#aka they are *all* arrogant assholes

[sirendeepity]

Funny how SJM has to kick some of her own characters down to make it seem like the ic mc is shining. My darling dear, the bar is literally in hell, and you digging a hole to shove people into to make them appear "lower" than your personal faves is not going to change that, sorry (not sorry)

[yuujispinkhair]

How you get the girl

He knows how ironic this is. He is Sukuna, the guy who is known to always wear a smug smirk on his tattoed face and have a snide remark ready at all times. And yet, when you stand in front of him and confess your feelings to him, he is at a total loss for what to do.

Aka Sukuna is a lovesick mess who fucks things up on the first try because being open about his feelings is really not his strength but then makes up for it again.

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff, College AU Word Count: 1.9k Warnings: Light angst with a happy ending. Sukuna struggles with opening up about his feelings. Kissing. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact.

"And that's why...I mean, what I want to say is, I love you, Sukuna."

You stand in front of him, wringing your hands nervously after saying all those sweet things about him that he never knew he was, and look up at him with a hopeful look in your pretty eyes. And Sukuna feels like he has been hit by a truck as he stares at you with wide maroon eyes and his heart hammering in his chest.

He knows how ironic this is. He is Sukuna, the star player of the basketball team, the popular asshole who gets invited to every party, the guy with the bad boy reputation, who is known to always wear a smug smirk on his tattoed face and have a snide remark ready at all times. And yet, when you stand in front of him and confess your feelings to him, he is at a total loss for what to do.

There are a lot of things going through his head. A lot of things he could confess to you. Like how much he likes spending time with you. Or that he thinks about your smile all day. Or that he likes how you laugh about his jokes and always play along when he says something teasing.

He knows he should be honest and tell you how weirdly full his chest feels when he holds you and that he likes it so much how you fit so perfectly into his arms and against his tall, muscular body. That it makes him want to protect you and care for you, just like the way you care for him so lovingly. He knows he could tell you that you are always his last thought before he falls asleep and the first one when he wakes up.

But he doesn't do any of that. He is frozen somehow. This big bad guy, who is always so loud and confident, is standing there staring at you with wide maroon eyes, nervously pushing his tongue piercing against the back of his incisors while he tries to think of what to say to you.

It's too much, too intense. He is good at flirting. He is good at kissing and fucking and sweet talk. But he isn't good at this!

Sukuna opens his mouth only to close it again, unable to put this overwhelming whirlwind of feelings into words. Or maybe it's not even that. Maybe it's not that he doesn't know what to say, but rather that everything he would say right now would feel too honest, too raw, and that is something that scares him. He has always been the rough one, the one who wears a mask of arrogance and indifference that lets him hide how he really feels.

Maybe that is why all he manages to say is,

"Thank you, princess."

He sees your face fall and hears a shaky breath escape your lips. You try to mask your disappointment, lips lifting in a forced smile as you back away from him with shiny eyes.

"You're welcome... I ... I will just go then. Bye, Sukuna."

He has never felt as helpless as when he stands there with his hands balled into fists as he watches you turn around and leave hastily.

He tries to pretend this moment never happened, tries to tell himself he did nothing wrong. It's fine. His reaction was a normal one. Things will be ok. You will come up to him tomorrow and roll your eyes and tease him about how he stood there like an idiot, and he will laugh and pull you against him and tell you that your beauty left him speechless and that, of course, he feels the same!

But that doesn't happen.

He doesn't see you anywhere in the next few days. There are no texts from you either. You're avoiding him, aren't you? Your friends send death glares his way when he passes them in the hallway.

He loses track of how often he pulls his phone out of the back pocket of his skinny jeans, just for his fingers to hover over your last message to him, unable to find the courage to type something.

The new episode of your favorite show airs tonight. He watches it. Of course, he does. He always does, even though he finds it boring and thinks the actors are super bad. But he watches it because you like it, and so he can talk to you about it. But tonight, you aren't in his bed to watch with him, and you aren't texting him about it either.

So Sukuna grabs his phone and finally texts you. He sends text message after text message all through the episode, commenting on the newest scandal and on the outfits of the main characters.

He doesn't get a reply.

On the fourth day, he sits in the living room with his brother, playing video games and losing round after round because his mind is too occupied with missing you and stressing about why he did what he did. And suddenly, he can't stop himself from throwing the controller on the floor and blurting out,

"I fucked up."

Yuuji looks at him with a questioning look,

"Do you mean in the game or something else? Are you in trouble?"

And Sukuna laughs gruffly and hides his face in his hands as he shakes his head. Luckily, his brother is persistent and doesn't leave him alone. The brat bugs him until Sukuna finally spills it out,

"She told me she loves me."

He doesn't even have to say your name. Yuuji knows. Of course, he does. He blinks at Sukuna in confusion.

"And what is the problem? That is amazing news!"

"I said thank you."

The seconds tick away, and Yuuji stares at him as if waiting for him to say more. Sukuna huffs and shakes his head before he adds,

"That's all. I thanked her... and then she left."

"What do you mean you thanked her, Kuna? What the fuck!? That isn't an acceptable way to reply to a love confession!"

"As if I don't know that! I... shit, I didn't know what to say! I was overwhelmed!"

He glares at his twin, desperation turning him into a hot, angry mess. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything. He should grab his gym bag and go lift some weights and hit a punching bag until he is too exhausted to think!

But Yuuji's voice stops him.

"But.. but don't you like her? You looked so happy with her."

"Of course I do! I like her a lot."

He hates how soft his voice becomes when he says the last part. He hates how weak he feels when he feels his mask slip and knows he isn't able to hide the pain in his heart.

But luckily, this is Yuuji, his twin, the brat that has been practically attached to his hip ever since he was born three minutes after Sukuna. It's ok if he sees Sukuna like that. This is the little brother who loves Sukuna no matter what shitty situation he gets himself into. The brother who is so much better at being open about his feelings. The brother who isn't scared to tell him off when Sukuna does something stupid.

"When what are you still doing here, you idiot? Get the fuck up and go to her and talk to her! I will throw you out and lock the door! I am serious, Kuna! You only come back here after you made things ok again with your girl!"

It's ridiculous that he needs his younger brother to kick his ass and tell him what to do. It's absolutely pathetic that he jogs through the rain in the middle of the night to buy a huge bouquet of red roses and then bangs on your door with his pink hair dripping wet and his soaked-through white t-shirt sticking to his abs uncomfortably.

But maybe it's good to be pathetic sometimes because you don't slam the door into his face but look at him with a hopeful expression on your face and a soft,

"Hey, Sukuna."

He doesn't give a fuck anymore at that point. He doesn't care that he is standing in a small puddle of rainwater dripping down from his wet clothes. He doesn't care that his hand trembles when he pushes the roses into your arms. He doesn't care if the whole dorm hears him when he says,

"I am sorry! I was an idiot. You said all those sweet things to me, and in my head were so many things I wanted to tell you too, but I messed up."

He runs a large hand through his wet hair and slicks it back again, looking at you with eyes that glitter suspiciously, but he can blame it on the rain sticking to his long lashes,

"I like you too. Every minute with you was the best I ever had. I see your face in my mind all the time. Last week, I started laughing in the middle of the grocery store because I remembered something funny you said to me. I messed up my last exam because I was too distracted thinking about how your hand feels in my hair. I only feel ok when you are next to me because if you are not there, I feel like there is a crucial part of me missing. I know I suck at talking about my feelings, but that doesn't mean I don't have a hundred thousand of them when it comes to you, and all of them are fucking good and intense and drive me crazy and... I just.. fuck, I love you, princess. I love you, and I am so sorry!"

He feels out of breath, maybe from running through the rainy streets or maybe from letting out all of those words that make him feel so fucking vulnerable when being vulnerable was the one thing he always tried to avoid at all costs.

But there is this happy smile on your face. The smile he missed so damn much. And he knows it was worth it that he ran through the rain and spilled his heart out in the staircase of your dorm.

It was all worth it because you take a step towards him with happy tears in your eyes and a soft,

"Oh, Kuna."

And the next thing he knows is you are in his arms again, your warm body pressing tightly against his, not caring about his wet clothes. Your arms wrap around his neck, and your fingers play with the short hair of his undercut, making him let out a soft sigh. And you get on your tiptoes to kiss him right when he wraps his tattoed arms around your waist and pulls you even closer.

He can hear loud cheers and applause coming from somewhere in the staircase, but he really doesn't give a fuck anymore who heard his love confession. The whole world can know how he feels about you. He will shout it from the rooftop and punch everyone in the face who has a problem with it, if it means he can hold you again and kiss you and feel your smile against his lips.

I made myself cry thinking about this scene and then I HAD to write it aaaaah. I am so weak when Sukuna is a mess, it just makes me want to hug him and ruffle his hair and never let him go again. I am obsessed I think.

Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it and that you are weak for this mess of a boy too ;)

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

[artbyblastweave]

ask game; Victoria Dallon, aka Glory Girl aka Antares

I've always thought that Victoria's first appearance is quite the bit of deft needle-threading.

The thing about Interlude 2 is that Vicky is our first example of one of this setting's established heroes actively fighting crime- not just swooping in to vulture up the accomplishments of an up-and-comer- and a therefore a major goal of the sequence is to ensure that the audience comes away structurally unnerved by what counts as business as usual for the heroes, set the stage for the hurricane of ass-covering to come. So we have a sequence where she lords her power over a baseline criminal who has no realistic chance to fight back or get away, where she cripples and nearly kills him in a display of excessive force, where she uses her connections to other capes to duck out on the consequences of her excess once she realizes that she's crossed certain moral and optical Rubicons. All of this is gross, all of this speaks to an alarmingly cavalier attitude amongst even the most ostensibly accountable heroes. And from a protagonistic perspective, all of this serves to soften the blow of Taylor's actions at the bank in act three, because we're predisposed to see Vicky as an arrogant, overprivileged loose cannon who'd actually have a significantly higher body count than all of the Undersiders put together if not for the cushion afforded to her by her status as a superhero. A golden child up against the already put-upon underdog.

But. She also does all of that to a Neo-Nazi, who was fresh off committing a hate crime. I mean, if this was violence against a purse-snatcher, a drug-dealer- It would be very, very easy to block this sequence in a way that would set her up as a villain and nothing else for the rest of the work. In The Boys, for example, Homelander debuts by incinerating one bank robber's hand and throwing another a thousand feet into the air to land hard on a parked car, and the dissonance between that casual brutality and his chumminess with the onlookers is the thematic backbone for... basically the entire show, because he was in such total control of the situation that the only reason to do it that way is that he fundamentally doesn't care. In Super Crooks, it's made abundantly clear that the superheroes trying to arrest the titular supervillains are significantly more destructive to the city than the villains are, because their institutional backing removes any incentive to do anything but pursue the flashiest arrests possible for the sake of ratings. But Glory Girl? She's a sixteen year old putting her money where her mouth is on the unconsidered-dilettante suburban-left-ish tumblrite rallying cry of punching a Nazi. She's living out a near-boilerplate superheroic fantasy of righteous violence against an uncomplicatedly righteous target- likely a fantasy entertained at least once by the median cape fan, if we're being honest- and then, in the aftermath, blood on her hands and on the pavement, staring down the full weight of the prospect of actually having killed a person in an unconsidered spate of rage, is very much a panicked teenager about it, scrambling for a way to walk it back.

Which, independent of the specifics of whether this particular asshole had it coming, is the problematic element of this that generalizes- that superheroism in this world is a system that puts the social license to use concrete-shattering power in the hands of a kid with the judgement and attitude of someone scheming up ways to dodge curfew. She's done this before, she's gonna keep doing this, she's gonna keep being two-faced about it with her public-facing golden-girl image. But she wasn't wrong to be angry. And the fact that this is the kind of thing she gets angry about is hard to separate from later beats where she tries to do right by people, hard to separate from her willingness to put herself on the line against Endbringers and the Slaughterhouse 9. It's a bad situation, a horrible system that's guaranteed to incentivize bad behavior, they shouldn't be assigning any of this shit to a 17-year-old. But later on, when things go south for her, the seeds are planted so that she can retain audience sympathy in a way that she likely wouldn't be able to if this story was a banal hatswap, with unfairly maligned "villains" who do no real wrong against supervillains who happen to call themselves superheroes.

[sinsirellaxx]

Hey dear! How would you rank our toxic Slytherin boys from most to least, based on their toxicity?

Slytherin Boys – Most to least toxic

Hey love! Thank you for the request!

Honestly, this was a bit difficult. 🙈 What do you think – how would you rank them?

But here it goes:

Tom Riddle

Lorenzo Berkshire

Theodore Nott

Mattheo Riddle

Draco Malfoy

Blaise Zabini

The most toxic is Tom Riddle. It doesn't matter if it's Tom Riddle (aka Lord Voldemort) or Tom Riddle Jr. (aka the oldest son/Mattheo's brother).

If it's the first one, he is obviously the most dangerous and feared wizard, which makes him an extreme threat: There is no way out for you except for death. He'd know everything about you: your thoughts, your whereabouts, your dreams, your wishes – everything.

He'll have his followers watch you 24/7 and you won't even be allowed to step outside without him, because to him you aren't a person but his possession.

If we are talking about Tom Riddle Jr. he is still the most toxic, because as the oldest son of a family you have to carry the burden of the house: He'll have to exceed his father's expectations and will be under constant pressure (and probably fear for his life, seeing as his father is Voldy). He'll project this whole stress onto you: He cannot control his life, so he will control you. And if you're a good girl/boy he'll bask in the power he experiences in your relationship – which is not a good thing, because he'll grow more daring.

I think he'll also have separation anxiety, because he has never experienced the warmth and love he found in your arms – so, be ready to be suffocated by him. Even if he's an asshole about it. He'd kill you, if he had to. If he can't have you – no one can.

Lorenzo Berkshire is Bellatrix' son – and that is all you need to know. He's also probably her least favorite, because the others (Mattheo & Tom) are fathered by her dear Voldemort – which makes Lorenzo the black sheep of the family. He's yearned for a mother's love ever since he could talk and grew up in his brothers' shadow. He was always compared with the two. No matter what he did it wasn't enough. Because he isn't enough.

This is why I don't believe in this overly sweet, prince-like Lorenzo – but in the manipulative, angry, arrogant boy who just looks like a prince. But that's how he bagged you: with the charming mask of innocence that he carries with pride and with time, he'll show his true intentions. He'll manipulate and gaslight you to keep you and make you do whatever he wants.

He's controlling, possessive and extremely jealous and there is no room for buts if he is triggered by something.

Also wouldn't shy away from using one of the unforgivables to make you listen to him.

Theodore Nott is a toxic asshole. He'd do whatever he wants – he'd even cheat if he felt like it or to teach you a lesson. If it backfires – he'll gaslight you into believing it was actually your fault. So, he is extremely manipulative and possessive. He can do whatever he wants but you? No. He'd be arguing with you, screaming at you, if you did something that bothered him.

I don't know why, but I think he'd humiliate/shame you to make you feel less than him – to make you shrink back from an argument. That way he can control you – he'll just kiss your tears away if he hurt you with his sharp tongue.

Mattheo Riddle is also possessive, controlling and rather aggressive. Unlike Lorenzo, he was still 'loved' by Bellatrix but not by his father. He always wanted to be seen as an equal, which is why he has this urge to prove himself – to be number one. And if you spend to much time with other people, he'll be seething. He'll make it his mission to be your first priority and if it doesn't work he'll throw a tantrum.

Mattheo, however, is extremely scared to lose you. You are his everything, and he wants to be your everything. If he has achieved that – he'll threaten you with losing him if you act out. Mattheo would basically use your fears to his advantage.

Whenever you fight and it gets heated, he'll get physical if he's blinded by rage: he'll punch the wall, throw things and scream until his head turns red.

Draco Malfoy is a wildcard because his general mental wellbeing decreases throughout the movies. He starts off as this cocky, arrogant bastard who is used to getting whatever he wants. This Draco is also controlling, jealous and possessive.

Draco then grows into this extremely anxious boy who is forced to grow up and take on this burden with extreme consequences. He'll be more unstable from that day on: he suddenly has this fear of losing you, of not being good enough for you – which makes him tighten the grip he has on you.

He'll manipulate you with the burden he has to carry: Whenever he does something to upset you, he'll just play the "I'm sorry – I'm just so overwhelmed"-Card.

Blaise Zabini gives me the most chill vibes. He obviously still is a toxic boy like the rest of the lot but he'd be more subtle. However, Blaise is a master in manipulation. He won't threaten you or really gaslight you but he'll think of intricate plans to make you crawl back to him or listen to him.

[zepskies]

Hey Zepskies! I'm a small writer but I'm starting on my ficlet about an oc x ben (soldier boy). I've read so much of your work and just think you are a very talented writer. Do you have any tips on writing ben? it can be vague and I know you're busy so I don't expect a response. :)

Hey there!

First off, welcome and thank you for reading my stories (and for that lovely compliment). 💕

As for your question, writing Soldier Boy (Ben) can be very tricky. It took me a while to fully figure out how to write the character, and I will say, it's a challenge every time I do dive back into this (loveable) asshole.

