#✧yana writes

[yanaromanov]

fuck me, i’m famous

｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･

paring: rockstar!natasha romanoff x reader

summary: when your boyfriend drags you along to a rock concert of a band you barely know, and then ceremoniously dumps you to go out with his friends after, it feels like your night can’t get any worse. thankfully, the guitarist of the band seems to take a particular interest in you and offers you an alternative offer on how to spend your night that seems just too good to refuse.

warning(s): cheating (r has a bf), but he’s a shitty bf, oc male character, band jargon that may or may not be correct, alcohol consumption, copious amounts of flirting, slight mention of crystals, swearing, many pet names, first time with a woman, smut, fingering, thigh riding, masturbation, scissoring, multiple orgasms, hickeys, natasha talking you through things, lots of praise, slight degradation (?), minors dni.

authors note: okay i feel like this is kinda bad and messy but i also spent too much time on it not to post. i’m still getting used to writing smut and haven’t wrote anything like this before so i hope it’s okay 😭😭 the end is also rushed so plz just ignore that :))

wc: 12.2K words

You've seen enough books and movies to know how things are supposed to go. How that perfect moment comes, when the pieces fall into place and you suddenly realize this is what you're meant to do, what you've always meant to do. But you've also lived a life long enough to know it never actually happens. In truth, it's all a bunch of bullshit.

There's never such thing as love at first sight, no moment where the world freezes on everyone except you and music plays in slow motion in the background, your eyes falling on that one person through the crowd that you just know your heart only beats for. In real life, the cards just don't fall like that. There's too many shitty people and grievous circumstances for the true movie dream to ever be lived, forever just a piece of fiction one can only fantasize of.

You know all this, understand it to be true. And yet, one hot Summer night, it feels like it all melts away and that fairy tale veil falls down right in front of your very own eyes.

It's not slow when it happens, not like in the movies. It's fast and loud and hot and sweaty. The music around you blares into your ears, bodies beside you screaming out lyrics you barely know. In the crowded space, you at least try to have a good time, try to mimic your boyfriend's energy as he dances and sings beside you, but you know its all futile. You want to leave. Truly, never wanted to come in the first place, but had done for him, for all his pleas and begs. You'll love it, I promise. Please come, baby, please.

The lights are hurting your eyes, the fog burning at your irises. Everyone is far too close to you, strangers pressing up against your sides from the front row section your boyfriend, Tyler, had demanded you needed. You don't feel it right all the back there. You need to be close to feel it in your bones. You feel a little sick.

And then that's when it happens. Body jostling against the side of the raised stage, ears ringing from being far too close to the speakers, that's when your own movie moment finally crashes into you. It's quick, so quick you don't even take notice till a few seconds after it happens. As your eyes raise to the band playing in front of you, they graze over each of the members. The brunette hugging the microphone center stage; the other behind hammering into a black drum set; the tall blonde whose fingers dance over the fretboard of a blue bass; and then finally, the woman playing an electric guitar stage right the same color as her fiery red hair. When you meet her eye it's like one of those moments back in high school, when you're accidentally caught making eye contact with someone across the class. But this time, unlike any time with your classmates, the redhead doesn't screw her face up, passing you a dirty look. What the fuck are you looking at? Instead, she winks.

Seconds later her gaze is gone, returned to the vibrating audience, and it takes you just about as much time to even acknowledge what had just happened. It seems fake, like a miscommunication in the space of a blink. Surely you must be imagining things, the heat in the room finally getting to you. But no, you're so sure of it. So set on what you've seen. A few moments later, it's like it's confirmed. The redhead's sights turn back on you, looking down into the pit of bodies where you stand. This time she holds, her eyes trained to yours as she continues to pluck the strings of her guitar. A small smirk stretches across painted lips, teeth plunging down into plump flesh. The music doesn't slow like it does in the movies. In fact, it seems almost louder than ever as you hold contact with the redhead's playful gaze. And when she winks again, chin jutting in your direction, you know it's you she's looking at.

You feel a little too seen, and not so much in a good way. You don't feel that special moment you read about in books, the time you are the chosen one across the sea of other bodies, a spark lighting in your heart at the romanticism of it all. It actually only drives one question in to your head; why the fuck is she looking at me?

You duck your eyes away, looking to the floor and the scuffed boots on your feet. There's a half-full cup of water a few inches in front of you. You watch as dancing feet almost collide with it, surely only seconds a way from being spilled. It holds your attention for a long time, so long your boyfriend is grasping at your cheek to check you're alright. You smile the way you always seem to do. Lips painting a picture of 'yes, I'm fine', while your brain screams out in contradicting protest. How much longer till this thing is done? My fucking head hurts.

When the final song does eventually roll around, you're too lost in your own thoughts to even care. The redhead guitarist has made eye contact with you three more times since you'd first noticed. If there was any doubt you had she wasn't seeking you out, it was surely dissipated now. Each time your eyeline had actually raised to the stage in front of you, it was like the woman's eyes were already waiting for you.

Trying to hold back the dizziness from gazing down at the floor, you had tried to remember the redhead's name. In no offence to the band, or their adoring fans lined up behind you, you actually didn't know of them much at all. Sure, you've heard their songs blasted through your boyfriend's speakers, saw their faces on cassettes and cd's dumped around your apartment, but you've never truly been a follower of the band Crimson Coven. You try to rack your brain of the knowledge you have, of every rant your boyfriend has been on that you so casually zone out from. The lead singer's name is Wanda, you know that much. She seems to be his favourite from the amount of things you've heard him rattle on. She's never even taken singing lessons. She's actually European, isn't that sick? Did you know she has a twin brother? You should do your makeup like her, babe.

The redhead has you thrown for a loop though. There are two names swimming in your head, though you're pretty sure the drummer is the one named Maria and Carol doesn't seem to fit the guitarist stood on the right. For the life of you it seems you can't draw the name from your head. It stays that way until the concert is finishing, stood watching the four women walking off stage, screaming out "thank you's" and collecting thrown objects on to the small stage, all the while you notice a certain member's eyes still trained on you. You simply turn away and grab on to Tyler’s hand, letting him guide you out of the dissipating crowd. God, you can't wait to get home.

The line to the bathroom is a slight roadblock in your plan. It's not torturously long by any means, but it still has you stood outside pressing your thighs together as you try desperately to hold in the three cans of beer you'd drank before the gig had began. You're regretting that decision now as the line filters slowly into the venue's singular women's bathroom. Seriously, what the fuck is up with that? If it weren't for the half hour journey you had back to your place, you would have considered just holding it, but if the pain in your stomach were any indication, you weren't going to make it that far.

When it's finally your turn, you all but run into the cubicle. It's quieter in there, a barricade between the groups of people who’ve chosen to stay to socialize in the venue's lounge and bar area. The stall is not only a relief for your full bladder, but also your pounding head. You stay in there longer than what's needed, most likely angering the girls waiting outside, but you just can't help it. It's cool and quiet and a desperate contrast to the overstimulating room you'd just spent the last two hours in. After washing your hands, you take the time to check up on your makeup, licking the tip of your finger to fix the slightly smudged liner of your eyes. All in all, you're pretty intact considering the circumstances. A pleasing picture that will soon be washed away as you head home for a night of constant reiterations of the concert you'd just experienced.

You're almost rolling your eyes already at the thought, so easily predicting your boyfriend's behavior for the next several hours. It's this state of disapproval that blinds you as you open the door to the bathroom, not noticing the taller woman standing there before she's backing you up into the stall.

You stumble slightly as the presence walks towards you, your eyes adjusting to the other person who has suddenly joined you in the room. For a moment their back is turned, locking the door to the stall before their face is revealed to you. You curse a little under your breath when you recognise the features.

"There you are. God, do you know hard it was to track you down? Slipped right in here before I could get to ya."

The redhead in front of you breathes out her words, smiling down at you in a way that flips your stomach. It's in that moments everything truly comes crashing down. Every doubt you had, every belief that things like this don't happen in real life is swept away as the famous guitarist stands in front of you. It really was you she was looking at from the stage and now she'd tracked you down. Pinned you into a bathroom stall as she looks down on your figure with her eyes wide, almost drunk. "Uhm, hi?" Is all you manage to say, the entirety of the situation still comprehending itself in your mind.

The redhead in front of you smirks widely as she responds. "Hi." It's then that it hits you, the name you couldn't pinpoint earlier. Natasha. Natasha Romanoff. Lead guitarist of Crimson Coven. You're trying to remember anything Tyler might have said about her when she takes another step in your direction.

"Wow," she breathes, almost to herself. "You're even prettier up close." Her eyes seem to trace over your whole figure, her tongue playing with the inside of her cheek. "Fuck, you're gorgeous."

"Uhm...thank you?" you stutter back, not entirely sure of how you're supposed to act in this situation. You're still trying to get over the shock of her pushing you back into the bathroom before you'd tried to leave. Not sure what else to do, your own eyes trail over the star stood ahead of you. She's still wearing her outfit from her performance; an old looking graphic tee tucked into a pair of black denim shorts. The boots on her feet have silver embellishments that match perfectly with the necklaces around her neck and many rings adorning her fingers. Her lips are painted a shade of faded red that both contrasts and yet somehow works perfectly with her hair, curled and messy around her shoulders. As you look over her, the thought of why your boyfriend may just like her band so much crosses your mind. She really was hot as shit.

But despite her looks, there's still an anxiety bubbling in your chest at this situation. It’s probably not often people could get this close to the star, let alone be held up in a room alone with her. Yet your ears are still ringing and the only true wish crossing your mind's eye is your bed. So, disappointing every girl who'd rather be in your place, you simply clear your throat as you gesture mindlessly to the door behind her. "I think there's people waiting outside to use this cubicle."

The rockstar cocks her head, smirking back. "Oh yeah?" She shrugs, only briefly glancing over her shoulder at the closed bathroom door. "I'm sure they'd be fine waiting. Didn't mind letting me cut through the line." When she smiles back at you, you assume the look in her eye is a mirror of how a predator looks at its prey. You find your lip between your teeth as you look back, very aware of just how much time you'd already spent in this bathroom and how there was a lot of people stood outside who would be becoming increasingly more annoyed at the occupied status, rockstar be damned. Though her attitude remains relaxed, the redhead in front of you seems to pick up on your hesitation because she lets out a low sigh. "Look, if you're really that bothered why don't don't we leave and your pretty ass can join me backstage?"

She takes another step towards you, eyes darkening a they take in your figure. You swallow the saliva in your mouth in an attempt to cool the burn in your stomach. "Sorry-I um-I have a boyfriend," you manage to stutter out, taken aback by her advances. She definitely was hitting on you, that much was clear now, but you knew that Tyler would be waiting for you somewhere, most likely wondering why the fuck you were taking so long to pee.

When your words ring out, its like the redhead's brain short circuits. She almost freezes, only her brows moving to pull into a deep frown. "Shit," she murmurs. "Really?"

You nod in response, fingers playing with the back of your shirt. "Yeah." The redhead looks awfully confused, her gaze trailing over you as if there's something she's missed. When her eyes meet yours once more, its like your answer is a complete mystery to her, like there's something she saw you must have missed in your own reflection. You try to brush it off, not delving into whatever thoughts must be running through the star's head. Instead you just clear your throat again, pointing to the door. "He's um- probably waiting for me."

A tight smile passes across your lips as you slowly move towards the door. The redhead lets you go, ever so slightly brushing past her arm without another word said. You reach for the handle of the door, turning it open before leaving the rockstar behind to wallow in whatever confusion or disappointment runs through her head. You just want to find Tyler and get the hell out of there.

When you finally emerge from the bathroom stall, it feels even warmer than it had before. Though now you're not entirely sure if it's just the air, or also the blood you can feel coursing through your cheeks. You try your best to brush it off, looking around the space to try and locate wherever your boyfriend might have wondered off to. Walking past the line of remaining girls, you have to try ignore their passing stares. Most are likely from your extended use of the bathroom, holding them up even further, but you can't help but feel at least a few are thinking about whatever happened between you and Natasha in that stall and why on earth you had the nerve to leave such an opportunity unfulfilled.

Trying to leave the entire interaction behind, you move to the main area of the venue lounge to try find your boyfriend so you can finally head home. It takes you a good few minutes of searching through the crowds before you spy him across the way, stood talking with all of his friends that he'd brought along to the concert.

"Tyler," you call, passing through bodies to get to him. When he doesn't seem to hear you, you shout again. "Tyler!"

