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janeyseymour · 2 months

Note

Hi, I feel like there’s not enough jealous Melissa fics, so I wanted to request one where reader is a new librarian, and because she dresses really nice Ava immediately takes a liking to her, and Melissa gets jealous because she takes a liking to her too. But obviously at the end Melissa x reader end up together. Can have smut or not, your choice. Thank you!

ask and you shall receive! i hope you enjoy!

Love In the Library

WC: ~3.9k

Your interview at Abbott had gone well- perfect, even. The principal of the school was full of life, and you could tell that you were going to absolutely love it here as librarian. She seemed just as thrilled that you were joining their team- apparently they haven’t had a librarian for a good chunk of time.

You walk into the school on the first day of professional development dressed well- you figured it would be a good idea since Ava dressed so nicely, and you were aware that the students wore their light blue uniforms.

As you enter, you’re greeted by the principal, who tells you that the first meeting of the year will indeed be held in your space, which is entirely fine with you. Hopefully, you’ll be able to meet a few of your coworkers and find the group that you’ll find yourself a part of- that would be nice. First days, even first weeks and months can be daunting, and it’s always a bit easier when you find people who might be in your corner.

You’re seated at your desk and looking over the catalogue of books you have- seeing how you can begin to organize everything (most things weren’t very organized) when the rest of the faculty starts to trickle in. You smile at the few who walk in first, but it immediately becomes a bit overwhelming when more and more people start to make their way in. You find yourself to be grateful that you have your own assigned spot at your desk. They all converse and catch up on what they had done over their summers, and you don’t really know how to insert yourself into any of those conversations, so you just look around and try to find anybody who might be kind to you.

As you’re people watching, a small group of teachers come in. In that group is a short younger woman, a taller black man conversing with a slightly shorter white man, and two teachers who are clearly veterans. The one is absolutely captivating with her pleather pants, heeled doc martens, and the way that her hair is curled softly and falls over her shoulders beautifully. The light pink shirt that she wears compliments her hair beautifully. You catch her take a glance over at you, and you feel a shiver run through your body as her emerald green eyes sparkle in your direction. She’s absolutely gorgeous.

It looks as though she’s going to make her way over to you, but Ava cuts her off by entering the room in what you can always assume is true Ava fashion, what with the mixed groans from the rest of the staff. You stay seated at your desk and watch as the redhead takes a seat at the front table with her friends. Her eyes linger on you though throughout most of the meeting- you can feel her staring at you.

You snap out of your trance when you hear your name come out of the principal’s mouth. You blush bright red, but you give a gentle wave of your hand.

Ava really hypes you up, explaining that you’re the best thing that’s come around to Abbott in quite a long time- that you’re a bad bitch with good fashion, fashion that almost competes with hers.

You see the way that the redhead rolls her eyes at that comment before looking you up and down.

The meeting drones on for a while longer before the staff is able to participate in a few different seminars or set up their classrooms.

You have your head down as everyone mills around, mingling and heading out. That is until you see a hand on your desk. When you glance up, there are those striking green eyes that were staring at you through the entirety of the meeting.

“Hi?” you squeak out.

“You the new librarian?” the redhead asks.

You nod and swallow before introducing yourself, although you know she already knows your name. “And you?” you ask politely.

“Melissa Schemmenti, second grade teacher,” she tells you, and you shake her hand firmly. “I’m gonna need one of the copies of the book, The Name Jar.”

You nod and smile. “I can definitely find that for you. It’s for a beginning of the year lesson, I assume?”

“It is,” she says shortly.

“I’ll have it for you by the end of the day.”

“Thank you,” the second grade teacher smiles at you.

You’re able to locate the book relatively easily, and with a bit of exploring the school, you’re able to find the classroom that has her name on it. She’s in the process of writing out name tags for her students and putting them at the desks when you knock on the door gently.

She glances up at you before pushing her glasses up and off her face, resting them on the top of her head.

“Just dropping off the book you requested,” you say softly. “Is there anywhere specific you want me to put it?”

She stands up straight, rights her shirt, and gives you a genuine smile. You love to see that smile of hers.

“I can take it,” she says softly, and she makes her way over to you. Her hand brushes yours for about half of a second before she actually takes the book from out of your hands, and you swear you feel a rush of electricity between the two of you. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” you smile right back, and she immediately wants to always see that beaming look on your face. “If you need any other books, let me know. I’m going to try to have the library organized by the end of September.”

When you go to get your lunch, the redhead is there, and so is your boss.

“There’s our sexy new librarian,” Ava winks at you. You turn bright red. You know you’re… not the ugliest women in the world, but this is a lot. “Girl, don’t act like you don’t know you look like a Philly eleven in that sexy dress of yours.”

You chuckle nervously as you glance down at the dress you were done up in. You look at the other teachers, and maybe you were a bit overdressed. “Have a nice lunch, guys,” you say as you go to head back to your room.

“I ain’t stayin’ in here to listen to your boring teacher talk,” Ava sighs dramatically. “But I’ll see you all later, losers!” She winks at you again, and you can feel the blush that had begun to diminish come back in full force.

“Oi,” you hear Melissa call out as you’re at the threshold of the door. “Come eat lunch with us.”

You don’t notice the strange looks that your coworkers give the second grade teacher, but you smile softly.

“Really?” Janine asks, jaw dropped.

“Oh, it’s… okay,” you say softly. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“You ain’t intruding,” the second grade teacher is adamant, so you sit down next to her.

Barbara looks confused, but she doesn’t say anything at all. The teachers take their time getting to know you, and Melissa’s eyes find yours quite a few times, giving you reassuring looks and smiles.

You head out a few minutes before everyone else, and once you’re gone, Melissa’s friends look at her like she’s got three heads.

“What?” the redhead asks as she sips her iced tea.

“When did you get all friendly to newbies?” Barbara asks.

“Seriously,” Gregory puts in. “When I first started, you refused to learn my name for the first month I was here.”

The second grade teacher rolls her eyes. “And look where we are now… might as well give it a shot being nice to the newcomers.”

Barbara eyes her warily, but she doesn’t say anything in front of the full group. When the two of them are walking out though, they see you.

You wave quietly as you stack your things into your car to continue working on your organization, and the gorgeous teacher waves back with a smile.

You climb into your car, pull on your sunglasses, and head out.

“Girl, you like her,” Barbara nudges hr best friend.

Melissa rolls those green eyes of her. “Yeah. I’m the queen of England too.”