😂 That said, here are 3 main tips I have for writing his character:

1. Comparable archetypes:

When I started trying to do a character analysis of this guy, I started with who he would've likely looked up to and tried to emulate: Frank Sinatra, Humphrey Bogart, Cary Grant, John Wayne, Indiana Jones, John Winchester, and even Dean Winchester to an extent -- the strong, stoic, man of action archetype.

AKA: The Big Swinging Dick™️ in the Room.

These men are leaders, a "man's man," show no pain, weakness, or vulnerability. (So shove those "soft" emotions down your gullet as much as humanly possible. Real men don't cry, amirite? 🙄)

But the fun thing I find about guys like this is, even though they have a hard shell, being able to pierce the armor somehow and get to the creamy center of their heart can be a very rewarding story indeed.

2. The balance of SB's personality:

Based on what we got in season 3 of The Boys, I find that Soldier Boy's personality is a delicate balance of a few key things:

Arrogant Narcissist: He's a massive ego, selfish with a conflated sense of his own importance. Especially before his capture, he's reached the pinnacle of fame. He's bought into his own hype and the backstory Vought created for him, and he assumes that everyone in his life loves him for it.

As Jensen said of his character in Supes Ain't Always Heroes (check out my review of the book here if you like):

“He’s so fragile and his ego is fragile. Just like Homelander. These bigger-than-life powerful heroes really have a glass jaw… “And everyone walks on eggshells around him [Soldier Boy], and they tell him that they love him, and it’s the same with Homelander. Then when all of a sudden he faces his old team and Crimson Countess says we never loved you, we hated you—that’s a gut punch for him. Because even though on some level he may have known that, he never thought he would hear it. “And he probably propped himself up around trying to believe otherwise, because how can you walk around knowing everyone you’ve ever cared about hates you? It’s too painful.” (191)

Womanizing Misogynist: That entire scene with SB and Grace in Nicaragua tells you all you need to know about how Soldier Boy talks, treats, and views women. 🙄 Again, he's a narcissist, so he assumes women are going to be into him because he's the world's biggest superhero, because he's handsome, because he's that guy.

The problem is, he is devastatingly handsome and impressive as a superhero. And my headcanon is he can be very charming when he wants to be. Again, using his skills as an actor and channelling that old-world debonair charm to get what he wants. (i.e. Cary Grant, etc.)

Violent and Indifferent to Collateral Damage: This is a key one, because this is part of what makes him different from Homelander. SB is not a psychopath. He doesn't necessarily enjoy hurting people. He just doesn't care about the collateral damage.

He also can't tolerate a perceived slight to his masculinity or status, like when Black Noir tried to rise up in the ranks and come into his own as a movie star. Soldier Boy, in his selfishness, saw that as Noir trying to come for his crown, in a sense, which is why he ultimately showed his mean streak through violence.

When he gets back to the U.S. after escaping Russia, he's on a warpath of vengeance against his team who sold him out, and anyone who gets in his way.

"If they have it coming," he tells Hughie.

3. Soldier Boy is both less and more than what he represents: (AKA: His insecurities)

As we know, Soldier Boy didn't really storm Normandy or fight the Nazis. He falls short of every definition of a hero. However, he's also not just a caricature of toxic masculinity.

Ben has deep-seated insecurities that he buries under all the bravado and the Soldier Boy persona. He was also emotionally abused by his father, who set exacting standards for what it meant to be a man.

It drives Ben to try and prove his worth to his father, though he’s never able to. It fosters the lack of self-worth he feels as he seeks validation through fame and what he believes power to be.

He won’t be one to easily admit he’s wrong, or need help, or express emotions he deems are “soft.” He doesn’t want to look weak or demean himself, let alone be genuinely vulnerable.

He uses coping mechanisms like drugs to mask and dull his PTSD, but even in his heyday, I think he drugs and parties hard just to pass the time, and to mask how actually empty he is inside. He has no real love in his life, and no family. It's why he admits to Hughie that he wanted kids. Deep down, he wants a family to fill that void that fame, booze, drugs, and meaningless sex can't fill in his life.

So with all of that flawed, internal mess that is Soldier Boy, the biggest challenge I find as a romance writer is trying to keep all of these aspects of his character, while trying to show the glimmers of the humanity in Ben -- the chink in his armor showing just enough softness to the one person who's brave enough to "try" with him.

That said, I hope all of this helps! 💚

[jedi-enthusiast]

I've seen a lot of posts on my feed lately that have, in some way shape or form, said "the story of the Jedi is tragic cause the Jedi caused their own genocide" followed by a list of just...stuff that's either untrue or the other option would've been worse in that game of roulette that Palpatine set up specifically to force the Jedi to make questionable decisions and wear them down with the weight of them. (Untagged posts btw, if you're gonna post shit along these lines please for the love of fuck tag it "Jedi critical," there are tags for a reason)

So I'm here to outline why that's complete and utter bullshit in one easy, simple to understand, post! No matter what the Jedi did, or what you think they did, they did not cause their own genocide. The fault of their genocide is solely on those who chose to commit said genocide of their people and culture.

Ignoring the fact that Palpatine's entire plan, the whole point of everything that we see in the Prequels, was to kill off all of the Jedi and erase their culture--so he was gonna figure out some way to do it, with or without Anakin/the clones/Dooku/etc.

You cannot make someone commit genocide against you.

That is the stupidest argument ever.

Committing genocide is a choice, one that you actively have to make over and over again--which we see Anakin do, even long after all (or all except a measly few survivors, most of which were literal children in the Prequel-era and couldn't have possibly done anything to piss Anakin off) of the Prequel-era Jedi--aka the ones that people say "brought this on themselves"--were dead!

The Jedi Order as a whole could've been the shittiest, most repressed group of arrogant assholes the galaxy had ever seen. They could've called Anakin a whiny bitch to his face and told him that Dooku should've gone for his head instead of his arm. They could've danced on his mother's grave and had tea parties with the Tuskens.

And guess what?

They still could not have made Anakin and Palpatine commit genocide against them. It was their choice, and their choice alone.

The only people that had no choice in committing that genocide were the clones and guess who took that choice away from them? Because it certainly wasn't the fucking Jedi!

Which is hilarious because most of these posts I've seen have said something along the lines of "the Jedi used the clones as slaves," ignoring the fact that--even if that were true (and it's not)--Anakin and Palpatine used them as slaves too!

And it was so much worse when they did it because, not only were they not given a choice, they were fucking mind-controlled in order to commit genocide against their will! So they didn't even get the choice to refuse and face the consequences of that--which is an option for them during the Clone Wars, albeit a shitty one.

So no, the Jedi did not bring anything upon themselves.

Start holding Anakin responsible for his own shitty decisions, and start tagging your damn anti-Jedi and Jedi critical posts properly!

[romanoffsbish]

Through the Eras

Natasha Romanoff x Fem(Stylist)!Reader

Natasha was a master of disguise, she didn’t need any help in that department, but Fury had a different plan, and she didn’t feel a need to push back when she saw it unfolding. Aka, Natasha is a simp for R, and this is them falling in love over a decades time.

2011-IM2, 2012-OG Avengers, 2014-Winter Soldier, 2016-Civil War, 2018-IW, 2023-EG

All Canon besides EG.

Warnings: Violence, Death, Grief, but like mostly happy/fluffy.

Smut: Bottom!Nat, Oral/Strap(N), Praising.

2002

Natasha was hesitant about being in America, the land where a donut could be bigger than the size of someone's head, and where majority of experiences were rooted in fake niceties. Nothing about the foreign country felt like home to her, not that she knew much about such a feeling, but she knew it was best to get acclimated seeing as how she hadn't been given much of a choice. Either she give her life away to this organization, or she die at their hands.

Upon entering the SHIELD base her green eyes were tracking any and all movements as she trailed behind Agent Barton, the man she swears fealty to for sparing a wretch such as herself from a perceivably deserved death.

The agency is like nothing Natasha had ever seen before, majority of the agents here wore basic black suits with ties like you'd see on an individual working a 9-5, not so much at a government agency full of professional spies and assassins as she knew it to be.

Back in the Red Room the men employed by General Dreykov were almost always sporting full tactical suits like the cowards that they were to keep the little girls in line, and to surround the man for safety purposes. Here though, as Clint escorts her to the man in charge she doesn't see him with a team, no, it's simply a man in a trench coat, wearing an eye patch with a raven haired woman to his right.

"Romanoff.," the odd man with the eye patch nods at her stoically., "Barton here has decided to take a chance on you, don't make us here at Shield regret honoring that choice.," his hand reached for hers, she observed the gesture with hesitation, but eventually she met his attempt.

"Welcome to Shield Agent Romanoff, Hill here will escort you to your quarters, good luck."

—

2011

After nine years Natasha had yet to find the people of New York bearable, but she's learned to make due, and has acclimated very well as a good spy is trained to do, but moreover she had found she began to crave the perceived American dream. Over time she proved her expressed loyalty to the Director, as well as her mission partner turned family, and successfully crawled up ranks until she reached a Level 6.

With climbing ranks came more respect and then with that came new responsibilities. For years now she'd listened to Nick drone on about his determination to build a group of remarkable people to fight the battles that the bulk of your everyday people never could.

"Seriously Fury?," she scoffed while looking over the many files., "This guy is remarkable?"

"Stark is many things: a billionaire, arrogant, even a pompous asshole, but if you can look beyond the overly jelled back hair, and childish antics you'll see he's untouchably intelligent."

"Is that why he's letting himself die then?"

"Listen, Romanoff, I did not assign you this case for you to question my judgment.," he groaned, and ran his hand over his face., "You're here because I need eyes on the inside, and someone who can break him down until he accepts our help, and joins the good fight."

"So I'm your eye candy?," she scoffs, arms now folded across her chest as she glares at him., "Look, it's not ideal, but in part, yes you are."

"I don't appreciate such a deduction, I'm a skilled agent.," he nods., "Yeah, which is why you'll be gathering me intel, and helping the pitiful man who's too weak to help himself."

Natasha continued to glare, but Nick just moved passed it as he's grown used to her pushback over the years., "You're on your own in the field, but Coulson's on standby, and I've assigned Y/L/N to assist you when need be."

"The agency's hairdresser?"

"Now who's deducing?," you snarked from the door as you strolled into the room., "I also do your makeup, pick out your clothing, and keep your mind stimulated when you're bored."

Natasha glared at you for your interruption, but it was in vain, she always found your presence rather pleasant, even if she's only ever been able to experience you in passing thus far.

"I take it the two of you got it from here then?"

After you both nodded at the director he left the room smiling, and Maria smiled back., "Playing matchmaker now, are we Nick?"

—

Natasha's face never wavered when you made decisions for her, she was not one to push back outwardly if she didn't know you well, but you could detect the faux indifference in her eyes.

"Well, you seem to not be down for the bob, or the fringe look.," you called her bluff., "What about if I were to make you bald, super sexy.," she unexpectedly smirked at your teasing.

"Not sure Stark's into the bald type, have you even thought about that?," you grimaced., "Now Natasha, why would I ever care about a mans opinion? I don't usually think of men, let alone their opinions on a clients appearance."

Natasha's stoic expression returned as you spoke of her so professionally, she wanted to frown, but she knew it wasn't right since you were also here for a job. Now she's starting to understand the whole eye candy trope, as she's essentially procured you here as her very own.

"How about we darken your natural shade a little bit, and add extensions?" you held up the desired shade, and the glint in her eyes had you sold, even if all she did was shrug indifferently.

—

Natasha's body stiffened when your hands fell on her hips to turn her., "Something is off.," she frowned., "Gee, thanks Y/L/N.," you smirked, then made a 'aha' noise, spinning her back around before dropping your hold on her.

"Well?"

"Oh, sorry.," you smiled sheepishly., "Tuck the shirt into the pants, it'll be more form fitting."

"That was your big save?," she chuckled while doing exactly what you said, a smile on her face as she silently agreed with your judgment call.

"Don't mock me Romanoff, or I'll make sure to give your nose extra attention with my blush."

Natasha smirked cockily, a snide joke on the tip of her tongue, but instead of speaking, her breath was hitching when you straddled her lap, and nonchalantly began her makeup.

"Uh, Y/L/N.," you hummed, makeup sponge in hand as you prepared to apply her concealer., "Is there a reason you're sat in my lap?"

"There are no other places to sit in this tiny bathroom work space Romanoff, and there's no way I'm standing on my feet for over an hour.," your answer was playfully spoken, but serious.

"An hour?," you stifled a laugh at the sight of her scrunched features., "It's just make up."

"Do I question your fighting process?"

"I guess not.," she softly replied, her mind was a bit too focused on how you were so close she could feel your breaths to really push back, plus, she didn't really mind the proximity.

She became so distracted by you that she failed to hear the way your breath hitched after her arms unconsciously moved from dangling by her uncomfortably to wrapped around you.

"Done.," you swiped the stick over her lips, and stood up, much to Natasha's disappointment.

"How do I look?," she asked, and you turned to her with a playful smile., "Like a million bucks, you can say thank you now like a civilized person, or later after you wow the billionaire."

Natasha smirked, it excited her a bit to hear a tinge of jealousy in your tone, it told her this whole connection wasn't exactly one sided.

"Thank you krasivaya.," she left a soft kiss to your cheek, your knees nearly buckled, and you were praying for your sake she didn't see that., "Natasha, your lips weren't dry yet.," you chose to scold her to take the heat off of your bodies previous betrayal just before catching her off guard as you gripped her chin, and reapplied.

"Good luck."

"Why would I need luck when I apparently look like a million bucks?" she mused., "The money hungry fool will be under my spell in seconds." a playful wink was thrown your way as she left, but you were smart enough to know she was telling the truth, she had the kind of effortless beauty that could be used to topple regimes, and to your misfortune, your sensitive heart.

—

"What's your name lady?," Tony Stark, her op, immediately shouted at her as she entered, and she turned to him with a neutral expression., "Rushman. Natalie Rushman."

You giggled., "James Bond, really? You're such a cliche Romanoff," you could just feel the eye roll she was likely being forced to internalize all the while wondering why she agreed to your unhelpful proposal of wearing ear pieces.

Natasha wanted to smirk at your comment, because she was very much a cliche in this moment, but she had to remain in character as the "hot woman" from legal, and to get in Tony's good graces she agreed to a sparring match with his security guard, Happy Gilmore.

"You ever boxed before?"

"I have, yes."

"Oh boy, is he in for a treat.," you giggle, and Natasha smiled at the sound, and fortunately for her it seemed to fit in the moment anyways.

"What, like the Tae Bo? Booty Boot Camp? Crunch? Something like that?"

"Oh, no the fuck he didn't.," you verbalized aloud what her very expression did, you heard her clear her throat, and frowned, the woman you knew would've given him what for, but you knew she was forced to remain cordial here.

Tony called out to her, causing her to deviate her attention momentarily, and for Happy to believe that this was a teaching moment.

"Rule number one, never take your eye off your opponent."

"Rule number one, don't be a misogynistic douche.," you grumbled, and to your extreme delight you could hear Natasha grunt, and all other parties either shrieking or groaning.

"Atta girl."

Natasha rushed out shortly after the incident, and after dropping off the paperwork in her hand she made her way back to your hotel.

"I took the liberty of ordering room service.," you said as soon as she plopped beside you on the bed in her casual clothes., "I also used the company card to rent Moonraker for you."

Natasha slapped your arm lightly., "You're going to hold this against me for life, huh?"

"Ooh, I'm a for lifer?," she smiled softly at your tease, it was too soon to know really, but her heart fluttered at the idea of a forever with you.

"Who else will do my hair and makeup? Me?" she scoffs playfully. "I'm too high ranked to be expected to do such mundane, easy things."

"For that cruel dig I am eating the bonus chocolate covered strawberry!" you grumbled, she cackled as she swiped it from the tray and was met with your glare. "No, I don't think so."

Instead of chasing her down you laid out like a starfish on the mattress. "I heard the couch is comfortable, I hope you find that true," she gasped at your insinuation, then if only to show off she lifted you effortlessly, laid down beside you, and pressed play. "I'm sorry Y/L/N."

"I won't hold it against you Rushman," you rolled to your side, then faced the screen just the same. "Good, I kinda need you on my side."

——

The following day you were expected to make her look fancy, so you set her up in a red dress, and did a simple makeup look. "Have fun."

"Oh my, did I forget to tell you that you're coming with me," she looked at you innocently, but the glint in her eye screamed of mischief.

Your voice expectedly cracked, "What?"

"Pepper said I could bring a plus one, and Fury said I could bring you, so go get ready toots."

Natasha waited patiently on the edge of your shared bed on her phone, hardly listening as you grumbled from behind the closed bathroom door. "This is so uncool, I didn't bring anything fancy to wear," you peaked your sopping wet head out to pout at her in the hopes that you'd be spared going, but she held up a garment bag while smirking tauntingly, "Hurry up now malysh, we can't be late."

—

Natasha's hand settled over your hip as the two of you entered the venue together, you were in a black suit with a red dress shirt to match her dress, you looked like a couple, and the thought of the possibility made your skin burn, and it had your heart skipping with a doomed hope.