Finally, he turns around, a look of recognition passing over his face as you appear by his side. "Oh there you are, babe," he says. "Where the hell did you go?"

"I was just-I was peeing," you reply, looking around sheepishly at the group of men all staring down at you. It wasn't that you didn't like Tyler's friends per se, it was more so they just weren't your type of people. Most times they’re around, you manage to skilfully skirt around them until a time when they've all gone back home.

Tyler scoffs a little at your comment. "You were gone for like half an hour." He laughs, gesturing to the group as they all join in.

"Yeah. Um-the line was long," you say, trying to avoid the annoyance creeping up your spine as well as skirt around the encounter you'd had just moments ago. Partially because you were still trying to wrap your head around it but also because you didn't want to hear whatever he had to say about what happened. Instead, you just let out a small sigh. "Can we just go home now?"

"Oh actually," Tyler starts. "We were thinking of hitting up a few bars before we went home."

The words hit you like a blast of hot air, unable to deny the feeling of annoyance brewing under your skin. Still, you try to remain sweet in hopes he'll seek pity on you. "Tyler, please," you reply. "I'm tired, can't we just-"

"You don't have to come."

He cuts you off quickly, halting the words in your throat. The attitude you can hear in his voice almost immediately breaks the facade of kindness you were putting on. "Excuse me?"

Tyler shrugs, having the nerve to look annoyed, like you're the one being unreasonable here. "Just call a cab home. You'll be fine." And with that it seems he's had enough of the conversation, turning his shoulders away as he beckons his group to follow.

"No, Tyler wait," you try, but he continues to move away. The only thing you receive is him quickly turning over his shoulder, calling out a goodbye as he promises to see you later.

"Tyler!" You yell but it's futile, the image of your boyfriend already swallowed up by the crowd. "Fuck."

For the second time tonight it feels like you have no idea how to react. You swivel around on the spot, like a lost kid in a grocery store. Some part of you can't believe he would just leave you like that, but then the other part understands it's him all over. Stupid selfish prick.

Far past being annoyed at the night's events, you reach for the phone buried in your jacket pocket, determined to just do as you were told and order a cab home. When the screen returns to you black, the only image your own reflection staring back at you even as you press the power button repeatedly, a long string of curses escape your lips. Stupid fucking phones and their stupid ass batteries. And of course tonight had to be the night you had forgone your charger, leaving you with just a useless weight of metal that you slip back into your pocket. Just my fucking luck.

For a moment, you're stuck on what to do, how to find a way home, but then your eyes fall on the bar across the room. You make your way through the crowd, squeezing past people and mumbling half-assed 'sorry's' and 'excuse me's' until you eventually reach the bar. When you do, the bartender walks over to you, a small smile appearing on his face. "Hi, what can I get for you?"

"Actually, I was just wondering if you could call me a cab?" you reply, raising your voice to be heard over the venue's loud music.

The bartender furrows his brow. "What?"

"A cab," you repeat, leaning in further to his ear. "Can you call me a cab, please? My phone is dead."

"Oh, I can't sorry," he responds, shrugging his shoulders. "Phone is broken."

"What? Can't you use your mobile or-"

"Not while I'm on shift."

He shrugs again. You scoff.

"Please. I really need to get home."

"Sorry," the bartender responds finally, turning away to move towards another customer down the bar.

You watch him go, scowling. When he starts to talk to someone else, asking for their order, another waterfall of curses fall from your tongue. How the fuck were you supposed to get home now?

"Hey gorgeous."

The voice all but pulls you from your thoughts and to the right, dragging you away from the harsh stare you were given the unhelpful bartender. When your eyes fall to the person who had sidled up beside you, a small sigh slips out, your eyes rolling in their sockets.

"Wow," the redhead responds, easily picking up on your bad attitude. She holds her hands up. "Sorry to offend."

You look back at the rockstar, at Natasha. It seems she's found you again in a moment where you want nothing more than to find a way out of there. Though despite your frustration, you know it's not her fault, that she isn't the one controlling the universe so adamant on your downfall tonight. So, you force yourself to soften your expression as you turn back to her. "No. No, I'm sorry," you say, shaking your head slightly. "It's just- I'm trying to get a cab home but apparently their phone is broken." You gesture towards the bar, displaying the utter uselessness of its bartender with the look on your face.

Natasha seems to take a little amusement in your frustration, the faintest of a smile appearing on her face. "You ain't got your own phone to call a cab?" The mobile is received from your pocket, quickly held up by your hand as you flash the dead device to the redhead opposite. She sighs, tilting her head back. "Ah, I see. What about that boyfriend of yours? Couldn't he call you a cab?"

You're a little surprised to hear her mention that piece of information, even if you'd only shared it with her minutes before in the bathroom stall. The mention of his presence is enough to drag the long sigh from your chest as you stare down at the bar. "Not when he's the reason I need one."

"Alright, I'm gonna need you to elaborate on that one."

Her words draw your eyes back to her, briefly grazing over her face before you respond. "He left with his friends. Gone off to some other bar. Told me to phone a cab home."

Natasha lets out a breath of air. "Dickhead." You watch her as she takes a sip from the beer in her hand, trying not to notice the way her lips look pressed against the top of the bottle. "You know, a pretty girl like you shouldn't have to wait around on assholes like that."

And then there's that same heat you felt in the bathroom, creeping up your cheeks unwelcome. You turn away again as you shrug in an attempt to hide it. "He's not that bad-" "Sure," Natasha cuts you off before you can even finish your explanation. In truth, you weren't even sure what else you were going to say, what redeeming qualities you could draw about the boy who'd left you stranded in the city to go get drunk with his friends. Instead you just turn to the woman sat beside you, only shallowly realising how she is in fact a minor celebrity and that a lot of the people around were probably looking over at the pair of you. But when Natasha smiles and leans in, it's like it all disappears. "Alright, lemme tell you this. You let me buy you one drink and I'll phone you a taxi home."

You look back at the rockstar sat across from you, letting her words settle into your mind. This close you can once again tell just how beautiful she is, how any girl in this room would pay good money to be where you are right now. But you don't want to be that kind of girl, the kind that chases after someone just because they have a little bit of fame. Nevertheless, there is something about the redhead that draws you in. Maybe it's the layers of piercings you can see stacking her ears, or the patchwork of tatoos lining her exposed arms. Whatever it is, something about her is making you want to follow whatever she says. Furthermore, her offer is one that is rather too good to refuse. After a moment, you sigh as you nod your head. "Fine. One drink." Natasha Romanoff smirks, calling the bartender over almost immediately with two fingers. It's the same tilted smile you had seen her passing you from across the stage, though now you can take notice of the small dimple that appears on her cheek when those lips pull taught. Everything about this encounter was setting something alight inside you but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

When your drink finally arrives - curtesy of a different bartender - you decidedly join the rockstar on the stools lined up against the bar. The leather is sticky and uncomfortable against the exposed skin under your skirt. Still, you ignore it as you look over at the redhead to your right, slowly taking a sip of the cocktail you'd ordered as you get the opportunity to voice the question that's been on your mind for the last couple hours. "Why were you looking at me on stage?"

"Why'd you think?" Natasha smirks the widest you've seen all night, licking her bottom lip as she turns to you. "I thought maybe you and I could have some fun but…you had to be little miss taken." You try not to react to her words, or moreover the way her eyes drag themselves over your body, particularly your exposed thighs against the red leather of the barstool. "Maybe we could still have some fun yet tho, hm?" Natasha finishes, her eyes returning to yours. Even in the dim light of the bar you can tell they're blown out, pupils wide as they drink you in.

You let out a sigh. "Listen, in the nicest way possible, I don't actually really know who you are and I don't know about this whole thing you're doing, if it's normal but-"

"Wait," Natasha cuts you off. "You were in the front row and don't know who I am?"

You feel a little bashful as you shrug your shoulders. "I mean- I kinda do, I guess. I mean- I've listened to a few of your band's songs but I'm not like- a fan or anything."

"Not a fan?" Natasha breathes, reaching to take another sip of her drink with an amused expression. "So tell me, how does a girl who's not a fan end up hugging the stage all night?"

You take a sip of your own cocktail before you reply. "My boyfriend bought the tickets."

"Ah there it is," Natasha nods. "The boyfriend yet again." She turns in her chair, legs moving to dangle off the side. "You know, he's not really our target demographic."

You know exactly what she's talking about, almost too quickly. It was rather obvious to you that Crimson Coven was not a band trying to attract straight men, even if they did flock to them over their members' good looks. "Yeah, I tried to tell him that," you reply, sipping on your drink.

One of the redhead's brows raises, eyes tracing over your face. "What's that one saying?" she ask, swirling the bottle in her hands. "Takes one to know one?" You feel the saliva pool in your throat as she looks back at you, smirk wider than ever. Swallowing harshly, you take a rather big swig of your drink, trying your best to ignore the way you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. Natasha simply breathes out a laugh. "I think you're maybe not as you first seem, little lady." Right then there's a look that passes between you, your eyes wide and questioning, Natasha's dark and hooded. Then her hand is landing on your thigh, just above your knee where the skin is exposed. Her thumb strokes back and forth delicately as she licks her lips. "Why don't you tell me your name?"

There's a strange bubbling inside your stomach, a flutter to your heart. You want to turn and walk right out of there, ditch the rockstar in front of you and try your luck hailing a cab on the street. But part of you notices the shiver her touch sends up your thigh, how her skin is warm against yours in just the right kind of way, how despite your circumstances, just how amazing this moment feels. "Y/N," you reply eventually, swallowing your first instincts to the warm pit of your stomach.

"Y/N," the redhead repeats, rolling the name over her tongue. "I'm-"

"Natasha. I know."

She seems taken aback by your quick answer, cutting off her sentence before she can finish. She frowns slightly back at you. "I thought you said you didn't."

Now it's your turn to raise your brow. "I said I wasn't a fan. Not that I didn't know your name."

"I see," Natasha replies, her voice laced with amusement. She smiles to herself as she sips her beer, turning back with a wide grin. "You know, I've never slept with a Y/N before."

"You sleep with a lot of girls then?"

"I've done the rounds," Natasha shrugs. The nonchalant nature of her reply is enough to have you passing her a displeased look across the bar. She raises her brow, looking back at you. "What? You want me to lie to you? Tell you I'm the virgin mary?"

You want to laugh in response but hold yourself back, entirely aware of the game Natasha is trying to play. "So...what?" you draw out, playing with the rim of your glass. "You want me to be one of your new collectibles?"

"Well maybe if I get lucky."

You turn back to the smirking redhead. "I wouldn't buy a lottery ticket."

And she laughs, like really laughs right into her drink before she takes a sip. When she places it back on the bar, she shakes her head as she turns to look at you with a smirk. "You know most girls flock to my side," she says, raising a brow. "Asking for autographs or pictures."

"I already told you. I don't know that much about your band."

"You're here though, aren't you?" Natasha replies. "You must know some things."

She isn't entirely wrong. Sure, you knew of the things your boyfriend has endlessly droned on about. About Wanda being the one who named the band. Or about Carol and her cat, or Maria and her brief military background. You even knew about Natasha, little sparks in your memory of her coming from Russia or her hair being blonde at some point. It's all stored in the backlog of your brain, hours of knowledge you'd spent years sorting into the dusty compartments of your mind you never cared to look at. Still, there's something now about speaking to Natasha in real time, not hearing about your boyfriend's idealised version of her that feels a little different. Things here feel a little more real.

You don't acknowledge Natasha's question as you take a sip from your drink. "You want me to ask for your autograph?" you ask as you place the glass back down. "Is that it?"

The answer that follows is in such a low register you can barely hear it over the music. "I think we both know what I want."

You look back at Natasha, at her dazzling smirk and messy red hair. "Well I'm sorry to disappoint but I'm not your girl." A tight smile appears on your lips as you gaze out into the sea of bodies across the room. "Why don't you go find someone else?"

"Why would I when you're the prettiest thing in here?" Natasha's response is quick, almost as quick as the way her eyes divert to to rest if your body. "Hell, I'd go as far as to say you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

"Listen," you sigh. "I appreciate the flattery but-"

"I ain't fucking around if that's what you think," Natasha says quickly, cutting you off. The look in her eye as she scans your face shows how genuine her words feel. "You caught my eye the second I stepped on stage. You're fucking gorgeous, angel. Forgive me if it's a crime to want to see more."

