by schneider and started angrily lambasting and threatening to haunt everyone from the grave if they've ever dared to eat pineapple pizza. she later passed out then woke up all normal again

lilya is also on the pizza hut blacklist because she crashed her motorcycle into the windows trying to pick vertin up

broke as hell researcher windsong stumbles into pizza hut with the biggest smile on her face as if she won the lottery (she did. it was the amount of the cheapest thing in the menu) then proceeds to hork down her food like she's starving (she probably was.) fun fact this is inspired by her voiceline that is basically the same story

bear with me on my vilasong propaganda for a sec.

local schoolteacher vila comes into the store because her student wandered off and is now talking windsong's ear off, and then the two have this weird but sweet meetcute that's almost the same as canon

windosng tells her "oh god hey i swear im not a child abductor" then vila just laughs and fucking sniffs her and says "yeah i know you don't smell threatening at all."

they are both so strange. next time they come together hand in hand.

matilda is malding can't she have a nice meetcute like that with sonetto (minus the whole. child abduction statement. and the sniffing thing. actually she just wants a normal nice meetcute)

37 came there with the aperion gang and all she did was calculate the precise circumference of the pizza and then tell the matilda it was an imperfect circle. matilda then says 'do i look like i give two shits about whether or not this is a perfect circle. fuck you want me to do' but in customer service language

would arcana even step inside a pizza hut.

a knight sometimes comes here and he and apple are the investments in pizza hut's old men yaoi stocks.

hofmann and marcus came in once and marcus was the one trying to order but the poor thing kept stuttering so badly that hofmann heaved out the most world-weary sigh and ordered for both of them

besmir came in there once while vertin was there and vertin shot up from her seat and went 'MOTHER???!?!??!?!?!!!!!!!!" and thus came the most awkward family reunion that happened. (regulus screamed out "SO YOU HAVE A MOTHER" while the two were watching each other awkwardly not knowing what to do)

#reverse 1999 #certified storm moments #im not tagging anyone there is so many people here #thanks to l3xdrigo for letting me drop this insanity yesterday on their messages #there is no canon info or really anything about vertin's mom but im just gonna make it that she's besmir here

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starry-bi-sky · 11 months ago

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honestly your dpxdc clone au gives me life, its adorable as all hell and im a sucker for found family but with that being said, its so freaking hysterical to me that Danny is going full feral liminal menace at Wes any time hes near and Wes himself is still 100% into it the freak (affectionate) and thats not even pointing out the paralles it could possible create since danny and dames gives massive parallels to dick and damian and dick does have a thing for redheads.

yeesSSSSS! I was planning on hoarding this to myself but i can't not reply. and i'll be able to find this again with the clone^2 tag so win WIN. i'm so glad you are as delighted by this as me. It's so hilarious to me that Danny just becomes a complete freak whenever he spots Wes, and I'm the one who wrote it into existence. Like- like i don't know how to explain my vision in words but like, its like Danny sees Wes and immediately goes 'what can I do to make his day worse'. And then he goes and does it.

(honorary read more because i talk a lot)

He's relatively normal around his friends too, which makes him going full-fledged unhinged around Wes even funnier to me. Like, Danny will spout weird shit sometimes to Sam and Tucker, but usually its prefaced with him talking about patrol or there would be context before he said anything. With Wes? Though?? he will just. say anything, completely unprompted. Slings an arm around his shoulder like they've been buddies since primary school and then spits out a weird new fun fact he learned about the bodily anatomy while researching his latest cold case. All vaguely-threatening but utterly insane things to say as way to start a conversation.

And sometimes its not even that, he'll walk up to Wes and ask him if he saw the latest daytime fight between Phantom and Skulker. And then he'll say "yeah i missed it myself but I saw clips of it being posted online" and then watch Wes mentally explode him with his mind. or he'll disparage Phantom for having such a young partner with him, "Can you believe he'd let a kid fight ghosts with him? I'd never let my brother ghosthunt with me if I was Phantom."

All of this with such a deceptive look on his face but the most delighted, shit-eating gleam in his eyes. Wes is chewing glass and he wants to yell that he does let his brother fight ghosts with him. Also you told him yourself that nothing would've stopped your demonic (Wes' words) little brother from joining you.

Damian gets in on the fuckery occasionally, but since he's not around often with Wes about, it doesn't happen nearly as often as it does between Wes and Danny. Sam and Tucker know he's screwing with him too, and both of them are a little wary about him being careless with his secret id. But he's been doing this since he was 14-ish and it hasn't backfired yet. So. They're not actively stopping him.

Danny walks back to his lunch table after terrorizing Wes and Tucker just asks him what he said, because Wes was about as red as a tomato when he walked away. Danny offhandedly sighs and innocently says he tried to have a conversation about Phantom with him. Wes didn't seem to like it all that much. Weird.

And yes, yes. Wes is totally into it and is slightly enraged about this fact, because not even he knows why he's into it. The freak (affectionate). Danny gives him this troublemaker smirk, and i did say smirk, and Wes doesn't know whether or not if he wants to smack him or kiss him. Or both. Like, yeah, pine, white boy, pine.

(And this is a dramatized image but I'm also highly entertained by the idea that Wes keeps getting routine dirty looks from various peers because they, too, have a crush on Fenton. Except Fenton doesn't talk to anyone else unless its his friends and sometimes Valerie, and Weston, the guy who keeps accusing him of being the local vigilante, is somehow routinely having conversations with him?? And BLOWING IT?? Like everyone else thinks he's fumbling so bad, and yet fenton keeps tALKING to him.)

And yes!! i'm always so pleased whenever someone brings up the parallels D+D have to Dick and Damian, because that was lowkey my intention when I was making the solo clone damian au. Although it was supposed to be more implied since I don't really know much about Damian and Dick other than they're very close and Dick was Damian's Batman for a year. And then of course the very smaller parallel (??) 'what if' between Bruce and Damian and D+D in clone^2 considering who they are both clones of.

And man this just makes me want to talk about when batfam meet D+D because I just want them to see D+D be so brotherly towards each other. Like I want them to see Bby Dames wearing his goofy fun fact shirts and stealing Danny's hoodies/flannels/etc and blatantly lying about it when Danny asks. Only for Danny to then throw him over his shoulder like Tadashi from BH3 and jump around.

And also. I do not know what Damian Wayne's (DW as I'll call him) stance on being called "Dami" is - the general consensus I've seen is that its usually used as a playful nickname in order to get a rise out of him, and he doesn't really like it.

But baby Dames being called that freely, and often, and its sometimes used to get a rise out of him but thats typically what nicknames do. Its used as easily as his full name is with the same amount of affection. And its like his main go-to nickname. "Dami" and "Dames" with the occasional "Bud/Buddy", "Squirt", "Little man", etc. Not once is he ever called 'demon-spawn'

(which i know is a fanon nickname but its a relatively popular nickname)

but yeah, uhhh. i think thats all of my thoughts on the matter. for now lmAO

#danny fenton is not the ghost king #clone^2 #i use 'like' so much its not even funny jhdf but it just puts an emphasis on the sentence #honorary read more tag bc damn i talk a lot #i should make a post about danny's relationship with red huntress in the clone^2 au because i like to imagine that's different too #anyways danny and wes' dynamic in clone^2 brings me a lot of joy. they get stuck in a room together and danny gets the biggest grin ever #and wes stares at him before going completely deadpan 'im in hell'. he's being dramatic and only slightly for real.#also im not sure WHAT damian does - honestly the most extreme thing i can think of is him breaking into wes' house and threatening him #but wes has called him danny's 'demonic little brother' ever since. sOMEbody has to give him his 'demon' nickname its just not gonna be #danny or jazz who do it. anyways damian fully supports messing with wes and anyone else who has a crush on danny

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ahli-stuff · 2 months ago

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I didn't want to make the reblog chain any longer but I just wanted to say I actually don't consider Fyodor's attachment to Dazai as one sided because of this statement from Asagiri: "There are rare moments when Dazai shows his very “human” side. That is when he talks to another superhuman who is on the same level with him. The other is when he talks about his old friend who has passed." But like you mentioned, they're on opposite sides so they're totally doomed hehe. Some fyozai fans like to create AUs where Dazai convinces Fyodor to embrace goodness, but I like thinking about the reverse where Fyodor convinces Dazai to embrace evilness. 😈Imagine how terrifying that would be to have the both of them as antagonists? Nobody would be able to stop them.

AH, hello rblogger! It’s funny that you said you didn’t want to make the reblog chain longer, because I was making a another separate post in my drafts for that exact same reason. This is the current tag of that post:

And that quote! I’ve never seen it before, that’s so interesting! It recontextualizes what I previously thought about about Dazai’s feelings towards Fyodor. Funny how a certain redhead isn’t included in the people Dazai shows his “human side” to, isn’t it? (I’m sorry skk shippers please don’t kill me.)

To me, it seems that there are two faces to Dazai’s “human” side. There is the part of him that good be traditionally considered “good” and the part of him that could be traditionally considered “evil.” A paraphrased version of a quote I almost remember by heart, is when Oda tells Dazai: “if it makes no difference to you whether you kill or save people in this world, be on the side that saves people.”

In the context of the quote you mentioned and the one I just did, Fyodor represents “kill” and Oda represents “save,” the two ends of the spectrum of what kind of “human” Dazai could be.

With this information, I would consider fyozai’s dynamic requited, but I also think… that’s only if Oda’s character ceases to exist.

I firmly believe that in every universe that Oda and Dazai exist, Dazai chooses Oda. Above Fyodor, above Chuuya, above Atsushi, above the armed detective agency, above the entire world—Dazai will screw up the lives of everybody as long as he can save Oda.