"Oh, who's this beauty?" Tony grasped your hand without asking, pulling it to his lips, and you grimaced as he pressed them to your hand. Natasha saw the disgusted look on your face, and instantly spoke. "This is Zoe Rushman."

"So beauty runs in the family then?" she shook her head, and pulled you even closer to her side. "No, it's a bit premature on the name, but she's my fiancé, and if the laws pass in our favor we'll be tying the knot next Spring."

Tony nodded, then took his leave to God knows where, and to be clear you surely didn't care.

"We're engaged?" Natasha spun you in front of her and leaned into your ear. "Yes, I will not subject you to Tony's flirting if I can avoid it."

"I thought you were meant to entice him."

"Not anymore, I already secured my spot, so really this is mutually beneficial." she mused, and you chuckled. "So I'm your arm candy?"

"Precisely," she kissed the corner of your lips, it felt real, but you reasoned it was for the sake of your story, so you shoved the feelings down.

"Natalie?!" you both turned to see a distraught blonde, you peered up at the small screen she was gawking at, you saw Tony racing in a car, then you saw a man with electricity tentacles also on the track. "Well that can't be good."

Natasha tended to a frantic Pepper, then she escorted you out of the venue. "Take her to the hotel," she instructed a shield agent, and you realized he must've already been on standby.

"Be careful Nat." She smirked. "I always am."

—

After working tirelessly to save Tony's image, she returned to the hotel at ten at night in desperate need of a shower, and some sleep. When she entered your shared space it was dark, and she made quiet work of tending to her needs before slipping in bed besides you.

"You're back.," you slurred, one eye flying open to confirm it was indeed the redhead., "I am."

"Did you get your dinner?"

Natasha smiled appreciatively, "I ate already, Pepper ordered us takeout, but thank you honey, I put it in the fridge for tomorrow."

You hummed, too tired to really respond, and Natasha watched you slowly fall back to sleep with a smile of pure adoration. A gasp left her lips only moments later though, her smile never dissipated, it morphed into a shocked one as you'd unconsciously scooted across the mattress and threw an arm around her waist.

"Good grief, you're going to kill me," she slid her arm underneath your neck, and allowed her other to lay over your body protectively., "And I'd die happy if you did," she whispered before allowing the unfamiliar comfort you brought her to help her fall asleep with ease.

A full nights rest was something incredibly foreign to her, but it consumed her tonight.

——

Natasha just left you downstairs, even with the last event ending in chaos she wanted you at this party with her, but first she had to assist Stark as was her job, "Do you know which watch you'd like to wear tonight Mr. Stark?"

"I'll give them a look," he sighed while fixing his shirt. "I should cancel the party, huh?"

"Probably," she turned to look at him, and brought him over a martini she'd prepared.

"Yeah, because it's uh—," he paused, and she promptly finished his thought, "Ill timed."

"Sends the wrong message."

"Inappropriate," Nat confirms with a sly smirk., "Is that dirty enough for you?"

He sipped it, then immediately deflected back to the watches, and you grimaced at the way she flirted so easily, a little reminder that this was all a ruse, and she wasn't yours to have.

Natasha sat besides him, not because she was interested in the man, but because she wanted to have a closer look at his declining state as collecting intel was part of her overall mission.

"It's hard to get a read on you, where are you from?" Tony asked while she applied some concealer to his marred up face. "Legal."

You snorted, and the redhead heard it, and could picture your eyes rolling right now.

"Can I ask you a question, hypothetically?" Natasha only stared at him, but he went for it anyways. "It's a bit odd, but if this was your last birthday party you were ever gonna have, how would you celebrate it?"

"I'd do whatever I wanted to do, with whoever I wanted to do it with," she followed her answer up with the clicking of her heels, but stopped as he asked a follow up question. "Like Zoe?"

"Precisely," she hoped you could hear the truth in her tone, but if you didn't she'd find a way to make it clear to you after this whole mission.

Before you could wipe away the hopeful smile Natasha was at your side, slipping your near empty glass from your hand to down it all. "Drinking on the job Natalie?" she smirked over your glass, "Have you met my boss?"

Natasha beamed as you giggled, because not only does the sound illicit a warmth within her, but she knew you understood that she meant Director Fury just as much as she did Tony.

With an elegance in her movements the redhead settled your glass down, and brought you onto the dance floor as a slow song played. There was a comfortability that you were shocked to find yourself feeling with her in such a short time frame. Natasha was always an enigma back at Shield headquarters, but now, out in the field she was easier to read.

Just like you she craved exhilaration, you found it out in the wilderness on off days, and in the salon mixing up products to transform people into whatever they wanted to become. Natasha found it on stealthy missions, where she was able to kick peoples asses, and make the world a safer place for all that inhabit it.

There was still an air of mystery to her, which you expect being so new to this undefined dynamic with her. You didn't expect all her walls to drop at once, but the fact that any have dropped tells you that she trusts you enough.

Before you could make an honest move, like kissing her as you dreamed, an actual wall fell.

Natasha quickly pulled your face to her chest, shielding you from the glass, and as soon as Rhodey said to get out, she was pulling you both to another room, and softly cupping your cheeks, "We need to get you out of here."

"I don't break that easily Nata-."

"Natalie!" you grimaced at the shrill voice of the angry blonde, and Nat softly groaned before turning to her cordially, "Miss Potts."

Before she could say much to Nat about her speculations, she was dragged away by Happy, and you were much the same by Natasha.

"I think I'm your bad luck charm," you mused from the passenger seat, and Natasha softly sighed as she parked the car, "No, I actually think you're much to the opposite Y/N."

The both of you entered the hotel, taking turns slipping out of your dresses, and when you sat down on the bed Natasha's eyes widened., "You're hurt?" you shrugged. "Occupational hazard," you turned to face her, heart melting at the show of genuine concern on her face, but the happy faded fast when her eyes hardened.

"No, you're the all around stylist, not an agent."

"I'm more than that," your voice was small, and she immediately regretted her choice of words. "I-I know, but you still had no business being out in the field, and it's my fault you were."

"I'm okay Nat, it's only a scratch, and if it were to have been more I have combat training."

The redhead left the room, and your shoulders deflated, but then she came back with a couple wine coolers, a soft smile and a first aid kit.

"Let's get you all patched up soldier."

—

Natasha frowned as you entered the Stark expo hand in hand, "I don't have a good feeling about this," she groaned, and you squeezed her hand. "Nat, we already committed to this whole fiancés facade, so until we're through with the mission here I'm coming along."

"I could've told Pepper you're sick."

"Who's sick?"

"I thought I had a cold, but turns out it's just allergies," you answered, and held your hand out for her to shake as you'd yet to introduce yourself yet even after seeing each other.

"Zoe right?," you nodded convincingly, "It's lovely to finally meet you, Natalie here speaks of you so fondly, I'm almost kinda jealous."

"Aww, baby, you talk to your boss about me?" Natasha's face tinted a light shade of pink at the painful, exposing moment, and you did all that you could to stifle your teasing laughter. "You're just a total sweetheart," you mused and followed your teasing words with a gentle kiss to the already blushing woman's cheek.

"Well, shall we get seated?" Natasha managed to pull it together enough to brush right passed the moment, and escort Pepper to her seat.

It doesn't take long after the exchange for shit to hit the fan, and after Natasha roughed up Tony's business rival the two of you were in a car with Happy on the way to save the day.

"When we arrive I need you to watch the perimeter, I'm gonna enter the facility and take down the target," Natasha instructs, and you go to glare at her but are shockingly met with her undressing, and then you felt the car swerving.

"Watch the road," you growled at the man in the drivers seat, then you lifted your suit jacket up to shield Natasha as she changed out of the black dress and into her body defining catsuit.

Natasha softly smiled, an intense wave of emotion filled her as you remained respectful, and didn't intentionally ogle her like she's used to, but a secret part of her wished for you to. However, she has no time to dwell on it as the car comes to a stop outside Hammer's base.

"Stay in the car," Nat barked at both of you.

"I'm not staying in the car."

"Dude. You should really listen to her," you mused, but in direct contrast you followed her into the building, and Happy trailed behind.

"Y/N what are you doing?" she asks in a huff while knocking two guys out at once. "You can't be in here, I don't want you getting hurt."

You rush passed her with an eye roll, taking out a man who was fast approaching with a punch to his throat, then another with your lipstick that she now knows is a high voltage taser.

"I was going to retouch my lips with that," she gasps with a lopsided smile directed at you.

"Good thing you didn't you little thief.," you tease back as you both pass the last remaining guy, and she just uses her pepper spray on him.

Natasha is quick to help Tony with the drones, then while they fight she shifts her attention over to you, "You trained with who exactly?"

"Hill."

Natasha nodded, "Makes sense then."

Her arms that were folded over her chest move to around your waist., "Thanks for the help," you hug her back, and she basically melts into you., "Anytime Nat, I'll do your hair, makeup, I'll dress you up, whatever you want, really."

"How about you undress me?” she teased, using a deep sultry tone on you, you shoved her away playfully, and she cackled while following you out of the room. "Y/L/N, come back!"

"Thank God you girls are okay," Happy shouts as the both of you approach unscathed, he himself in a state of disarray, and you scoff. “It's not us you should be worried about."

He glares at you, then shifts his attention to the redhead approaching from behind you. "Hey, Natalie, what you did here was impressive,” he gestures to the pile of bodies with a shy smile.

"Would you be interested in getting dinner?"

Natasha watched as your jaw and fists clenched in unison, and it inspired her to make a move. Her callous hand was gentle as it found yours, she unfurled your fingers, then slipped hers between yours. "No thanks, I'm spoken for."

A wide smile befell your face as she spoke, and in a swift switch of events it was you making a move, your hand dropped hers to grab her by the waist, and as you spun her to face you the other slid behind her neck. "Yeah, she is."

Happy cleared his throat before scurrying off, the tension in the room thick at the glare you sent his way right before you pulled Natasha into you for a heady kiss. A soft hmph left you when she spun you around and into a wall.

Natasha pulled away from you at the sound of another's pained groan, she smirked at the sight of you so flustered; blissfully unaware, and as beautiful as the first time she saw you.

"We should get out of here krasivaya," Nat grabbed your hand again, squeezing it softly to better get your attention. "Lead the way Nat.," you smiled dreamily, she pulled you along, and guided you into the back of an awaiting car.

—

Fury shook your hand, then sent you off with a wink that you failed to understand as you were finally moving to leave Shields headquarters.

"Wait!” Natasha took off after you, and her hand settled on your shoulder. "Would you like to get coffee with me sometime?” you smiled at the redhead as you turned to face her properly, she was uncharacteristically nervous, and that made you feel extra confident. "I just made out with you over many unconscious men, and now you're nervous to talk to me—how adorable."

Natasha's mouth opened, but then it closed as she tried to remember how to formulate actual words. "I-I'm not adorable Y/N/N, you are."

"You're even more adorable now that you've said that," you snickered, then reached out to softly move a stray hair behind her ear. "I'd love to get coffee with you Natasha, feel free to pick me up tomorrow morning before work."

"I don't have your address.," she called out as you already started walking off again, and you didn't even turn around as you shouted., "We both know that's not true Agent Romanoff."

2012

You weren't a super spy yourself, but you didn't need to be to know the loud ding of your locked doors opening was because of a certain beauty.

"Natasha, I can get my own breakfast you know," you set the broom stick against the counter, and met her at the desk in your office. "Yeah, you can, but you shouldn't have to."

You shook your head with a fond smile, then accepted the warm beverage and croissant. "Thank you baby," you murmured over a bite of the buttery goodness, then you approached the pouting redhead as she reached for you.

"Are you excited to open the shop tomorrow detka?" she quickly pulled you into her warm embrace, and you nuzzled into her, knowing that she craved these reassuring affections. "Mostly," you admitted. "I'm kinda nervous."

"Why would you be nervous?"

"What if I open my doors and the sky falls?"

"Y/N, what's really going on, hm?" she softly swayed you, and placed a kiss to your forehead.

"What if I am not good enough to succeed?"

"Detka, now that's just ridiculous," your lover sighs softly as she works to pull you closer.

"You're plenty good enough, there's nobody else I'd ever let touch my hair," she confessed, "Nick knew that by the way, when he played matchmaker, and I went along of course because you were the woman of my dreams, and how else would I have gotten that close."

"Nat," she cut you off with a dizzying kiss, it was so intense that she was able to walk you back into your chair. "I'm dead serious detka."

"You're being honest?" she nodded, and you smiled widely. "I can't believe I was your first."

Natasha smirked, her dimple prominent as she absorbed your words, there were areas of truth to them, yes, you were her first hair stylist, but moreover, you were her first, and only love.

"Up until that mission I'd handled all of my own disguises, and yes, even as a level 6 agent I was able to work my own makeup brushes."

Your belly laughter filled the room, and your lover smiled as soon as it left you, if she were to only be made to hear your joy for the rest of her life she knows she'd die a happy woman.

"Hey, I have an idea," Natasha nudged your shoulder, then her hand gripped yours to pull you up to your feet without any explanation. Natasha settled herself down in one of your leather chairs with a lopsided grin as she met your gaze through the mirror and ran a hand through her unruly maine, "Have a ball."

It honestly surprised you how willing she was to be your guinea pig, her appearance really did mean a lot to her, but she seemingly trusted you enough to give you free reign with it.

Her current hair was a little passed shoulder length, and quite frankly overdue for a trim, but what you had in mind went beyond that.

Natasha followed your every instruction, and she did so happily, her sighs of gratitude proof that the way you scratched at her scalp as you washed and conditioned her hair was pleasing.

After you settled her down in the salon chair you practiced your customer service on her, "Ma'am, would you," she cut you off with a hand to the face. "Ma'am? Detka please..."

"Oh, my apologies, Miss picture perfect image of youth, would you care for a refreshment?"

Natasha smirked, "Much better, yes please."

Natasha graciously accepted the can of soda by pulling you in for an appreciative kiss, "Now don't you be letting the customers do that too."

You gasped, "Shit baby, do you think I should take off my 'Please kiss your stylist' apron?" She looked up at you unamused, her eyes were briefly casted down at your apron to ensure you were joking, and when she discovered you were she settled into the chair. "Chop, chop."

A roll of your eyes followed her play on words, you complied of course, but to make it more fun you spun her to face away from the mirror.

After you did the sizable chop you began to add layers to give it more volume, then you used your specialty scissors to give the ends texture. It took you about an hour to get her hair where you wanted, and from the back it looked great.

A long breath still left you when your hands no longer had something to manipulate, you were honestly nervous because it was far shorter than when she had walked in. Natasha had the fortune of being so beautiful that nothing could change that, but an outward opinion on her appearance didn't matter here, only hers did.

"Detka, you're making me nervous," she joked, and after a tense moment of silence she sighed, "I'm going to love it, I already feel tons lighter."

When you still refrained from spinning her around she stood from her seat, leaving you unable to face her reaction as she turned around. You still managed to do it though as you shut your eyes tightly to avoid the potential of a disappointed, and likely frowning Nat.

"It's perfect," she gasped, her hands were gentle as they moved you over a smidge so that she could see better. "Honey, open your eyes, and look at the smoke show that is on display," she shook your body like it was a limp noodle by her grip on your shoulders to emphasize the joy you should feel, and it actually paid off.

"Wow," you were genuinely elated as you opened your eyes, what you envisioned was so beautifully brought to life right before you. You didn't hesitate to run your hand through the much shorter red locks, appreciating the way that her natural wave showed through more prominently at this length. "You're beautiful."

Natasha surged forward, capturing your lips with hers, something she always did when she felt overwhelmed by you complimenting her. There was just something different about the way you said beautiful, your tone was always soft, and your eyes were even softer, as if you were seeing her for more than her physicality.

Which you were...

Just as you moved to deepen the affection, your tongue slowly sliding over hers, you were rudely interrupted by Natasha's obnoxious pager, and corresponding ringing of her cell. When combined that always meant she had to go, because Fury needed her for a mission.

"Absolutely not," she groaned, "What is it?"

"Agent Romanoff, always such a pleasure."

"Nick, I am unavailable, Y/N's opening day is tomorrow, can't you send someone else?"

"Unfortunately not Romanoff, it's connected to your mission in limbo, and if you don't seize the moment now you'll likely miss it entirely."

Natasha hung up on the director, it was her angered way of relenting on her stance, even if it was actually breaking her heart to say it.

"It's okay Natasha, it's just a salon opening."

"No, don't do that," she turned to face you, cupping your cheeks in her calloused hands. "You're so special Y/N/N, and the way you transform looks is amazing, it's life changing."

"Yeah, and the way you save the world is too," you leaned in to kiss her again, and the both of you made sure to savor the fleeting moment.

"I'll be back in time for a celebratory dinner."

"I'll be looking forward to it," you pressed your lips to hers for a chaste kiss. "Give them hell."

Natasha smirked against you, "I always do."

——

The world was a crazy place really, the general populous moves around in a state of blissful ignorance while atrocities happen under their noses. Rumors fly, but without any evidence they act as if the evil only exists in the stories. It's only in moments like now that they are able to get a glimpse through the cracks, and see that fables of other worlds are based in reality. 

Natasha stared up at the gigantic black hole in the sky in a disgusted sort of awe, it was a sight to marvel at—sure, but she wonders more how she got here in a matter of twenty four hours.