The kindergarten teacher hums, and while she doesn’t say anything, she knows that her work wife has a thing for you. It’s clear in her eyes and the way that she invited you in so sweetly.

“Well, maybe this will be good,” Barb states. “We have a new librarian, she seems like a sweet girl, and Ava isn’t making fun of her.”

“No,” the redhead frowns. “She’s flirting with her instead.”

“That a problem for you?”

“Shut up. I’ll see you tomorrow,” the redhead rolls her eyes as she climbs into her car.

The next few days of development go the same for you, organizing the many books, going through the catalogue to see what books you might be able to add to the collection

(whether that be from home or you can try to scrounge up the money to buy them at a thrift store). Melissa often appears in the library, claiming to look for a book, but most of the time she just ends up chatting with you- you don’t mind one bit. You sit with them at lunch, and you quite enjoy getting to hear Melissa laugh and listen to her talk.

Ava still flirts with you everyday, and while her compliments are appreciated, you never fail to turn as red as a tomato.

When the kids start to come into the school the following week, a few of the older ones are shocked to actually have a librarian. Furthermore, they can’t believe that they’ll actually have library as a special.

You begin to learn the children, and they absolutely adore you. You have quickly become one of the kids’ favorite teachers. In the first month alone, you’ve been given a ream of papers’ worth of drawings- it melts your heart. The older ones come and talk to you in the mornings before they actually have to head to class, and the little ones flock to you for hugs whenever they can. It’s safe to say you love being here at Abbott with these kids.

It’s also safe to say that you like most of the staff that you’re with, although you’ve found yourself a part of a certain group; one with the most attractive teacher in the school: Melissa Schemmenti.

You find yourself being drawn to her presence, and she’s drawn to you too. You spend your time with her and Barbara as often as possible, more than happy to listen to whatever the two of them are up to.

But with being friends with them also brings Ava around quite a bit. She is constantly looking for the two of them for advice on how to discipline and run the school. It also gives her an excuse to come flirt with you. Her comments are starting to get more and more scandalous, and she’s practically taking off your clothes with her eyes any time she’s talking to the three of you. You notice the way that the redhead seated next to you almost always scowls.

You almost wonder if you should go to HR for her looks and words.

“Melissa,” Barbara singsongs as the two of them are leaving lunch that day. Ava had come in and shamelessly flirted with you. “Turn that frown upside down!”

“I ain’t in a mood, Barb,” the second grade teacher grumbles.

“That face says otherwise,” the kindergarten teacher clicks her tongue. “When are you just going to admit the fact that you hate that Ava flirts with Y/N because you like her?!”

“I do not,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “I just think Ava needs to stop eye-fucking her anytime she sees her.”

“While I agree with that,” Barb sighs. “No one gets nearly as upset with that as you do, and I think it’s because you genuinely do have feelings for her.”

Melissa bites her lip. “So what if I do? It don’t matter. She’s young, I’m me. And we’re coworkers.”

“Being her boss isn’t stopping Ava from flirting with her,” Barbara points out. “C’mon. Just give it some thought.’

The redhead groans. She knows her best friend knows about her little crush on you now.

The next day, Barbara waltzes into Ava’s office.

“Girl, I wouldn’t usually condone this, but you need to continue to flirt with Y/N as much as possible.”

“That won’t be hard,” the principal laughs. “She’s a fine piece of ass. But why?”

“Melissa has a huge thing for Y/N, and I can just tell that our little librarian has a thing for Melissa too. You know the best way to get her to confess her feelings is to make her so jealous she can’t bite her tongue any longer.”

“Damn, you don’t think I got a shot?”

“Ava,” Barbara rubs her temples. “Might I remind you that you are in a relationship.”

“And?”

“Ava!”

“What?” Ava raises her brows. “You think I don’t want to-”

“You know what? Nevermind,” the kindergarten teacher goes to turn on her heels.

“Wait!” Ava calls. “But you really don’t think I have a chance?”

“What I think is that Y/N is a respectful, young woman who would not want to… partake in the activities that you are alluding to.”

“You never know,” the principal shrugs. “What’s in it for me?”

“A nice bottle of wine, and I’ll go out to the club with you the next time you tell us we’re all getting together for dinner but inevitably end up going somewhere else.”

“Oh, hell yeah. But I get to pick the bottle.”

“Only if my plan works, and Melissa and Y/N get their heads out of their asses and date.”

“You have yourself a deal, Barb,” the principal grins before going back to scrolling through Instagram.

Ava’s flirting only gets worse from here, and she purposely does it in front of Melissa whenever she gets the chance. While Barb is naturally appalled at the things that the principal is saying to you, she knows its worth it when she can practically see the steam pouring out of her work wife’s ears.

It’s picture day at school, and you know you’re going to be forced to get your picture taken as much as you don’t want to. So, you apply some light makeup and dress yourself in a white body suit and a flowered skirt that has a rather high slit up the side. It shows off some skin, but you know that you can always adjust the skirt if necessary so it’s not too revealing.

That was a mistake though- or at least you think it is when Ava starts commenting about you having a body that ‘challenges Beyoncé’. Her eyes linger on your still sun kissed thighs as you make your way into the building. You thank her for her compliment, but you don’t play into it any further than that. You make your way to the break room to drop off your lunch and make yourself another cup of coffee when you run into the redhead.

She looks absolutely stunning. Melissa really hasn’t done anything special for picture day- she just always looks gorgeous to you.

“Hey, good morning,” you say as you fall into step with her. Her eyes rake you up and down, and you feel a blush creep into your cheeks when she subconsciously licks her lips.

The two of you walk into the break room together and are sipping your coffees when the principal comes in again.

She makes an absolutely obscene comment about you and the way that your chest is comparable to that of the redhead’s, despite the fact that you hardly have any cleavage showing. That makes Melissa almost as red as her hair, but she puffs out her own chest. But then… she says something about the slit in your skirt and something about it looks stunning on you, but it would look better on her bedroom floor with her boyfriend.

At that comment, you suck a deep breath in and try to cover how embarrassed your feeling.

“Ava!” Barbara nearly shouts.

“Well,” the principal shrugs at the deafening silence in the room. “I have to go do principal things, y’all.”

As Ava leaves the room, the kindergarten teacher gives Ava a look, but it’s almost a mildly impressed look.

You can’t look at anyone, so you practically rush out of the room with your coffee.

At your sudden exit, Melissa looks furious. “I have to go do some work.” She storms off, and out of the room in order to go yell at her boss for embarrassing you in front of everyone.