Despite your better instincts, you let out a laugh into your glass. No one has ever been this forward with you before, never complimented you so much to the point you can feel the heat of their words on your skin. Hell, not even Tyler was ever this keen to get you into bed. And you know you shouldn't like it, shouldn't fall for the rockstar's methods, but you can't help but enjoy the praise just a little bit.

That feeling is soon quashed however when your temple gives a sudden jolt of pain. You wince slightly, reminded of the too-loud atmosphere you'd spent the last few hours in. The alcohol probably wasn't helping much either.

"What's wrong?"

You're a little surprised when Natasha speaks, unaware of her having noticed your small flinch at the pain. You simply shake your head in response, smiling back at her. "Nothing. I'm fine. It's just a headache."

"You know," the rockstar replies quickly. "It's cooler backstage. Quieter too." You must give her a look laced with poison because she holds her hands up in defence once again, though this time smirking back at you. "Hey, Im just saying."

Despite your glare, you're still interested in the redhead sat opposite you. It's like even with her forward approach, you can't help but be drawn to some part of her. You try to avoid the smile that creeps back on to your face as you look back into her eyes. "Does this routine usually work for you?"

Natasha chuckles to herself before leaning in to speak. "Honey, by now I usually have a girl screaming my name as she rides my face."

It's now you're entirely glad of the dimness in the room, hiding the flushed state that rises in your throat and heats up your cheeks. You can feel yourself getting worked up by Natasha's bold statement, unsure of what to do with yourself or how to respond. In doubt of yourself, you simply reach for the cocktail glass in front of you and down the rest of the liquid. It burns a little going down but you find you don't mind it. Anything to take away from the feeling you can recognise brewing in your stomach.

You can just about feel Natasha's smirk as much as you can see it, pressing into the side of your head as she watches you become flustered, clearly enjoying the effect she is having on you. "Here," she says, adjusting herself in the chair. "Let me buy you another one."

You turn to meet her eye, holding it harshly. "I said one drink."

That smirk remains for a long while as Natasha just looks back at you, not answering for a few passing moments. It even stays as she lifts one of her arms, arching it so it comes to rest on the back of your barstool, officially caging in your conversation. "Alright," she drawls, her body leaning in towards yours. "Look at it like this. I can buy you another drink and we can talk some more. Maybe think about heading backstage, get you somewhere quieter. Or..." The redhead licks her licks, pausing as she angles her head. "I can phone you that cab now and you can mope in the backseat till you get home. Then, stumble into your cold apartment alone and just wait for your drunk boyfriend to get home and sidle up next to you in bed."

The blatant look on Natasha's face is a good representation of how you feel about the whole situation she's proposed. The thought of dealing with Tyler later is enough to have you rolling your eyes, already imagining his drunken state reaching out for you and wiping wet kisses along your neck, stinking of booze and the remaining perfume of whatever girl he's been chatting up at the bar. It's almost like a routine you've both fallen into, simply ignoring it every time until without fail, it'll happen again.

And maybe tonight you're done with it. Maybe tonight is the night you don't want to have to deal with him anymore, to hear him talk about himself for hours on end like you don't even exist. It's partially the thought of finally letting that go that pulls you in the direction you choose, but it's also largely down to the way you can feel Natasha pressing in closer, her face moving just inches from yours as her lips press up against your ear. Somehow, it's like you can even feel her smirking as her lips barely graze the skin beside your face. "If you come with me, I promise you won't regret it."

Maybe it is that that finally does it for you, the shiver of goosebumps running down your spine as you still feel the redhead's hand grazing your thigh. Maybe it's that or maybe it's the heat finally getting to you, or the alcohol hitting your head. It could be any of those, or maybe combination of them all. Whatever your brain decides to settle on as a reason, it doesn't really matter because within seconds, you're calling over the bartender for another drink, allowing yourself to fall into whatever rabbit hole Natasha Romanoff is offering you.

"I knew I'd like you, Y/N," the redhead whispers close, grinning widely at your acceptance. You don't say anything in response until the bartender is placing your vodka coke on the bar. And even then, just as you reach for the glass, Natasha is diverging any words you may have spoken as she grabs hold of your hand. "Come on," she calls and it's a challenge not to spill any of the drink as the redhead quickly begins to pull you from the bar.

"Natasha, wait-" you try to respond, not entirely sure of where this might be going, but the star is quickly cutting you off as she presses her lips together.

"Shh," she drags, looking back at you over her shoulder. "It's okay, angel. It's better back here, I promise."

Something in you gives in because you let her drag you through the crowds of the room, trying desperately not to spill the beverage in your hands. You notice on the way a few recognising faces that glance at Natasha, then almost turn a little sour as they fall onto you. You only get the chance to wonder about their jealousy for a few moments before Natasha has pulled you away from everyone entirely, slipping you through a door into a quiet corridor. And then, after turning a few corners and dodging a few stacks of equipment crates, she pulls you through another door into an entirely empty room.

It's only then does the redhead finally release your hand, letting you roam free as she crosses to sit on one of the sofas positioned within the room. Beside them, there's stacks of band equipment, most of which you don't quite recognise. The red guitar on the stand is easy, and the set of drumsticks lying on a table, but the speakers and wires sit in a valley of other items you probably couldn't name if you tried.

There are scatterings of personality throughout the space; a leather jacket thrown over a couch, an ashtray of old cigarettes on a coffee table, some cards laying close beside it. And for a moment you wonder if this is what Natasha Romanoff's life is like. Backrooms full of band equipment, roaring crowds that call out her name. An endless supply of money and booze and cigarettes and girls. It's so so far away from the reality that you live that it can't help but be a little fascinating, this room just a little window into the life of a true rockstar.

The one thing you do very quickly notice however, is the main luxury that the exclusive backstage room seems to have; air conditioning. Beautifully cool air floods your body as soon as the door closes behind you, your headache already cowering back in the quiet atmosphere. You just can't help but let out a long, appreciative sigh at the respite from the hot, humid air outside.

"Told ya." Natasha's voice calls as you see her throw herself down on one of the sofas, so easily slipping into her own space backstage.

You simply roll your eyes as you take a sip of the drink in your hand, surprisingly intact after lugging it across the venue. "So, where are your other friends?" you ask, looking more so at the room full of band things than the member sat on the couch across from you.

Natasha sighs, sitting back as her eyes drag over you. "Probably in rooms close by hoping to get somewhere like me."

"And where exactly is that?" you ask, feet wandering across the opposite side of the room from the redhead. She smirks back at you, watching your every movement.

"Why don't you tell me, gorgeous?"

You can feel yourself smile, finally allowing Natasha's flirting get to you. But instead of replying to her question, you simply run your fingers over the red instrument propped up on the stand beside you. "How long have you played guitar?"

"Fifteen years," Natasha replies quickly, unwavering at your change of topic.

You nod to yourself, looking down at the instrument. "Wow." There isn't anything you've probably committed to for that long, besides maybe school. You take a sip of your drink as you turn to lean on a table against the wall, now facing the still sitting redhead across the way. "How'd you meet the other girls?"

"It's a long story."

You hum in response, waiting just a moment for her to elaborate before you realise she's leaving it up to your own imagination. The two of you hold eye contact as you bring your drink up to your mouth, letting the bubbles pop on your lips as you drink before smoothing it over with your tongue. Theres a specific look in Natasha's eye you can't seem to recognise, almost as if she wants to eat you right where you stand. That smirk widens as you take another sip, your tongue yet again swiping over your lips and the sweet residual soda lingering there. It's then Natasha finally speaks, nodding her head in your direction. "Come here."

And you do. Placing your drink down on the table before pressing yourself up from it, you slowly make your way across the room to where Natasha sits. As you come to stand between her open legs, the rockstar sits up, her body straightening and her hands coming to rest on the sides of your hips. You let them explore a little as Natasha moves, forgoing the layer of your leather jacket and pressing directly beneath the hem on your shirt. Her fingertips feel calloused as they brush the skin beneath it, years of playing guitar coming to create the most amazing sensation as she brushes against your body.

"God, your skin is so soft," Natasha says lowly, almost to herself. It sounds like she's truly mesmerised, her entire being taken over by the feeling of you against her skin. And perhaps some part of you feels it too because without knowing what truly compels you, you find yourself lowering your body down into her lap. Natasha smirks as you come to rest upon her thighs, knees caging either side of her body. She glances down at the way your skirt rides up, only leaving little to the imagination of what lies beneath. Her hands come to rest there, stroking the soft skin of your upper thighs as you lift your arms above her shoulders, letting them fall behind her head as you stare into her eyes. From here, in the new lighting of the backstage room, you can see the sea of green that shrouds her pupils.

For a while you two just drink each other in, your bodies comfortably close as your eyes trace one another. Then, eventually Natasha is talking once more as her fingers reach out towards you. "What's this?"

You follow her eyeline down to your chest, watching the way her fingers have found the crystal hanging around your neck. "Aventurine," your reply.

Natasha smiles as she looks back at your face. "Wanda's the crystal lover so you'll have to enlighten me. What does this one do?"

You shrug a little. "It's brings a few things...Hope, optimism, prosperity. Mostly luck."

The redhead raises a brow as her voice finds that playful tone. "Luck?"

"Mhm," you hum, finding yourself leaning in just slightly closer. "Stone of opportunity."

"So you're telling me it's because of this little rock that I wound up with a pretty girl sat on my lap?"

You hold back a laugh as you search Natasha's smirking face. "Don't call it a rock."

"No?"

You shake your head, humming. "I think it offends them."

The two of you are pressed even closer now, your arms coming crossed behind Natasha's head as she pulls you in. Her voice is almost a whisper when she speaks. "I know some things I could do to offend a lot of people."

The breath you release is shaky as you feel Natasha's hand reach up to cusp your face. She holds your chin, finger so delicate across your skin before she reaches to trace your bottom lip, just momentarily pulling it down with her thumb.

And it's then, with her face pressed so close to yours, green eyes almost black with lust, that you finally let everything go and you lean in. The first kiss is electrifying. Like that first strum of a chord when the guitar kicks in in a song, the bass just rattling your bones and setting your nerves on fire.

Natasha's lips are beautifully soft against yours, a contrast to the harshness of her fingertips you can feel pressing into the side of your face. She tastes like cherry lip gloss and cigarette smoke, sweet but hazy to your senses. The redhead quickly takes a grip of your jaw, angling your head just right so she can drive the kiss deeper. You don't complain as she begins to domineer your mouth, tongue sliding across yours with the skills of a professional.

When you both finally pull back for air, you can only wonder why you forced yourself to wait for this so long. Her touch is like nothing you've ever felt before, your entire body simply set alight with a hunger for her. You look down at the redhead for a moment and Natasha smirks devilishly up at you, eyes blown wide before she's pulling you back in. Your hands hold the back of her neck as your lips collide once more, pulling her in as close to you as you can in a desperate need for more.

Natasha's fingers dance up your arms before you can feel her begin to press the leather jacket away from your shoulders. You move your hands to let her remove it, only hearing it crash to the floor as you try desperately to hold your lips against the rockstar's. A low whine erupts in your throat as you feel her pull away seconds later, your bruised mouth chasing hers.

But Natasha just lets herself grin as her hands caress your body, deft fingers running up and down your sides. Only moments later, she's reaching beneath the material of your shirt to pull it over your head. Her breaths are heavy as her eyes trace your exposed body, almost fixated on the swell of your breasts in the lacy balconette bra cladding your chest.

"Fuck," the redhead says under her breath. Her hands come up to caress your tits, squeezing them tenderly through the material as your own pants flow from your chest. Her lips connect soon after, kissing and nipping at the skin of your cleavage with delicate precision. You let your head fall back as the redhead pays attention to your chest, simultaneously sucking and playing with your tits with her mouth and hands, sending rolls of pleasure flooding down your spine.

When one of her hands slips up the bare skin of your back, her lips disconnect as she meets your eye. Her fingers play with the clasp of your bra as you look down at her. "Can I?" she whispers, face so close to your own.

"Uh huh," you reply, nodding your head quickly. It's only seconds later you can feel the release against your chest, Natasha's skilled hands making quick work of the clasp and tossing your brassiere to the side. Her attention is straight back on you as she reveals your bare chest, kissing the previously hidden skin as she murmurs soft praises into the flesh. "God, you're so beautiful."

Your fingers find a place running through her hair as she continues to play with your tits, red fibres intertwined with your painted nails. A string of softer sounds elicits from your throat as Natasha's fingers find your nipples, pinching and pulling at the hardened buds with just the perfect amount of pressure.