Yesterday morning she was being pampered by you, and by that evening she was tied to a chair with men who actually thought they had the upper hand on her, the notorious Black Widow.

Then after a panicked call from Coulson over Clint's well being she was exchanging her idiot Russian henchmen out for a ship full of equally as idiotic American men, with an aloof God in tow who couldn't set their egos aside long enough to see the bigger picture until it had to be blown up in front of their once smug faces.

After fighting her best friend, being chased by the monstrosity that is The Hulk, and losing Coulson, a dear friend of the redheads, she was already beyond exhausted, but rest was nary an option with aliens flying through a portal.

If they didn't pull it together soon the entire state of New York would likely meet the same fate as many other peculiar cities in the past.

Natasha wouldn't be letting that happen though, no matter what she would never let anything happen to you. Which is why she was first to offer finding out how to close the portal, effectively neutralizing the core threat here.

"Natasha, you seem distracted," the captain observed, and Natasha sighed in frustration. "My girlfriend," she paused as the man out of time dropped his shield out of shock. "Go on."

"Today was the day her shop was supposed to open, and I'm fucking terrified that she was in it as the fight broke out," she struggled to hold back her tears, "She didn't answer her phone, and I had no time to check on her." At the odd show of emotions from the reclusive spy Steve realized he needed to offer his support here.

"Listen, you make it to the top as planned, and I promise to go collect," he paused, and she smiled at just the thought of you. "Y/N."

"Please, don't let anything happen to her." he nodded, and with that she was off in the sky, chasing down the alien scum while the super soldier sprinted towards your quaint shop.

The bell rung out, and you jumped onto the intruder's back in an instant, ready to fight, but then you saw the patriotic get up, and knew he was not the enemy in this current predicament.

"Y/N?"

You slowly fell from his back, then rounded the man to face him. "Depends, what's it to you?"

"Natasha sent me after you," he relayed, and you rolled your eyes. "That woman, I swear, it's like she forgets I'm trained for this shit."

"You're an agent?" you shrugged. "Something more in between trained agent and stylist."

"I saw her tough resolve crumbling only a few minutes ago," he admits. "I honestly haven't known her more than a few hours, but she doesn't strike me as the type to break easily."

"She isn't," you whisper, then meet the man with a frown. "Take me to safety I guess."

He escorts you out, and it's when an alien runs by with its razor sharp talons ready to strike that he realizes you were safer indoors. "Uh," he turns you back around, then puts you in your office, using your bookshelf he blocks the window, then from outside your door he moves another shelf full of products in front of it.

"We'll come collect you shortly, Natasha is currently working on closing the blackhole."

"Okay!" you shout back amusedly, then you pull up Scandal on your laptop, and hope Nat forgives you for watching the next episode without her on account of emotional distress.

——

Natasha took the elevator down Stark's ginormous tower, then she ran to your shop without taking a moment to catch her breath after she had successfully closed the portal. Once she arrived she barged through the doors only to groan at her newfound obstacle.

"Are you watching Scandal without me?" she grunted through the blocked door as she heard the familiar start up tune while she was trying to use her remaining strength to move the hefty, fully stocked set of shelves. Once she's successful she barges in with a deep scowl.

"The sky was falling..." you shut your laptop guiltily, then slowly made your away around your desk to pull the dirtied woman into you.

"Yeah, it certainly was," she melted into you, honestly she was too tired to further scold you over something so mundane, especially after she already spent the entire day bickering with egotistical men, then as if it was a cherry atop of a shit sundae, she had to fight ugly aliens.

"Sit down love, I'm gonna clean you up."

"Detka," you hummed while maneuvering around the shop to collect your hair products and first aid kit. "Would you like to meet the team today? We're going to get Shawarma."

"Who's really left to meet?" you teased, and she lowered her voice to imitate the men, "Bruce, the Hulk, and Thor, the God of Thunder."

"I'd love to go with you Nat, thank you," you lightly kissed her split lips. "Just maybe after I rinse your hair and disinfect these cuts."

"Fair enough."

—

Natasha was fatigued beyond recognition, so you had her hop onto your back, she protested softly, but the second her feet left the ground you felt her sigh against your back. "Comfy?"

The redhead nodded, then to further prove your suspicions she yawned, "It's just up the street detka, they're probably already eating."

Natasha rested as best she could on your trek to the family owned restaurant that managed to remain unscathed unlike the neighboring stores surrounding it that laid in ruins. Once you got to the door though she dropped from your back, then like the gentlewoman she was she opened the door for you, and escorted you to the table where she took her rightful seat.

There wasn't another open for you since they weren't expecting a plus one, but that didn't matter much, because to make the message clear to the unknowing men gawking at the both of you, Nat pulled you into her lap and kissed you oh so tenderly. Steve blushed at the unfamiliar sight, Tony smirked, and Clint was expectedly unbothered as he stuffed his face.

Thor too seemed unbothered as he asked for someone to pass him the 'sauce that burns his tongue in ways he enjoys.' Bruce, the reserved one looked a bit taken aback, and almost hurt if you cared to look at him, but he shook off his unfair jealousy, then politely shook your hand.

"Lovely to see you again Zoe."

"Zoe?" Steve looked between the three of you, and you and your lover knowingly chuckled. "Tony, and everyone else I guess, this is Y/N, my girlfriend of a years time, and that's all I will be disclosing, so avert your eyes and eat."

Tony didn't care about her disinterest, he was too busy having an epiphany, and so he gasped obnoxiously loudly, "You two got together because of me? Wow! You're both welcome."

—

"Your little team of superheroes seemed," you paused to mull it over while ripping the sheet back, slipping under the cool fabric, and opening your arms wide for the cuddle fiend that was your girlfriend to crawl right on into.

"Insufferable? Pig headed? Inept besides Clint, and even then I might be being too nice?"

Natasha smiled against your neck as you tried to temper your exhausted cackle. "I was going to say potentially incorrigible, but for the sake of mankind's survival I hope they're not."

"Yeah, me too, because as of right now it's an overload on testosterone, and I think if history has taught us anything, it's that that's usually the greatest indicator for eventual disaster"

You snorted at your lovers tired grumbling, "Yeah, but with you there to lead, it'll be fine."

"I sure hope so," she yawned, "Goodnight Y/N, I love you." Your body tensed, but when you looked into her murky eyes you could see that the exhaustion brought it on, but it was the truth nonetheless. "I love you too Natasha."

A smile wider than the state of Texas spread against your skin, followed by a smattering of tired, soft kisses as she nuzzled further into you., "YA sobirayus' khranit' tebya vechno."

(I'm going to keep you forever.)

"What was that?"

"You're a dead woman walking for watching Scandal without me, you better sleep with one eye open," she nipped your skin teasingly and you slapped her butt warningly. "Mhm, sure..."

As you both slipped away into a state of bliss Natasha couldn't fathom how she got so lucky to have found you, and you pondered learning Russian, because you loved her enough to.

2014

"Natasha, sit still," you commanded, the ability to straighten her hair as she asked of you was almost nonexistent with the way she moved.

"I'm sorry detka, I-I," she paused, her thoughts were jumbled with all the anxiety she's been feeling since her mission with Steve yesterday.

"What is it?" you settled the straightener down, then spun her around to face you, and in the cutest way possible she reached for you then pulled you into her lap so she could bury her face in your chest. "My favorite stress balls."

"Natasha," you warned, but the bite in your tone was nonexistent, and you found yourself laughing lightly along with her. "What? The world is an absolute garbage fire, but when I'm here, with my face in your breasts it's alright."

"I can't stand you," you groaned, and she shifted to look at you with a quirked brow., "Good thing you're sitting down then, huh?"

"Natasha, I swear to God!" her face smushed back into your breasts, but this time she was blowing raspberries, and you were aghast, “You’re a fucking pervert,” she laughed wildly as the words left you in a near shriek.

“I’m a pervert for only you,“ she pecked your lips, a sigh of relief brushing across your face as she feels her anxieties melting away so easily when she’s touching you—you’re her peace.

The sound of her pager going off like crazy ruined the whole vibe, “What now? Was me commandeering an entire ship not enough?”

Natasha’s face fell though as she read the tiny script: ‘Fury’s been compromised—hurry.’

—

The drive to the hospital was fast, you held on to the handle tightly as she swerved between lanes. Even in her frenzied state she settled a hand over your thigh to offer comfort, and in the moment when she had nothing but time to think she curses herself for letting you come.

If someone is after Fury, and they see her in the hospital she’s going to be a follow up target, and by bringing you she’s made you one too.

With your hand in hers you both entered the hospital, Maria and Steve were there to greet you both, and as they brought you to a window you saw the elder man in a state of disarray. Then before any words could be muttered his heart monitor went haywire, then he flatlined.

Natasha cried into your shoulder for all of two seconds before she was pulling it together. Her jaw clenched at the thought of leaving you, but she had no choice, so she kissed the corner of your lips, “I have to go,” Natasha held her hand up when you tried to follow her, “I’m okay,” she tossed Maria the keys, then soon disappeared.

You went to chase your girlfriend down but Maria stopped you, “Come with me, Nat’s not going to stop until she has answers, and you’re not safe if you go home since you came here.”

“Oh,” you nodded, then followed her instead.

—

Natasha entered the facility you were being held at with a deep scowl on her face, it didn’t exactly melt away at the sight of you, but it definitely lessened when you embraced her. Maria’s hold on her was nonexistent now as you took over escorting her to a chair for the doctor. Her subtle wince caused you to let go, and you made quick work of her jacket so you could see what happened, and you gasped.

The doctors rushed you aside, then fixed her up remarkably fast, and once they moved you tried to lean in for a kiss, but Natasha evaded your affection with ease, it was so subtle the way she leaned her forehead to yours, but you still felt the sting of her rejecting affection. It terrified you to think that after everything you have overcome together that she’d retreat now.

“I’m okay detka, I’ve experienced worse,” she tried to play down the wound, her voice wasn’t much above a whisper as she tried to keep the moment specifically between the two of you, but she didn’t succeed because you were on your feet, and slamming a fist into Steve.

“How could you let this happen to her?” You glared at the man, but you could see the guilt on his face ran deeper than her being wounded, “Why do you look so guilty Steve? What is it?”

Natasha glared at the super soldier, she told him that what happened on the escalator was self preservation, and that she’d tell you, but he was about to blurt it out, and humiliate you.

“Natasha kissed me,” he squeaked, blue eyes widening as he saw the murderous redhead jump to her feet, “I-It was only—,” you shook your head, a sign that the man took as your disinterest in his blubbering explanations.

Instead you turned to look at Natasha, who was quick to soften her gaze as your eyes locked, a tense silence befell the room because no one knew what was about to happen. Natasha did though, she knew you were silently assessing, and when you smiled softly at her she relaxed.

“I’m sorry you had to do that my beloved,” you coo, then entered into her good arms embrace, “It must’ve been a hardship for you to kiss a man seeing as how you’re not into them.”

Maria smirked, but then upon seeing Fury’s expression she cleared her throat, and began to debrief the room about Hydra’s infiltration. You sat in Nat’s lap while they discussed the miracle of Fury’s survival, and you hardly paid attention, your eyes transfixed on Nat instead.

Which is why when Fury muttered, “Can't kill you if you're already dead. Besides, I wasn't sure who to trust.” You watched as Natasha’s eyes glazed over, and that had you seeing red.

“She took a bullet trying to avenge you, and you don’t know who you can trust?” You made your way over to the man, and slapped him across the face, and Nat tried to pull you away, “Detka, calm down.” But it was of no use.

“No? Absolutely not,” you brushed her off, then turned to point a finger at everyone present, “You all disgust me with how you treat her. Like Natasha is just an expendable asset, but she isn’t, she has a family to come home to and I’d appreciate it if she came back to us alive.”

The room was silent besides everyone’s varying breaths, yours being the loudest as you were feeling rather irate by the audacity in the room. Natasha took tentative steps, her hand turning you by your shoulder so she could look at you.

“I promise I’ll return to you tonight, and I’ll have Maria here take you back home so you’re comfy. She’ll stay with you until I get there,” you pouted, and she desperately wanted to kiss it away, but she simply refused to until her mouth was cleaned of Steve’s existence.

“What do you want for dinner?” Natasha laughed at your sweet question, “You pick.”

You nodded, then placed a kiss to her cheek before shifting to face the others, “Keep her safe, or I swear to God you will all regret it.”

—

Natasha entered your house in a stagger, her heart was nervous for a whole great deal of things, most importantly being you leaving.

“Welcome home Romanoff, I’ll be going.”

“Thanks Maria,” she squeezed the redhead’s shoulder, then yelled her goodbye to you.

This prompted you to race into the living room to see Natasha stood there in one piece, but her eyes spoke of a separate form of shattering. When she fell to her knees a second later you were right by her with no regard to your knees.

“Natasha, what is it?”

“Please don’t leave me,” she sobbed, “I can’t do this without you, I won’t survive—I won’t!”

“Hey, hey,” you settled on your butt then yanked her trembling form into you, “I’m not going anywhere, where is this coming from?”

“I had to air out all of Shield’s dirty laundry,” she started, her hand shaking as you clasped yours over it and you sent her a reassuring smile, “That included all the darkest parts about my past, once you see it you’ll leave.”

“Natasha, your past doesn’t define you, no one is free of skeletons in their closet, and yours were never yours to bare the reprimand for,” you cupped her cheek, and brought her gaze back to yours, “I know your heart Natasha, and whatever those files say doesn’t change that.”

“Matter of fact, they don’t matter, and I won’t even be reading them,” you announced, and her tears finally spilled over, “Thank you…”

“Don’t thank me Nat, you deserve to tell me whatever you want, when you’re ready, not when the world forces you to.”

“I love you Y/N,” she jolted up and caught your lips in a kiss, her mouth tasted of mint, and you smiled at the thought of her probably having brushed her teeth in some drug store just so she could kiss you when she got home.

“I love you too Natasha, you’re stuck with me.”

She smiled against your lips, “Really?” and when you nodded she smiled even wider.

“Marry me then,” she blurted the hopeful words against your lips, then she pulled back with pinched brows as she awaited an answer.

“Seriously?” she nodded, and watched how your eyes now filed with tears, “Of course.”

Natasha kissed you even harder this time, a symbolic sealing of the deal she reasoned.

“Is that borscht I smell?” you nodded with a breathless sigh to follow, and she smiled in pure adoration, “Might as well marry you now, my pretty little housewife in the making.”

“Do it,” you challenged, and she met that with a bruising kiss to which she instantly deepened, her silent promise that she’d be keeping you here until the ready borscht likely went cold.

2016

Natasha woke up next to you this morning, and for a few moments everything just felt right. Then she was called into work only to be met with a scraggly old man in a suit, who laid out a packet thicker than her arms all in the name of containing the Avengers. Tony's argument felt right, it seemed the only option that kept the team safe, but more importantly all together.

Steve didn't agree though, and in a few short hours he became a wanted man, alongside his old pal Bucky, his new pal Sam, her best friend Clint, a shrinking man she'd never met named Scott, and the rightfully terrified witch, Wanda.

Nothing felt right anymore, and as the lot of them fought against one another she knew it wasn't going to end well. Her plans to marry you this Fall would have to wait as she attacked TChalla, and allowed Steve and Bucky to flee.

In less than an hour she was back at the compound collecting her arsenal of weapons, and ignoring Tony's venomous words only spat to hurt her as she rushed off to be on the run.

This life wasn't new to her, being on the run was second nature for the reformed assassin, but now, at this stage of her life it was cruel. There was no easy way to tell you, the love of her life, that she had to leave, but as she raced up the stairs to your shared bedroom she found you sat on the edge of the bed in a fit of tears.

You knew...

"Malysh." you lunged into her open arms, sending the both of you tumbling into the carpeted floor where she held you very tightly. "It'll be okay, I promise, I'll find my way back."

"Back?," you croaked, head shaking rapidly as you refused to accept this., "I'm coming with."

"Not this time Agent.," you sobbed even harder as she cupped the back of your head while sitting you both back up so she could look into your eyes, even if the sight broke her in two., "Liho, and Tabby need you moya lyubov'."

"I need you," your voice cracked, and the tears she managed to keep at bay began to stain her cheeks at the dire situation at hand., "I know detka, I need you just as much as I do oxygen."

"Please, let me come with," you pleaded, hands clinging to her jacket in desperation, and you pulled her in for an equally as desperate kiss.

"This is going to test us," she panted after she managed to pull away from the liplock, her usual sparkling green eyes were dull as she looked into yours now. "But please, don't tell me that if I leave that you won't be here when I get back, because I promise you I'll be back."

"Be careful," you relent, and lean in to kiss her far more gently now, her hands that were sat on your hips gripped you tighter, she needed to feel you, because there was no telling when she would have an opportunity to do so again.

"I always am," she whispered, a soft smile pulling her at lips as she looked into your eyes. "My love for you is all the inspiration I need to make it back to you in one piece," she pecked your lips, then lifted both of you to stand.

"I love you Natasha Romanoff," she brought your entwined hands up to her lips where she pecked each knuckle until she reached your pitifully bare ring finger, where her soft lips lingered., "And I you, Y/N Romanoff."