“I should check on Y/N,” Barbara says softly before following your direction. She knows that those comments made you more uncomfortable than any of her others, and she knows she has to stop you from making a complaint to the HR department about the conversation that just took place.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Barb says softly as she enters the library.

Your hands are in your head, and the red in your cheeks hasn’t disappeared in the slightest.

“H-hey,” you mumble.

“Don’t mind Ava,” she tells you softly. “She used to say stuff like that to Gregory all the time, and eventually she’ll move on to someone else.”

“Does she always do this? Shouldn’t she get into trouble for that?” you ask quietly.

The kindergarten teacher waves a hand. “Our HR department never does anything but bounce the emails back to the principal of the person who sent them… the last time someone did that, we had a ‘bonding session’ because Janine emailed them. It’s not even worth your time.”

“But… that was…”

“A lot,” Barbara sets a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I know. But trust me on this one: it isn’t worth it. And she likes you, so she’ll be willing to help you out when you need it. If you report her, she’ll only make your life that much harder. Just let her flirting die out, honey.”

You frown. “I guess… I need this job.”

“I know.”

“And I love this job.”

“We love having you here,” the older teacher squeezes your shoulder gently. “And the kids- they absolutely adore you. We hope you’ll decide to stay with us for a long time.”

“Y-yeah.”

“Are you okay other than all of that?”

“Yeah,” you say softly. “Thanks for checking on me.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Barbara smiles at you charmingly.

She exits, and you sigh. You should probably talk to your boss about the things that she says to and about you… how it makes you uncomfortable. So, with your head down and cheeks still burning, you make your way down to the office. You stop just short of the principal’s when you hear a familiar voice shouting at the woman you were going to talk to.

“Ava!” the redhead storms into the office. “What the fuck?!”

The principal laughs. “What, girl?”

“What the hell was that? The shit you were sayin’ to Y/N in the break room? I know you usually say stuff you shouldn’t, but God dammit, that was over the line!”

“And? Why do you care so much?” Ava asks nonchalantly. “You jealous?”

“Jealous?” Melissa glares, looking utterly confused. “Why the hell would I be jealous of saying absolutely deplorable things to the sweet girl? Why on God’s green Earth would I be jealous of saying the absolute truth that she’s hot as hell?”

Ava smirks. “You think she’s hot?”

Fuck. Melissa’s been caught.

“You think Y/N’s hot?” Ava grins.

“No!” the redhead rolls her eyes. “I just don’t think you should be sayin’ shit like that to her!”

“You think she’s hot!” the principal singsongs. “Girl, just admit it!”

“Okay,” the redhead sighs. “If I admit that I think she’s hot, you can’t keep saying stuff about her like this.”

“Say it,” Ava teases.

“Ava,” Melissa groans.

“Say it!”

“Okay,” the second grade teacher huffs. “I think she’s hot. I like her, and not just for her looks. Now stop talking to her and about her the way that you have been.”

“Girl,” Ava grins. “You want me to flirt with her for you?”

“No,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “If and when I decide to make a move on her, I can do it on my own terms. Remember, I am a Philly eleven.”

With that, she turns on her heel and exits the office… only to bump into you.

Your eyes are wide, your cheeks and ears are burning, and… did she just admit she thinks you’re hot? The woman that you’ve developed a small crush on actually has a thing for you too?

“Shit.”

“Uh…” you nervously tuck a loose hair behind your ear.

“How much of that did you hear?” she asks you quietly.

“I uh, have to talk to Ava,” you evade her question.

You don’t give Melissa a chance to say anything else before you knock on the door and enter before closing it behind you.

By the time you’re finished with your conversation with Ava, you barely have time to run down to the library before you know the kiddos will start trickling in… and you’re not entirely sure you even know how to approach the situation you’ve found yourself in with the redheaded teacher.

That’ll have to wait.

But when you get to the library doors, Melissa is standing there waiting for you. She looks incredibly nervous as she taps her foot.

“Melissa,” you say softly.

She just takes your hand and pulls you into the library before taking you to your desk- which remains just out of sight from the door.

“Shouldn’t you be in your classroom to wait for your kids?”

“I got Janine to watch them for arrival,” she tells you. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough,” you say softly. “You are a Philly eleven, you know.”

And then you press your lips gently to hers. She kisses you back just as softly, and you can’t help but pull her in a bit closer.

But then you have to pull away. You know the older kids that come to your room will be there far too quickly, and you really don’t want them to catch you kissing their old second grade teacher.

“Y/N,” Melissa whispers.

“Go back to your classroom,” you say softly. “The kids that come to me in the morning will be here soon, and I don’t need rumors about the two of us going around.”

“Yeah,” the redhead agrees. “That probably wouldn’t be too great.”

You hum.

“So…” she says quietly though. “I’ll see you at my house tonight for dinner?”

You nod.

“It’s a date,” she promises as she squeezes your hand gently. With those words, she leaves your room just as one of your kiddos is coming in.

“Hey, Serena,” you smile softly. You immediately turn on your warm teacher voice, and Melissa can’t help but turn around and watch as the student comes over and embraces you.

The sunlight through the window hits you perfectly, and you look angelic.

While Melissa had initially taken a liking to you because of your looks (you might just be a Philly twelve), the heart of gold that you have is what made her really fall for you.

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary

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4izawas · 6 months

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╰─▸ ❝ 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒! ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐬. 𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “If I see that stupid bitch touch you again, I’ll kill her,” you growl, then yelp when he suddenly flips you, your chest and cheek against brick and his chest to your back. // “If she ever pulls that shit again, I’ll let you.”

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: my hero academia | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: shouta aizawa/f!reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 9.30k.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: age gap, previously established relationship, jealousy, canon typical harrassment, heavy miss joke bashing, death threats, fem reader, villain reader, possessive reader, reader is just a bad person chat idk what else u want me to say, discussions of trauma ( but aizawa refuses to call it that ), morally ambiguous aizawa, ngl he’s also not a great person but he’s hot so it’s okay, villain/hero, femdom, maledom, teasing, biting, nipple sucking, oral sex, slight choking, switch reader, switch aizawa, dacryphilia, fingering, pussy slapping, tit slapping, spitting, creampies, daddy kink, marking, hickeys, also a cat, tko = tofu knockout, class 1-a are little shits.

𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: kinktober fourrrr !! hnngggg aizawa is always a must <33 and ngl? fucking hate miss joke so we gon bash <3

— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!