"Natasha," you breath out heavily, holding back a moan as her teeth replace her hands playing with your chest.

"Yeah baby?" the redhead responds, looking up at you but not removing her face from where it rests.

The look on her face only adds to the pool you can feel forming between your legs, all down to her touch and copious amounts of flirting. You want to see more of her, want to run your hands across her body. Not entirely confident enough to word it, you settle for a whine as you tug at her shirt. Thankfully, it seems Natasha is apt at picking up your signals because she smirks widely before reaching to untuck her shirt and pull it over her head.

As the rockstar tosses it somewhere across the room, you can't help but stare at the sight she's unveiled. Her tits sit beautifully in a red bralette, perked perfectly with pink nipples visible through the mesh material. Every part of you feels totally enamoured by her look, eyes unable to peel themselves away from her heavenly cleavage on display.

It's in your admiration, you find yourself distracted, not noticing the way the rockstar's hand has slipped up your skirt until you suddenly feel her touch against your underwear. A gasp escapes you as her fingers graze over your clothed core, most definitely feeling the way her tactics have saturated the material. The redhead makes eye contact with you, pupils dark. "This okay?" she whispers, voice as thick as honey.

It takes all your efforts to breathe out a response, entirely worked up by her touch. "Yeah," you reply, nodding quickly. By this point you would let her do whatever she wanted if it would soothe ache between your legs.

Natasha smiles widely as she hears your response. "Lift your hips for me," she says, playing a chaste kiss to your collar bone. You do ask she asks, rising up to your knees on the sides of the couch. It gives Natasha the room to hook her fingers underneath the sides of your underwear, pulling them down painfully slowly as she looks into your eyes. When she finally manages to slide them over your legs, she tosses them somewhere off to the side before pulling you back down to sit on her lap.

Just then, a sudden thought crosses your mind. "I've-I've never done this before," you stutter out. "With a woman, I mean."

You wonder for a moment if Natasha will be put off by your inexperience, but that thought is quickly extinguished when the redhead only smirks wider. "That's alright," she replies. "Cause I happen to be somewhat of an expert."

You let out the barest of a laugh at her words, letting the anxiety flood out of your mind. Natasha's smirk holds as you feel her hand creep up your skirt again, dancing over the delicate skin of your inner thigh. "Relax, sweetheart," she husks. "I got you now."

Her fingers move to again run over your centre, this time touching your bare skin as you feel her fingers trace your soaked folds. She collects the wetness pooling from your centre before dragging it up to your clit, spreading it as she slowly begins to circle the bud. A moan slips as she presses a little harder, her fingers perfectly pooling pleasure between your legs.

"That's it, baby," Natasha purrs, face close to your ear. "Let me hear all those pretty noises."

You feel your teeth plunge into your bottom lip as another moan slips from your throat. Natasha's touch is so teasingly slow you can't help but buck your hips a little into her hand. "Please-" you whine, desperate for her to do more.

Thankfully, Natasha obliges and another moan drawls from your chest as you feel her middle finger plunge into your core. Your muscles tense around her, pulling her finger in further as your face comes to burrow into the redhead's shoulder.

"Uh uh," Natasha sounds from above you. "Let me see your face, pretty girl." Her finger find your chin, directing your gaze back up until your eyes meet with hers."There you go."

She smiles widely as she leans in for a kiss, once again enveloping your lips in her sweet, sultry taste. The two of you press deeply into another, noses brushing together. You can feel Natasha's finger slowly begin to move inside you, teasing your walls as you whine against her mouth. Your lips only disconnect when you feel Natasha add another finger to the one pumping inside you, your face falling as a gasp sounds from your chest.

She works almost painfully slow, her fingers pulling virtually all the way out before steadily bottoming inside you once again. Each time, her fingertips press against that spot inside you, just softly enough for you to barely feel it. Chasing more of a high, your hips begin to rut against her hand. "Natasha," you whine, voice long and drawn out at her teasing attitude. Some part of you wonders if it's some form of payback for letting it take so long to get you in this position.

The rockstar places a soft kiss to the side of your neck before she's whispering in your ear, hot breath fanning out across the skin. "Shh, just ride my fingers," she says, smiling against you. You feel her free hand come to rest upon your hip, slowly guiding you to rut harder against her hand. Each time you do, you feel her fingers curl into that spot inside you, sending soft sighs of pleasure cascading from your lips.

"'Atta girl," Natasha husks, continuing to guide your movements with her palm. Your hands come to rest upon her shoulders, holding yourself up as you rock back and forth. The redhead's fingers slide in and out of you with each motion, the sounds of the wetness between your legs joined by the moans slipping from your tongue.

Natasha watches with wide eyes as you grind against her hand, fingers gripping into her shoulders as your pleasure grows. She lets her digits curl inside you, releasing sweet, sudden sounds from your lips. Her thumb moves to brush against your clit, the hardened surface sending shocks of pleasure through you each time you rock your hips.

"Fuck baby," Natasha says lowly, watching you practically fuck yourself on her lap. "Are you gonna make a mess?" she drawls. "You gonna make a mess all over my fingers for me?"

"Uh huh," you respond, barely managing to nod your head as you can feel that coil building tighter and tighter in your stomach. Natasha's touch is like electric to your skin, each thrust building to a crescendo at your core.

"Come on, angel," the redhead whispers. "Show me just how pretty you are when you cum."

Her words, alongside one last thrust of your hips is enough to send you toppling over that edge. Your moan is drawn out loudly as you feel yourself come undone, eyes slamming shut as you grip hold of Natasha's shoulders. Your body arches in to her, letting Nat take advantage of your chest with her mouth once more as her fingers ride you through your orgasm.

"Fuck," you breathe, finally starting to come down from your high. You open your eyes once more to see Nat smirking up at you, letting go of your nipple between her teeth as both of her hands now rest on your waist. As your mind clears, you let yourself begin to fall back down on to her lap, but when you accidentally land directly on her thigh, you feel a shock sent through your core. You wince, immediately lifting yourself back up at the sensitivity.

But Natasha seems to have other plans. "Shh, angel. It's okay," she murmurs as her hands grip harsher on to the skin of your waist. She begins to push you back down, eliciting a gasp as your sensitive core connects again with her leg. You squirm a little in the position, fighting ever so slightly against Natasha as she tries to drop your full weight on to her. "Just sit on my thigh," she drawls, hands guiding you down. "Just like that, there you go."

The position hikes your tight skirt all the up to your waist, completely exposing your cunt as it comes to rest against the bare skin of Natasha's thigh. You're pathetically wet against her, cum still dripping out your core from your previous orgasm. But if anything, Natasha only seems to enjoy the way you soak her skin, smirking up at you as her hands begin to direct you once again. Her movements force you to rock back and forth slowly, your slick coating the skin of her leg beneath you. The wave of pleasure that comes from the movement sends a moan tipping out your mouth, your head falling back as your clit throbs with each brush against Natasha's thigh.

"Does that feel good, baby?" the redhead beneath you husks, still guiding your movements. It takes all your focus to nod your head. "Mhm?" Natasha questions, her voice purely laced with amusement. "You're such a good girl. Just keep grinding on me, just like that."

You feel the rockstar's hands disengage from your waist but your movement continues, encouraged by her words and praise. You watch between fluttering eyelashes as Natasha reaches to take off her bra, tossing it aside and revealing her perfect tits to you. Then, you see as her hands moves to undo her shorts, opening each button before her fingers disappear beneath the waistband of the black denim.

You hold back a whine as you see her face contort, only imagining what her fingers may be doing under the material of those shorts. "God, you're making me so wet," the redhead breathes, reaching up to place a kiss on to your pouting lips. You release a whine into her, muffled by her tongue lapping over your own. "Such a pretty girl," Natasha mewls when she pulls away, one hand reaching up to caress your jaw. "So pretty just for me. Wanna see how wet I am for you?"

You feel yourself nodding as you look into her green eyes, turned even more on by the concept of Natasha getting off just by looking at you. The redhead removes her fingers from beneath her shorts before bringing them up to your face, letting you view the soaked digits momentarily before pressing them up to your lips. You take in her fingers welcomely, humming around them as you let the taste of her coat your tongue.

"Fuck, you're so hot," Natasha husks, sounding about as love-drunk as you felt sucking on her fingers. She lets you lap them up a moment longer before pulling them from your lips with a pop. Then, you watch as she dips them back below her shorts, moaning softly at the contact it makes on her hidden centre.

Your eyes feel almost transfixed on the hand concealed beneath the material of Natasha's black shorts. The only true indication of whatever her fingers are doing comes from the delicate hums and sighs that escape the redhead's lips. The sight alone is enough to make you grind your cunt harder against her thigh, desperately trying to ease the heat growing there.

The rockstar notices your attempts becoming more determined, fingers clutching at her shoulders as your own needy mewls drip from your tongue. "Are you gonna cum on my thigh baby?" she asks, smirking widely.

You grind faster against her, trying desperately to chase your high but it feels like it's never coming. "I can't," you whine, hopelessly rutting atop of her.

"You can," Natasha nods.

"Mm-hm," you hum, shaking your head. Your fingers grip harder into her skin, the feeling between your legs never quite reaching that peak you're seeking out.

"You can, baby," Natasha replies quickly, voice assertive. "Look, just like this." You feel her hands come to rest upon your ass, fingers gripping into the soft flesh before she begins to rock you once more. With her guidance, you follow a more structured pattern, your clit brushing perfectly against her thigh with each rock of your hips. "There you go," the redhead hums, watching your face screw up in pleasure at the newfound rhythm. Moans begin to cascade from your lips in desperate tones as each new thrust sends you closer to that edge. The way Natasha guides you sends perfect waves of pleasure through your entire body, your hands pressing into her shoulders to try ground yourself in the high. When you feel her fingers join in on the equation, your cries turn ever more lewd, her hand placed so that your clit brushes directly over her calloused tips each time you rut your hips.

"Come on baby girl," you hear Natasha husk, her face close to yours. "Cum for me. You can do it. Cum all over my thigh."

One more thrust sends you hurtling over the edge, screaming out as you feel a gush of warmth flooding onto Natasha's leg. Your arms wrap around her head, anchoring yourself in as you ride out your high, mewling choked moans into the redhead's ear. Natasha guides you through the orgasm once more, still slowly guiding your hips to an eventual stop. When you finally emerge from the crook of her neck, you're panting.

The rockstar admires the way your chest rises and falls, the green crystal still hanging around your neck, nestled in the valley of your breasts. "God, you're so fucking perfect," she husks, drinking in your figure. "I could get addicted to the way you look falling apart for me."

You don't say anything in response as you still try to calm yourself from the high, head feeling fuzzy as you look back at the redhead. She smirks widely as she watches you, utterly obsessed with the way you look sat on top of her, eyes glazed over in residual pleasure.

A single one of her fingers comes to swipe up some of the cum you've left slathered on her thigh, purposely brushing slightly over the top of your bruised clit just to watch you squirm a little before bringing her hand up to her own mouth. She practically laps up the stickiness coating her finger, humming lowly as your cum trickles down her throat. "God," she breathes, letting her finger fall. "I wish I had my strap so I could fuck that sweet little pussy of yours." You whine on top of her, still too inebriated to form a real response. Natasha only chuckles at your intoxication. "Would you like that, pretty girl? Like me to fuck you till you can't even think anymore?"

"Uh huh," you nod, already fantasying the image inside your head.

Natasha laughs again, tilting her head as she watches your face. "You're so cum-drunk right now I think you're already half way there. Isn't that right?" A low sound in the back of your throat is the only response, heightened when you feel Natasha's lips connect with your neck. She sucks as the soft flesh, glazing over the burn with her tongue. She stays there a moment, clearly leaving a mark on your skin that you have no idea how you'll cover up tomorrow. But quite frankly, you don't even care.

When Natasha pulls away, she notices how that glaze has left your eyes, your consciousness returning finally after your last climax. She smirks, eyeing you with that mischievous look as her face comes to rest near your cleavage, placing a chaste kiss to your sternum before looking back up. "You want me to empty that pretty head of yours some more?"

You're barely able to focus on her words as she lets her tongue circle around your nipple. In the end, you don't answer her question, simply whine as her teeth tease at the hardened bud. "Tasha-"

The nickname slips from your tongue almost too easily, your brain not even recognising it. Natasha, however, does, and she can't believe how amazing it sounds coming from your mouth. "Fuck," she whispers, coming face to face with you again. She looks into your eyes for a long moment before she begins to shift her body, turning yours with it. "Lie down for me, baby," she murmurs, twisting your body to lay down on the couch beneath you. "Just like that."