The sound of sirens in the distance put a rush on your goodbye. "Until we meet again," you smiled sadly as she hopped onto her bike with two ill prepared duffles. "Until then my love."

2018

"Natasha, where are you going?" she peered over to Steve with a sad smile. "I'll be back, I just need to see someone first," and before anyone could protest she was leaving the room.

She was still on the run, so she had to be cautious about how she went about her route. Ross wouldn't have trouble getting her if she walked right into your establishment, and she would never put you in such a position. So she texted you from a burner phone instead, and that's how you found yourself in a quaint diner.

"Natasha, please tell me you didn't," your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as the now blonde approached you with a mischievous grin. "What, you don't like the new hair?"

"I-I," you were thrown, because of course you did, she could pull anything off, but you also knew her resources were limited, so this was likely a very cheap dye job and it made you sad for all the progress you made keeping her hair healthy over the years. "You're beautiful Nat."

"It'll grow back out my love, and then I'll leave it for only you to handle, I promise."

"So I can go with you on the run this time?"

Natasha shook her head, and pulled you in for a hug that nearly crippled her after so long without your body flush to hers. "I'd never let you do that, you're undeserving of such a life."

"All I want is you Natasha, I don't care." she smiled sadly, "I know, but it doesn't matter, because there's no more being on the run."

"Really?" she nodded with a bright smile. "After we win, I'll be back for good malysh."

"Good, I can't stand another two years Nat."

"You won't have to," she smiled as you leaned into her, and she unexpectedly sobbed as you pressed your lips to hers, "I missed you Y/N."

"I missed you too Natty.," you reached up to wipe away her tears, then pecked her lips once more knowing she had to go, "I'll be waiting."

—

They lost, half of everyone turned to dust, and you weren't answering your fucking phone.

You always answered your phone.

No matter what.

Natasha felt waves of pure panic, the contents of her stomach were emptied on the jet, and even though her limbs ached she ran to you.

She had to get to you, there was nothing else she needed more right now than your love.

The doors of your shop flew open, causing her to cough as clouds of dust swirled at the action.

"No...," She fell to her knees besides the chair, your phone laid shattered on the floor in a pile of dust and various hair clippings with an unsent message: "I don't feel good Natasha."

Natasha didn't feel good either, and she would never again if she had to live without you..

2023

“Hey Nat,” Steve greeted as he stepped into the meeting room to find her quietly sulking over a halved peanut butter sandwich. “You okay?”

“Your friend is fine,” she answered almost too quickly for the words to be true, and the older man sighed with the truth weighing on his mind. “Don’t you think it’s time to move on?”

“If I move on, who does this?”

“Maybe nobody, threats have been almost nonexistent Natasha, the oceans are more clear, the grass is real, and the sky is bluer.”

“If you think there’s a bright side to half of the population being dusted you’re honestly not the righteous man I thought you to be Steve.”

“I’ve become a realist in my old age Nat, you deserve to be happy, Y/N wouldn’t want this.”

“Don’t you ever bring her up to push your agenda Rogers,” she growls through gritted teeth, and the man yields upon seeing her eyes of fury paired with a clenched jaw and fists.

“There’s no moving on without her Steve. I’ll search until I’m old and grey for a way to get her back because she’s worth fighting for.”

Steve sighs, “I understand, I was just trying to help is all, I hate seeing you so down.”

“You can’t help me Steve, it seems no one can.”

Natasha slumped back in her chair, and just as her eyes went to close she got a notification from Friday that someone was at the gate.

“Hello?”

Natasha immediately turned to see that the man she knows as ‘Antman’ was stood outside, which made her jolt up because he was presumed dusted, and upon letting him in she realizes that she was l wrong, someone can help her, she just has to l pay the arrogant billionaire a visit and hope he’s down to help.

—

Tony was reluctant to help, but at the thought of Peter, his prodigy, he was in, and Natasha was elated at the promise of undoing the mess. Having you back in her arms was all she needs, and after a few days it’s looking promising.

Clint returned with a baseball glove, showing the mission would succeed as long as all parties did their part. For the most part that was true, but someone had to pay the ultimate price, and then some cosmic fluke, one that Tony himself predicted, occurred as a past Thanos emerged.

It was a gruesome battle, it seemed like the loss of Steve on Vormir was all for not, but then the fruits of their labors came to light as loads of portals opened and all those dusted emerged.

“Avengers Assemble!” Natasha aired out the war cry, a new wave of adrenaline fueling her aching body as she charged at the enemies with the knowledge that you were back to fight for.

—

Natasha sprinted from the battle field as soon as Thanos's army became nothing but dust, her legs were nearly out of commission, weighing as heavy as her heart did with the losses of the unforeseen battle, but she refused to stop until she had you, this time she knew she would.

All her friends were back, so you would be too.

Five years she'd been deprived of you, and she refused to go another minute, she promised you it wouldn't be two like before, but she never realized in doing so she sealed herself to a far more daunting, and lengthier fate.

Much like before the doors to your shop fly open, but this time you're there to look up at the sound of the familiar ding, and you don't have time to ask questions before the love of your life is sobbing loudly against your chest.

"You're here," you hear the pain in her words, to you it had only been an hour since you last felt her touch, but the sight of her changed look told you that it had to have been longer for her.

"I'm here," she gripped your shirt as you went to move, her inability to let you go actually broke your heart in two. "I'm not going anywhere love, just going to sit us down."

Natasha let you go rather briefly, allowing you to settle into the reclining lounge chair in your office, and she straddled you just as soon as your butt made contact with the plush fabric.

"You weren't waiting," she sobbed, fists now clutching your shirts collar while her hazy eyes met your soft pair. "We lost, so you were gone."

The words were enough for you to understand something magically mysterious took place, and that was good because the redhead wasn't able to elaborate, her body racking with more sobs as she reflects on her forced solitude.

With a gentle hand on the back of her head you guided her face into the crook of you neck, you felt as she took in a sharp, deep breath, and how her lip subsequently quivered right after. Her arms then forced their way between your back and the soft material of the recliner so that she could hold you impossibly closer, in direct response you copied her embracement.

After a half hour her sobs faded into hiccups, but your hand rubbing random shapes over her suit continued, even if she could barely feel it. The motion still brought her comfort, and that's all you could try to do here, there was no relating to her pain, you understood the forced solitude, but you can tell hers was far crueler.

"How long?" You started simple, but she still struggled to answer you, it hurt too much to verbalize her former reality. "F-five years."

"Oh my love," you brought her face out to look in her eyes, hands cupping her cheeks so softly as if she were made of glass. The red rimming of her eyes, and tinting of her nose broke your heart, knowing that she was likely in a state of perpetual disarray while you were gone hurt. "I'm so sorry I wasn't waiting," you kissed away the new tears as they fell. "I'm here now baby."

"I need to feel you, please, show me it's real," she pleaded, her hands already tugging at the hem of your shirt, so you sat forward to help her remove it, then you moved a hand to the front zipper of her suit, "Take it off, please!"

It'd been seven years since Natasha felt you like this, with your skin on hers it felt like a dream, like one she frequently had while on the run, but couldn’t bring herself to with you gone.

Natasha whimpered when she felt you shifting so you could set her on the chair, but she was quick to settle when she realized you were going to undress completely for her, her eyes were trained on you without ever wavering. When you slid your pants off, along with your underwear she was gasping in pure shock.

“Fuck, detka,” you smirked in amusement when catching her eyes curiously staring at the strap, “I told you baby, I’d be waiting for you.”

It clicked, and as it did she was pleading with you to give her all of you with lust burning behind her eyes, pupils darkened to the point that they seemed like a black hole ready to consume you whole, and that had you on her in no time at all, soft lips exploring her bareness.

"My sweet Natasha, you've been through so much," you acknowledge, lips pressing to scars you'd never seen before, and your heart ached. "I'm sorry you were alone for so long, but I'm here, and I'm going to take good care of you."

Natasha's entire body shivered as you ran the hard silicone through her folds, collecting her arousal so that you could enter her with ease.

“I know you want my cock baby, but please, can I taste you first?” she nodded vigorously, her hands quick to push you lower, and you snorted, “Thank you angel,” you took a deep breath in, feeling yourself salivating as you smelled her arousal, “Oh fuck, you smell heavenly, you’re still my sweet girl, right?”

“Mhm,” Natasha hummed softly, need too heavily clouding her mind to answer properly. Then she was too busy moaning as your tongue expertly swirled around her clit before it was prodding at her entrance in a teasing manner.

Mewls of pornographic proportions tumbled passed her lips as you worked her up to the edge, she hadn’t been turned on in actual years, so this was not going to be a long fuck.

You were just too good with that tongue of yours for her to hold back much of anything; her hips were frantic as they fucked her cunt into your mouth to help her get off faster; her walls fluttering around your thick pink muscle, leaving it without much wiggle room but you sure made it move; and those screams of hers were uncontainable as you sent her crashing head first into the most intense orgasm ever.

“Fuck, oh my god, please don’t ever stop!”

“I never plan to,” you murmured against her bundle of nerves causing her body to writhe as the pleasure only further coursed through her.

Natasha was panting like she’d just run a marathon, and quite honestly she’d done just about that to get to you from the intense battle. Regardless of her inability to breathe though she yanked you up and into her for a kiss that was nothing short of messy, and thrilling.

While your tongue explored her pliant mouth you reached down to line yourself up with her needy entrance, “Going to fuck you so good,” you pulled away from her lips to catch sight of her face as you thrusted completely into her.

Natasha didn’t disappoint you either, her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she was so overwhelmed by your intrusion that she was choking on the air she’s gasped in, her mouth was agape but she was too dumbed to breathe.

“Breath for me baby,” you pulled out, just to shallowly thrust back in, teasing her back down to earth, “Please, I-I need you inside so bad.”

“I know you do baby,” you smiled down at her, then watched as she involuntarily bit back a moan when you refilled her to the brim, “None of that now, I want to hear how good you feel.”

With your arms now hooked underneath her thighs as your hands reached up to fondle her breasts your thrusts were hitting even deeper. Natasha was cursing lowly in Russian, a sure way to let you know she was going to cum any second now, and you knew just what to do.

Natasha loved the idea of being yours, and she loved it even more when it came with marks.

It was an earth shattering occurrence really, you kept your pace pleasurably slow, as you began to nibble over the skin of her jaw, one of your hands continued tweaking her nipples in dizzying oscillations, as the other ventured down to rub tentative circles against her enlarged clit, “You’re close, aren’t you baby?”

Natasha whimpered with her head thrown back into the pillow, her ability to answer was lost on her as your mouth suctioned against the sensitive expanse of her throat, leaving behind marks she would never dream of covering up.

“Let go baby, drench my cock,” you bit into her pulse point, and Natasha couldn’t refrain from screaming your name in a sequence of praises.

Everything about you made her lose every ounce of composure she’s ever been trained to keep. Your smiles melt her stoney heart, and yours giggles basically annihilated her chance at ever wanting to be an Avenger ever again.

All she wants now is to retire with you, and start a family, because you’re her endgame. Nothing else will ever matter more than you.

While buried deep inside her, here you hover over her with a warm smile, you just recked her but still you manage to lean down to whisper sweet nothings in her ear as she comes down.

“How are you feeling my love?”

Natasha smiled up at you with glistening eyes, “Like I can finally breathe again, I missed you tremendously detka,” her lip wobbled slightly as you whispered against her, “Let’s go home.”

—

Natasha happily took you home on her bike as soon as she calmed down from her high, the trek was short, but meaningful as she felt you clinging to her the entire way home, the tight embrace was healing her tattered soul with every second she was able to experience it.

The two of you shared a sweet kiss as soon as you got off the bike, your lover was reluctant to let up, but she had no choice as you swept her off her feet. Natasha squealed with laughter as she settled into your arms, she admired you fondly, heart fluttering with hope as you carry her over the threshold as if you’d finally wed.

“Welcome home my beloved,” you kissed her lovingly, then let her legs drop softly, while swiftly wrapping your arms around her waist.

“I should be saying that to you,” she whispers, and you can hear the sadness in her tone, so you just pull her even closer, and kiss her deeper. “We both deserved to say it Natty.”

“I love the hair Natty,” you twirled the end of her braid in your hand, admiring the growth and dual tone, while your other ran up and down her back in soothing strokes. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you continued to play with her hair, slowly but surely you unraveled the braid, and admired the way her hair fell around her face, framing it beautifully and making you smile.

“You’re very beautiful,” you smiled wider as she blushed deeply, even in the darkness of your house you could see the red tinge of her cheeks, and how it steadily rose from her neck.

More than a decade of loving one another, and she still felt nervous whenever you spoke so tenderly to her. Treating her like a dainty flower instead of the venomous spider that hides in the petals, the one she herself feels a kinship with. You saw her for more than the world ever would. To you, she was just Natty.

“I was thinking of cutting it, but I made a promise to my favorite person, so I didn’t.”

“Oh Natty, my precious angel,” you pulled her face to yours, nuzzling your noses before you closed the minuscule gap, “You waited for me?”

The truth was right there for you to see, her eyes having returned to their natural green shone through with so much love, it was the purist kind, and you knew she meant it wholly. Nobody else would ever interest the redhead again, not when she has you as the blueprint.

“Of course I did, I’d have waited a lifetime.”

You smirked, “Yeah? I can just picture it now, grey roots, with a rich red that ombre’s to the blonde tips,” she slapped your arm, then played with you, “I’ll never go grey detka.”

“Maybe not with me here to dye your hair,” you teased while escorting your fiancée up to your bedroom so the both of you could shower.

Loud meows reverberated off the walls, and your heart cracked when you saw your not so little babies stretching on the mattress, “Oh my have you two grown,” you dropped to your knees and nuzzled your face with theirs.

Natasha stood in the bathroom doorway with a sad smile, she’d started the water already, and now she’s taken to watching you reacquainting with your felines. “They missed you just as much as I did detka, they meowed at the front door for a whole year before they gave up.”

“You never gave up,” you whispered, overcome with so many emotions as you stroke over a new to you patch of grey fur on Liho’s back.

“I never would’ve detka, you’re my world.”

“Time is so precious,” you choked out before rising to your feet, and meeting Natasha with a wobbling lip and tight embrace, “I don’t want to wait anymore Nat, I want to be your wife, move to Norway and start the rest of our lives.”

“Can Norway become Ohio?”

You quirked a brow, but nodded without any hesitation, “Wherever with you works for me.”

Natasha beamed at your words, “Perfect, we’ll leave tomorrow then, I have a house in our name, and someone special I want you to meet, and after you meet Yelena we’ll get married at the local courthouse with her as our witness.”

“Yelena?!”

“Yeah, I found her when I was on the run,” she smiled while pulling you under the hot stream, “But enough about all that, how about you give me a sneak preview of our wedding night?”

Natasha moaned when you pushed her against the marbled wall, “You’re going to regret that.”

——

13,049 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn 🥰

[ironunderstands]

Can we talk about how viewing the 2.0 argument scene between Ratio and Aventurine completely assassinates Aventurine’s character?

Like I’ve talked at length about how it doesn’t make sense for Ratio in the slightest, and how the scene logically doesn’t make sense either in other posts, but oh my god does viewing this argument as genuine DESTROY the entire point of Aventurines character.

In doing so, you take one of the smartest members of the cast, one whose greatest assets are his planning, calculating, and his amazing people skills, and you turn him into a helpless dumb idiot who can truly only ever succeed due to his luck… WHEN THE ENTIRE POINT OF HIS CHARACTER IS THAT HE IS MORE THAN HIS LUCK

Aventurine clearly planned (with some improvising) what he was going to do whilst on Penacony, with the end goal of sneaking his Aventurine stone into the dreamscape and getting the Jade stone inside of Penacony. A key part of this plan was faking an argument between him and Dr. Ratio in order to make Sunday think that they were:

a) On really bad terms, with Ratio completely and utterly doubting Aventurine’s success, the two of them not communicating properly, and Ratio playing up the arrogant asshole scholar to the nines, which would make the ever paranoid Sunday confident he could get Ratio to “betray” him.

b) Feed core aspects of Aventurine’s past to Sunday so the man can use it against him in Aventurine’s trial, so again, Sunday buys the betrayal plan.

c) Make Sunday think the IPC are utterly incompetent by “losing” the cornerstones so he lets his guard down and again, buys the betrayal plan. This is also particularly important for the Jade stone as it allows her to do whatever she’s planning on doing in Penacony much easier, because Sunday doesn’t even know he’s involved.

d) The meta, for the audience reason aka this is the first snippets of Aventurine’s backstory we get, and it’s necessary we know something about him before we get 2.1 which is entirely centered on his past + lore. Hoyo needs to give the players something to chew on and build hype before then, so this argument is story-wise a really good way to do that. 

Now, I’m going to list all of the examples I can think of to demonstrate how Aventurine’s incredibly well crafted plan becomes a clown fest and absolute plothole nightmare if you believe the 2.0 scene is genuine and everything Aventurine says and does there is real.

The arrangement of the cornerstones 

In viewing this scene as genuine, Aventurine gets so ridiculously lucky (even for him) about how the cornerstones are arranged in his stuff that the family stole. 