This is evidenced in the Beast universe: a world where Dazai does exactly that.

It could then be plausibly believed that Fyodor and Dazai have a chance at being ride-or-die partners in crime in an alternate universe where Dazai exists and Oda doesn’t—but I highly doubt that. Dazai and Oda’s fates are so intertwined across universes that in every universe where Dazai lives, Oda dies. The opposite is also true; in the only universe that Oda lives, Dazai dies.

Out of billions of universes, the only one where Oda lives, Dazai must die. I argue this shows the sheer extent to which Dazai and Oda’s fate are intertwined, and because they are intertwined, Oda is a central part of Dazai’s character development in every universe.

Of course Dazai being friends with Fyodor and Dazai being friends with Oda aren’t mutually exclusive things, but any kind of relationship Dazai would willingly entertain with Fyodor would always be colored by Oda’s influence, if you know what I mean?

It’s like… having a very memorable ex, even though I don’t ship Odazai.

It is my of my opinion, canonically, that Oda is the only person with the capacity to significantly change Dazai. That is what I mean by Fyodor and Dazai’s dynamic being unrequited—it could be requited, Fyodor understands Dazai, so he could theoretically change him, but it will never be to the degree that Oda changes Dazai. I believe Dazai will always put Oda’s words above everyone else’s, and I believe Oda exists in every universe Dazai exists in.

#asks #bungou stray dogs #oda sakunosuke #dazai osamu #fyodor dostoevsky #fyozai #analysis #bsd #all this to say… I am a rabid fyozai shipper #if you scroll through my account it is the only bsd content I have to offer 😭#me: someone who definitely cares about canon too much for someone who wants to smash Barbie dolls together #exclusive friendships are dumb btw I don’t condone those #they’re also codependent #but to me fyodor seems like a ride or die kind of guy so he I figure he’d go crazy that Dazai is already that way but for exactly (1) perso #and yes!! god fyozai team up would end the world so quickly it would be glorious to watch #dead Apple was a DREAM I tell you #see ok if Oda didn’t ever exist as a character then fyodor would absolutely be the man to make Dazai infinitely worse

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ihaveathingforwomen · 3 months ago

Text

Mock Trial - Professor AU

Professor!Alex Cabot x Fellow!Casey Novak

Chapter 8 - Masterlist

Word Count: 5.8k

Summary: Liz figures out who Alex's ethical dilemma is. Alex and Casey reconvene.

A/N: For the outfits in the holiday party: Casey's red suit in Season 8, ep "Pretend" and Alex's black blouse thing in Season 10 ep "Lead." alsooooooo prepare for smut the next chapter :)

The next three days felt like hell on earth for both Alex and Casey. Despite her new emotional burden, Casey now also had to study for and take her final exams. All of which are detrimental to her success for the next two years at least. To create enough room in her consciousness, Casey resorted to ignoring the problem. Alex sent numerous texts and attempted many phone calls in an earnest effort to apologize and offer an opportunity to discuss the issue. Casey ignored them, even when Charlie read them and encouraged her to respond.

That night, she went to his apartment and detailed what had happened. As any good friend would do, he kindly asked, “what the fuck?” She then went on to explain that as badly as she wants Alex, she’s more afraid of ruining their careers. Charlie initially wanted to call it a load of horseshit, but he elected to validate her concerns instead. He decided that after finals, he would reassure her they could be together and not ruin their careers. Until then, he planned to have her back on the issue.

Conversely, Alex didn’t attempt to talk to anyone else that night. She sent her messages and decided that she would give Casey space, at least until the morning. No sleep came to her that night, her mind full of regret and concern. Compulsively, she felt the need to call Casey for help falling asleep. Each day she started with darker circles, her eyes sunken deeper than before. Liv came over, trying to coax her out of bed with ice cream and sitcoms. When her methods were fruitless, she called George in for an ‘intervention’ of sorts. The three of them sat on Alex’s couch in sweatpants and stared at the blank tv screen, waiting for Alex to speak. When she eventually did, all she could whisper was, “what did I do wrong?” before bursting into sobs. They held her close and George attempted to talk her through what had happened and what may be going on in Casey’s mind.

That Monday, Alex composed herself and decided she would make a point to see Casey, even if they didn’t speak. Seeing her would be better than nothing. Casey, however, wanted nothing more than to see Alex, though she wouldn’t let herself do such a thing. She refused to seek her out. Fortunately, the universe had plans for both of them. Just as Alex parks, she spots Casey walking towards the entrance to the building. She gets out of her car hurriedly and follows, trying to get closer before saying anything in hopes of avoiding a scene.

A few feet away, Alex began walking faster, “Casey?” She calls out. The redhead doesn’t turn around and instead marches forward in the brisk cold, her jacket collar turned upwards against the wind.

“Casey, wait,” Alex calls out again, this time closer.

Casey pauses and allows Alex to catch up, turning towards her. “What?” She whispers hoarsely.

“Can we talk?” Alex pleads

Casey furrows her brow in frustration, using her arms to gesture to the public nature of their conversation, “here? Seriously, Alex?”

Alex shrugs, her eyes sad, “we can talk in my office.”

Casey notices how dark the circles around her eyes have gotten, sure she hadn’t slept since their last phone call. “No,” she asserts and continues walking towards the building. Alex walks beside her. Because of the early hour of Casey’s final, not many people are walking around campus, making it easier for them to walk and talk without their emotions being spotted.

Inside the building, Alex strikes up again. “We don’t have to talk about what happened,” she tries to reason, her tone hopeful. “Just about anything, please?”

Casey’s heart aches, yearning for Alex’s company, for her solace during this stressful week. She concedes with caution, “what about?”

Alex smiles as they approach the elevator. Casey reaches out and presses the button, Alex watching her with beaming eyes. “Are you going to the holiday party on Thursday?”

Casey furrows her brow as the elevator dings, opening for them. They step in and Casey presses the button for her floor, Alex pressing her button afterwards. “Yes, why?”

“Do you need a ride?”

Casey rolls her eyes. She would love to ride with Alex instead, but until there was time to resolve their issue, she was going to avoid it. “No, I’m carpooling with Charlie.”

“Oh,” Casey registers defeat in Alex’s tone. They allow for a few seconds of silence in the elevator, until Alex turns towards her. Casey follows suit and their gazes meet, locking for a moment before their eyes drift lower. “Can I ask you something?” Alex inquires.

Casey’s response is automatic, “yes,” her eyes glued to Alex’s peach-toned lips.

“When can we talk about it?”

Casey’s eyes unstick themselves and glare into Alex’s eyes. “You’re relentless,” she states spitefully. Alex shrugs, hoping for an answer to the question. “After the holiday party.”

Alex grins as Casey turns back to face the elevator door. “I have another question.”

Casey turns her neck slowly, glaring impatiently. Alex licks her lip, her eyes still stuck on Casey’s mouth, “Can I kiss you?”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Alex?” Casey snaps at the same time the elevator doors slide open, revealing Elizabeth Donnelly, whose eyes widen at what she heard.

With the couples’ heads facing the entryway, Casey feigns a smile and happy face, “Hi, Professor Donnelly.”

Elizabeth steps inside the elevator, the doors closing slowly behind her. “Aren’t we awful chummy with our professors, Miss Novak?” Casey smiles awkwardly, unsure how to proceed as Liz keeps her back to the elevator doors. “What final are you heading to?”

Casey gulps, keeping her eyes trained on the other professor. “Capital Punishment,” she answers.

Liz nods her head in an approving manner, “That makes sense for your career path. Professor Schreiber says you’re faring well so far.”

Casey nods lightly, “thank you.”

Liz turns towards Alex, smirking, “what are you doing here today? I thought you weren’t proctoring any finals?”

“Oh,” Alex begins, nervous laughter at the top of her throat, “I just came in to catch up on paperwork.”

Liz squints her eyes with suspicion, “I’m going to come by your office this afternoon.”

Alex nods in agreement as the elevator pings. Casey starts to scoot her way out, practically running from the situation at hand. Liz makes a face at Alex as she steps off of the elevator as well. Behind them, the elevator doors close on Alex. Casey snuck off to the side, focusing on her breathing.

Liz spots her and approaches, placing her hand on Casey’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Novak. We’ve all fallen for the Cabot Magic,” she pats her shoulder and makes her way down the hallway. Casey’s face runs a bright scarlet and a wave of nausea runs through her.

----------

That afternoon, Liz made good on her promise and arrived at Alex’s office to find her sifting through papers. She made no effort to knock, coming in and closing the door behind her.

Alex glances up, not paying attention when she recognizes her visitor, “hi,” she mutters over her papers.

“It’s Novak, isn’t it?” Liz asserts, setting her stuff down with a smug look on her face.

Alex looks up, wide eyed and surprised. “What?”

Liz laughs genuinely, “don’t play me. Your behavior on the elevator said it all.” She approaches Alex with her arms crossed against her chest. “Your ethical dilemma, it’s Novak.” She nods, proud of herself, the smug look smeared all over her face.

Alex swallows and takes a deep breath. “Yes…it is,” her tone is hesitant as she admits her sin.

Liz guffaws, sighing as she sits down in front of Alex’s desk. “Of all the students for you to pick, you’re very lucky it’s her.”

Alex furrows her brow and leans forward, “What do you mean?”

Liz leans forward, resting her arms on the desk and clasping her hands into a fist. She licks her lips and looks Alex in the eye. “You both are more valuable to the university than you know.” Alex tilts her head to the side, trying to understand. Liz continues confidently, “They are not going to expel one of their best students or fire one of their best instructors simply because two consenting adults decide to get into a relationship.”