You let her manoeuvre you to the perfect position, arching slightly as the cold leather of the couch hits your back. Lying back, you watch as Natasha leans over you, placing a few quick kisses to your neck before travelling lower. When she reaches your waistline, her fingers work to unzip the skirt still clinging to your waist. She makes light work of undoing it before beginning to pull it down your legs, placing kisses on your warm flesh as she goes. When the article is tossed aside, the rockstar begins to unfasten the boots still tied to your feet. She removes them quickly, laying them aside and soon letting her own join them.

Then, you watch in awe as the redhead slowly slips her fingers into the waistband of her own shorts, almost making a show out of it as she slips the garment down. Shorts and underwear go at the same time as Natasha strips herself in front of you, smirking as she notices the way you stare. Your eyes never leave her as her body moves back towards the couch, coming to a rest above you as her knees straddle your waist. "You're so hot," you all but mumble, mesmerised by the sight in front of you.

Natasha simply chuckles lowly at your response. "Give me your hand," she says, reaching out towards your wrist. You let her take hold, watching intently as she guides you between her legs. She runs your fingers methodically through her folds, gasping quietly as the touch. She's soaked, slick coating your digits, probably residual from where she had been touching herself earlier. "You feel that? It's all for you, baby." Natasha hums as she guides your hand through her core. You can't help but let your own little noises slip, feeling just how wet she is beneath your touch. Your fingers curl at the ends, dipping into Natasha's centre before you pull them up to rub at her swollen clit. "Ah, fuck," the star moans, pinching her eyes closed. She lets you play with her a bit longer before she eventually pulls your hand away, letting it drop to your side. Instead, she reaches the hand she was using to guide you under your right thigh, squeezing into the flesh gently. "Lift your leg for me," she says, pulling upwards on your thigh.

You let her manoeuvre your leg, holding it up to the side while she adjusts her own body. You watch as one of her legs hooks over your waist, angling herself so that her core is directly above your own. When she sinks down to meet you, a lewd gasp sounds from your mouth, the new sensation electric against your skin. Natasha's cunt is wet against your own, accentuated by the cum that sill coats your sensitive folds.

"Oh my god," you breathe out, entirely in awe at the new feeling of the redhead against you. The star smirks down at you, letting your legs fall back into a relaxed position as she anchors herself to your hips with her hands. When she begins to move against you, the loud moans that escape you coat the entire room.

Her clit brushes beautifully against your own as Natasha rocks her hips back and forth, the noises of your combined wetness thick in the air. "Fuck, you feel so good," the redhead moans out, her own breath becoming shallow as she rolls against you. It doesn't mean that she lets her guard down entirely though, quickly noticing when your head lolls to the side and your eyes squeeze shut. "Eyes on me, beautiful," she directs, reaching out to grasp your face.

You let her turn your chin as you open your eyes back up, drinking in the sight in front of you. Natasha rocks back and forwards against you with a perfect rhythm, her tits bouncing with each new thrust. Natasha sees you watching and reaches for your hands, guiding them up to plump flesh of her chest. You squeeze roughly, savouring the delicate moans that spill from the rockstar's lips.

"God, you're so hot," the redhead murmurs between heavy breaths. "I just can't get enough of you. Maybe I'll just have to bring you along on tour with me, let you be my little groupie."

You moan loudly, not only from the way Natasha's cunt grinds over your swollen clit, but also at the teasing voice and notion of her words. Natasha smirks down at you. "You like that idea, huh?" she husks. "You wanna be my little groupie who I fuck like this after all my shows?"

You don't have the ability to form a response to her, merely putting all of your energy into chasing your combined high. Your back arches off the cold leather of the couch as you try your best to rock your hips against the rockstar's, listening to the sound of your wet cunts grinding desperately against one another. When a particular thrust bumps across your clit, a whine sounds low in the back of your throat. "Tasha-"

The nickname does wonders once again in Natasha's mind, sounding so sweet lacing your tongue. "Fuck," she murmurs, trying to keep up her pace. "I want you to say my name like that when you cum baby, okay?"

You nod weakly, chest heaving. "Good girl." Natasha bucks slightly as your clits brush over one another, her legs twitching by your sides. "Fuck."

The two of you continue to rock against one another, your moans harmonising together as you both climb closer to your climax. Your hands rest upon Natasha's full thighs, gripping for support as the pleasure rolls over you in waves. She clasps at your waist, feeling the thin layer of perspiration coating your skin.

"Fuck," you breathe out. "I think I'm gonna-"

"Cum for me," Natasha finishes, thrusting into you. You do as she says and let that coil loose in your stomach, letting your orgasm shred through you as you all but scream out in pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Tasha."

Her name dripping from your lips sends the redhead over the edge too, rutting against you as she cums hard. "Shit," she mumbles, riding her wave as the combination of your juices blends together and soaks both of your legs.

Both of your bodies tense, movements becoming sloppy as your highs hit. When nearly a minute later, you've both come down from the peak, Natasha slowly untwines your legs from one another. She flops down on the couch beside you, barely enough room for the two of you to lie next to another. For a while you two sit with the combined sounds of your own heavy breaths, both of your bare chests heaving in the warmth of the room.

"Oh my god," you manage to slip out, finally aware of how you've just had the best sex of your life. Nothing could ever compare to what Natasha had just done to you, no other partner ever even coming close to making you cum that hard.

Natasha seeks amusement in your blown out state, clearly enjoying the revelation painted on your face. She rolls her head towards you, her signature smirk making one final appearance. "I told you, you wouldn't regret coming back stage with me."

Your head turns towards her, meeting her widened eyes still dark with lust. You almost want to tell her she's wrong, that all your avoiding earlier had been the right path you go down, but you know it's all bullshit. She was right, there wasn't a single ounce of regret in your bones.

Natasha smiles at your clear agreeance, almost smug in the way she licks her lips. She props herself up on to one arm, leaning over you with those dark emerald eyes. Her fingers come to find the crystal hanging around your neck, rolling the stone between her fingertips as she smiles deeply. Then, she turns back to you, looking as sly as she first had back in that bathroom stall. "Now," she drawls. "About that groupie thing..."

#natasha romanoff #rockstar natasha romanoff #rockstar nat #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fic #band au #✧yana writes

[bibyshitsuji24k]

Weston College AU - o!Ciel x m!Lizzy (Elliot)

Mini fic [read here] ↓

"Lizzy, we can't be seen together so often, or people will start to suspect," warned the young Earl Phantomhive, now a student at the prestigious Weston College.

"I'm sorry, Ciel! But there's new information I must tell you," replied his fiancée, Elizabeth Midford, who had cut her hair and now wore boys' uniform to infiltrate the school. Ciel sighed.

"You said the same thing yesterday and only told me about your classmates…"

"You're right, but this time I found out something about the blond boy!" Lizzy defended herself as she leaned in close to Ciel's ear. This small action made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, but he quickly focused on her words.

"Listen, at night—" Ciel quickly interrupted her, placing a hand over her lips and gripping her left arm, pushing her against the wall. The young woman was surprised but did nothing.

"Shh," he hushed her, turning her head to the left. Elizabeth, now going by the name Elliot, immediately noticed his gesture and turned her face in the same direction.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but this is neither the time nor the place for trivial discussions," interrupted a figure that had approached.

"Seb-- Professor Michaelis!?" Lizzy stifled a small scream. Regardless of the situation, the engaged couple couldn't be alone in closed places, as agreed upon. Lizzy recalled that 'small' detail.

"It's not proper for gentlemen to eavesdrop," Ciel interrupted, annoyed by the intrusion.

"It's study hours; students are not allowed to converse," responded the butler, now in the role of a teacher, looking at the young couple with a disapproving grimace, "and especially not to be alone together," he added. Elizabeth blushed violently at his comment. Her proximity to Ciel wasn't unusual, but they had never been alone together.

"I-I'm sorry, Professor Michaelis. We'll talk later, Ciel. G-goodbye!" Elizabeth said nervously, hurrying away. Her silhouette disappeared after a few seconds.

"Really?" questioned the student to the professor, glancing at him from the corner of his eye as he crossed his arms.

"Young master, I intend to fulfill my role as a butler regardless of the situation, and that includes you acting as a gentleman," Sebastian responded with a smile, "I cannot allow inappropriate activities between you and Miss Elizabeth."

"What…?" The color red flooded Ciel's face, a mix of annoyance and embarrassment, as he projected his fiancée's face in his mind. Reluctantly, he stepped away from Sebastian, who sighed. Nanny to two engaged teenagers; just what he needed.

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #ciel phantomhive #elizabeth midford #ciel x lizzy #cielizzy #yana toboso #o!ciel #black butler manga #fanfic #black butler fanfic #my art #art #my writing #anime fanart #anime art #illustration

[er4tous]

Gender Neutral reader, O!Ciel Phamtomhive

Young kids love lol, Pure teeth rotting fluff, semi-proofread.

Ciel has brought his playmate home again, Vincent and his wife Rachel peek through the door on the kids playing, feeling scandalized at the revelation of y/n on top of their 6 year old son kissing him on the lips , As the kids pull away and gigle.

They both adjust and they lay down on top of him, their head on his chest, hand spread out and tracing circles on top of his heart.

After a brief moment of silence ciel wraps his arms tightly around them and starts speaking

“I dont know why you spend so much time playing with me instead of my brother” He pouts, and lifts his arm to start playing with their hair

They immediately sit up at his comment and hold his hands, making him sit up and look at them in the eyes

”Ciel, youre awesome! i would never trade you for anything else in the world” they exclaim, before hugging ciel and whispering words of love and appreciation like "youre the bestest" "i love you sososososo much" in his ear that the phantomhive couple cannot hear, but seeing the happy face of their son knowing that someone loves his entire being makes the couple think that, maybe, just this once, they can let this slide.

Their son might have sneakily gotten into a puppy love relationship, but theyre more than happy to approve his sons relationship with their future in law, and a future member of the phantomhive family.

#ciel phantomhive #yana toboso #black butler #ciel x reader #fanfic #childhood au #kuroshitsuji #sebastian michaelis #fanfiction #fanfic writing #ao3fic #fanfics #vincent phantomhive #rachel phantomhive #o!ciel #black butler x reader

[megamindsupremacy]

Stewjon is Space Scotland: Names and Naming Conventions

For context, I designed an entire naming system for my Stewjon is Space Scotland AU. I'm still trying to work out the cultural logistics of it, but the actual practical logistics I have down.

To break everything down:

Stewjon is a clan-centric society, with clans and clan names having a hugely important role in the culture. I therefore had clan names feature in both the first and last name of Stewjonis.

-The last name (Kenobi) is the family/clan name, and is passed down the family paternally. This is both because I'm from a western culture with a paternal naming tradition, and also because I liked how his parents names sounded when the last names transferred paternally but not maternally. "Ken" would translate to "Clan" (I don't know if this is accurate to Scots English or Scots Gaelic, but I'm working from canon Star Wars names and trying to worldbuild from nothing so work with me here), and then the clan name "Obi" is attached, so "Kenobi" translates to "Clan Obi" or "of Clan Obi"

-The given name (-Wan, but we'll get to "Wan" in a second) is one to two syllables. All of these names are (according to Wikipedia) actual Scottish names, which I picked from the list mostly based on how well they'd sound next to the clan name.

-The prefix clan name (Obi-) is the interesting part. All children are given the father's clan name as both their first and last clan name. Therefore, Obi-Wan Kenobi, son of Ito-Benneit Kenobi, has "Obi" in both his first and last name. However, upon marriage, the couple swaps their prefix clan names to signify the tie between their clans. Therefore his mother Ito-Ceit Kenito and his father Obi-Benneit Kenobi became Obi-Ceit Kenito and Ito-Benneit Kenobi upon their marriage.

-Originally I was going to do something with the fact that "Obi" means belt in Japanese, such as making the clan names signify professions in the same way "Miller" or "Smith" would in English surnames, but I gave up because Japanese is so different of a language from what I understand that I would have just made myself very confused and everyone who understands Japanese language and culture very mad. So I just went with a vowel-consonant-vowel pattern for all the clan names and called it a day.