The scene goes from “ah yes, Aven planned to fool Sunday by putting the Jade stone in his bag and the Topaz stone in the box where his cornerstone should be, making Sunday believe he was trying to trick him with the Topaz stone being in the cornerstone box. While the “Aventurine” stone (it’s Jade) is in his bag, which Aven tries to pass off as being worthless, making Sunday think he fooled Aventurine. When in reality, Aven still has his own cornerstone he sneaks into the dreamscape, albeit broken at the bottom of the bag which he takes back after the ‘betrayal’”

And that amazing plan and demonstration of intelligence, ingenuity and sheer bravery will now get completly shoved aside when you misinterpret the 2.0 scene as genuine. This now becomes ->

Aventurine really is a fucking idiot who ruined everything and lost the cornerstones, for some reason the Topaz stone is in the box for the Aventurine one, Jades is in his bag for shits and giggle, definitely didn’t plan on sneaking that in further than her, and he broke and shoved the Aventurine stone in the bottom of the bag even though it should be in the Aventurine box because he felt it needs decorating or something.

SIDE NOTE: Aventurine saying “cornerstones” in the 2.0 scene is what clues Sunday into trying to get Ratio to reveal the location of the second one, because logically the only cornerstone Aventurine would have possession of is his own. Ratio also not being surprised of this means he’s aware Aventurine brought multiple cornerstones to Penacony, therefore he was in on the plan from the start because if he wasn’t, then Aventurine having more than just his cornerstone would surprise him. Moreover, Sunday would realistically be like “hmmm what do you mean CORNERSTONES” and go from there. 

It takes this brilliant plan and turns it into, “oopsies!1! Guess I got lucky this time again!1! That’s all I’m good for1!!! Don’t worry about how fucking random everything is and how it all magically and perfectly worked out in my favor1!!1” And like, just, god why, y’all cannot be serious. Then again people who think this haven’t at all bothered to think through the consequences of thinking this, so I’m not surprised they haven’t realized how stupid it all sounds when you take the time to spell it out.

Oh don’t worry, there’s more.

The Jade stone

Aven planning the Jade stone to be used as a dupe from the start now becomes, “wow! I’m so lucky these stones can easily passed as one another and that the Jade stone is in the right position for Sunday to buy it as Aventurine! I’m also glad that we somehow formed this portion of the plan after the Jade stone was already out of our possession! And that it magically was at the top of the bag right where Sunday would see it and buy its Aventurine!! So we can’t even double check if it’s believable!! I’m so lucky and everything works out for me!!” Like…. IX there’s a new void in town with the amount of gaping holes there are in this logic.

Ratio opening the Cornerstone box

If you understand this scene is acting, then Aventurine planned for Ratio to be able to open the box from the start, for one of two reasons. 

 a) He really did have access that kind of information which Aventurine could use in his plans, and Aven sought him out for this reason.

Or 

(the more likely of the two imo because why would Ratio have access to it?)

b) He taught the doctor beforehand on how and when to do it, either way, it was something Aventurine wanted to happen.

But misunderstanding this situation and thinking Ratio wasn’t let in on Aventurine’s plan leads to this mess:

a) Ratio did indeed have access to opening Cornerstone boxes pre-Penacony, and Aventurine is lucky that this somehow worked out for him perfectly, and that Ratio didn’t ask for you know, the cornerstones back himself prior to them getting confiscated. Also if Aventurine did form the plan pre-Penacony, he for some reason didn’t let ratio know this would be needed?

b) He didn’t know how to open it, so Aventurine managed to find the time between 2.0 and their conversation in 2.1 with Sunday to teach him despite not having the Cornerstone Box in his possession, and he also managed to convince Ratio of this whole betrayal plan DURING Penacony and have the man who supposedly went from hating him 5 seconds go to being completely on his side and willing to execute every part of Aventurine’s plan correctly down to the last minute detail and we see none of this change of art at all ever. Also tack the last part of this onto the rest of a because the complete 180 in attitude Ratio has to do in order to have the 2.0 scene not be acting is nuts.

And the last major reason I’ll bring up for now (sparing you the ratio character analysis be grateful) for why this makes no goddamn sense:

Time 

Ok, so let’s humor the stupidity and pretend like the 2.0 argument scene was genuine on both ends. This means that Aventurine somehow finds the time to do all this shit 

a) convince Ratio that no not everything’s wrong he’s cooking dw guys this will all work out, put your faith in me 

b) despite not having the cornerstones or his gift bag he magically forms an idea of how to fool Sunday with the way he remembers them being placed and he also manages to convince Ratio to go along with this 

c) Ratio finds time to meet with Sunday 7 hours before they meet with Sunday together to enact his part of the “betrayal” meaning Aventurine had to convince Ratio of their plan 7+ hours before their first scene together in 2.0

d) Ratio has to get back from telling the IPC Aven fucked up and lost the Cornerstones, which somehow has no other consequences for Aventurine

e) RATIO FIGURES OUT DORMANCY???

AND SOMEHOW, this all has to happen alongside the events of 2.0 and 2.1 we do actually see, because oh wait none of this fucking happens at all ever. We don’t see it. we don’t hear of it, and none of it doesn’t get implied  to have happened ever because guess what it doesn’t fucking happen, and even in the land of the dreams this level of time fuckery can’t happen. 

And if by some fucking miracle it did, that is horrific writing on hoyos part by not implying it even slightly and in fact implying the opposite because Ratio outright says he did everything according to Aventurines plan in their next meeting 

Now you can see clearly why having both of them being sincere in this conversation requires the most bullshit logic known to mankind, however some objectors might say that Ratio still could have been sincere in this to which I say no, for several reasons.

In what fucking dimension is Dr. Veritas Ratio agreeing to go on a suicide mission without a plan or any semblance of an idea of what Aventurine is going to do there? That man would sooner join the Genius Society than agree to that, we know good he is at planning and acting based on 1.6, do you seriously think he’s gonna go from that to “fuck it we ball in Penacony”

He clearly knew Aventurine prior. They have established nicknames for one another (Doc and Gambler), banter that only really functions if you have known someone for awhile, Aventurine seeing through Ratio (demo where Aven predicts how Ratio will react to what he says about him) and Ratio seeing through Aventurine (vial/note he gave to him, and Ratio knows the one person who can stop Aven is himself) you know, something people who just met don’t really have.  Did they also do team building exercises in that minuscule time frame or something? How did we go from “fucking kill yourself” to “me and the bestie”

The Final Victor lightcone 

This is an extension of the last point about them knowing one another prior, as although the implications of 2 are nice, this outright proves it. Canonically, lightcones are condensed memories (aka stuff that has happened in the past) and we unlock the Final Victor lightcone in the MOC shop at the very start of 2.0. This means that the events of the Final Victory lc have to happen prior to 2.0, because they are well, memories. Moreover, the description of the lightcone depicts Aventurine trying to convince Ratio of a plan/cooperation of some sort. Hmmm, wonder what that is, any guesses?

If that argument scene is genuine on Ratios end holy fucking shit please fire the writer who made it because that is the most OOC behavior from him ever. Veritas Ratio, judging and looking down upon a person for their education background/background in general. You know, the guy who defined by wanting to spread knowledge throughout the universe because he cares about other people and wants to help them become their best selves, as Ratio believes no matter who you are you are capable of intelligence and creativity. 

This guy judges people based on their background? This guy who tweaked the fuck out in 1.6 over the prospects of the fate of misfortunate people is judging people for being misfortune??!?

This guy who believes that no matter how many fuck ups a person makes, their life is worth living, is now completely willing to abandon Aventurine at a moments notices and give up on him, which the one thing he will not do?!?

The guy who urges his students to question everything, has forged his own path in life and is distinctly described as not being like other scholars now is buying hook like and sinker IPC propaganda about Sigonians? He’s suddenly being as much of a dick to him as the rest of the universe?!

Also, he clearly does feel bad about he says, because Ratio breaks character and apologizes. It’s brief, likely because a heartfelt one would undermine their plan, but it does give an idea of how Ratio is really feeling, because he is extremely convicted and genuinely believes the stuff he says, so he’s not gonna give retractions on how he feels unless that’s not how he actually feels. 

Sidenote: When people say “but Ratio called Aventurine a slur,” they aren’t entirely wrong but neither are they right. You see, the slur in question is actually the name of Aventurine’s planet, Sigonia. It’s just in the CN version, the name is slightly different and is clearly derived from a slur used against Romani people in Eastern Europe. There’s no doubt about this either they are basically the same word and honestly knowing this makes me extremely uncomfortable typing out the name of Aventurine’s planet, so I’m just gonna call it S from now on. I don’t think it’s really fair to Ratio to say he was calling Aventurine slurs, when it’s not the characters fault the planet Aventurine is from just IS one, which is what he was trying to refer to in the first place. That’s why people who saw the scene in the EN dub didn’t pick up on it at all, because the slur in question looks way different in English (starts with a g ends with a y if you need a hint). Since you are wondering, no, this doesn’t completely absolve Sparkle since she was still using racist stereotypes against Aventurine, although she didn’t necessarily call him a slur like people were saying. Side note over 

Pair this with the aforementioned 180 in personality Ratio would have to have, that horrendous ass planet name and the time bullshit and you get quite possibly some of the worst writing ever, oh my god kill it with fire 

Genuinely, GENUINELY if you think this through and are like “yup that makes sense!” there’s absolutely no hope for you. I understand that most people don’t think this through, but still, god how stupid this misconception seems when you lay it all out is baffling.

Oh, and for the one objector still remaining who is like, “but there is no evidence for Sunday watching them:

a) There is a Bloodhound statue in trailblazers room, used by the Bloodhound family to monitor rooms as part of security, Sunday as head of the Family has total access to security. Keep in mind that Trailblazers room was actually Aventurine’s, meaning Sunday was planning on monitoring him prior to the room switch, which I doubt he would give up because of it (honestly the room switch would make Sunday more suspicious). 

Conveniently, throughout the 2.0 conversation the left side of the room is cropped off, and we get the barest of sight on it, which reveals where there would be a bloodhound statue had their rooms been the same is a clock/time dial cat thing. 

Whose eyes are conveniently watching both of them talking. 

Here’s the full frame by the way

Considering bloodhound statues can disappear and there’s plenty of things in the dreamscape that can shapeshift (although this convo is outside the sweet dream), it’s not insane for me to suggest that Sunday was likely watching them through this weird clock/phone thing is it?

b) We know the dream pools get monitored as well, at least for people’s vitals and stuff, something which the Trailblazers learn after trying to find Firefly’s whereabouts. Considering the person we talked to was just the desk receptionist, it’s not insane to assume that the dream pools monitor other stuff as well

c) The TVs behind the pools. Sure they display things, but those ARE electronics and they can easily receive as well as they send out things. 

The point is, if Sunday wanted to watch their conversation, he absolutely had the means to do so, and trust me, he did infact watch it for several reasons.

“I heard you and your companion weren’t getting along very well” Sunday says this to Ratio in their meeting seven hours prior to when him and Aventurine go to meet Sunday. So far, their only interaction in Penacony had been that conversation, and as far as we know, Aventurine truly did check in when the astral express did. Therefore, how would Sunday know they hadn’t been getting along if it had only been such a short amount of time. Surely he wasn’t watching their one conversation in 2.0? No, he just summoned that information from the voices in his head silly!

Aventurines past. Awfully convient Sunday just happens to know that Aventurine is an Avgin, that he has a complicated relationship with his family and that he might want to destroy the world for several reasons. Wonder where he got those ideas from, must have read Aventurine’s wiki page I guess.

Sentencing Aventurine to death, which only makes sense Sunday would have the confidence to do this if he, idk, knew Aven already had an ongoing death sentence. Something which is not true, Ratio was lying when he said that without his Cornerstone Aventurine would be doomed to death, as although it’s not technically a lie, Aven’s sentence was absolved years ago, and Ratio implies it’s ongoing when it isn’t. Remember, if Aventurine is killed by Sunday, that’s massive leverage for the IPC, but if Ratio lies about Aventurine being less valuable to them, then Sunday gains the confidence to get Aventurine out of his way. After all, he doesn’t have the cornerstones anymore, so is functionally useless to them, at least in Sundays eyes.

Actually trusting Ratio. Had Sunday not witnessed their argument, it would be very hard for him to believe that Ratio would betray Aventurine, since if he wasn’t watching, he wouldn’t think things weren’t going smoothly on the IPCs end. However, Ratio berating Aventurine for his supposed failure and behaving like a completely arrogant scholar, and being entirely unwilling to give the other man a chance would naturally make Sunday start rubbing his hands together planning to get this piece of shit to backstab his colleague.

Really just an addition to point #4, but Ratio implies that he has absolutely no fucking clue what Aventurine has been doing on Penacony since the gambler won’t cooperate with the him, however, he does not seem surprised by Aventurine’s failure. Therefore, when the betrayal plan comes into action, Sunday buys that Ratio doesn’t know Aventurine’s plan, but he does know how Aventurine thinks, which lets Ratio manipulate him into buying it.

There’s more, but like, you get the idea, Aventurine clearly planned this all out from the start. And that’s why it pisses me off, because Aventurine is smart, Aventurine is SO SMART, but people refuse to think and shove that aside because they refused to put the 2.0 scene in the context of the rest of Penacony. 

It’s meant to seem genuine the first time around (even if past me literally concluded Ratio was being used as a plot device dude to how OOC he was being), however considering Aventurine’s whole plan hinged on a betrayal, you now as the audience have to go back and reevaluate every scene he’s in, including that one. 

I don’t blame people for finding the 2.0 scene uncomfortable or for disliking Ratio for it, however I believe it should be put into the context of the rest of the game, and understood for what it really is, rather than how people feel about it.

Because in doing so, in attempting to shelter Aventurine fans from the evil, racist Dr Ratio and Aventio fans. People who supposedly make Aventurine into some spineless, idiot twink who can’t do anything on his own, and is nothing more than his luck, You End Up Doing The Exact Same Thing To Aventurine.

In being blinded by bias, a brilliant demonstration of Aventurine’s intellect and competence gets erased, which is just really, really disappointing. 

Aventurine is so much more than his luck, and I wish people would actually internalize that, rather than just saying it.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading this, as I have talked extensively on how this misconception fucks up Ratios character, so I deemed it finally time to dive into it screws with Aventurine. Any and all thoughts are appreciated, and if you disagree feel free to share why, I just will only respond to actual reasons. A “nuh uh” is not worth my time or yours 

[cry-ptidd]

Nev, you absolutely brilliant and beautiful and talented mastermind!

I need to hear about your thoughts and opinions on pre-canon Alucard aka Dracula!

First of all anon I'm gonna kiss you and hug you and serve you burek with a warm drink and a smooch on the forehead

Second of all,

Long, long yapping below 👇 🗣️

Now, I don't know if you meant Dracula as in in-canon Hellsing Dracula or Bram Stoker's Dracula, so I'll do both thanks to the power of autism. Vlad III isn't included bc I don't wanna.

Also this is just my opinion and mild analysis of both medias, not a properly structured essay.

Dracula (1897) - Bram Stoker

Ok so first of all, Dracula is one of my favorite books. I adore gothic horror and the spooky melancholic supernatural atmosphere of most gothic novels. I consider Dracula a masterpiece of horror, even with its faults, idc.

The epistolary structure of it makes the horror progressive and building, despite the fact that alarm bells ring out every single second of Johnathan's stay at Chateau Drac. The various themes of temptation and danger and oh my god the danger followed me home oh god oh fuck are fascinating, and the human group is interesting (also Mina was done dirty).

But also, it's an inherently queer novel, which, as a queer person who loves horror, i adore. Bram Stoker was really fucking queer, but that's something he hated about himself and suppressed; it's no surprise that the count's entire character is so fruity in itself, he represents Stoker's own repressed queerness. Drac is, in the book, inherently sexual - the exchange of fluids to turn pure, virginal ladies into hot deadly sexy vampire seductresses, and the fact that he protects Johnathan from his brides and is always so... Like That with him makes him so interesting.

The scene where the count takes great offense at being told that he has never loved by one of his brides is one of my favorites in terms of characterization, because Dracula doesn't have any need to bullshit at that moment. He could've just told her to stfu and back off, or even let them eat Johnathan. But instead he gets offended because the remark hit a nerve. He wants to love and to be loved, but his methods are rather... unconventional and predatory to the Proper and Orthodox humans of the story. Rip Drac, you would've loved (and been loved by) today's monsterfuckers.

We're gonna ignore the fact that the supercool and awesome expert amazing professor Abraham Van Helsing is Stoker's self-insert and that he's the one that (or at least greatly helps the group) hunt down Dracula, the representation of unorthodox desire and sexy, vampiric existence.

Dracula in the Hellsing universe

Ok so this one is interesting.

First of all I want to address how fucking funny it is that Alucard tried to fuck both Mina and her husband and fumbled them both but that's a topic I think he'd get mopey and very bitter about so let's not.

Hellsing Dracula is really interesting. In the novel, we're not given the count's pov (why would we? He's the villain anyway.) but in Hellsing we do, and we get it very often. We know his childhood, his identity, but most importantly his philosophy and personality.