“But it’s against the bylaws, Liz. I could get her in serious trouble,” Alex starts to object.

Liz leans back in her seat, waving her hand back and forth so as to dismiss Alex’s objection. “This university cares far more about politics and statistics than it does its own bylaws, Alex.” She crosses her leg over her knee, resting her elbow on top. “Do you know how much money your name alone has brought to the university?” Alex shakes her head, confused, her eyes sad as she listens. “A lot.”

Liz uncrosses her legs and leans forward, wagging a finger at Alex, “Do you know Casey’s class ranking?”

Alex scoffs, shaking her head, “No, I never thought to ask.”

Liz widens her eyes skeptically, “she may not know. After spring semester grades, she’s in the top ten. Not ten percent, ten, Alex. Rumor has it she’s applying to the New York City District Attorney’s office,” she exhales. “Myself and Dean Petrovsky have already received a few calls from them with glowing interest.”

Alex’s face falls, conflicted at the thought of Casey leaving, at the thought of Casey going to her origin. “What are you saying, Liz?” Alex whispers, her face expressing confusion and concern.

“I’m saying,” she crosses her arms on top of her knees as she stares up at Alex, hoping to offer solace to the apparent tension that she and Casey are experiencing. “Neither of you have to worry about your careers. Now, don’t go advertising your relationship, but you don’t have to stay away forever.”

Alex nods, taking a deep breath through her nostrils. The reassurance is helpful, but still does not resolve the issue at hand. “I don’t even know if she feels the same, Liz.”

Liz laughs, “Alex, the tension between you both and the way she looked at you,” she takes a deep breath, “or rather, didn’t look at you, in the elevator tells me she feels the same. When we got off of the elevator, her face was beet red. Maybe that’s because of me, but…” she smiles wide at Alex, “I think it’s because of you.”

Alex leans back in her seat, her hand covering her mouth and chin as she thinks. “She told me ‘not now,’ what does that mean to you Liz?” Alex asks, her tone mistakenly defensive, though Elizabeth knows she’s being genuine. Alex has always struggled with taking things for what they are.

“I think it means just that.” Liz starts to stand, Alex’s eyes following her. She now notices just how sunken in they’ve become since they last spoke. “She’s taking some pretty important finals and she’s at a detrimental point in her life right now. You can’t tell me you’ve lost perspective, Alex.”

Alex’s eyes flick downward in thought. The most obvious explanation had never come to mind between her own dwelling on the situation and with her friends’ advice. She sighs, a soft smile rising to her cheeks as she leans back against her chair. “Thank you,” she whispers to Liz.

Liz gathers her things and starts back towards the door, “of course, Alex. Let me know how it goes.” Without another word, her companion slips through the door and disappears.

A couple of seconds later, Alex’s phone dings. When she checks it, her face lights up, relief washing over her as she had been kicking herself.

Casey <3: I finished my Capital Punishment final

While the message isn’t much, Alex still feels a sense of repose as she gazes lovingly at the photo beside it. She messages her back, quick to offer a listening ear in hopes that Casey will talk. On the other end, Casey steps into her apartment, collapsing on her bed. With one final out of the way, Casey starts to allow emotions to trickle in. The conglomerate of emotions bubbles inside her chest, the ingredients of heartache, desire, frustration, and excitement becoming explosive together. Her body longs for the kiss again, feeling the tingle of Alex’s lips on her own. Her stomach aches when she remembers Alex’s reaction: the devastated look in her eye, the trembling lip, her scrunched eyebrows. Her arms tense at the frustration of Alex’s stunt in the elevator, unsure what exactly Professor Donnelly had meant by the Cabot Magic. And excitement bursts in her chest in anticipation of the holiday party and when she’ll talk to Alex.

Casey continued to push down the emotions throughout the week, electing to push through her finals. To alleviate some of the emotional distress, she resumed texting Alex, so long as the conversation did not touch the topic of the kiss. It seemed to her that Alex was content with her answer as she did not bring up the topic again. Meanwhile, Alex respected Casey’s decision with her newfound understanding. She couldn’t stop tearing herself down, though, still in disbelief that she had been so oblivious. To keep herself from dwelling, she tried to imagine what she would say to Casey when the moment came.

The week finally came to an end, with Casey’s last final in Trial Practice taking place the afternoon before the holiday party. Throughout the final, she felt self-conscious but ignored it, Alex’s words of praise and encouragement replaying in her mind as she conducted her open argument and cross-examination. Once she’d completed her part, she felt a weight lift off of her shoulders and the excitement begin to overflow. When the examination process was over, everyone left the faux courtroom, with the exception of the professors who played their parts as witnesses. Professor Donnelly, Dean Petrovsky, Professor Schreiber, and Professor Ridinour, all stayed behind.

“Casey,” Petrovsky calls just as she starts walking out of the room. She spins on her heel, a question written on her face. Petrovsky waves her over to the group of professors. She smiles awkwardly at her professors, her dimples ever present as she approaches them, standing in a semi-circle around her.

“Dean,” she begins, looking around at them, “I’ve had this dream before only I was naked,” she comments awkwardly, deflecting her anxiety with humor.

Petrovsky sighs and the other professors snicker, looking between each other. Ridinour turns towards her first, “We just wanted to tell you that you did a tremendous job with your cross-examination.”

“Absolutely wonderful,” Schreiber agrees.

“Did you have someone to practice with?” Petrovsky questions.

“I practiced with Charlie Hammons,” she responds sheepishly.

“Did someone give you pointers?” Donnelly questions her.

Casey’s face turns bright red as she looks between her professors and the dean. “Oh, um…” she starts, her eyes finally landing on Donnelly, her ears ringing, “Professor Cabot let me run through it with her a few times.”

Donnelly smirks, the others smile and Ridinour responds, “lucky you. She was quite the prosecutor in the DAs office.”

“You’ve got a great mentor, kid” Schreiber comments, patting her shoulder as he walks past her. Ridinour and Petrovsky follow, praising her as they leave.

Donnelly, the last to leave the room, places her hand on Casey’s shoulder and guides her out. Casey’s hands start to shake but she keeps them clasped around the handle of her small briefcase. “How are you feeling?” Donnelly probes.

Casey turns and scans her face as they walk down the empty hallway of the building. “Fine,” she responds cooly.

Donnelly stops them in the middle of the empty hallway, turning so they stand face to face. “Schreiber is right. Alex is a good person to have on your side,” Liz states. Alex’s name burns in Casey’s ears as she tries not to react.

She nods, “I agree.”

“Then listen to my advice, Casey,” Liz directs, her cool blue eyes burning through Casey’s as she continues. “Take the time you need to work through your aversions, but don’t let them keep you from being happy.” She nods, smiling softly, then pats Casey’s shoulder before walking down the hallway.

----------

That night, Casey met Charlie at his apartment to get ready. Charlie encouraged her to wear something he deemed “professionally slutty.” He and Melinda went in on a birthday gift for Casey to wear to her first mock trial. He believes an outfit should be worn once before to be sure it doesn’t need any alterations, and this is a more than appropriate opportunity. The outfit is a deep toned maroon linen pants suit, made to be worn with dark heels and a cream colored blouse. To compliment her color palette, Charlie dons a cream colored suit with a red dress shirt and dark colored loafers. When they come out of their opposing rooms to show each other, they both gasp loudly. Charlie claims that Alex will be swooning at the sight of Casey’s suit, especially since he, too, is swooning. Before leaving the apartment, Charlie encourages Casey to indulge in some pregame drinks, which include a few of her favorite shots and shotgunning a couple of beers. Satisfied with his friend’s buzz, Charlie allows them to leave.

At the party, held in a ballroom on campus, the room is decorated with red, white, and gold streamers, flecks of green glitter and decorative poufs everywhere. Along one of the back walls is a long table with an arrangement of finger foods for students and faculty alike to pick off of. In the back corner of the same wall is a bar where guests can have wine and beer for free or purchase mixed drinks of their choice. Casey drags Charlie over to the bar promptly, as her mind is already beginning to buzz in anticipation of Alex’s conversation. While in line, Casey impulsively encourages Charlie to drink with her. He concedes, always happy to have a good time and willing to solve the issue of getting home when the time comes.

They start mingling with their peers, going back for drinks as soon as they finish the ones in their hands. Despite Charlie’s advice, Casey neglects to enjoy the finger food, preferring to drink until she is no longer concerned about Alex. As they try to enjoy their time, Casey can’t help but keep her head on a swivel, searching for Alex in the crowd. Every now and then, Charlie would tease her for it and she would deny it all. Nearing the end of the night, Casey still hasn’t seen Alex and is beginning to feel discouraged. With this unexpected emotion, she begins to request stronger drinks, and finally begins picking at the remaining finger food.

She, Charlie and a couple of their friends linger near the food, picking off of trays any time they feel the need. Suddenly, when Casey has the last of a pig-in-a-blanket stuffed in her cheeks and a dessert between her fingertips, Alex taps her shoulder. She nearly chokes and turns, her head spinning as she does so. Charlie, who is standing next to her, turns and his eyes widen.

“Hi, Alexandra,” Charlie states as Casey whips around to see her.

Alex smiles, her eyes glaring at Charlie, “Hi, Charlie. I’m glad you came to the faculty hosted party,” she quips.

He clears his throat, acknowledging his error, “happy to make it Professor Cabot.”

She smiles, softening her eyes at him and looking down at Casey who appears queasy against the table. “Casey,” she greets, smiling deviously.

Their friends took the hint, stumbling away. Charlie taps Casey’s shoulder before he departs, “good luck, babe,” he whispers.