-Remember how I said we would come back to "Wan"? Obi-Wan wasn't born Obi-Wan Kenobi. He was born Obi-Owen (Owen is a whole 'nother thing and I decided to just give myself a freebie on it), and his name was anglicized (basic-icized?) upon being brought to the Jedi temple. Not on purpose, but it did happen. So technically the chart above should have him listed as Obi-Owen Kenobi, but I already took the screenshot so this is what we're working with.

-Culturally, it's respectful to refer to someone by their full name (Obi-Owen Kenobi). The full name stands until two people are fairly close to each other, platonically or romantically. The informal, friendly version would be their full first name (Obi-Owen). So you wouldn't call your new friend "Obi-Owen" until you're quite close, even if you're social equals. Technically you could refer to someone by their given name only (Owen), but it's awkward and Stewjonis don't really see a reason for it. All of this highlights the cultural emphasis placed on clans and clan ties in Stewjoni society.

The Family Tree

THE KIDS

Starting from the bottom, we have the four Kenobi siblings. Obi-Conn is the oldest, and he marries Yana-Eóin Kenyana, becoming Yana-Conn Kenobi. None of this happens in the story but I wrote it in the chart anyways. Obi-Eóin is nonbinary, which is why their square is white instead of blue or pink.

Obi-Mór and Obi-Pál are twins and approximately four years younger than Yana-Conn. Obi-Mór is ambiguously disabled (she has some form of muscular disability, but the specifics weren't relevant to the story). Obi-Pál is just some guy and I love him for that.

Obi-Owen is the baby of the family. He's twelve years younger than the twins (16 years younger than Yana-Conn) and was definitely an oopsie-baby. I don't need to say anything else because he is also one of the major characters of the Star Wars franchise. You know him.

THE PARENTS

Obi-Ceit Kenito and Ito-Benneit Kenobi are the Kenobi siblings' parents. I don't have much to say here other than that Ito-Benneit shortens his name to Ito-Ben, to avoid the repeated "eet" sound in his full first name. I'm sure that doesn't affect Obi-Owen's future nicknames in any way!

It is Ito-Benneit fault, by the way, that I made clan prefixes instead of surnames to be switched upon marriage. Culturally, it would have made more sense for the more commonly used first name to hold your birth clan and your less commonly used surname to indicate your linked-by-marriage clan, but I needed Obi-Benneit to marry into the name Ito-Benneit so that I could shorten it to Ben. Goddammit.

THE GRANDPARENTS

Ito-Ben's parents are entirely irrelevant so they don't exist. Sad!

Technically I didn't have to name Ito-Lili Kenuna, but I felt bad having her up there as an unnamed person. Una-Owen Kenito, as you may suspect, is where Obi-Wan's name comes from. I really wanted to highlight his Stewjoni heritage in this fic, so giving him family ties through his whole name was important to me. Obi-Ceit names Obi-Owen for her father because Una-Owen was a strong fighter, and she wants to pass that resilience to her son. Which, uh. Well he sure is resilient to things trying to kill him!

Feel free to come yell at me in the askbox about Stewjon's worldbuilding!

#mads posts #stewjon is space scotland AU #star wars #obi wan kenobi #obi-wan kenobi #stewjon #i have without a doubt spent more time researching for this fic than i have writing it #but honestly thats where im having the most fun #hey can you tell i took a cultural anthropology class last semester and there was a unit in family + naming conventions? #can you tell im taking a linguistics class this semester? #i dont think its obvious. it's probably really super subtle and sprinkled lightly throughout the post right #right? guys? right? #this fic started out as an excuse to write about textiles and its turned into a scots gaelic linguistic deep dive <- this user is autistic #something else about the naming system that I didnt get into the post is that it reinforces a hetero+allonormative society #because marriage is hugely important to naming practices and clan names are based on the father's clan #which presupposes there even being a father in the marriage #or even a marriage #I dont know what yana-conn and Obi-eóin will do with their kids. theyre part of the younger generation and obi-eóin is being nb is a very #strange concept for many of the older generations #given that this is star wars and xenobiology exists i dont think there would be a huge backlash #but stewjon is a human-centric society so they're not as used to non-binary *human* genders #aliens? sure. humans? uhhhh we didnt know you could do that. weird. #obi-eóin's name is never even fucking mentioned in the fic btw im just going insane over here with worldbuilding #long post

[folansstuff]

I keep thinking about the idea of a Cyclops and Magik book. I find their relationship so interesting, since most of the time when there's a split or something, Illyana pretty much immediately jumps to Scott's side in the conflict (like the Extermination Squad/post Phoenix Five team).

And then we get stuff like this from the pre-FoX X-Men run. Or Illyana joining Jean and Scott for Christmas shopping instead of, you know, their children. I just like the idea that Illyana looks up to this dude who is very, very complicated, but is still trying to do the right thing regardless as a leader and pseudo-father figure. Especially since she joined the New Mutants so young.

Maybe it could be something like a Summer/Grey family holiday/mission, where Scott is just like:

Scott: Time for a holiday. Just me, Jean, Emma, Rachel, Nathan and Illyana. Jean: Illyana? Scott: Of course? She's one of our daughters, Jean.

And it's just the rest of the family having to deal with Illyana and Scott being buddies the whole time, Rachel is down but Nathan is kinda weird about it. It'd be neat if it examined her relationship with Piotr as well, since their relationship being splintered somewhat (even tho they started to mend it in Vita Ayala's New Mutants run until that thread got dropped thanks guys I definitely didn't want to see Piotr and Yana happy of course not) might be why Illyana is attaching to Scott so much.

I just think it'd be fun, I guess.

#plus id get more cute yana moments #and im always down for more yana moments #i may end up writing an outline for this lmao #maybe #x-men #magik #illyana rasputin #new mutants #cyclops #scott summers #i dont have a good name for it but if i come up with one i WILL post it here

[cloudedgalaxies]

BABE WAKE UP LEONA KINGSCHOLAR IS THE SEXIEST MAN ALIVE AND HE KNOWS IT

WHY AM I AN EN PLAYER I NEED THIS CARD YESTERDAY

#IM SCREAMING I WAS ABOUT TO GO BACK TO WRITING FIC WITH HIM AND THEN I SAW THIS AND #SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP SOBBING SHAKING CONVULSING ON THE FLOOR #CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE *PONYTAIL* #CAN I MARRY HIM?? PLEASE YANA TOBOSO CAN YOU MAKE HIM REAL??? #sooo lucky he isnt out on EN yet tho because i literally have no gems. TIME TO SAVE #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #leona kingscholar #cloudedgalaxies

[defiledtomb]

ok who woke the bear

#ouroboros-if #interactive fiction #yor/yana #I did not feel like writing today so :slams this on your desk: here you go. tiddies. #if you are wonderig why im not answering asks currently: im back to work and it takes me some time to adjust/leaves me utterly drained #usually doesn't last too long #i have some asks I *need* to share they are so good but im so incoherent hsjdhdjdjfhf. clutching them to my chest for now sory #i hope this old man will tide you over

[coffee4jordan]

I was going to make a joke about Aniplex and Disney working together so I went to the Wikipedia for Twisted Wonderland and that’s how I found out Yana Toboso, the creator of Black Butler, was in charge of the script and character designs 💀💀💀 This is how I imagine the meetings going:

Yana Toboso: so the backstories for the antagonists are a little dark but it’s nothing too bad, just like bullying and helicopter parenting, lots of family issues

Disney Japan: Alright, that sounds fine

Yana Toboso: And the characters are heavily implied to be gay for each other but don’t worry, nothing is canon, like you wanted

Disney Japan: *sweating* o-okay

Yana Toboso: also the students are incredibly violent and almost kill each other sometimes, but there’s no murder, like you wanted

Disney Japan: *on the verge of tears, trembling* Toboso sensei-

Yana Toboso: Then Vil tries to murder Neige, but don’t worry-

Disney Japan: *crying* Toboso sensei, we can’t say that!

#this explains so much #the tweels are exactly the sort of characters Yana Toboso would write #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #yana toboso #disney japan #twst book 5 #vil schoenheit #twst vil #neige leblanche #twst neige #twst housewardens #overblot #black butler

[rosainta]

Day 4 of Rosain Quivan’s Daily Logs

Started December 10th, 2023 at 8:24PM, Home Finished December 10th, 2023 at 10:45PM, Home Log #4

Author's Notes: Originally, I planned for this short story to be only a two-parter. However, I got so carried away with writing backstory and researching facts about the Siberian Mountains and the USSR that I ended up having enough for two more parts. I hope you don't mind, but hey, at least that means more Heavy and Medic-centred interaction in the future, heehee!

I won't say much more, but I hope you enjoy this history-compliant log, as well as all the little references sprinkled here and there!

Title: King of Hearts (Part Two) Fandom: Team Fortress 2 New Mexico, Badlands, Teufort City, The Cap Point 6:45PM, sometime during the Gravel War

"Well", Heavy begins, "it all starts when I first begin to live in Siberian Mountains with family, after escaping shoot-out in gulag."

Sniper nods, acknowledging the tough living conditions his friend had to endure to provide for his family. If he wasn't so curious about the toughened man's relationship with the team doctor, he would have diverged into another conversation entirely, mostly about survival tips. Ever since he was a child, had always dreamed of living in the mountains one day, just him and his camper van... but that is a story for another day.

"Anyway, our father had just been killed, and we had no money. We could not show face to society, or Soviets would put family back in gulag, so we head to Urals."

"Life was very hard on us, but Heavy had to protect family at all cost. We found small but safe community on far outskirt of Soviet city Magadan, where we meet with kind lady who let us settle in her late husband's house in exchange for manual work and company."

Heavy shifts in his chair and pulls a worn, leather wallet out of his pocket. Flipping through a few cards and other minuscule belongings, he eventually retrieves a small, faded picture.

"Here, this is lady", the robust Russian says softly, holding the photo out for the marksman to see and pointing at an aged figure. "Behind is woman's shoppe. If ever you visit Siberia, you must visit. Is very cozy."

The full image was of a youthful Heavy and his sisters and mother, alongside another woman wearing a red hood and light-brown coat. She seemed to be in her late 40's, but she would most likely be a lot older now, considering the aged quality of the picture. Everyone was smiling happily, with frosty snow cozily blanketing their feet. Behind them was a furnished wooden cabin, with the name "магазин джугджур", which roughly translates to "Jugjur Shop."

"Wow", the bushman half-whispered, "you must owe a lot to her if you kept a shot of her all these years."

Heavy smiles, putting the photo and the wallet back. "Yes, is true. Without her, Heavy and family would have probably frozen to death, or be captured and tortured in another city."

Sniper takes a sip of his martini. "I do have a question, though."

"Go ahead."

"How'd you make sure she wasn't a Soviet? She might'a been a secret agent and turned you in to the police, or maybe even captured you herself?"

"Ah, Heavy had same doubts too at time", he says, tipping the waitress as she brings him his drink.

"Luckily, lady was as anti-Soviet as I was. Her son, who was abroad in Moscow at time, was shot by Soviet officer during civilian massacre. It had ruined her husband, and he had committed suicide only a year after."

"The Soviets had ruined her life and her family, and she hated them with passion that is remarkable for such a nice lady. Maybe it was reason she was so eager to help us when she found out we were refugees."

"Oh. I see. I'm sorry to have brought that up, that must've been hard to recount," Sniper replies silently, slightly stunned and uncomfortable from the sudden change in mood that sprang from his question. Thankfully, Heavy senses his mood and puts his bottle of vodka down next to his martini.

"Do not worry, she is strong woman. Heavy's family takes good care of her, because she is part of us now", the giant says gently.

Sniper worried expression softens to a smile. "That's good to hear, mate."

"Anyway," Heavy continues, "family continues to live in mountains in secret for some time. We hunt bear, and... well, mostly bear, and we cut wood and help run shoppe with lady for a few years before only visiting once a month."

"Is nice, but eventually, family gets bored of seeing snow and killing bear all the time, you know?"

"Ah, yeah," the shartpshooter replies, though he doesn't quite know what to make of that, seeing as he's never done that before. Not minding, Heavy goes on.

"So, one day, Heavy takes family to go out and visit city of Magadan on mother's birthday. At time, I was blinded by boredom, and I did not consider how highly dangerous it was to bring family back to place where we could get imprisoned again."

"But, we were all hungry for something more than food, and it was special occasion after all, so we decided we would hide ourselves with thick coat hood and keep away from guards and populous area."

"At first, we were very excited to be back in a community again. We could see buildings, hear people talking everywhere, smell food that was not killed with fist. But sister Bronislava, who was still quite young at time, was most excited of us all, and she really loved being in city."