Alucard's personality changed a bit over the years:

Vlad was arrogant out of desperation and survival; he had to be strong, because if he's not then he'll be crushed and his prayers won't be heard by the god he worships with battle, and he "can't be defeated, ever." He can't afford to be.

Dracula was arrogant because he was powerful and unchained. He was the master, he was a monster not leashed by morality or conventionality and religion and even his body was above what a human could ever do. He knew he was a threat and he relished in it. How could any of those puny humans beat him? The Count Dracula? But they did.

Alucard is a snarky asshole that didn't lose any arrogance but it changed shape; it's not that he can't be defeated, it's by whom. He carefully chooses his fancied opponents and clings to them like a leech, at least emotionally, and puts them on this pedestal where they're the only ones who may. Any other fight is just to pass the time. Those sniveling cowards can't defeat him, but those proud human warriors can. And he's the one who decides what's worthy or not, because he's a top-tier level threat. (When he tried to stop Anderson from using the nail, he basically told him Anderson was created just to defeat him.)

But let's get back to Dracula here for a sec. That arrogance comes with any vampire because that's what they do, they're hot and sexy and broody and egotistical, stealing blood and beauty for their own sakes. But he's also really damn sad. I imagine that he gets bored after a while, after the novelty of cool supernatural tyranny wore off. The count has all reason to be confident; he's on top of the food chain in all aspects.

But what do you do when you're at the top?

You don't have anyone with you. Those brides are companions, not significant others, hell they're not even named in the novel or barely acknowledged by him. Those humans are prey, not equals. He can try to portray himself as basically animalistic, he has emotions and he doesn't like that he has emotions. He's just really fucking sad.

Like. This is literally the most pathetic man I've ever seen.

The fact that he doesn't seem to hold a grudge against Abraham and his crew - on the contrary, he seems to admire them and puts them on a pedestal - shows that he longed to be beaten. He was tired. He needed novelty.

Now i don't know what fucked up experiments Abraham did on that poor thing but clearly he wasn't as powerful as Alucard is, but I doubt that increase in power changed much of anything to be honest. Man is just as miserable as he was before, but now he actually has a purpose - he has someone to serve, a master, someone to cling to.

And boy does he cling to them.

He respects Abraham and Arthur, both men who've undeniably hurt him, Abraham with the experiments and Arthur by leaving him to rot for 20 years (understandable, yes, but still I wouldn't like it if that was me) and yet he's shown them great respect. It's almost Stockholm syndrome (something that I don't believe in and isn't backed by science, but the idea stands) and his idea of any kind of functional relationship is unfathomably fucked up.

I won't dwell on Alucard too much since this is about Dracula, but it's actually rather easy to piece together his mental state and outlook on life with the few pieces we got. Someone please come help this man.

That's that!

I would also like to shoutout to @catsvrsdogscatswin for their wonderful characterization of Dracula and Alucard altogether, but mostly in their fic Kaleidoscope, which is unironically and not hyperbole my favorite fic on ao3 up to date.

Seriously. Go check it out.

[kateswallofweird]

written with smallville!oliver queen in mind but anything goes. oliver queen x you ; wc will be added later

oliver queen, notoriously rich playboy (and the green arrow behind closed doors), is not amused when he meets you, the nosy reporter from the daily planet who doesn't have an ounce of self-preservation.

the first time oliver meets you is as the green arrow. slinging through the streets of star city, he's surprised to find some metropolis journalist so far from home. but more than that, he's shocked to see just how careless you are when you're chasing a lead. it's like you don't even care if you get hurt!

"for your information, i totally had that handled." you dusted off your pants and waved away the outstretched hand he offered.

he rolled his eyes under his mask. "you almost got your ass handed to you by that fence, which might i add is electrified."

"and that concerns bootleg peter pan because?"

at that he scoffed. "i'm—"

"the green arrow aka arrogant asshole vigilante, yeah i know."

"arrogant asshole is taking it a little bit far," he deadpanned.

you ignored him. "listen, i'm sure there's some damsel in actual distress out there for you to help, but i've got a story to chase on queen industries, mr. glorified leprechaun, so i'll take my leave now."

he watches you leave and a very tiny part of him smiles at the thought of you despite the sarcasm and biting insults.

the second time he runs into you, oliver is at a charity gala that queen industries is hosting to boost their publicity (or rather, their public image which has taken a dip in light of recent news). he sips leisurely on the glass of champagne as his eyes trail after you (because he wouldn't admit it, but you looked damn good in what you were wearing tonight).

"mr. queen, sorry to interrupt, but i'm with the daily planet," you flash your business card to him and try not to act surprised when he actually takes it, "i've just got a few questions for you."

"and this wouldn't be about the collaboration between queen industries and luthercorp on meteorite technology, would it? because that isn't public knowledge yet, and considering that we recently had a security breach," he looked at you squarely, "it'd be awfully convenient for you to have insider information regarding said breach."

you tensed under his gaze. technically, breaking and entering wasn't criminal unless you got caught, which you hadn't been. plus, it's not like you stole anything, you'd just been . . . exploring queen industries' laboratories for a scoop on their experimenting.

"i have my sources," you settled on saying. "unless you're accusing me of—"

he scoffed, and you frowned. it sounded familiar.

"no, i wouldn't be so much of an arrogant asshole to accuse you of such a thing," he quipped sarcastically, the comment slipping out before he could think twice.

that was definitely familiar.

"now that you mention it mr. queen, how are you so sure it wasn't that green masked vigilante that no one seems to know anything about that broke in?" you pressed on, gauging his reaction, "mr. glorified leprechaun could have been the cause of your security breach."

he didn't say anything nor give you the satisfaction you were looking for, but you'd gotten all the reaction you needed.

"i'll be seeing you around, mr. queen."

"that's not likely."

the third time oliver sees you is when his mask slips off his face from all the blood. he'd stopped in an alleyway briefly to catch his breath; he should have known better than to let his guard down.

the lit cigarette between your fingertips fell to the ground as your eyes widened with recognition.

"i knew it," you breathed. "oh, i fucking knew it."

and you're all but barreling over to him before he can stop you from coming any closer. he's bleeding from all over, bruised from the night's patrol, and he doesn't want to hurt you. not to mention, he's feeling faint—dangerously faint.

so he catches you in his arms just as you catch him.

"you can't tell anyone," he says before passing out leaving you with one hell of a problem on your hands.

i'm feeling a part 2 in the works

[invisiblequeen]

For @jonquilyst 's Total Drama Sims Season 2: Willabelle Lowes!

Name: Willabelle Lowes

Pronouns: She/Her

Orientation: Heterosexual

Traits: Tinker, Competitive, Arrogant

Aspiration: Goal-Oriented

Skills:

Likes: Pink, Purple, Green, Focus Music, World Music, RnB Music, Writing, Research and DEbate, Handiness, Fitness, Media Production

Dislikes: Gray, Kids Radio Music, Dancing, Video gaming, Mixology

Willabelle Lowes is a straight A 'd, punctual, organized student with her eyes set on the prize, no matter what it is. Her mom complains she "wins" too often, for fear that it'll go to her head. Well, mom, that ship has sailed. If you ask Willabelle (aka Willa or Belle) how much she thinks she knows, she'll give you the cutest smile and say, "You haven't heard? I'm a know-it-all!" telling you at once that she's heard this all through her childhood (from relatives and bullies) and no longer cries at the title.

She's on the road to valedictorian, has been accepted to two colleges, and still has time to practice parkour, stating, "One day I'll get on Simlish Ninja Warrior and win." Ironically, watching SNW is how she learned about the casting for THIS show.

High stakes? Check. Prizes? Check. A chance to endure the unendurable? This is her *dream.* No one will be winning this but her.

And when she does, every single asshole who ever attacked her will finally have to admit: "she *does* know it all."

WHAT DO YOU THINK?

[jarofstyles]

Teenage Dirtbag 4

Here he is… in all his asshole glory. The moment you’ve been waiting for.

Check out our Patreon!

Warnings: smut, degrading, kind of short Sorry bffs

———

Harry had this in the bag.

At least, he’s pretty sure.

4 tutoring sessions down and he and Y/N have developed a schedule. Harry managed to not be so late and Y/N kept things pretty civil- though her eye rolls and huffs when he would flirt with her did slip through. Of course he was laying it on thick and complimenting her intellect, which wasn’t fake. Y/N was without a doubt one of the smartest people he had ever come across. She had straight A’s across the board, knew every answer to his questions without even blinking an eye, and so far?

She had avoided hooking up with him.

Harry could tell that she was attracted to him, though, and he used it to his advantage. Taking note of what she stared at and doing the most he could to get her to look further. His ringed fingers seemed to be the biggest contender on that list. The efforts to brush his with hers wasn’t met in vain, Y/N jerking back only after letting him pet at her just a little. It wasn’t immediately either.

There was a tension that Harry personally found delicious. She was trying very hard to not let him know her attraction but Harry was far too detail oriented now that he was truly paying attention to the cues and a crumb of attention from her. And boy, did he try.

He would arrive with drinks in tow and a cake pop for her every time, attentively highlighting the assists he noticed her eyes lingering on- aka his arms and hands as previously stated. Cut off shirts with his arms exposed and shorts exposing his toned legs were added to it all, and he definitely caught her eying up his tattooed arms every session. It was a stroke to the ego and a fun challenge considering she would look irritated every time she caught herself getting lost looking at him.

Harry wasn’t used to people telling him no, and Y/N wasn’t used to anyone making her this insane. On paper, he wasn’t doing anything wrong. He was trying, being nice, doing his work as he had so dutifully promised. But the little things sprinkled in and added to her attraction to the man she most definitely did not want to be affected by. It hurt her pride to know that he was the one that had her sneaking her hand under the sheets at night. The object of her most salacious thoughts, the images of those strong hands and cocky smirk did things to her that she loathed. It should be illegal, how enticing a complete and utter dickhead could be.

Despite it all, the dickish smirks and the knowledge that he most definitely wanted her in his bed, she didn’t want to give in. She really, really, didn’t.

That didn’t mean Drunk Y/N was of the same opinion.

When she was sober, she would regret this. 100% beat herself up over it, cry maybe for letting temptation get the best of her, but the way his hands felt on her body as he backed her into the door in his room and the muffled thump of music drowned out the protests. Her body was screaming for it, screaming for his touch and some damn relief.

“Finally.” His husky voice rasped into her neck as his hand grabbed a handful of her ass, squeezing the plus flesh. His own drunken antics had been in his favor, letting himself be less arrogant and more honest about his want for her downstairs. The man hadn’t even expected her to come considering she knew this was his frat, but it was a very welcome surprise to walk into the kitchen to see her giggling with her friends. It was obvious to him that she was checking him out as her giggles stopped, his confidence swelling as he walked over to her. He paid no mind to her little friends as he leaned down and whispered a request for her to follow him to somewhere quiet they could talk.

His hand held hers as he led her up the grand staircase, passing the bodies entangled in their own embraces. It was slightly awkward, his hand tugging her faster to get to his own bedroom.

Y/N hadn’t been sure what to expect, but she had never expected clean and properly organized. The only thing slightly messy was a corner where his practice bag was laid open and his shoes spilling out of it. Otherwise, it was clean. Some classic rock posters hung upon on the walls along with a guitar, which did surprise her. He played guitar? She would shelve that thought for later.

He also had a wax melter. The smell was quite nice compared to the other boys rooms she had been in.

Her appraisal of the room was interrupted by his voice.

“I see how you look at me.” He started. “And m’not saying it to start a fight. I just.. notice. I want you to know that it’s the same for me and I can’t stop thinkin’ about you.” His voice was a slight slur as he grabbed at her waist. Y/N melted into it, her hands coming up to smooth over his chest, taking note of the sharpen and slope of his muscle.

Goddamn it.

“Harry…” she whispered. “I know, but.. its hard. You’re such a fucking ass, but you’re hot. I hate that you know it.” Her eyes met his coyly, finger coming up to his jaw. “This is sharp. And-and I hate that I’m always staring at you. Just want to tutor you and go home but you’ve got to go and be all.. all sexy and annoying and make me want to jump your fucking bones.” Her little huff made his cock twitch. Why did he find her irritation so hot?

“Because I want to jump your bones too, darling.” His coo was low, rubbing her hips and pressing her against the wood of the door. “Why don’t we just do it once, hm?” He lifted a hand to cup her face in return, ,glazed eyes taking in the softness of her skin and the brightness in her own eyes. It couldn’t be helped that his thumb brushed her lower lip. “Get it out of our systems.” His voice was like a damn siren call to her, and this was getting dangerous. Dangerous because she totally wanted to fucking do it.

“You think?” She croaked, lips brushing his thumb as she looked up at him in wonder. “We can just… do it one time? N’then… we can do tutoring and you can leave me alone?”

For some reason, the idea of leaving her alone for good sent a pinch into his chest, ,but he wasn’t going to think about that right now. This was the obvious solution. One single time with their irritation and passion, they could fuck it away. He could get his way and be a decent student for her when they’re doing tutoring work and just poke a tiny bit of fun, but the weight of their sexual tension wouldn’t weigh them down anymore. It would be perfect.

“Yes. Can we?” Their noses brushed, his mouth aching to attach to hers. “Please? Promise I’ll be good for it.” Harry could get on his knees and beg for it at this point. She could put him out of his misery of thinking about her every time he had to cum, of only craving her smart mouth and her snarky smile. It was driving him absolutely mad, and he wasn’t above begging her for it considering she was all over him too.

Y/N thinks it was the tiny hint of a whimper that broke her. Grabbing the back of his neck and pulling his mouth down to her for the roughest kiss she ever had in her life, she felt like she was possessed. Possessed with the need she had been repressing for so long, wanting this man’s hands on her. Dreaming about it, wanting to know if the rumors are true. If he was truly as gifted in the dick department as everyone seemed to claim.

He was.

Y/N was allowing herself to get lost in it.

Each drive of the thick cock inside of her had her thighs shaking, nails digging into his skin as she whined into the air. There was no doubt in her mind that she would regret it now because there was no way she wasn’t going to want this again. She wouldn’t- no. She would not give into him no matter how good this felt, no matter how perfectly curved he was and hit her spot perfectly over and over… she would remain strong. But this was her time to enjoy it.

“Fuck.” Her growl fed into his speed, hand wrapped around her throat as his mouth covered hers again. There was nothing calm about this. The bed frame hitting the wall as he buried himself inside of her, claiming his victory. The hot, wet cunt taking him greedily each time. His pants weren’t even off his ankles fully,. There had been no time to waste, pushing her on the bed and sliding into her welcoming cunt with a need he had let overtake him.

It was worth the wait. Worth the bickering. He never felt a cunt so perfectly wrapped around him- and he had been around the block a few times. Her hair haloed against his comforter, her heels digging into his back as he looked down at her body. The dress was messed up, cups of her bra strown to the side and breasts bouncing with each thrust- he had to take advantage. Taking one of the nipples into his mouth, teeth grazing as his cock rammed into her sopping wet hole, he knew he had won.

“One time only, huh?” He smirked at her as he popped off her nipple. Her hands had migrated to be buried in his curls, the fiery glare only spurring him on.

“O-only tonight.” She hissed back before tugging on his hair. A mistake, considering he let out one of the most erotic moans she had ever heard. Of course he liked a bit of pain, dick inside of her pulsing at the pressure of her grip.

“Mhm… sure. Like you won’t be gagging for it next time. I’ll-Fuck, this is perfect pussy.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “And it’s made for my cock. See? Should have just l-let me have it the first night.”

The cocky, arrogant son of a bitch. His heavy thrusts were perfect, hand covering her head so it didn’t knock into the headboard. “No. Never having it again. It isn’t yours.” The words were ruined with a moan, the fingers pressing into the side of her throat making her lose her train of thought. As much of a dick as he was- his cock was making up for it. Deep down she knew the truth. He knew the truth. It would be hard to stay away from him like this when it felt this fucking good.

“Whatever you say, princess.” She wanted to smack the smirk off his face, but resorted to tugging on his hair again. It did the job, melting the grin from his puffy lips and getting another groan.

“Shut up and do the one thing you’re good for.” The tone of her words had him throbbing. “Fuck me.”

[yuujispinkhair]

We never go out of style

The thing with Sukuna and you is that it's fun. It's fun to kiss him at parties and to take him home and sleep with him. It's fun to just have this casual little on-and-off romance with him because, after all, you both know that you will always come back to each other.

Aka, I listened to Style by Taylor Swift and got the biggest butterflies when I pictured a modern College boy version of Sukuna to this song.

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + smut, College AU Word Count: 2k Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of sex at semi-public/public places. Reader and Sukuna have an on-and-off fling, but both develop feelings over time. During one of their breaks, they both kiss other people and get jealous about it. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

You aren't even sure how you got into that on-and-off fling with Sukuna. It was supposed to be just a little fun at a frat party. A few heated kisses in the kitchen while you were sitting on the counter, and he was standing between your legs, one large hand cupping your chin and tilting your face up to kiss you in a way that made your head spin.

Just a little fun. Just a few sexy kisses with a sexy boy who had too many tattoos, too much confidence, and a reputation that should have sent you running.