She responds with a disgruntled ‘hmph,’ before Alex moves closer. Alex slips her hand behind Casey’s back, their physical exchange hidden from the crowd. “Have you been enjoying yourself?” Alex inquires, glancing over her shoulder to study Casey’s features.

Casey turns towards Alex, finally taking a moment to observe her appearance. Alex, wanting to draw attention from her eyes, chose to wear a sleek black dress. The piece goes past her legs, the sleeves flow along her arms, and is topped off with a tight turtleneck feature. Her mind swimming with impulse, Casey doesn’t stop herself when she starts to think about leaving hickeys beneath the turtleneck. She also doesn’t know to stop herself when Alex smirks upon finding her staring at her throat.

“Casey,” Alex says a little louder, her fingertips pressing harder into Casey’s back.

Casey’s eyes seem to awaken as she looks up at the blonde with a dumb smile on her face. “Yes?”

Alex giggles, “have you been enjoying yourself?” She repeats.

Casey nods, “mhmm,” she murmurs. She looks back down, her eyes tracing Alex’s dress. She pauses at her chest and hips, the dress appearing much tighter than she had initially perceived.

Alex watches as the younger woman scans her with a hungry gaze, grinning at her. “How much have you had to drink, Casey?” The scent of liquor radiates off of Casey’s clothing, her face scarlet red and clammy, her eyes a faint shade of red.

Casey slowly pulls her gaze up to meet Alex’s, “not much,” she claims.

Alex smiles and leans into Casey’s ear, “Are you sure about that, darling?”

Casey whimpers, leaning her ear into Alex’s hot breath. “No…” she whispers.

Alex turns away from her, and Casey does the same. Now, both facing the crowd, they survey the remaining guests of the evening. No one seemed to pay them much attention, which relieves them both. Alex walks her fingertips further around Casey’s back, sneaking her way around her waist. Alex keeps her head forward as she speaks to Casey, “do you want to talk about what happened?”

Casey giggles, her eyes swimming as she tries to study the people in front of her. “Talk about it?” She slurs.

Alex nods, glancing over her shoulder, “Yes, do you?” She repeats.

Casey looks over her shoulder, eyes catching Alex’s for a second, before they lower and linger along Alex’s lips. Her own lips begin to burn with impulse, craving Alex’s on top of them. “Not talk,” she says at first. Alex narrows her gaze as if to question Casey further. Casey, seeming to just be pondering her next words, continues. “Can we feel out the problem?”

At first, Alex remains confused, but when Casey licks her lips she recognizes Casey’s attempt to insinuate an alternative to talking. Alex runs her tongue over her bottom lip and grins, turning away when her cheeks start to burn. She takes a deep breath, unsure whether she should maintain her impulse control or follow through with Casey’s suggestion. She slips her hand from Casey’s waist, shocking her out of her haze. She stands in front of Casey and reaches out to take her hand. Once in her grasp, she cautiously leads her away from the crowd. In a more secluded corner, one far from any watchful eyes, Alex presses herself against the wall. Casey, stumbling towards her, smiles wide as Alex guides her hands to her hips. With Casey’s warm fingertips against her, she cups her elbows, bringing her closer.

Casey gazes into Alex’s eyes beneath her, stars in her own as she leans in to Alex. “This suit looks stunning on you,” Alex whispers into Casey’s ear, her tone deep and alluring.

Shivers run down Casey’s spine and she bites her lip, feeling the blood rush to her head. “You know what would make it look better?”

Casey lets her fingertips slide further onto Alex’s hips, gripping them and holding her against the wall. Alex feels heat spread between her legs and in her hips as she watches Casey’s hungry eyes turning into starving orbs. “What?” Alex giggles out at Casey’s dumb smile.

Casey stumbles forward, pressing her lips against Alex’s ear. “If it was on your bedroom floor,” she slurs out with a sigh, trying her best to kiss her way down Alex’s neck.

For a second, Alex allows herself to lean her head back and let a low groan seep from her throat. As Casey gets closer, the scent of alcohol returns, piercing Alex’s nose and making her nauseous. She gently pushes Casey off of her, smiling brightly as she cups Casey’s cheek in reassurance.

“I couldn’t agree more,” she responds, looking Casey up and down. As she scans, she sees that Casey’s face is bright red, her skin clammy, and she’s wobbly on her feet. Alex determines then that they can’t proceed, as Casey clearly cannot consent. She strokes Casey’s cheek as she carefully peels Casey’s hands from her hips, standing straight as she assumes the dominant position. “How about we get you some water and you come home with me? How does that sound, Case?” Alex suggests, her tone sweet and concerned.

Casey smiles, nodding quickly as her hands cup Alex’s face and she sways. “I like going home with you,” she mumbles. Alex, trying to remain composed, puts her hands on Casey’s shoulders and guides her away from the corner, towards the exit. With Casey turned towards the exit, Alex puts one hand around her waist and the other on her bicep, trying to guide the stumbling woman towards the cold air of December.

Casey suddenly halts before reaching the door, causing Alex to nearly fall to the ground. “Waitwaitwait, Alex,” Casey blurts, her words tumbling out.

“Yes?” Alex asks.

“What about Charlie? Hewassonice, he droveme here,” Alex struggles to understand the last of Casey’s words, but realizes what she means, recalling that she’d stated Charlie was going to be taking her to this event.

Alex takes a deep breath, “okay, let’s get you settled and I’ll go find him. Okay?” Casey mumbles some form of response and allows Alex to guide her back into the crowded room. Alex surveys the room, searching for a trustworthy face. Finally, her eyes land on Liz, who spots her as well. She waves her over and Liz saunters to them, her pants suit sleek and dark, complimenting her light hair.

When she arrives at the couple, she glances at Casey before Alex, tilting her head curiously. “Are you helping her to a cab, professor?” Liz asks discreetly.

“Not quite yet, could you watch her for a moment? She’s had a lot more to drink than I thought and she asked me to make sure her friend is okay.”

Liz nods, taking Casey’s hand and guiding her to a secluded table nearby, hoping to keep her calm and talking. “Which friend?”

Alex helps Casey to sit at the table, Liz taking the seat across from her and greeting herself. Alex leans down to Casey, pushing her hair behind her ear, “I’m going to get you some water first, okay?” She informs her. Casey smiles lovingly and nods. Alex turns to Liz, “Charlie Hammons, have you seen him?”

Liz nods and turns her head, looking past Alex at the door behind her, “there he is.” Alex thanks her, turning to the non-alcoholic drink dispensers next to the food tables. She retrieves water for Casey, as promised, and delivers it before disappearing to take care of Charlie. Meanwhile, Liz takes the opportunity to distract Casey. She inquires about what courses she’ll be taking in the spring and where she’s applied to for jobs, and when those inquiries no longer contained her, she questioned her about how her finals went. This lead to Casey openly venting about her issues with Professor Taft, causing Liz to belly laugh and follow up with concurring comments about his teaching skills.

Finally, Alex returns, slightly disheveled as she’d struggled to get Charlie into the cab. She made sure to speak with the driver, paying in advance for Charlie’s ride and giving her extra on the condition she ensures he makes it safely up to his floor. Fortunately, Charlie had not been as bad off as Casey appeared to be, though he was much more energetic as he tried to question Alex about her situation with Casey. She skillfully dodged the questions and made her way back inside to her young lover.

When she arrives at the table, Liz sees her first, glancing past Casey. Casey recognizes this and turns around, nearly falling from her chair. Alex smiles back when she sees Casey turned around, grinning excitedly at her. As she approaches, she puts her hand on Casey’s back, looking up at Liz and mouthing a ‘thank you.’ Liz nods and Casey turns around, extending a limp hand.

Liz smiles, choking back a chuckle as she takes Casey’s hand and shakes it. “Thankyoufor talking to me,” she offers, her words running together as though she was attempting to say them as quickly as possible.

“Of course, Novak. Be safe, please.”

Casey stands, her hand immediately going to Alex’s waist. “We’ll use protection, I promise,” Casey states. The clearest sentence she’d uttered to Liz the whole evening. Alex’s face burns and she takes Casey’s arms, rushing her out of the building. Casey giggles the whole way, and they turn contagious the closer they get to Alex’s car.

Their drive to Alex’s apartment is a short one, but not uninteresting by any means. Casey started to feel restless: tapping on the center console, singing along poorly with whatever was on the radio, making any noise that came to mind, and begging to bite Alex’s arm. Alex was unbothered by the whole ordeal, more intrigued by her behavior than anything. She rested her hand on Casey’s thigh, only retracting it whenever Casey asked to bite it. She didn’t concede until they arrived in her apartment’s parking garage, and immediately regretted it as she left a deep bite mark in her forearm.

The elevator ride up to Alex’s apartment was intriguing as well. They were not the only ones on the ride up, unfortunately. But that did not stop Casey from wrapping her arm around Alex’s waist, her hand drifting down to touch her ass. Alex smacked her hand away the first couple of times but refrained after the fact, deciding she enjoyed the attention. On Alex’s floor, Casey followed close like an excited puppy, looking over Alex’s shoulder any chance she had and touching her more than that.

Inside the apartment, Casey went straight to Alex’s bedroom. Toby excitedly emerged from his hiding place and followed her, trotting along. Alex rolled her eyes, locking the door behind her and going to the kitchen to get a bottle of water and aspirin for Casey to take. Having gathered them, she made her way to her bedroom to find Casey laying on the floor, on her side as she pet Toby’s long fur.

Upon seeing Alex, Casey groans as she tries to rise up from the floor. Alex walks up to her and bends her knees, lowering down to hand her the glass and aspirin. She coaches Casey as she takes them, giving her the glass and asking her to finish it. When she does, Casey stares up at Alex with stars in her eyes and butterflies (or maybe it’s the alcohol) in her stomach. “You’re so beautiful…” She whispers to Alex, a dumb smile on her face.