“C’mon, Eraser, just one date! Just one!”

“No means no, Joke — we’re in the middle of a fucking job, so leave me alone and do your part,” Shouta mutters just loud enough flr her to hear with nothing short of sheer annoyance in his voice as he overlooks the streets and back alleys surrounding a building in east Fukuoka just past midnight that night. The Smile Hero, Miss Joke, stood at his right shoulder; due to a necessary team up at the request of the Commission upon Hawks’ request for backup to assist in breaking up a newly discovered human trafficking ring, the duo were paired up and sent to the rooftops for out-of-sight assistance, where Eraserhead could use his quirk without the risk of interruption as the team below entered the building.

Well. Almost without that risk.

“Oh, don’t be that way, Eraser, at this point us meeting up all the time’s gotta be fate!” she laughs quietly, grinning brightly at him. He grumbles a little to himself, but doesn’t turn away from where he was glancing around below for any threats that could potentially fall upon the strike team moving through the halls of the building, their locations revealed by the large windows.

More of Joke’s chatter drones on in his ears, and Shouta fights off the annoyed growl that threatened to escape him; why couldn’t it have been Hizashi he was paired with so he’d have backup? At least Hizashi knew how to be quiet and professional, what with his hero persona just being a face for the public — and it wasn’t as if Miss Joke didn’t know how to do her job, she actually did it very well, she just ceased to properly function whenever he was a part of the picture for some reason. Hizashi and Nemuri had both thought it was funny at first, but that was years ago, before it had become an actual problem.

Shouta tenses up when an overly-familiar hand squeezes his shoulder, and he grits his teeth. “Stop touching me,” he snaps lowly. “For God’s sake, Joke, be fucking professional.”

Miss Joke sighs. “I never see you outside of the rare team up for work, Eraser, what do you expect?”

“I expect you to keep your hands to yourself and for you to do your job,” he says coldly, shaking off her hand. She sighs again, this time in a more dramatic way.

“Nothing’s gonna happen up here!” She mutters, “We’ve been up here for an hour. They aren’t going to patrol this area, and if they weren’t we should have moved.”

“This is the best vantage point for me to see as much of the building as possible,” he replies, silently relieved that she’s actually discussing the job and not some aspect of his body.

A groan follows his words, and then a startled curse. He turns in time to catch sight of her grappling with a much larger man with a fly mutation quirk, something he couldn’t cancel. Spitting out a curse of his own under his breath, he leaps into the fray to help as three more men starm the roof. “Neither of you should be up here!” One snarls. “This is private property — you’re trespassing.”

“Shut up,” is all Shouta says, and the fight starts. He leaves Joke to the man with the fly quirk and takes on two of the three other men, the third standing back and watching as Shouta doles out his fair share of bruises while receiving plenty of his own. Once he’s almost completely handled his pair, he sees the third guy make his move from the corner of his eye, his musculature growing as he activates his quirk. Activating his own, Shouta turns his body to brace for the impending impact that would come with the guy jumping at him. A low grunt escapes him as the air is knocked out of him, and as he locks eyes with his new opponent he distantly hears Joke let out an angry shriek after likely taking a particularly harsh hit. One of the guys Shouta had been fighting had abandoned him to go join the fly guy in fighting Joke, so she likely had her own hands full and wouldn’t be able to help in any way — not that he needed it. The only really talented fighter out of the four enemies on the roof was the last man to join the fray, and Shouta could handle him. With a few skillful throws of his capture weapon, Shouta’s more or less finished up his end of the fight.

A sharp cry from Miss Joke practically yanks his attention from his opponent so he can look at her, and he finds her on her back against the roof with one of the men with their thick hands around her throat; she’s clearly struggling to breathe. The other man is unconscious, but unbound. A tiny shot of worry races through Shouta’s veins.

The brief moment that he’d looked away was more than enough for the unnamed enemy to re-engage his strength quirk, and the man burst from the slightly loosened confines of Shouta’s scarf, throwing his entire weight at him. With a surprised shout, he’s thrown faster than he’d expected over to Joke. The man on top of her leaps to the side just before Shouta slams into her, and for a moment the world turns end over end before they’re falling from the roof of the ten story building.

It takes a second for Shouta to right himself, but before they hit the ground he’s able to wrap one arm around Joke while the other throws his scarf at an overhang on the building he’d been scoping. It catches as intended and they drop to the ground safely, Shouta stumbling a little with the added weight of Joke clinging to him. He can hear the men on the roof opposite them snarling angrily, fixing themselves up and shouting threats against their lives. While they do, the team that had rushed into the building begins filing out, handcuffed traffickers in hand and victims being led out by a few officers. The shouting on the roof silences almost immediately.

“You alright, Eraser?” It’s Hawks that asks after appearing over his left shoulder with a bound, angry looking man in hand and dangling as the massive red wings on the pro hero beat against the air; the Number Two tilts his head to the side slightly in curiosity while his golden eyes flash in concern as he asks.

“On the roof,” is all Shouta says, getting straight to the point. “Four men, all working for the ring inside.” Hawks’ pupils narrow to sharp slits, and a dozen feathers zip into the air and over to the roof Shouta had nodded his head towards. Loud yelling and shouts fill the air, followed by shrieks as the feathers binding the men bring them down to the ground. They’re quickly apprehended by the police force assisting the pros in the bust, and all at once the entire event is over. The human trafficking ring that Shouta himself had been focused on bringing down for nearly four years now was destroyed, and all current victims were safe.

He wishes he could sigh in relief, but there’s an annoying weight on his shoulder.

“Get off of me, Joke, the danger’s over and this is incredibly unprofessional,” he growls, noticing the way people were staring; he rubs at his eyes to soothe the ever-present burning that came with his quirk use, especially now after the USJ incident; the scar on his face aches at the memory.

“But something could happen!” Miss Joke exclaims, clinging tighter to him and looking up at him like what he’d said was crazy. “More could be waiting — and I haven’t even gotten to make you laugh yet or agree to that date.”

“You won’t get to do either, now get the fuck off of me!” He snarls, practically tearing her from his side and stepping away. She looks hurt, but he can’t bring himself to care. He was done being nice — clearly it wasn’t working.

“But Aizawa—!” she starts to whine, but he cuts her off.