"She was always pointing at different stores we pass by, and her laughter when she heard choir boys singing near churches was infectious. However, her most favourite sight of all were boats at the port of Magadan."

"Even when she was very little, Bronislava loved travelling. She read many books on world, and her dream was to visit Paris one day and become pilot. Of course, she knew because of how Russia was at time that this dream could not be possible, but this did not stop her from dreaming."

"So," Heavy says, uncapping his vodka and pouring it into a glass "she was begging for us to go closer to port to see boat. 'Please, brother Misha, let us go on boat and sail!', she would say. But I said no- there were too many guards nearby and we would get caught for sure."

"Aw, can't let a little girl have some fun?," Sniper interrupts, teasing.

"If you don't want to be killed, then no," the towering man replies blatantly.

"Right, sorry, go on," Sniper says quickly, blushing.

"Sister Bronislava would not listen, though, no matter what Heavy or mother or sisters said to her. She would insist and insist, and we had to hold her back at one point so she would not run away herself, but she continued."

"She really wanted to go on the boats. Her whining turned to crying, and her crying turned to screaming, until it was certain a guard would catch us anyway because of how loud she was being. It was miserable and terrifying sight, and Heavy could already feel regret for having endangered and hurt family like this."

"But luckily," Heavy says with a chuckle, "her tantrum did not last very long. Just as family was about to leave and hide from inevitable imprisonment, a very interesting, travelling man tapped my shoulder from behind."

Just as Heavy utters the words, someone really does tap his shoulder. Heavy turns to meet their eyes, and immediately, he grins.

"Eavesdropping again, doktor?", he asks, pulling a chair for him to sit next to him and Sniper.

"Ooh, I simply couldn't resist! Mostly because I can still picture ze face you made when you turned around like a frightened deer", Medic exclaims, laughingly.

Heavy groans and rolls his eyes, whilst his two seatmates look at each other, both surprised and amused.

"The big, tough, scary Heavy, frightened? I'd never imagine such a thing!" Sniper chuckles, clinking his martini glass to cheers with the doctor's fizzing sparkling water.

"It was not as bad as doktor puts it, okay?", Heavy grumbles, eyes averted to their playful gazes. Still, you could tell by the way his face reddened and, again, the way his eyebrows lifted that it was, in fact, as bad as he put it.

"Whatever floats your boat, mein friend", Medic says, no pun intended. Sniper downs his martini in one go, signaling the waitress for another glass.

Wanting to change the subject, the flustered giant gets up to grab a deck of cards on a nearby table. He returns, shuffling the cards in his large, calloused hands.

"Let us continue story over game of cards, yes? I find that it will fit in well with next part."

To be continued in RQDL 5... Credits: Team Fortress 2 by Valve Image source: Team Fortress 2 Written by Rosain Quivan Cross posted on Amino ( Rosain Quivan )

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 heavy #tf2 sniper #tf2 medic #heavymedic #backstory #ussr #siberia #background characters #tf2 siberian shop lady #tf2 bronislava #tf2 heavy's mother #tf2 heavy's family #tf2 yana #tf2 zhanna #team fortress two #writing #writing practice #part 2 #rosain quivan's daily logs #i accidentally ended up writing way more than expected on one part that now I need to make more ahhhhhh #more heavy medic stuff in future though so yay

[redlips-greensleeves]

Sbcl is good and all but fem!sbcl just does something to me that plain old sbcl cannot

#in celebration of the new kuro anime I just might write fem!sbcl #sebaciel #this is totally not because I think the fem!sebastian that yana drew is delicious #totally not #leafs lilting

[yanaromanov]

a beautiful canvas

｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

summary: you have always loved nat’s tattoos so one day decide to give them a bit more colour…

warning(s): just fluff, mentions of nat having lots of tattoos, very brief mention of sex, r gives nat a massage, non-sexual nudity, soft natasha, minors dni.

authors note: saw one of those tiktoks of people colouring in their partner’s tattoos and just had to write a little something about it with natasha :))

wc: 3.1K words

Natasha’s tattoos have always been one of your most favourite parts about her appearance. Mostly because a great deal of them were hidden, always tucked away behind jeans and leather jackets. Your upmost favourites had to be the ones littered in places only you ever got to see; the curve of her hips, her upper thigh, between the valley of her breasts. All of those were reserved just for your eyes, like a secret treasure only you had the map to.

Natasha hadn’t had as many tattoos when you’d first met her, barely half a dozen scattered in different places of her body. But in the years you two had been dating, the redhead had collected more and more pieces of artwork to adorn her skin. Some of them she had even let you chose yourself, knowing just how much you loved each piece after you’d mentioned it on one of your first ever dates and never stopped admiring since. Just something about the way she looked scattered with such beautiful artwork was another one of the reasons you had fell so hard in love.

Your utter admiration of her tattoos was something that lead to the idea that popped into your head one afternoon. Due to Natasha’s natural reluctance to do anything as silly as the thought you’d had, the entire operation had had to be kept secret until the perfect time to strike. You’d prepared for about a week before the fateful night had arrived and you could carry out your plan.

Natasha came home late in the evening, her two-day mission having extended just slightly longer than she had hoped. You were cozied up on the couch when you’d heard her slip in through the door, a melody of “detka, i’m home” flooding through the house and to your ears. You’d barely had the time to sit up from your position when Natasha had appeared at the living room doorway. She was wearing a set of comfy clothes, those she always packed for travelling home from missions. Her long red hair was pulled back in a signature messy braid, little wisps dancing around her tired face.

“Hey, baby,” you said warmly as you watched a smile creep on to the widow’s face. She made her way around the furniture in the room, coming to a halt at the couch before throwing herself down on it. Your arms instinctively wrapped around her, holding her close as you kissed the top of her head. Natasha buried her face into the crook of your neck, a string of muffled noises and whispered ‘i missed you’s’ breathed into your skin. Natasha was always like this whenever she got home from missions and you loved it. To the majority of the world she was the fearsome black widow, but within these walls, she was always just the soft, loving woman you had the pleasure of calling your girlfriend.

“I missed you too,” you answered softly as you stroked your fingers senselessly up and down the redhead’s spine. She remained that way in your embrace for a long time, breathing gently into the skin of your neck. Then, she slowly sat up to reach her lips to yours. The kiss was the same vehement act it always was when Natasha had been away for a few days, like she’d forgotten what you’d tasted like and needed to remind every part of herself. You revelled in the touch of her lips against your own, soft but ardent as she held your face with calloused hands, pulling you in ever closer. When you broke away, Natasha’s forehead rested against yours, eyes looking back with such adoration and love you could almost melt. But there was also something else behind that sea of green, something only you had come to notice over the years of being with Natasha. You reached up to brush her cheek as you looked straight through her. “What’s wrong?”

The redhead sighed, shaking her head ever so slightly. She’d learned to accept the fact you could always see right through any barriers she put up, how you were the only one who could always tell how she was truly feeling. “Sore,” she mumbled, her voice laced with the reluctance that came with ever admitting defeat. Around you, she had become comfortable enough to at least admit when she wasn’t perfectly okay, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still difficult.

“Hey,” you replied, reaching a finger under the redhead’s chin to bring her gaze back to yours. The pain was hiding in her eyes, almost invisible behind that veil only you seemed to have the ability to cross. “I love you.” Your words were pointed but calm, enough to remind Natasha how she was always safe to be herself with you.

The redhead picked up on your tone, that sense of home flooding her bones once more as she looked back into your eyes. “I love you too.”

You released a small breath before you stood up to your feet, extending out a hand towards the still sitting assassin. “Come on,” you said, beckoning her with your fingertips. Natasha met you with an inquisitive eye, tracing your face and then your outreached hand. Ultimately, she decided to give in to the ambiguity of your invitation and connected her hand with yours.

Wrapping your fingers around the palm of your girlfriend, you began to pull her gently away from the living room and towards the house’s stairs. You were silent as you pulled her up, the only communication a gentle smile you passed as you reached the top landing. The door of your bedroom was pushed open as you guided Nat inside, finally dropping her hand before it clicked closed behind you.

Your lips came to press a long kiss onto Natasha’s cheek before you began to slowly undress her body. Her hoodie was the first thing to go, black fabric slipping over her head and ruffling her hair. You adjusted it slightly after tossing the jumper aside, moving to then pull off the grey joggers from her legs. When you rose up from the floor, Nat was left standing in her shirt and underwear, looking down at you with that same inquisitive look. You smiled a little at how cute she was with that little crease between her brows before you reached to kiss it away.

Natasha let out a small little groan, just the barest of noises at the back of her throat. “I’m sorry, detka but I think I’m too sore to have sex right now.”

A small breath of laughter escaped your lips as you smiled back at your girlfriend. “Relax, I’m not trying to have sex with you,” you replied, rolling your eyes at Natasha’s quick assumption. “I’m going to give you a massage.”

You watched as the redhead’s face softened, clearly much more appreciative of your offer than what had first come to mind. She watched as you too stripped yourself of your daytime wear, leaving you in a matching ensemble to your girlfriend stood opposite. “You know, you don’t have to,” Natasha started, sighing slightly.

You were interrupting before she could even try to explain further. “I want to. Now lie down.” The redhead looked back, unmoving. You rolled your eyes at her hesitance before reaching for her shoulders. “Natasha. Lie down.” With some help from your touch, the widow eventually let herself fall atop of the mattress of your shared bed.

You made sure she was in the right position, laying on her front with arms by her sides, before you took your own spot straddling her body. Making sure your weight was distributed nicely, you found a spot sitting just at the curve of her ass. For a moment you simply admired the sight in front of you; your girlfriend laying so comfortably in the bed you shared, little baby hairs curling at the nape of her neck where her braid rested, her arms displayed with many of the tattoos you so desperately adored. After a good moment of just looking at the beauty before you, you began on your promise of a massage.

Natasha’s back was tense beneath your hands, muscles taught from days of being away on her mission. She was often like this when she returned, often stressed and her body sore from how much she’d put it through. You’d had conversations before about how it was too dangerous for her to be doing such avenging activities when she didn’t have the godly capabilities or impressive technology of her peers, but you also knew that Natasha loved her job and some innate part of her felt the need to help others. So, you’d both agreed that as long as she promised to always come back home to you in one piece, she could do as much avenging or spy work as she desired.

Slowly, as you worked your fingers into the muscles of the redhead’s back, you could feel Natasha begin to ease up. Soft, appreciative noises emanated from her as you worked the tension from her body, paying close attention each time you found a knot and carefully working it out. Nat murmured gentle gratitudes of your work as you hummed a little tune in response, the intimacy of the moment permitted to exist in the evening light of your bedroom.

When you had felt Natasha finally ease away from the rigidity, her body relaxing into the mattress beneath the traction of your touch, you had switched up your tactics. Instead of massaging into her tired muscles, you began to run your fingertips delicately over her exposed skin. Feather-light touches danced between her arms then to the area of her bare back where you had pushed her shirt upwards. The redhead let out the barest of twitches when they raked the baby hairs at the nape of her neck. You let your fingers ripple across her skin for a long while, beginning to trace the lines of the beloved tattoos etched into her skin.

That was when your idea had cropped back into the forefront of your mind, suddenly reminded of the thing you had been waiting to do for days. With the perfect opportunity placed in front of you, you pressed a chaste kiss to the back of your girlfriend’s neck before sliding yourself off of her body.

Natasha grumbled when she felt your weight shift, then again when she say you rummaging in a drawer across the room. “What are you doing?” she murmured, voice sounding tired and confused.

“Nothing, just lie back down,” you replied. A little gasp of excitement slipped out as you laid eyes on the packet you had hidden in the drawer earlier that week, shrouded away until such a perfect time to take it out. Natasha tried to catch a glimpse of whatever was in your hand as you made your way back across the room. You straddled her once more, making her have to crane her neck to see the colourful packet you placed on the bed beside you.

“Are those markers?”

You smiled a little at both the confused tone of your girlfriend’s voice and the small scowl on her face. “Yep,” you replied easily, adjusting yourself to get comfortable on her back once again. “I’m gonna colour in your tattoos.”

“What?” Natasha replied, craning back even further to look up at your face.

“Relax,” you replied, voice light. You reached to turn her face back towards the bed. “The markers aren’t permanent.” That had been something you had ensured when you had ordered the packet online, alongside the fact they were completely skin safe. You had had everything planned out perfectly for this moment ever since the idea of colouring in Nat’s tattoos had appeared in your mind.