Alex grins, “thank you,” she responds as she stands to put away the glass. This time when she returns to her room, Casey is vertical and stuck trying to take off her dress shirt.

Alex sighs, approaching her with caution. She places her hands on Casey’s hips, eliciting a yelp from the drunk woman. “Hold still, let me help you,” Alex instructs. Casey does as she’s told and Alex pulls her arms down, returning the shirt back to its normal position. She starts unbuttoning it for Casey, pulling it off of her shoulders, revealing a soft white bra beneath. Alex swallows as she tries not to stare at her breasts, taking Casey’s shirt and folding it, draping it on her arm. Casey, with her now free arms, reaches and takes Alex’s face in her palms. She tilts Alex’s head upward and pulls their lips together clumsily.

A surprise yelp comes from Alex as she kisses her back apprehensively. She holds Casey’s hand to her face and then gently pulls apart, her smile subsiding. Casey whines, trying to pull them back together, but Alex holds her ground. “Casey, no,” Alex tells her.

Casey looks at her with wide, sad eyes, tears starting to build up in them. “Why not?” She mumbles, the alcohol ever present on her breath.

Alex gives her a sympathetic look, “Because you’re drunk…As much as we both want it, you can’t consent. Okay?”

Casey turns and flops onto the bed, screaming into the comforter. Alex chuffs and moves to sit next to her, rubbing her back gently. Under Alex’s fingertips, Casey’s skin is warm and soft to the touch. Casey rolls over onto her back, eyes filled with tears, a couple making their way down her cheeks. Alex looks at her pitifully, “What’s wrong, Case?”

Casey, on the verge of sobbing, croaks out a response, “I’m frustrated.” She sniffles, wiping her eyes with her fingers.

Alex turns towards her, pulling her legs onto the bed. “What are you frustrated about?” Alex asks her, brushing the hair from Casey’s cheek and then stroking it softly with the back of her fingers.

Casey takes big breaths, her chest heaving like a toddler about to have a tantrum. “I want you so bad,” she cries.

Alex smiles, her cheeks blushing, and she takes a deep breath, looking away from Casey to keep herself from crying in frustration. “I’m sorry, baby,” the term rolls off of her tongue with ease and without hesitation.

Casey rolls onto her side and puts her hand on Alex’s knee, squeezing to stimulate herself as more tears fall. “Why can’t I have you?”

Alex sighs as a smile spreads past her cheeks, “You can have me,” she whispers as she looks down into Casey’s tearful eyes. “We’re going to talk about it tomorrow. When you’ve sobered up, alright?” She nods, suggesting that Casey agree.

Casey lifts her torso from the bed and scoots closer to Alex. Alex adjusts herself to a more comfortable position, relaxing against the pillows and stretching her legs, the tight dress loosening. Casey’s eyes twinkle as she meets Alex’s gaze. “Really?” Disbelief and relief were apparent in her voice.

Alex nods, her smile softening as she watches the weight fall off of Casey’s shoulders. Casey takes a deep breath crawling up to Alex, her frame still wobbly as her vision swims. Not making it far, she collapses on Alex’s lap, resting her head there and slowly moving her body to the side. Alex accepts that she won’t be moving for some time and starts playing with Casey’s hair, brushing it behind her ear and running her fingers through the red strands. Eventually, Casey’s breaths become even and her mind quiet.

#casey novak #alex cabot #alexandra cabot #calex #casey novak x alex cabot #alex cabot x casey novak #professor au #Mock trial #law and order svu #svu #law and order svu fanfiction #svu fanfiction #elizabeth donnelly

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siobhans-world · 9 months ago

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It's been quiet on the art front for me, because I'm giving fanfiction a go and I'm enjoying myself 😁

I have uploaded the third chapter of my first Good Omens Human AU today to AO3: Telling tall tales.

Summary:

A lonely Aziraphale agrees to help his best friend Maggie appear 'straight' in front of her family, by pretending to date her. But things get complicated when he sees everything he’s ever wanted. He falls for her family and a certain beautiful redheaded cousin.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53848096/chapters/136294060

I'm thinking, I'm hoping to create some fan art that goes with it in future, but I'll probably wait until we reach the cute parts 🥰

Who knows? I'm having fun anyway

#ineffable husbands #crowley #aziracrow #aziraphale #gomens #ineffable spouses #good omens #aziraphale x crowley #good omens fanfiction #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #maggie good omens #nina and maggie #good omens fanart

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romanoffsbish · 1 year ago

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Castles Crumbling

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

Natasha x Wanda / Others

Valkyrie x F!R

Royal AU Request | Natasha never was a fan of rules, so when sets were placed upon her love she pushed against them… Now she wonders if it’s too late to make it right again. | WC: 7,550

Warning: “Unrequited” Love | Jealousy | Mean Fuckboy Natasha / Sad R | Abusive Parents / Fucked Systems | HE!

Minors DNI | 18+

“Natalia, keep your chin up," Melina scolded her daughter who was too busy glaring across the ballroom to even acknowledge her mother fixing up her gown. The strap had suddenly tethered, if not for Melina's resourcefulness she'd have had to hold an apology in front of the kingdom for her daughter, the heiress to the throne's, albeit unintentional, lack of modesty.

Natasha's eyes stayed trained on you, who was giggling at a slightly older woman's words. You were her fiancée, yet there you stood enraptured by another's presence as if they hung the moon and stars for you.

———

The redhead had no throne to sit upon though, she very well knew that, this unbearable distance forged between soulmates was one she herself created half a decade ago. She'd regretted it from the start, living without your love was lonely, and in this moment she felt the regret double at the thought of losing you fully.

You were once hers, exclusively so...

The two of you were the best of friends until she found out the intense love she held for you wasn't meant to be organically woven. Instead, the two of you'd already been signed up for a life together, something she should have seen as a gift, but the idea that you were only ever going to be hers due to legalities broke her.

To think, had she and Yelena been born in reverse that it'd be a much different fate. The redhead loathed the idea that such a system would exist in the first place and vowed to never place that pressure on your kids.

The kids she now wondered if you'd still share...

Natasha, in her state of grief has been blinded to the familiar turmoil you'd also experienced. It had gutted you when your parents said you were in line to marry the Romanov's heir, to keep strong alliances between your Kingdoms. To have the Romanov name was a dream come true, but to have no say in it upset you just the same. Yet you were ready to live life the same, to continue to fall in love with your supposed destiny and to thank fate for guaranteeing your forever bond.

Natasha regrettably went the other route, letting her resentments fester, and in turn she pushed you away. It wasn't gradual either, you were really confused by the dynamic switch—it was like night to day, and for years you were faced with her venomous demeanor. Animosity that was rooted in falsehoods still hurt just the same, and now you two couldn't be further apart.

Just like the strap of her emerald gown, she worried that the tie between your confused hearts was near to severing. Natasha could actually feel her heart splitting at the thought, she never considered her horrid actions would lead to an eventual permanent loss of you.

But now that she sees the web she's sown she gets it.

For the last five years shortly after you hit puberty, you had to watch as the woman you wholeheartedly adored became a stranger that thrived on promiscuity. To hear about it too as the women of the kingdom never minced words about their nights with her, and with each rendezvous you lost more hope for a joyful forever with her. Natasha buried herself in other woman, and actually thought you'd just wait patiently for her to come back, but clearly you'd grown tired of it.

You once thought it was just a rebellious phase, many heirs to thrones go through them, and you knew Nat was a free spirit. You even understood her want to be free, to see whomever she wanted in her youth. It was a natural curiosity you didn't indulge in though, because your heart only beat for the redhead, but you never asked her not to have explored it. Especially because she was never going to listen if you did. Natasha was headstrong, a natural born leader, not so much a lover.

Well, at least not this version of Natasha. She'd lost her once sweet demeanor with you, every interaction turned tense and abrasive. Natasha used to hold doors open for you, now she was purposeful in closing them. As if she was letting you know that her heart was no longer in sync with yours. She'd shut you out entirely, it was the vindictive nature of it all that really broke you down over time, and lead you to this moment of despair. In your youth she was your greatest hope.

— • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • —

"If he doesn't stop staring at you I will have to gouge his icy blue eye's right out of his skull," your best friend grumbled loud enough for the Barnes boy to hear as you both passed him by. "Natalia!" You shrieked, tiny hand flying to your mouth as you tried to hide your smirk of inappropriate amusement. The older princess smirked as she watched you losing your composure. "You can't just say those things!"

Natasha smirked, the gesture entirely teasing, "Why?"

"It's not ladylike." Natasha grinned even wider at the challenge of your words. "Fuck being ladylike."

Natasha threw her head back as she laughed at the sight of your shocked face. Your eyes wide and mouth comical agape. "Natty, we're royals!" The redhead shrugged, and rebutted lowly, her tone chillingly grave, "Yeah, as is he but he doesn't respect us like we are," then she walked further down to the murky body of running water, you followed her in a rush, but in your hurry you tripped over a rock and fell towards the creek with a fearful squeal.

"Careful now detka," Natasha teased as she caught you with ease, using her body to push you up against a tree to have you upright again, and for a second in time you thought—hoped—she might kiss you. But life was cruel in a way as all she did was assess your face for injury before she slid her clammy hand into yours and guided you over to the bundle of rocks. Careful as she helped you climb up first then she settled behind you and the two of you watched the sunset as you did every Sunday to mark the week's cruel end.

— • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • —

Everything was hectic being the children of royalty, especially for you, but with Natasha at your side it was all okay. The redhead always used to sneak you away to the creek that connected the many kingdoms, to where she'd let you play freely, like a kid should. Then as preteens it just became your spot to get away together.

Now it was where you spent your nights alone, talking to the moon and asking her where it all went wrong.

The redhead used to afford you the space to be your true, wild-child self unlike your parents who were far more strict in comparison to hers. Melina and Alexei held their children to high standards, of course, but they also never prevented them from being children.

Your parents were more akin to royal traditionalists in many ways, they believed children were meant to be seen, never heard. To be flaunted like assets, but never loved by anything outside of the hired help, who did their very best, but it's not like they were treated much better than you. To be given away like chattel, and never acknowledged as a person with free will like the commoners were. To never exist outside of the castle's bounds, a prisoner of the most bleak circumstances.

Natasha was your beacon of peace, she had always cherished your friendship, and held you in the highest of regards. Her biggest goal used to be to make you laugh, she'd tell you stories of Yelena's chaos, and on rare occasions she'd even let the blonde tag along so you could feel true joy. Then all of a sudden she cast you away too, you were obviously hurt by her choices, but even with her sudden animosity towards you you'd never shown her anything but respect and kindness.

Fellow royals called you a pushover, others a hopeless case, but truth be told, there were small cracks in her resolve at times that told you she must've still loved you. It was in the glances she'd cast your way when you were usually preoccupied. You'd always look up just in time to catch the traces of longing before her steely composure returned. She also was insanely protective of your womanhood, as if she had any right to claim it.

Like when the older Stark brother tried to get you to follow him to his quarters one night months back when his family was visiting. The redhead followed your naive form, then just as he went to escort you into his room she'd punched him so hard that his nose cracked, and his once white polo was soaked in crimson.

Before you could question anything she spat, "Don't ever try to sleep with my girl again Tony!" Then before you could savor the warmth of her claim to you she swiftly added her hypocrisy: "It ruins the appearance we must keep up for the public." She was gone in a flash, and you apologized to the man before running off to your quarters to sob over the loss of warmth.

It was a consistent cycle too, every time someone like Danvers, or Barnes tried to court you she was there, dauntingly lingering like a viper prepared to snap. Her gaze was always piercing, and they'd learned quickly to run to avoid needing to be physically removed.

Natasha's promiscuity obviously flourished, while your potential was always curbed at every turn. Not only did you hear the women whispering her praises, but just last week, after a pre-nuptials celebratory dinner with all the neighboring kingdoms you watched her leave the follow up gala with Wanda Maximoff, the gorgeous princess of Sokovia, in a fit of drunken giggles. Her brother, Pietro, was the heir marrying your brother.

You've now reasoned that you two would be entering a loveless marriage (on her end), just like your brother. All in the name of diplomacy you'd reminded yourself this morning, so you believed you'd both have your own partners. Which is why you were finally indulging the vivacious soul of Valkyrie, the shockingly single King from the neighboring kingdom of Asgard. She was beautiful in her own right, incomparable to your hearts muse, but undeniably gorgeous nonetheless.

It never once crossed your mind that Natasha would be fuming, and even if you'd maybe known she would be, you didn't really care anymore. This was the game she started, and you're fed up, so you'll gladly play along.

Why should she get to have all the fun?

Melina gripped her daughter's clenched jaw softly, and sighed in annoyance as she had to forcefully bring her gaze down to face her instead of you. "You did this to yourself Natalia, woman up and face the ugly truth that you alonenpushed your beloved into another's arms."

"Mama," Natasha whimpered pitifully, she always hated how serious and practical her mother could be. Never seeing between the lines, or trying to understand the reasons why. "No, there will be no pity from me, your father might coddle you girls, but you broke Y/N too many times for me to sympathize with you. Now fix your face, and go mingle with your people, Queen."

For the next ten minutes the redhead held her head up high, and conversed with the elders in the crowded room. It was the night before you were to be wed, so of course there was a pre-nuptials party. "Where is your fiancée?" Natasha cast her gaze to the corner you were in moments prior only to find it empty. Her body was actively panicking at the prospect of you slipping out, but she kept her voice steady. "I'm sorry, but please do excuse me. I actually need to go find her, she is really good at getting lost in the ballroom after a drink."

The man nodded sympathetically, and Natasha practically sprinted away from him as she frantically looked around. She nearly tripped over the gowns of the attendees as she haphazardly made her way over to you. Her blood boiled as Valkyrie's hands were holding you close by the hips, your gorgeous, genuine smile on display for a woman who held no claim to you.

Natasha was genuinely near to tears when she saw the way the suave woman whispered something humorous into your ear, making you laugh aloud so freely, with your head thrown back and a hand on her shoulder.

Her heart ached at the memories of all the times it was her making you laugh until you cried. She yearned to go back in time with every step she took to get to you, if she could undo her mistakes she would. Oh would she.

"Sweetheart, we've got incoming," the beautiful woman spun you out, and you saw a flash of red before you were back against her chest. Natasha's jaw clenched just the same as yours, how dare she even consider ruining your moment to move on from her once again.

"Y/N, we need to go mingle with the crowd," Natasha tried to grab your arm to pull you away from Valkyrie, but you roughly shrugged her off. "I'm having fun here Romanov, so you can speak for the both of us, you've done well enough at it so far. Feel free to continue on."

Valkyrie leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your cheek and Natasha quietly growled, "Unhand my fiancée Brunnhilde," to which the older woman merely rolled her eyes before she was whispering in your ear again, "Just go and talk to her Y/N, I'll be right here if you need me sweetheart, but don't let her upset you enough that you cause a scene in front of your parents."

You suddenly remembered your place, and silently parted from the woman with a sad smile that actually broke Natasha's resolve. Valkyrie scoffed as pools of brown met hers of green, "You're wasting a good woman," she shook her head and walked off towards the bar leaving the redhead to stew in her shame.

Seeing you so sad to be left alone with her was jarring, then she saw the evil glare of your fathers and wondered if things had gotten worse since she no longer really knew. She'd left you alone, and if she was right, he likely blamed you for her own promiscuity.

She could hear his morose voice clear as day, "Well, if you were more inclined to put out, she'd have stayed." He was always blunt, and degrading—never kind, and to think she'd given him a reason to hurt your feelings devastated her. She'll never really forgive herself.

But for some reason she hoped you still would as she calmly exited the ballroom, her feet moved faster as soon as the doors blocked the patrons view though. All the redhead wanted was to reach you, and apologize.

"What was that Natasha?" You inquired just as soon as she entered your soon to be shared room. "I mean honestly, you have some nerve staking your claim to me as if you even mean it. I am my own person, and quite frankly Romanov I have needs you don't satisfy!"

It was insane what she said next, the woman should be begging on her knees for your forgiveness, like she had planned, but instead she put her foot in her mouth.

"Please tell me you're still a virgin..." Your eyes went wide, and you rightfully scoffed, "And what if I wasn't? Is that a dealbreaker for you Miss Chastity Belt?"

Natasha's eyes welled with genuine tears that made you melt ever so slightly, apparently the idea that you'd given yourself to another devastated her, even if she was a bit of a hypocrite. You too were reacting like you were unwell, feeling warmth at her weak show of love.

"Y/N, please just answer me..." You rolled your eyes, and shrugged nonchalantly. "No, I am not a virgin."

"Fuck!" Natasha collapsed to her knees, her gown layered around her beautifully yet tragic. This was her worst fear. "With who? I-I, please just tell me now."

You rolled your eyes at the dramatics, as if she had any right to question you like this. Still, seeing her broken hurt you, it was truly unfair to you, and even if it would be embarrassing you reached into your bedside table, and threw a worn down painting, and a strap at her.

Natasha's jaw clenched at the sight of the plastic, wondering who took your innocence with the device, picturing their demise, but then she lost her breath as the painting flipped over to reveal her obvious likeness.

"I-I don't understand Y/N," she spoke softly, her head tilted up and you bit back a smile at seeing the confused, adorable little pout that she wore. "It's called steadfast loyalty Natasha, plus, it's not like you didn't run off every prospect I've ever had over the years."

"Y/N, I," she cut her apology off as she sobbed even harder. You wanted to remain furious, but you could feel her pain reflecting in your heart, so you gently caressed her glistening cheek, and weakly smiled. "Get off the floor Nat." The redhead jumped to her feet in seconds and clumsily crashed into you, making your body stumble backwards until you were flat on the bed with the breathtaking woman hovering. The beautiful image of karma unfolded before you, it hurt your heart to see her sad, but you couldn't deny that the flushed skin and glimmering eyes added a layer of palpable attraction to her overall perfection.

The moment was the perfect time for her to finally kiss you, to break that distance, but she once again missed it as she collapsed and cried against your chest," I-I hear the people talk about me like I'm a monster." Natasha paused as she did her best to contain her devastation, but it was no use as she continued to speak in a cracked voice, "They used to chant my name, but now they all hate me, and I deserve it..."

You sighed, reluctant yet ready to console her, but she just kept going, "I hurt the one person I always vowed to protect." Natasha sobbed, but this one caught in her throat as she choked on the brutal honesty. "Oh God," her position shifted and she pressed her forehead against yours. "I never wanted you to hate me!"

"I do—."

"My love..."

"Natasha..."

"What have I done to us?!"

You groaned in frustration, "Are you done with the dramatics? May I speak now?" Natasha froze then squeaked out an mhm. Seeing her submit so easily nearly made you laugh, but this wasn't the time to tease. This was a time to fix what she recklessly broke, and to ensure she knew that to mend this took effort on her part. "Our foundation is undeniably cracked Natasha, but that doesn't mean we can't rebuild to a place of total equity. Remember that I am your partner, and not some consolation prize you can flaunt. You own my heart, yes, but not my mind or body."