“It’s Eraserhead. You have no right to call me anything else.” With that he storms off, disappearing into the darkness of a nearby alley before making his way through the shadows. All he can think about is the shower waiting for him when he gets home and how filthy he felt having Joke’s hands on his chest and shoulders. It’s why he’s taken by surprise when a heavy figure pushes him into the wall and binds his hands with his own weapon.

Instinctively he struggles, snarling out a quick threat before the familiar scent of a perfume he’d bought himself reaches his nose, and he relaxes.

“Evening, Eraserhead,” you murmur lowly, eyes narrowed in displeasure as you look over him, and inwardly he groans. Judging from the tone of your voice, you’d seen all of Joke’s behavior, but had heard none of what he’d said. You had to have been out of range.

It didn’t surprise him; Shouta knew you were fond of keeping a watchful eye over him or Hizashi or Nemuri whenever on of them was on a mission like this. You’d have accompanied any of them, Shouta especially ( and tonight of all night most definitely ), but that would have been a foolish decision on your part and everyone who knew you personally would not have been pleased with any possible outcome that followed.

A known villain like yourself would have been swiftly arrested by any police officer or pro hero that didn’t know your civilian identity — and only the three aforementioned people did.

“It isn’t what you think,” he says tiredly, and a bitter laugh escapes you. Shouta winces; you were hurt.

“Isn’t that what they all say?” you ask coldly, and Shouta does not reply. He’s too busy staring at the slight tremble in your chin and the way your eyes are getting slightly wetter.

God. Joke really did have to fuck up everything.

He sighs. “I mean it. It isn’t what it looked like.” You look at him, pondering the denial; Shouta wasn’t a liar. Not once throughout the years you’d known him had he lied to you, even when he’d been after you to arrest you before the two of you had started dating.

Fine.

You narrow your eyes. “Talk.”

So he does. He admits to the harassment, to Joke ignoring boundaries and not caring about how many times he’s requested she leave him be. He talks and explains and confesses to things he’d kept secret from you for years, and it takes over half an hour. Over the course of his explanations, the grip you’d had on him goes from a deadly one to one so loose he can barely feel it. The spots would bruise, but he’d wear them with pride as he did any other marks you gave him; you’d not meant to hurt him, and he’d be damned if he let you get into your head about how tight your grip had been.

By the time he’s finished, you’re shaking — not from the cold, he knows, but from ill-concealed rage.

“So you’re telling me that you told her to get off of you and to stop touching… and she didn’t?” Your face has been swiftly schooled into an impassive blank canvas, a look he hasn’t seen in years and therefore can no longer read. Hesitantly, he nods, and your eyes flash with an anger he’d not seen since Nemuri was kidnapped by a sex trafficking ring three years back. “And this has been going on for years, but you haven’t told me until now because you thought it would strain the relationship.” Another nod. Your eyes narrow. “Noted. She’ll be on the news tonight.”

You release him from his binds and disappear, scaling the wall and racing across the rooftop. Shouta barely has time to think, but he doesn’t have to in order to follow you, quickly catching you and standing in your way of getting to Joke’s usual patrol route.

“No, you can’t kill her. Not tonight,” he says warningly, and you look angry.

“You told her to stop and she didn’t. You've told her to stop for years. She doesn’t listen, and she thinks it’s okay. Heroes won’t ever do anything, Shouta, you know that.” The venomous tone you’re sporting is unmatched, and if Shouta hadn’t known you as well as he does, he’d think it was aimed at him; thankfully he’s known you for years. That being said, he did know that, and honestly it stung a little.

“I can handle it tonight.” The poison in your voice has transformed into the thickest, most sweet honey as you tempt him. Your eyes are soft, your gaze gooey and only possibly described as sticky sweet. “It could all be over, baby — she’d never bother you again.”

It’s tempting. More tempting than a pro hero should ever allow — but Shouta’s never been the kind of man to balk in the face of the wicked and condemn them for their actions without thought. He was not a good man, and he doubted there ever was one — he was kind, he was wise, and he was gentle when required, but if he was as good as society deemed the word, he would have turned you in five years ago when the two of you met and he’d captured you after you’d murdered three men. Instead he’d been attracted to you, and a game of cat and mouse had started between the two of you that only ended when he’d caught you again and taken you in an alleyway.

“That’s wrong,” he murmurs, hands shaky as his heart rate quickens; god, you were so fucking sexy when you promised to murder for him.

“I never implied that it was right,” you admit casually. For a moment silence stretches out between the two of you, Shouta once again pondering the offer you’d made, then he shakes his head again.

“No. Not tonight. I don’t feel like scrubbing blood out of the bathroom again,” he says tiredly, and you pout.

“It’s never usually mine,” you grouse, crossing your arms and turning to look away.

“And you know how happy that makes me,” he replies warmly, “But I want to be able to hold you and go to sleep tonight without the looming pressure of scrubbing the bathroom in the morning; you know how Hizashi is with blood, and he wanted to go out for breakfast tomorrow before work.”

You let out a wordless grumble, still not looking at him. He searches what parts of your face he can see with the angle you’re turned, and jumps a little when you look at him with nothing but promises of death in your eyes as he lets you push him against the wall again. “If I see that stupid bitch touch you again, I’ll kill her,” you growl, then yelp when he suddenly flips you, your chest and cheek against brick and his chest to your back.

“If she ever pulls that shit again, I’ll let you,” he promises while pressing slow kisses along your bare skin, biting at your neck and drawing a whimper from your lips. He grins against you. “Go back to the apartment and let me finish my patrol so I can get the hell home and fuck your dumb little brains out, kitten.” A shaky moan falls from your lips and you push your ass back against him.

“Or you could just fuck me here?” you offer hopefully, your eyes glittering darkly with a newfound interest he knows all too well. “Please Daddy, I’m so wet for you-” A sharp smack to your ass makes you cry out.

“You fuckin’ heard me, brat — go home.”

With a growled huff, you tug yourself free from his grip, still pouting. Shouta raises an eyebrow; your next move was yours to make. Would you defy him and go after Joke, or would you listen and go home? Either decision would be preferable, and if he was honest he wouldn’t mind you doing what you pleased to Joke tonight as long as you didn’t track blood into the apartment, but why would he admit that now?

You huff again, and promptly disappear into the inky blackness — away from the direction of Joke’s patrol route, and Shouta barely fights off an amused chuckle.

You always were such a good girl for him.