You never planned to go home with him. But somehow you did, and somehow you ended up in his bed with him on top of you, in all his naked glory, tall and sexy with all those toned muscles and tattoos. And somehow, your hand was caressing his undercut and tangled in his slicked-back pink hair, ruffling it in a way that made him look almost cute. And somehow, the way he was grinding against you and fucking you into his mattress was the best sex you ever had.

Maybe that's why you walked over to him when you saw him on campus on Monday morning, leaning casually against a fence with sunglasses pushed up into his slicked-back hair, smirking that boyish smirk at you and lifting a large hand to wave you over with one long tattooed finger.

Maybe it was a combination of his skills in the bedroom and his confidence and boyish charm that made you agree to meet him again. Maybe it was the way he flashed you such an attractive smile when you said yes that made your knees feel strangely weak when you walked to your next class.

No matter what the reason was, ever since that day months ago, you have been in this little on-and-off fling with Sukuna.

Never quite the real thing, but also never not a thing.

Sometimes it's a few drunk kisses at a party, where you suck on his tongue and moan when he lifts you up to set you on the kitchen counter. Sometimes, it's loud, excited laughter and a fluttering pulse when he takes tequila shots where he licks the salt off your neck, letting his tongue-piercing glide over your skin. Sometimes, it's a wink and a flirty greeting while passing him in the hallway. Sometimes, it's a passionate hour spent in his bed, forgetting all the College stress when he dicks you down so good you almost cry.

Sometimes, you go weeks without talking to each other, both doing your own thing. But then you'll receive a text message at 3 a.m. asking you how you're doing.

"What's up, princess? Wanna meet up? I kind of miss your laugh."

You meet him every time. And it's always the same after a few weeks of not seeing each other:

A racing heart and a loud laugh when he stands in front of your door with a bottle of cheap wine and a single red rose. Needy, hungry kisses when you pull him into your apartment. Impatient hands tearing at each other's clothes as you stumble to your bedroom.

Your friends start to notice and ask you if you are dating Sukuna. You deny it, laughing and shaking your head. Who would be stupid enough to date him? You know this is something that only leads to a broken heart. No, Sukuna isn't someone for a relationship or anything serious.

But he is fun. So much fun. The bad boy with the charming grin. The arrogant asshole with the sweetest sweet talk you've ever heard. You know he is dangerous. A heartbreaker, a big flirt. Everybody wants him in their bed. He could have a pretty girl or boy on each finger.

You make sure not to get too invested. You keep it casual. A little fling when you feel like it. When you feel like getting fucked so good, you forget your own name. You make sure to push him away a little bit when things seem to become too intense.

You tell him you won't have time for him during the following weeks because you have to study. He doesn't have to know that, in reality, it's because you can't get his stupid charming smile out of your mind or because you catch yourself rolling over in your bed one night and sighing "Kuna" when you think you can still smell his cologne on your pillow where he slept a few nights ago.

This is dangerous territory. It's best to keep your distance for a while. You go out with your friends. You go to bars and clubs Sukuna doesn't frequent, meeting new people, flirting with someone new, maybe kissing one or two others just for the fun of it because you are young and free and you can do whatever you want. Or maybe it is to convince yourself you aren't falling for a pink-haired bad boy with the world's most charming smirk.

Your dormmate asks you if you and Sukuna broke up because lately, she hasn't seen him leave your room in the mornings with his hair ruffled and hickeys adorning his neck.

Another friend of yours approaches you with a sympathetic look and gently informs you that they saw Sukuna with some other girl last night, kissing her against the wall at a party.

You smile through all the comments, shaking your head and brushing it off.

"Oh, that's fine. We aren't dating or anything like that. He is just a little fling. It's not that serious!"

You try to ignore the uneasiness those comments cause. You smile and buy a new sexy outfit, and go to more bars to kiss more strangers, and Sukuna does the same.

Until you bump into him at another party. You turn the corner after grabbing a drink from the kitchen, and suddenly, you run into his tall, muscular figure, your face practically knocking against his chest. And he laughs and raises an eyebrow at you while his maroon gaze trails lazily over your body.

"It's been a while, princess. How was the studying?"

"It was good..."

"What were you studying again? Making out with strangers in bars?"

His eyes glitter challengingly, and his velvety low voice is carefully playful and teasing, but you can hear the edge in it. You glare up at him, 

"Oh, you mean the thing you were studying too? I heard you were hanging out with some other girl."

For a long moment, no one says a word, and you just stare deeply into each other's eyes. But then Sukuna laughs and cocks his head, 

"Well, it's true what you heard, but it was only two or three times. I'm not interested in her. Especially not now, when you seem to have time for me again."

You know he is leaning down on purpose, knowing full well how hot you find your height difference. You know he is brushing his lips over your ear with the intention of making you weak. You know he is calling you princess in that low sexy voice to make you come home with him tonight and forget all the dumb shit both of you did during the last few weeks.

You know now would be the right moment to tell him it's over for good. But you don't do it. You don't want to.

What you want is to put a hand on his toned chest and grab the front of his white shirt to pull him closer. 

"I have time for you, Kuna. I have time tonight and maybe tomorrow, too."

You can feel his smirk when he kisses you, and his muscular, tattoed arms wrap around you and pull you against that tall, strong body that feels so fucking good against you.

"That's good, princess, since I couldn't stop thinking about you and me those last few weeks. It's more fun when you're with me."

The two of you are back at your typical shit again. Passionate kisses at various parties, loud moans, and entangled sweaty bodies in either Sukuna's bed or yours. Once a week, twice, maybe more often. Sometimes, he stays the whole night and makes your dormmate complain about him using up all the milk in the fridge.

The occasional late-night texts turn into nightly calls. Lying in your bed in the dark with a racing heart as you listen to Sukuna's low voice telling you random things he did today, smiling when he tells you to sleep well.

You go to parties together and make out on kitchen counters. You go to clubs and dance and kiss and make it look so dirty that strangers come up to you and tell you to get a room. You give Sukuna a good luck kiss in the morning before his exam and laugh when he walks around with your red lip print on his cheek. 

People start commenting again on your relationship status, but you just laugh and roll your eyes.

Just like you roll your eyes when Sukuna pulls up at your place on a Wednesday at quarter to midnight, his car window rolled down, long fingers casually flicking off the ash of his half-smoked cigarette as he smirks at you,

"Wanna go on a ride, princess? Jump in. Let's drive to the beach."

"It's almost midnight, you idiot!"

"So what? I didn't say just for tonight, did I? We can stay for a few days, check into a hotel, have some fun tomorrow at the beach, go swimming, sip sweet cocktails at a shabby little bar, fuck in the warm sand, things like that. I know you want to."

You do.

You know you have an exam next week and really shouldn't miss any courses, but what can you do when Sukuna is here in front of you with his sexy smirk and that enticing sparkle in his maroon eyes, offering you the chance for a spontaneous adventure you will probably never forget?

You get into his car. You let him rest his large hand much too high on your thigh, and you let him kiss you breathless at every red light, giggling when he misses the traffic light changing, and the cars behind you honk. But Sukuna just grins against your lips and keeps kissing you while he lifts his hand to flip the guy behind him off in the rearview mirror.

You listen to him complaining about his teammates and his coach and make sure to nod understandingly and do the "Oh, no, he didn't!" and "Ah, that sucks!" at the right moments, earning you a smile and a kiss on the cheek.

You check into a cheap hotel down at the beach, feeling your heart beating like crazy because it feels like you are a criminal couple on the run in some noir movie. Or maybe two forbidden lovers meeting here in secret, far away from the cruel reality where everything is too serious, and people expect you to be a responsible adult.

Sukuna fucks you like he's starved for your body. Hard, deep thrusts and bruising kisses. Passionate sex that makes the old bed creak loudly while the sound mingles with your gasps and moans of Sukuna's name. Rough fucking that turns into surprisingly gentle lovemaking later that night, and Sukuna's soft moans against your neck and sweet little nothings whispered in your ear.

You return home two days later, feeling lightheaded and a bit sore from all the sex you had with Sukuna during those two days. On the hotel bed, in the shower, at the beach at night, on the drive home in his car.

His hand is on your thigh, slipping a bit under your short skirt, caressing your skin while he kisses you thoroughly in his parked car in front of your dorm. Maybe his hand tightens a bit on your thigh, not wanting to let go. Maybe you do the same, your fingers tangling in his soft pink hair, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away and saying goodbye.

When you finally exit his car, he grins at you with lips that are swollen from all the kissing and smeared with your lipstick. The red one that he likes so much on you.

"I'll call you when I'm home, princess. And let's meet again on Tuesday or something. I heard there's a party at Choso's dorm."

"Alright… or you could just stay the night."

The smile that lights up his face is enough to make your breath quicken. He is out of his car in a second, a large hand on the small of your back, steering you towards your front door. And you are grateful for the darkness of the night that helps you hide the stupid big grin on your face.

You don't know if you will ever be more than this on-and-off thing. You don't even know whether you would want it to be more. You don't know if you ever want to date Sukuna for real or if you ever want to call him your boyfriend.

But you know he is your boy, and you are his girl.

It doesn't matter how long your little fling will last this time, just a week or maybe a month. It doesn't matter if you'll go your separate ways for a little while again at some point. In the end, you will always come back to each other. Because one thing is for sure: Whatever the two of you have will never go out of style.

I HAD SO MANY BUTTERFLIES WHILE LISTENING TO THE SONG AND WRITING THIS AAAHHH!!! College boy Sukuna is my weakness. I'm so in love with him!!Help meee!!

So yeah, I decided that 1989 is a great College Sukuna album, and I will now go back to listening to it again and daydream about him.

I hope you enjoyed this little story and that it could give you butterflies too, maybe!! Please tell me how you liked it.

Comments and reblogs would be sweet.

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

MY TOP 3 SHIGADABI AUS

UP ON THE CLIFF ( fantasy au )

There's a sickness slowly turning humans into monsters and there's a Count demanding their lives in exchange for safety for the villages.

When Enji gives in and sends his oldest son as a human sacrifice, Touya is determined to get some answers from the Count himself.

Aka Tomura pretends to be the evil Count of the Cliff so human villages send those suffering from the demon sickness to him. They're later offered a deal: they can run away on their own and be free as they please until their sickness kills them— or they can continue the journey to the castle up on the cliff, where they would be safe and could learn how to live as monsters.

Maybe find a cure. Who knows.

I DON'T DANCE ( college au )

Every year, UA college awards the best project of every faculty with the Plus Ultra Cup. Win it and you'd be one step away from making your dreams come true, they say.

This year, captain of the baseball team Touya Todoroki is desperate to find a pitcher that takes his team to win the sports cup. Their reward? A chance to play with the pros on the best League in Japan!!

Meanwhile, horror artist Tomura is in charge of the faculty project of that year. Not only does Tomura have to consider and include all arts available at UA, but he must create something that goes up and beyond the expectations.

How can it even go wrong?

AKA Tomura and Touya mix sports and arts on a genius stupid bet. Tomura is the new pitcher of the UA heroes and Touya is the lead actor for Tomura's play. Mess of the century.

HEAL YOUR BURNING HEART ( 911 au )

A society that acts like only a few can be heroic is rotten to the core. Tenko and Touya learned that the hard way. Heroes can suck— they can be selfish, arrogant, blind hypocrites. The truth is that they're just people with flashy quirks or a reason to risk their lives to save others.

Flash news, assholes: you don't even need a quirk to do that last part.

AKA in the most ironic move someone could ever expect, Touya becomes a firefighter and Tenko a paramedic. Without a hero license, they are stuck fighting with the system so that they can do their job. Break the law, save a life, join your local firefighters!

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

7 Deadly Sins Tag!

Thanks @the-golden-comet, @tragedycoded, and @mysticstarlightduck :) I gotta say, this is perfect for someone who has an entire cast of assholes (aka me).

Greed:

Iraela. Her entire story is about craving power eternally, and how she just can't stop taking things (the throne, her sister's life, her fiancé's actual heart.) She's also never satisfied with what she already controls, and just keeps trying to invade Luxatia, which is what kills her in the very end.

(Second place is probably Luna for similar power-hungry reasons.)

Envy:

This one's easy (cos I struggle immensely with envy lol). Almost all of my OCs struggle with envy of some kind, but Mara takes it above and beyond. She couldn't stand that her own closest family had superpowers and she didn't, so she murdered them all in cold blood. Very 'If I can't have it, nobody can.'

(Iraela would have been first place, but I decided greed suited her better. The other first place would be my actual depiction of Envy lol. And if I wanted to be really arrogant I'd say I take first place)

Gluttony:

Believe it or not, Hash. This was a hard one for me to decide on, but Hash gets in trouble repeatedly for overindulgence at the cost of others, and I'm pretty sure that's one of gluttony's issues.

(No second place, this was hard enough for me to decide on its own)

Sloth:

Hahaha. What. Half the time I don't even remember this sin exists. Idk anyone who fits this. I'm basically hyperactivity personified, so no sloth for y'all

Wrath:

Ina, definitely. In Triworld mythology, she's often depicted as a being of flame and fury descending upon the unworthy, and honestly she's a very angry and bitter woman outside of myth too. Revenge-obsessed at its god-killing, species-destroying finest.

(Second place would be Hans-el, because he ended up being just as angry as his own nemesis.)

Lust:

I'm counting bloodlust as part of lust, so Olive counts. Her torture antics were definitely not platonic, that's for sure :)

(Hash is a close second, though. Little mf has a body count in the triple digits)

Pride:

Here good old Hans takes the crown! He's insanely arrogant, in the classic power-mad campy style, to the point of thinking he can fistfight Goddess, and honestly if I didn't love him so much I would spend most of my time taking him down a bunch of pegs. (I say that like I don't do it already.)

(Second place would be Katherine. Woman definitely thinks too highly of herself. Yes, you're an ancient eldritch demon, but you're also failing math despite actually trying.)

Tagging @sableglass, @oliolioxenfreewrites, @the-letterbox-archives, @drchenquill, @urnumber1star and honestly I have no idea who hasn't done this yet, so open tag!!

[itsjaywalkers]

laurie have you ever pondered on what jarty might look like in your boxer au. i’m just very curious about the dynamic between those versions of them in general (i wuv u 🫶🫶🐛)

SAINTS SWEETHEART HI <333

yes i have!! mostly bc they interact a lot in the fic and also bc of all the foursome talk there was about jeggy + rosekiller a while ago!!

james and barty hate each other with a Passion in the boxer au. it's raw and visceral and personal, even though there's no History between them. they didn't have a fight that made them become enemies or have some sort of diagreement. they just don't like each other, fundamentally

sirius and james also heavily dislike each other in this fic, but it's not as bad. they argue a lot but they can still pretend in front of the cameras, even if it can feel slightly strained occassionally. they're also Respectful when they get on the ring. sure, they taunt each other and fight with all their might, but neither of them plays dirty or breaks any rules. between barty and james is the complete opposite, they can't do interviews together and their matches tend to get cancelled midway through. that, or they both end up straight disqualified

i think they have more in common than they think, but their core traits or like . the strongest parts of their personalities clash very directly, and the personas they wear publicly kind of represent what they both hate the most??? like, james is arrogant to the point it's obnoxious, but he's charming and extroverted and loves having everyone's attention on him. while barty is also arrogant, but doesn't brag as much as james does, he's more reserved and . aggressive, doesn't do well with ppl and he doesn't give a fuck about what other think of him or about curating his image to appeal to the masses. james thinks barty is an asshole and not really a good person and barty thinks james is fake and hollow and a liar. but they don't actually Know each other

i have a hard time seeing them working romantically. i wouldn't say it's impossible, but it'd be . very complicated and frustrating and it wouldn't be healthy at all. they also wouldn't have a conventional relationship i feel like. they're always trying to one up each other and they fight over literally everything and james lets himself be controlled by anger way too easily, while barty, despite being sort of?? comfortable with conflict?? and enjoying chaos is a lot better at keeping his cool and getting the upper hand in that way. there would a lot of imbalance between them and that would drive both of them up the wall. both of them want to be in control at all times

that being said, there is a certain sexual tension between them. they hate each other so bad that it turns into Want sometimes, they just repress it or deny it to themselves, bc that's basically their arch nemesis, they're supposed to want them dead, not bent over a table you know?

if reg or evan weren't in the picture i feel like that sexual tension would remain unresolved for a lot longer, but they'd still fuck at some point. maybe even become some sort of twisted fuck buddies idk. they do have a lot of sexual chemistry, but they're both Proud and Stubborn so it'd be a long, exhausting process to get them to a point in which . they find their footing when it comes to sleeping together

evan and reg being there completely erases the possibility of their dynamic turning romantic, but it makes their possible Fucking more accessible?? surprisingly lmao. bc their respective partners give them the excuse to seek each other out (reg is down for either a foursome or a threesome, simply bc it's barty, and evan isn't actually interested but gets off on barty being turned on + watching him so he'd agree too). and having intermediaries would also help to keep them in check and aid them in finding how they can work while having sex aka barty tops, but they switch it a bit when it comes to dom/sub dynamics, since they're capable of both but have a clear preference to being the dom (that's another thing, until reg doesn't top james for the first time and he finds out he's actually very into it he would've never allowed barty to top him. that, or it would've taken him A While)