"You still want me?" She asked in shock, and flinched as you sadly met her gaze and sighed, "I'm cursed with the inability to love another." Natasha smiled like a kid who just got out of time out, "So we'll rebuild?" You rolled your eyes and nodded, "Our castles very well crumbled but with time we'll build it even stronger."

"I'm so sorry," she tried, but you hushed her with a finger over her lip, tired of the words and more so ready for the action. "I forgive you, it is enough for me that you sobbed on the floor. What a filthy girl..."

Natasha's cheeks flushed and you once again found yourself amused, she was incredibly shy, and not at all like you'd pictured her to be from all the rumors.

"C-can I kiss you then?" You giggled, then allowed her to do so after a moment of recomposing. It was a bit sloppy, but you didn't mind, because she tasted like heaven. With how tentative she was to deepen the gesture you were under the impression that she wanted to slow down, maybe even wait for the wedding night.

After a moment of reprieve was taken you moved to sit you both up, her body forced to straddle yours so as to not fall off the bed. "Wait, please don't stop," Natasha pleaded, her hands connected behind your neck and suddenly she was that same nervous teen again, the one who ran from her feelings. "You're the one with all the experience here Nat." Natasha gnawed on her lip, and bowed her head in a mix of shame, and sadness. "I never kissed their lips, or let them touch me."

"Wait," you momentarily paused to process, "Are you?"

"I'm a virgin in the ways that count," she admitted with her gaze cast down at your lap to avoid your potential expression of judgement. "Look at me Natalia."

There was no room for disobedience, she knew that she was lucky enough to even have your forgiveness, she wouldn't dare try to test your patience as well. It was difficult, but she lifted her head, and her heart skipped at the sight of your soft expression. She felt silly for ever doubting you'd be kind—of course you would be.

Meanwhile in your chest you could feel the way your heart danced with excitement. Not only did you have a leg up on her with experience—thanks to Maria Hill, who made out with you for hours last fall after you'd drunkenly cried about never being kissed, but you also just found out she'd never been pleased by another. It stung less to know you'd be her one and only lover.

In the ways that count of course...

"I can lead," you smirked at the flash of understanding in her eyes, it was only fair that she knew, and honestly it served her right to not be your first everything. The same way you wouldn't be her first encounter, the way her nails dug into the skin of your neck said she got the message. "Who was it with?" The disappointment laced her tone heavily, even with as many times as she'd laid with another, she regarded a kiss more intimately.

"Why ask a question that will only hurt you Nat?" Natasha's jaw clenched, but she kept her temper at bay, not wanting to sound off like a hypocrite would. "It's important to me detka, I deserve this pain."

You contemplated answering her, but were too smart to fall for the bait. You realized that sweet old Maria deserved protection from your stewing bride to be.

"She is irrelevant, just a maid father had hired," you facetiously admitted, "Said that maybe if I learned how to clean from her that maybe I'd be a good wife... I am honestly not sure how he ever bagged my mother. In what world does a Queen clean the fucking castle?"

Natasha gasped, "Y/N, that's not very ladylike..."

"Fuck being ladylike," you mirrored a fond memory, and she couldn't help but to smile, but her eyes grew sad the longer the silence dwelled. "You've changed."

You nodded. "I had no choice. I had to grow up, and when I did I realized life is nothing short of cruel." Natasha hummed and nuzzled her nose to yours. "Does that bother you Nat, that I'm not the same innocent person? I always thought that was why you left..."

"No," she frantically spoke, "I was just being an idiot, too rebellious for my own good, and your heart being caught in the crossfire is my biggest regret to date."

"Biggest regret, hm?" She nodded. "Any others?" Natasha smiled bashfully, her cheeks turning redder than they already were from the current proximity of your bodies. "Not kissing you before the nth hour."

"I'm that good, huh?" Natasha laughed nervously, and you watched as the woman nibbled on her bottom lip. "It's okay to admit it Natasha, it's just you and me."

The redhead surged forward, her forehead collided with yours but you hadn't the time to care about the pain when her lips sought to devour your very own. You once again found your body pressed into the mattress, but this time her tongue took a calculated risk entering your mouth. Once she passed your lips she froze, the feeling and taste of you absolutely drove her mad, and she felt her underwear growing sticky.

Following a natural flow you found your naked bodies were soon pressed together, with your back against the queen sized mattress. Natasha's mind went blank at the feel of you, so she let you take over the kiss that had divulged more so into your collective sharing of breaths as you ground her pelvis down into your own with two firm hands on her silky smooth hips.

Natasha pulled away from your lips with a groan, her back arched and pressed her wetness into yours as she desperately craved more friction against her core. You were ready to grind her hips at a more brutal pace, but then she pressed your hands into the bed and kissed you roughly instead. There was no way she'd be selfish enough to take pleasure before giving you some first.

Her lips naturally traveled down your body, and with each nip of her teeth, or suckle to your bare skin she managed to pull the sweetest of moans from you. It drove her even crazier, her arousal literally dripped onto the sheets beneath her body but she kept her focus solely on you. To taste you was a dream that she had never let go of, and she'd no longer squander.

"Holy shit," you cried as her deft tongue lapped up the moisture that had collected along the slit of your core, it was the softest of stimulation but you still writhed. Having her mouth on your pussy just felt prophetic, her name dripping from your lips like a stolen prayer as she proceeded to dive her muscle deep within you.

Explore as you have, you'd never made yourself feel half as good as her animalistic tongue was doing, which was a bittersweet notion since this was where her obvious experience became a lingering thought.

The sadness dissipated fast though as she tipped your body into a state of unnerving pleasure, your body felt both hot and cold at the same time. The chill in the air had highlighted the beads of sweat on your skin, and sent a sharp shiver down to the base of your spine. It was all too much, and yet, somehow it was not enough.

Natasha greedily slurped up your cum, it was like she couldn't leave her place between your legs until you had stopped spilling for her, which consequently never happened because she continued to overstimulate you. It was only when your hand fought to slip from her weakened grasp to shove her bobbing head away that you were finally able to shakily intake some oxygen.

"I need more," she groaned, her wild eyes bore into your own as she hovered over you in a split second. Even with the overstimulation your thigh clenched at the sight of her hunger. "Please, I need you."

In a moment inspired by pure adrenaline you flipped your bodies and jumped off the bed onto wobbly legs. Natasha grunted as her back hit the mattress, her body was soon propped up onto her elbows so she could find out where you'd gone to in the blink of an eye. Only for her to be met with the glorious sight of you slipping a side of the strap between your puffy, cream coated lips.

Natasha fell back on the bed with a raspy groan being torn from her throat as the deliciously sinful image was permanently etching itself into her mind. Her entrance pulsed with need, warm slick trailed down between the plump cheeks of her ass and she whimpered for you. You clumsily climbed above her, and pressed your lips to hers, feeling this strong urge to take control, but not knowing exactly how to do that, all you could really do was slip your tongue into her mouth and kiss her into a state of desperation. Her tongue was velvety, and tasted like a mix of something sweet and bitter.

"I-I want to taste you too Nat," you confessed, a bit too intrigued by the taste of you on her tongue to hold any patience, but the redhead also couldn't wait. "After, please, I need you inside now detka, I'm dripping!"

You chuckled softly, "That's a virgin hole angel," your eyes sparkled as you watched her skin flush even more, you would've happily waited the rest of the decade for this if you knew she was going to be so easily flustered. "You have to let me build you up to the stretch," you teased her hole with just the tip and she winced, but before you could pull away she firmly gripped your shoulders and gulped down her fear. "I can take it detka, I've been waiting for so damn long, fuck me."

"Beg," you flatly said, an air of confidence to you that the redhead found alarmingly attractive. "Tell me what you want baby, let mommy give you what you need."

Natasha's entire mind blanked, her eyes frozen in place as she stared up at your smirking face. Something inside of her was clicking, and she didn't know if it was her own desires or seeing you living out yours that got her so hot right now, but she didn't care. The sudden confidence radiated off of you and oozed out of her cunt, her pussy slick enough to push your strap out.

"Mommy please," her nails dug into your flesh and she angrily yanked your face down to hers, the tip and then some of your strap nestled back inside of her and she moaned her own interruption against your cheek. "I, fuck, mommy I need to be full, please, I need it so —."

Natasha's breath hitched as you delicately circled your fingers around her clit, then she huffed the air against your smirk as she sucked even more of you in. It was messy, and loud as her cunt sobbed joyously and her moans echoed throughout the master bedroom. In only five seconds did you have the ability to slip the rest of it inside of her, your lips sloppily landed on her chin as the strap perfectly curved against your walls. A gasp of joy left you both as your slippery cunts kissed, flaps rubbing as the both of your hips jolted in need.

Natasha's eyes rolled as your clit brushed hers, and a low rumble sounded in her chest as the swollen nub was electrified by the merest of grazes. The redhead appreciated the way your hips stilled, allowing her to feel out the stretch of her walls, but then you didn't move and her eyes fluttered open to ponder why.

You were nervous... Her heart absolutely melted.

"Just do what feels natural," she rasped, hands raising to cup your cheeks and pull you in for a needy kiss, her fingers slipped into the base of your hair and tugged, you could feel the urgency rolling off of her as her hips canted off the mattress. You both moaned into the other's mouth, it took you a second to recover from the stimulation; to build your confidence back up so you could properly fuck her like no one ever had before.

All it took was one involuntary twitch of your own hips, she moaned and you suddenly knew how to make this the best night of your lives. Natasha whined as you slid out of her, but then she squealed as you yanked her to the edge of the bed and thrusted right back into her.