When Shouta finally gets home at half past four, the apartment is dark. He can smell the scent of food from his favorite takeout place, though the initial strength of it is soft and faded, and the soft hum of the television in the bedroom keys him in on where you’ve retreated to. Toeing off his boots, he wanders into the bedroom, rubbing at the back of his neck as he takes in the sight of you curled up in the bed you shared with him, surrounded by pillows with the little grey cat you and he had taken off the streets curled up in your lap, dozing. Shouta sighs; as calm as he was now, Shouta knew damn well the little monster you’d for some reason named Tofu was going to slap him for no fucking reason later, so he thanked whoever was listening that the little guy was napping right now so he could take a break and wash off all the filth from tonight’s bust and patrol.

He wanders into the bathroom, stripping down to the clothes he wore beneath his hero uniform and kicking the black mass of cloth towards the laundry hamper; the urge to piss was far greater than any need to pick them up off the floor right away.

After finishing up, he hops into the shower, eager to rid himself of the grime he’d collected overnight, and once he’s done he makes his way back into the bedroom, lazily toweling himself dry before moving to the dressed to pull out a pair of sweatpants.

“What are you watching?” he asks you quietly as he puts them on, and you shrug.

“I don’t know,” you reply, and he raises an eyebrow.

“You don’t know?”

“No, I haven’t been paying much attention,” you admit quietly, gently playing with Tofu’s tail; he keeps dozing, unbothered. “I’ve had a lot to think about.”

Suddenly the warmth Shouta had felt like he’d sucked in from the shower disappeared, leaving him cold and nervous. You’d had several hours to think about everything he’d told you, and he worried that you were mad at him now. Admittedly he’d technically lied for a long time, keeping secrets from you and not telling you how he felt about Joke for years, so he really couldn’t blame you for being upset with him, even just a little ( or a lot ). The only comfort was that you were still here — because Shouta knew you. If you were going to leave him, you wouldn’t have been in the apartment when he’d returned. Just like you’d first entered it all those years ago, so would you leave it should you choose to abandon the relationship: quickly, silently, and without any reasons to raise suspicion.

Thinking about it, Shouta didn’t even know if you’d take Tofu if the two of you separated. How would that work?

“We aren’t separating, and I’m not leaving you,” you say tiredly, and Shouta fights off the urge to kick himself; he’d spoken out loud without meaning to.

You sigh. “That being said, I do want to know why you didn’t tell me.” Shouta tries to repeat what he’d told you, but you look away. “The truth, Shouta. Not the excuse you made before.”

Silence.

It takes a moment, but finally Shouta just drifts to the bed and sits down on his side with his back to you, looking down at his hands. “Shame,” he finally whispers, and you look at him with a confused gaze. “I just… how could I admit that I couldn’t get her to stop when I’m a pro hero?” Your eyes turn soft and understanding, and he continues in a tone of disgust, refusing to look at you. “I feel so weak. I’m a grown man and I couldn’t fucking stop her — I can’t stop her. I already know the next time we cross paths she’ll be the same. Nothing will change, and I’ll always be… stuck.”

A second silence overtakes you both. You say nothing, only watching the way his shoulders have a slight tremble, before moving Tofu and kicking back the thick layers of blankets, crawling on your hands and knees over to him. He doesn’t look up at you, still staring at his own hands as you cup his head in yours and move his head up so you can see his face.

He still doesn’t lock eyes with you.

“Shouta,” you murmur softly. “Look at me.” He makes no attempt to move. “Please?” He does as asked, and you smile softly. “There’s that handsome face,” you murmur, your voice as warm as his morning coffee, and he scoffs.

“Don’t coddle me,” he mutters, and you grin, not missing the way his lips quirk up in a soft, blatantly fond smile.

“If I don’t, who will?” you ask teasingly, and his tiny smile widens ever so slightly. You grab one of his hands in yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles as you sit back on your calves, and your sweet smile twists. “Besides, haven’t I made it obvious to you? You’re mine. Nothing’s gonna change that, Sho, and no one is going to be able to take you away from me.” A murderous gleam flickers in your eyes, and Shouta finally looks up at you just in time to catch it.

His shoulders droop as he relaxes, his muscles losing the tension he’d built up tonight. Somehow, despite the very clear ( though unvoiced ) notion of just what you could and would do if someone tried to take him from you would normally frighten someone else, he felt at ease.

His eyes close and he relaxes into your touch as you creep close again, this time straddling his thighs while holding him close; he lets his head fall to rest on your chest, and he sighs from the comfort. “Do I need to spell it out?” You whisper softly to him as you lean down to press an open-mouthed kiss to his stubbled jaw, your hands roaming over his shoulders in a way that has him tensing up for an entirely different reason.

“Maybe — Maybe you do,” he whispers shakily, tilting his head just enough for you to get to that special, ever-so-sensitive spot that you knew had his cock twitching. You laugh softly, your teeth lightly scratching along his heated skin, and he shakes a little as he fights off the urge to move.

You gently push him back to rest against the stack of pillows you kept on the bed, and his head falls back in pleasure as you purr out a warm, gooey, “M…” against the base of his throat. Laving your tongue across the skin there, you feel him swallow hard, and you laugh lowly again, your voice thick and sweet like syrup as you continue with a simple, “I…” before moving down to his chest. From the corner of your eye you see one of his hands fist in the sheets, and you fight off yet another chuckle as you slip your way down his body before stopping at your next target: one of his dark, hardened nipples. You don’t hesitate to take it into your mouth, your hot tongue circling the sensitive flesh in a way that has his upper body trembling. It presses hard into the soft, wet pad of your tongue, and the breathy sighs falling from his lips as you lavish it in attention while twisting the other amuse you. Grinning slightly, you take it between your front teeth and tug at it a bit, relishing the sharp whine and stuttered moan he lets out from the feeling; his chest had always been so sensitive. “N,” you say, drifting down yet again. Your fingernails dig ever so slightly into his skin and follow the rest of your body down, scratching across his sensitive nipples and leaving him whimpering louder than before. You finally still before your prize, thick and heavy and hard and hidden from you, and you breathe out a wanting, “E…” as you curl your fingers around the waistband of his sweatpants and pull them down slowly to reveal the tip of his dripping cock.

Eyes glittering eagerly, you draw his sweatpants down further, releasing the rest of his length as well as his balls, and you gaze at the way it bobs up to slap against the skin of his stomach. His balls are fat and heavy, and you swallow the drool that’s accumulated in your mouth before taking his cock in one hand, slightly turning your head to the side, and tracing a thick line from his balls to his drooling tip with your tongue. A choked noise is ripped from his throat, and you press your tongue against the sensitive spot under his head and lap at it softly before purring a pleased, “Mine.”