Natasha let out a sigh as her face was pressed back towards the mattress. “Y/N, this silly.”

“Yeah, it is,” you replied quickly, not arguing with the childish nature of your wishes. Nevertheless, you were determined to use Natasha as your personalised human colouring book. “But I really wanna do it so just lay down and be a good canvas.”

You placed another quick kiss to the back of your girlfriend’s neck before reaching to pull a marker from the pack, smiling at the fact that Nat seemed to have no further arguments towards your proposition. She only turned her head to the side as you uncapped the marker and pressed it towards the skin of her bicep. Green ink began to spread between the black lines of drawn leaves upon Natasha’s skin, your hand careful as to not spill over the edges. As you worked, Natasha twitched, her arm moving beneath you. “It tickles,” she murmured.

“Shh, canvases aren’t supposed to talk.”

You watched from the corner of your eye as Nat rolled hers in their sockets, a very exaggerated scoff sounding from her throat. You simply held in your giggle as you reached to hold on to her arm, preventing her from moving it again and ruining your picture.

Once the leaves had been filled in green, you swapped the marker out for a pink as you began to work on the rose petals etched into Natasha’s skin. The redhead made a comment about how she always pictured the flowers being red, to which was what met with a quick, amused ‘shutup’ from you as you continued to colour them your favourite colour.

After her rose tattoo, you moved on to the others dotted around Natasha’s arms. You chose blue for the snake wrapped around her forearm, then yellow and purple for the moon inspired piece above her elbow. Natasha made more comments about your colour choices, or about how you would sometimes miss a spot, all of which were silenced when you started placing methodical kisses to her shoulders and neck.

She held her tongue while you coloured the butterfly on right arm a rainbow cacophony of colours, then again when you bordered the lettering of the words tatted to her other bicep. Eventually, it had seemed the redhead had come to enjoy this activity almost as much as you, basking in the delicate touches you placed on her skin and the slight pleasant tickle that was brought along with the markers.

When you had finished colouring each piece on her arms, you had made Natasha lift up her body so you could pull off her shirt and begin on the large piece she had designed on her back. As you swapped between your markers, picking different colours for each part of the design, Natasha began to talk about her mission. She overlined the details of things that had went wrong as well as telling a small story of how Steve had fallen into the lake they had been fighting beside. You chuckled softly at her story, asking her all the questions and saying all the things you knew would help her slip away from the mindset of her work, leaving her mission in the past and falling into just this moment with you.

By the time that conversation had died down, the entirety of Natasha’s back had been emblazoned with a kaleidoscope of colours. You admired your work for a moment, making sure to let the ink dry before making the move to finish the last part of your job. You lifted up from Natasha, guiding the redhead to flip over on to her back before settling back onto her hips and looking down at her face.

“Now, that’s a prettier view,” Natasha said, suddenly smiling very widely as she looked back up at you.

You smiled too, feeling that blush creep up on to your cheeks from her compliment. It made you want to do nothing more than cuddle up beside her, letting her arms wrap around you, but you also knew you really wanted to finish your work before that could happen. So, you simply placed a kiss on to your girlfriend’s lips and then turned your attention back to your markers.

The spider resting by her hips bones was coloured in an almost total black, baring the small red hourglass you drew on to the back of it. You saw Natasha smiling at it as you worked on the stars that rested on the other side. Then, with confirmation from her, you undid Natasha’s bra to give you access to the tattoo nestled on her sternum. Of course, you took a moment to admire her body for the beauty of what it was, but were much more focused on finishing your design that any other thought that came with Natasha’s bare chest.

The redhead did flinch slightly at the tickle brought by the markers against the delicate parts of her chest, but you simply continued your work, once again humming your little tune as you spread colour across her skin. Leaves became shades of green and flowers turned to purples and blues, all absorbing the ink you carefully drew on to the area.

When you were finally finished, you drew back from where you had been crouched over, sitting up fully on Nat’s hips once more. Your eyes glazed over her body beneath you, her own heavenly beauty now adorned with the brilliance of your handiwork. “Okay,” you said, smiling down widely at your girlfriend. You leaned in to place a quick kiss to her lips before rolling off of her, reaching for her hand. “Come see.”

The redhead let her finger become intertwined with yours as you pulled her up from the bed. The pair of you made your way across the room, coming to a halt in front of the mirror mounted behind the door. Natasha stood by your side as both of you looked at her reflection, eyes dancing over the skin that you had meticulously designed. The previously monochrome picture now was an accumulation of colour, all down to your hard work. You smiled back at the image. Natasha truly did look like a work of art.

“Beautiful,” you breathed, meeting your girlfriend’s eye in the reflection.

She smiled, turning to face you in real time as she reached for your hips, anchoring you closer to her body. “You did such a good job,” she replied, placing a kiss to the top of your forehead. “Thank you, milaya.”

You knew she wasn’t just thanking you for the decoration, but also for the time you’d spent helping her relax after her mission. Natasha’s arms pulled you further in as the two of you embraced in a hug, your head pressed complementary to her chest. For a moment you wondered if the ink on her skin would transfer to you, leaving you with an amalgam of colour blended into to your cheek. But very quickly you also found you didn’t much care. As long as Natasha kept holding you like this, warm in her arms, you would be content of joining her in having inked up skin, even if it did leave you looking a little silly.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff tattoos #tattoos #natasha romanoff fic #✧yana writes

[bibyshitsuji24k]

Chapter 4: Fangs

#smile and lizzy are 2 years older #thats it #or 1 year #idk im tired i drew and write cielizzy not sorry #black butler #kuroshitsuji #ciel phantomhive #elizabeth midford #cielizzy #yana toboso #ciel x lizzy #o!ciel #black butler manga

[dulcemaiden]

The coming conflict between O!Ciel and Snake

In the recent events of Doll coming back to the manga and diverse opinions about which side Snake will choose, there is something I haven't seen anyone consider that can become crucial to this dilemma: The mysterious incident of Snake keeping silent about OCiel sneaking into the tents of the first strings in Noah’s ark circus. Why he did?

The anime played for laughs that it was Wordsworth the one who didn't tell and Emily scolded him.

But in the manga is different, because it was Snake himself. Smile was caught up by Wordsworth, and we all know the rest: Doll found him, grabbed Wordsworth and gave it to Snake telling him to keep the snakes inside his tent (curiously, it's the same snake that Doll caught in F.O.L.)

Actually, Wordsworth told him that precise moment what was really happening, and Snake seemed nervous and trembling, not knowing what to do: Doll was hiding Smile, who had sneaked into the tents of the first strings. He would have done something about the intruder inmediatly, but this time it was Doll who intervined. Unsure of what to do, he walked away and kept silent about the situation.

But when Snake got in his tent, his snakes must have told him how they were tied up in knots by Black, and that Smile went to investigate the tents. Given how alarmingly suspicious the situation was, and how all the first strings could be in a potential danger, he finally decided to tell Joker. When he was asked why he took his time to tell them, he couldn't give a proper answer.

So he only kept silent because of Doll.

If this assumption is correct, the whole dilemma between Snake and OCiel worsens. Unlike the rest of the circus members who irrumpted in Ciel's manor, and Joker who was with Kelvin, Doll was alone at that time, and she was actually the only one who died under OCiel’s command. Snake has seen how skilled is Sebastian when it comes to kill...

So he won't believe that Doll was a real threat to them. Snake is also aware that she hid Smile from him and his snakes, and from the others first strings in an attempt to protect him, but OCiel still took her life, and that won't be a forgivable thing for Snake.

I've read opinions that in hopes that Snake will keep loyal to OCiel and the servants, expects that he will prefer them because unlike the circus troupe who kept him in the dark, he is one of them now. But maybe that would be underestimating how deep Snake's love for Doll might actually be.

She was the first one who reached a hand out to him, and she took care for him back then. His first reaction to see her again was to effusively tackle hug her while crying. We still have to see Snake's flashbacks, but from the little we have seen, Doll is practically the main one in his memories when it comes to the circus troupe.

Maybe there is the possibility that if OCiel explain to Snake about the children's abduction for Kelvin, and how the servants protected themselves and Lizzie, with time Snake will comprehend it, but he still won't comprehend why OCiel spared his life and not Doll's, not after she went out of her way to protect him, because even if Doll tried to kill OCiel later, Snake tried to kill him too.

Even more so, I don't think OCiel will try to justify himself, since he feels guilty about Doll's death.

Back then, when Snake tried to avenge the circus troupe, OCiel had every reason to kill him: Snake had tried to kill OCiel and killed a guest by mistake, he was not innocent and he was a danger. It is hinted that he let Snake live mainly because he reminded him of Doll.

I would like to point out that OCiel is a more empathetic person than most fans give credit for. He is aware that Doll trusted him and genuinely cared for him back then.

And he had to got rid of her, seeing her as a sacrifice. Doll's death was one that deeply traumatized OCiel as we see in his nightmare in ch95.

He probably don't even judge her, as he didn't judge Joker back then, as Yana mentioned in her blog years ago. You can read it in this post traslated by @akumadeenglish.

No matter which way it goes, this conflict will be inevitable, which is really sad for both OCiel and Snake, because they have grown to genuinely care about each other.

And to finish this post, I personally think that out of all the circus troupe, the fact that it was Doll the one who has returned makes sense from a narrative perspective; because she is the central character between Snake and OCiel: Snake let OCiel had his way in the circus because of Doll, and OCiel let Snake live because of Doll.

#I praise yana's writing skills #this will be a very angsty arc #even though I don't want to see snake suffer #I hope the plot finally moves #I don't have my hopes high in regard to snake keeping loyal to ociel #especially after yana's ominous tweet #kuroshitsuji #black butler #blue revenge arc #character analysis #ciel phantomhive #snake #doll

[alastor-simp]

TWST ZODIAC # 7

Don't forget to comment your zodiac and who you got below. Enjoy

Scenario #7 - What Part Of Your Body Does Your Boyfriend Love To Kiss

Your boyfriend is the one from the previous zodiac chapter #6 - Who Becomes Your Boyfriend . Enjoy :)

♈️ Aries: Cheeks and Nose

♉️ Taurus: Ears and Shoulder

♊️ Gemini: Lips, Neck, and Forehead

♋️ Cancer: Neck and Lips

♌️ Leo: Forehead

♍️ Virgo: Shoulder and Forehead

♎️ Libra: Lips and Cheeks

♏️ Scorpio: Lips, Cheeks and Hands

♐️ Sagittarius: Back and Lips

♑️ Capricorn: Lips

♒️ Aquarius: Forehead and Nose

♓️ Pisces: Back, Neck and Lips

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst zodiac book #twst zodiac #twisted wonderland zodiac #zodiac book #horoscope #zodiac signs #kissing #kiss #twst disney #twst kiss #im a simp #twisted wonderland simp #original work #original writing #yana toboso #yana toboso disney

[karmirage]

y'know, it's kind of sad/weird that even tho Dani has the best relationship with her parents of any of the new mutants, neither will nor peg have appeared since like. the 90s

#bring them back. #family side character campaign #<- new tag for me making posts abt character's families lmfao #considering that peg lonestar was an English teacher. Dani probably learned more from her than Xavier #all of the other new mutants either have parents who don't know (yana and doug). asshole parents (rahne and warlock). #their mom is dead and their father is absent (assholery optional) (xuân and amara) #or their father is dead (sam and roberto) (also i could write essays abt nina and Lucinda's vaguely neglectful parenting. some other day) #marvel #dani moonstar/mirage #river rambles #q #actually i don't think peg has appeared since the 80s. will at least was in the reignfire arc briefly iirc

[nrc-counselor]

I honestly believe that one of the reasons why so many people forget about Leona’s actions against Ruggie during his overbolt is because the game itself downplays it. As it occurs, Yana appears to try and make it this terrifying thing  but right after it, it's not taken very seriously at all. Even if he had been healed after it,  Ruggie doesn’t really show any adverse effects to what just happened and continues to go out and play Spell drive, a physically demanding sport, with no problem till Savannahclaw gets their asses handed to them. It also never comes up again. Ever. Which is strange since that is one of two times we see an overbolt victim actively try to physically injure someone close to them outside of their overbolt state (as Leona had not overblotted yet).

#twst analysis #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #savannahclaw #twst chapter 2 #I am a leona Stan but this was bad writing #like come on Yana #chapter 2 sucked as well #it needs to be rewritten #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland leona #I would like to hear other thoughts on this