"Oh god," Natasha cried, "Mommy it feels so good."

"I know baby," you panted, "Mommy loves feeling you, so wet I didn't even need to prep you for my cock."

Natasha's eyes rolled and slammed shut as she thought of what created the glorious mess between her legs; you—the way you moaned her name, how you tasted and what she wouldn't do to live between your thighs.

"I-I," Natasha couldn't speak, the pleasure building inside of her was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Something she knew she'd only ever feel with you, heat spread from the depths of her pelvis to her heart as she imagined getting a second chance to love you, fairly.

You'd been here before, on the precipice of a release you weren't expecting. Your first time, when you used your strap with her portrait was a tad bit messy.

It felt like you were on fire, and like you needed to pee, but even with the potential of such a thing you couldn't stop the thrust of your desperate hips. It was heavenly. You wanted to see her wait, but not as much as you needed to be the reason she thinks she's dying. So you knew by the confused look on her face that she needed to be given permission. "You need to let go baby."

Natasha whimpered, but her body turned down the offer, it wasn't ready, something was missing.

Your hands firmly gripped the skin of her thigh and used your unexpected strength to push them up and into her chest. The new angle was optimal in bringing you both insurmountable amounts of pleasure. You had hardly any warning as her cum drenched your thighs, her walls held the strap still and caused your end to press even deeper into your sensitive spot.

The moan that left Natasha's throat was carnal, anyone within a hundred feet of the room would know that she just had her soul cleansed. Yours directly followed as your pussy spluttered against hers. They were short, and breathy, the heat of them fanned over her racing pulse point and her body shivered with aftershocks.

For a moment you both panted out of sync, yours were far less refined in comparison with the athletes. It'd made you insecure to think about, but the way her hands roamed over your curves was affirming. When she squeezed your hips and soft skin rippled between her fingers you could feel the way she loved you.

Her lips were on yours the entire time she'd been feeling you up. You nearly busted again just because her lips touched yours, there was not much urgency down below as you devoured her whole up above. Then your hips started rocking slowly, a natural rhythm of the game at hand, but then she whimpered softly and you pulled out of her puffy, glistening core. Tears fell from her eyes and you apologized as she thanked you.

Thanked you for fucking her so well that she could barely remember her own name, but she promised she'd never forget how to scream yours. She was overstimulated, but pushing you anyways, so you silenced her with the side of the strap that was once stretching out your tight, hollowed walls. Her eyes glazed as they rolled back, and you felt liberated.

A hoarse, “Oh fuck,” vibrated around the silicone and you chuckled devilishly, reveling in the foreign power, “Such a slut for a little taste of me, aren’t you kitten?”

Her eyes muddled even further and you felt godly. “Tomorrow you'll be sworn in as the leader of our merging kingdoms," you chuckled, "but look at how quickly you submit to me baby, that's concerning."

Natasha whimpered around the strap, and you smiled broadly. "There, there honey," you coo'd mockingly, tongue flicking over the salty tears trailing down her rosy cheeks. "Mommy will take charge for now..."

You continued to fuck her throat with the strap, it was mesmerizing to see her cry, her eyes glistening, sorta reminding you of a lively leaf beneath a raindrop. It was as if you brought her back to life, you could see the love uncovering beneath her outwardly guarded eyes as they bore into yours. Your Natty was reviving…

But her Y/N not so much, there was an unfamiliar darkness that surrounded you. The love you held for her was there, burning bright, but she could see the unresolved pain trying to dim it, the darkness controlled you and the tenderness was broken, as if it was simply switched off. With every thrust the redhead now gagged, there was a bit of vengeance in your eyes as you drew the reaction from her. You were truly enamored by the experience, you watched as her drool trailed down the sides of her chin and coated the skin of her jawline, staining her with a mix of you and her.

The longer you watched the more interested in getting a taste of her essence you became. Without removing your gaze from hers you lowered your head, tongue flicking out to lick up what you could of her essence, but it had dried some under the rooms dry breeze. It only made sense for you to sink down, the redheads eyes widened in shock, or alarm—maybe it was both.

The warmth of your mouth did the trick in softening her slick, and you moaned at the taste as she gagged, her end being now pressed beyond her throats tight hole. She spluttered as she felt the painful stretch, one would think your goal was asphyxiation, but as she focused on your softer gaze she was able to mirror you as you breathed through your nose. Even in her hazy state it was clear to her that you’d done this before.

Envy gripped her heart as she realized you were the first person to drink from the well she deemed hers. Bittersweet solace wrapped around yours in the same blink of time, you were still so unsure about trusting her again, but you fought the temptation to run. If she was truly back, you could find it in you to stay as well.

Once your lips met you stayed still, the air was charged with a need for more, her green eyes begged for you to kiss her truly, but you made her wait a breath longer. Then you slowly pulled back, your own mess of drool slid down the strap and into the hollows of her cheek. As much as the redhead wanted reprieve, and you, she also found some comfort in the suckling of the plastic.

Once you reached the tip you gripped it with your teeth and abruptly pulled it from her mouth, trails of spit, cum and blood followed and your eyes widened some. But Natasha’s were unwavering as she pulled you down and into a kiss that gave way to her every single fear.

The redhead flipped your positions and pressed even further into you, her lips firmly kept their rightful spot against your own, and the two of you made out like there was no plans for tomorrow. Her love and your pesky frustration bled together as your tongues met.

Natasha wanted to keep going, but it was too much to ask of either of your bodies, so she pulled away after her lungs gave her no choice, and fell on top of you. Silence followed, aside from the soft, labored pants of a job well done. It was eventually Natasha that broke it.

"We've done everything backwards," she whispered against the skin of your throat, you'd barely heard her from where she'd burrowed, but you fortunately did. "That's the price to pay for all other parties decisions."

"I-I was just so mad," she morosely admitted, "they made decisions for us that only we should have."

"I know," you acknowledged with an edge to your tone, discussing this was likely going to be charged with the anger that only just began to settle down in your heart.

"I was upset too Natasha, because I dreamed of the same thing but they tainted it with their diplomatic nonsense. It felt spiteful, as if they knew what I was only just discovering. Using my feelings against me, and then, what I didn’t expect was the next day when I woke up to find you suddenly didn’t want me around.”

“That’s not—, Y/N, of course I wanted you around…”

“Your actions said otherwise, and they only left me shattered and then the foreseen inevitably, alone."

"I am so sorry," she softly cried and you hummed, “I know,” your hand was rubbing her back gently in a soothing manner, your tone a little less on edge now, "I'm trying to forgive you Natty," you admitted, a bit of a fall back from your earlier spoken sentiments. In that prior heated moment it felt resolved, but the more you thought it over, the more you felt she'd need to work towards making this destiny work out harmoniously.

Natasha ached at the realization, no matter the way she preserved herself for you, it obviously wasn't enough. A juvenile thought coming back to bite her in the ass she supposed, but she didn't care about the consequences just as long as she had the chance to make it right. She would do anything to, no matter the cost, whether it be monetary, or her soul; she’d even kill another for you.

"Can I take you somewhere?" Natasha meekly asked after another bout of silence, you’d honestly thought she fell asleep, but she was stewing just the same.

The gala likely ended an hour ago, with your collective parents, yours most certainly begrudgingly, dismissing the crowds in your place, with some excuse, like your need for sleep as the wedding of the century occurs tomorrow. Yet you weren't sleeping, instead you were accepting the invitation from your fiancée, allowing her a chance to get started on fixing your relationship.

Which started with a sweet shower, she washed your body with care, the rag slid over your curves and the love you'd been missing was back as if it never left. A truth of sorts as Natasha only hid her abundant love.

Once the both of you were clean, she guided you over to her tub, and left you to soak your aching muscles for a bit longer in a bubble bath while she set off to plan.

Natasha rummaged through her wardrobe and pulled out a few of her fleece sleep linens. You walked out of the bathroom with only a towel for your hair and the redhead shamelessly stared at your gorgeous body.

"My eyes are up here Natasha," you reminded and she carelessly shrugged, "I know. I'm starting at your tits."

"If you're not ready for my hand in marriage," you began to scold in jest but the redhead swooped you off of your feet and into a silencing kiss instead. She softly laid you onto the fresh sheets and just as gently kissed down your body, her tongue ran through your folds as a tease and you choked on your breath. Natasha just wanted to taste you over the mint of her toothpaste. “I’m ready for everything the world will throw our way just as long as I get to taste your divinity, my queen.”

“Natasha,” you whined and pulled her up so that she could meet your glare, she chuckled as her lips gently pecked your own. “We’ll continue this tomorrow.” She winked, then made quick work to dress you in her navy blue pjs, kissing the skin of your stomach and under boob as she settled the fabric against your skin. Then she slid into her crimson set and guided you into a pair of boots before she helped you sneak out of the castle.

The two of you were hand in hand as you ran across the massive courtyard, nearly tripping over the wet grass while giggling like little kids as you approached the creek that held your fondest memories. The moonlight was beautifully shining off of the murky water and illuminating your face just right. Natasha tripped as she was stepping over a root, and just as she came to terms with the incoming impact she was fine. Just when she was about to hit the dead shrubbery you hooked your arms beneath her armpits and yanked up.

"I'm already yours Natasha, there's no need to fall." You pushed her petite, muscular frame against the tree and she smiled as the memory of a lost opportunity passed through her mind. Part of her regrets not kissing you back then, but most of her thinks the path that led her to you was just as it should be.

Her lips lovingly met yours, the both of you smiled as you felt the dynamic changing, it was as if all the stars and planets had finally aligned; destiny sealed shut.

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