It takes a moment, but as his thighs tremble around your head and his breathing gets heavier and heavier, Shouta finally manages to reply. “Yours,” he whispers, and your grin turns wicked with anticipation.

“Yeah, you’re all mine,” you murmur to yourself before taking his cock into your mouth again, this time sucking lazily at the tip until Shouta’s shaking. Looking up at his messy figure above you, you soak in the picture of his heavy breathing and his squeezed-shut eyes as he falls to pieces beneath your touch. Splaying out your fingers, you run your hands across his thighs as you work your way down to the thick, dark curls around the base of his cock. Your fingernails scratch at his sensitive skin, and his thighs quake as you finally fully nestle his cock in your throat, your nose buried in his pubes. He’s clean, as always, and he’s used your favorite body wash; Shouta lets out low noises of pleasure as you slowly begin to bob your head along his length, sending it down your throat then pulling off it all over again until he’s sitting up, his stomach rolling ever so slightly as he stares down at you while panting.

“Fu-uck, wait, I-!” he moans, instinctively bucking up into your mouth. You laugh a little around him while languidly sucking at his cock, and he groans deep and hard from the feeling of the vibrations before fisting his hand around your throat and tugging you up. “Y’gotta — Y’gotta stop, I’ll cum,” he grunts, holding you up by your neck. You use one thumb to swipe at a smear of pre on your cheek before sticking it in your mouth to suck it clean.

“That’s the point, Sho,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I want it.”

“And you’ll get it,” he replies with a growl before yanking you up so you’re laying on top of him before rolling you over onto your back with him hovering over you. “Only you’ll be taking it in this tight cunt of yours, so I hope you’re ready.”

He watches the way your pupils blow ever so slightly, and his tongue darts out to wet his slightly chapped lips as you gaze up at him with soft, gooey eyes. With a grin you ask, “Well Daddy? I thought you were going to fuck me?”

A warm hand comes up and gently grips the column of your throat, and your eyes widen slightly as Shouta leans down with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Do you really want to tempt fate tonight, sweetheart?” he asks coldly, a wicked smile on his face, and your legs spread a little in response.

“I don’t feel anything,” you purr teasingly, “Don’t tell me it’s already in?”

Without warning, his free hand claps down onto your already sensitive pussy and you let out a choked howl, eyes wide with surprise. During your quick reaction he’d buried his face in your chest, sucking and biting at whatever he could get into his mouth as the hand that had just slapped your cunt gently begins to toy with it soothingly, cooling the stinging and causing a tightness to start building in your belly.

Shouta was no stranger to the sweet spots scattered across your body and eagerly took advantage of each and every one, biting down on sensitive flesh as his fingers gently eased inside of you and began feeling around inside — teasing, of course, considering he knew where the most sensitive spots were inside of you and he purposefully kept himself from touching them. His thumb runs rough, lazy circles on your clit, and you start rolling your hips up into his hands as he worms his way down the bed, finally releasing your throat. You’re practically dripping now, a small wet spot forming on the sheet below you as your juices roll down past his hands and the curve of your ass to puddle on the bed before soaking onto the fabric. Shouta bites aggressively at your inner thigh, and you whine sharply and reach down to take his hair in your hands, tightly fisting your fingers in it as you needily tug his head toward your center. He just laughs and shakes you loose, slapping your thigh to usher a new cry from your lips before taking his thumb off of your clit so he can use his now free hand to slowly play with the sensitive bundle of nerves and focus his other hand entirely on fitting a third finger inside your sopping wet hole, watching greedily as your cunt swallows them up.

You’re openly moaning now, sharp cries and whimpers falling from your lips as he curls his fingers and starts playing with an especially swollen, especially sensitive stretch of flesh inside that has you nearly writhing. You can’t stop yourself from rutting your hips up into his touch, however, when that free hand starts making hard, fast circles over your clit at the same time as his curled fingers piston in and out of your cunt at a brutal pace that has you wailing. “O-Oh god, Shouta, please!” You faintly hear him let out a breathless laugh, but you’re too busy gripping the sheets with one hand and your pillow with the other while thrusting your hips in time with each borderline violent press of his thick fingers inside that you barely even make note of it.

“C’mon now, sweetheart, you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he growls lowly, an excited glint in his eyes as the sounds of your cries changing in pitch signals that you’re about to cum all over his fingers. God, he wants to lap it up like a cat drinking milk; tasting you was always a favorite pastime. He rolls his hips against the mattress, grinding his aching cock between it and his hips and chokes down a shaky whine of his own as spikes of pleasure shoot through him. “Gonna cum for Daddy?”

“Yes! Yes! P-Please, Daddy, let me cum!” you beg shrilly, your entire body shaking. “Please, wanna cum, gotta cum, feels s’good-!”

Shouta knows that if he looked up at you he’d see little tears beginning to gather along your waterline, glittering in the low light like the most precious diamonds, and the thought has him groaning and grinding against the bed harder. “Y-Yeah,” he moans lowly, “Cum for Daddy, baby, cum for Daddy…”

Your cunt tightens around the three fingers he has buried inside you up to his palm, and he replaces his hand on your clit with his mouth, roughly sucking and lapping at it in a way that has you screeching. Your legs fly up to lock around his head and he lets them, enjoying the tight squeeze of both them and your cunt as you fall apart in his mouth and on his fingers. “That’s right, sweetheart, just like that,” he moans into your pussy, licking up all of the shocks of wetness that had started dripping down his hand as you came.

Above him, you’re in tatters, your entire body trembling in a seemingly never-ending spasm. Your eyes have rolled back, and you thoughtlessly clench your thighs around your boyfriend’s head as a means of keeping him in place, desperate to keep coming until you’re screaming. “G-God, oh god — Fuck, Daddy, p-please-!”

Shouta groans into you like a drunken man into a half-empty bottle, and slowly eases up on the movements of his fingers as your thighs slowly loosen. He doesn’t stop circling your sensitive clit with his tongue, though, until you weakly push him away with one foot. Finally he comes up, though, hair wild and face from the nose down soaked in your cum. In the faint light from the television his chin shines, and your heart thumps heavily in your chest as he climbs up the bed as well as the length of your body before slotting himself between your legs, pressing his wet mouth against yours and initiating a heated kiss that leaves you own taste smeared across your lips and in your mouth. His stubble scratches across your cheeks and chin roughly, and you moan into his mouth from both the feeling as well as the feel of his tongue in your mouth.

As the two of you kiss, you allow your hands to wander across his chest and shoulders and around his waist and back, feeling the way he rolled his hips against you and ground his hard cock against your messy cunt and loving it. With each rough rut the head of his cock caught on your clit and left you a moaning whore beneath him — as if he was much better in his place above you.

“Lemme fuck you, please,” he begs weakly, rutting against you desperately, “Please, please — God, I wanna fuck you so fucking bad, sweetheart, please-!”

“Y-Yeah, fuck me!” You gasp, “N-Need it, Sho, need your cock!”

“Fuck yeah, gonna fuck you so good — God you’re so fuckin’ wet, so perfect…” Shouta rambles, fumbling with pressing his cock inside. Gone is the sadistic man who’d lain between your legs taking you apart, and in his place is a man who had already fallen apart at the promise of getting to force his cock inside.

Sitting up, you watch as he uses one trembling hand to press his cock against you, letting out a whimper when it pops inside. The following roll of his hips that buries his length to the base inside you has you letting out a shaky cry; you let your head fall back onto the pillows, your thighs trembling as you boyfriend pulls out then presses inside all over again, quickly building up a rhythm that has the headboard banging against your wall hard enough to have the decorations hanging on it start to shake. In the back of your mind you thank anyone listening that no one had moved into the apartment next to yours yet, and felt a little guilty for whoever would inevitably take up the space.

“F-Fuck — oh god, Daddy, please-!” you whimper, letting out a shriek as a hand cracks across the fat of your tits, the sensitive flesh stinging sharply as tears spring up in your eyes, threatening to roll down your cheeks in a never-ending river showing off the pain and pleasure Shouta was putting you through. The feeling of his cock inside of you leaves you trembling, the heavy drag so fucking good and perfect. It leaves you so very full and pleased that when he roughly fucks against your cervix it punches a sharp gasp out of you, the feeling lmost too much alk at once. You cry out for him, a soaking mess, and he moans into the base of your throat as he keeps his quick pace steady and rough, using your cunt like the little hole of his to fuck that it is and seeking his own pleasure like a starving man does food.

“Oh god, Sho, please!” you wail, tits shaking from each brutal roll of his hips. You throw one leg over his waist as he grunts into your throat, and he wraps an arm under it and hoists it over his shoulder, the position only serving to allow him to bully his cock even deeper inside than before. Tears spring up in your eyes as his head slams against yet again against your sensitive cervix, and you could almost swear that he’d have worked his way into your womb with how rough he was being if that had been possible. Unfortunately it wasn’t, and when he laughs at the fucked out expression on your face it just triggers full tears, which well up quickly in your eyes becore beginning tk roll down your cheeks and temples, fucking ul your makeuo in a way you know will drive him fucking crazy.

“Th-That’s right baby, cry for Daddy!” Shouta moans, gazing down at the tears and mascara streaking down your face hungrily, “What a good fuckin’ girl, crying on that dick — feels that fuckin’ good, huh?”

Your nails dig into his back, scratching near-bloody lines across his skin as you struggle to hold onto him; he growls with each deep scratch. “Y-Yeah!” you sob, trying to speak but unable to get much out as he practically destroys you. “F-Fuck, Daddy, c-can’t think — it’s too hard, too hard to th-think when you’re mixing up my insides-!”

“You can take it,” he growls in response, eyes and hair wild as he starts losing himself to the pleasure. “You can fuckin’ take it, can fuckin’ take this cock — c’mon baby, you’re my good little whore, aren’t you? Gonna take this fat fuckin’ cock like a big girl and milk me dry?”

You wail, completely overwhelmed in only the best way as that ever-familiar knot begins to tie itself up in your lower belly, nodding wordlessly as his thrusts just get rougher and rougher. Your jaw falls open from the pleasure, you eye crossing and eyelashes fluttering, and he spits a fat glob of spit onto your mouth and watches gleefully as you immediately swallow it down. His own eyes roll back at the sight coupled with the sudden feeling of your pussy starting to clench, and he moans out a low, “That’s it sweetheart, cum again for me — cum again for Daddy, cum on my cock!” and relishes the sharp sobs you let out, your pussy spasming around his thick lemgth nd your body shaking in his grip. You cling to him, desperate and needy, and he groans hard as his pace gets messy and loses fluidity as he gets closer and closer, then finally starts cumming.

“Oh g-god, oh fuck-!” he gasps, squeezing his eyes shuts as he fucks intk you messily, filling you with rope after rope of thick heat until he’s left twitching weakly inside of you. He eases to a stop and the two of you lay tangled up like that for a moment before he carefully pulls out. A mixture of his cum amd yours pours out of your hoel, and the sight makes his spent cock twitch twice before he uses the same fingers he’d used to stretch you open to press it back inside once, twice, then one more time, less coming out each time before he stands on shaky knees and starts slowly working his way to the side of the bed to walk to the bathroom that stops with your hand curled around his wrist.

“S-Stay,” you whine plaintively, a soft pout on your face and tears still in your eyes. “Don’t go, stay.”

“I gotta clean us up, honey,” Shouta murmurs softly, eyes fond and warm, and he smiles slightly when you shake your head and deepen the pout.

“No. Tomorrow.” Your voice leaves no room for argument. “Stay.”

With an affectionate sigh, Shouta nods. “Okay. Tomorrow,” he murmurs, getting back in bed with you. You both worm your way into comfortable positions under the blankets and slot yourselves together, content to cuddle until the two of you fell asleep and inevitably drifted to your previously appropriated sides of the bed.

The television, still on, drones monotonously in the background as the two of you lay there together, some late night program that neither of you care about playing as you bask in a shared afterglow. Shouta loves moments like this; they’re always so soft and perfect in ways he never thought he’d get — and yet here you were.

He snatches up the remote and changes the channel a few times before finally muttering to himself and turning it off completely. His stomach grumbles a little, and he considers running to the kitchen for his food, but decides against it until you gently prod him away.

“Go eat,” you mumble, having heard his stomach. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

He huffs out yet another fond laugh and pads into the kitchen, followed swiftly by Tofu, who had long since disappeared from the bedroom when their ‘activities’ had started. He grabs a fork while passing the silverware drawer then reaches the fridge and opens it, searching through it lazily for a moment before finding his containers of takeout and snatching one up, digging into the chicken pasta hungrily. Several sharp pricks tickle against either side of his left ankle, and he nearly drops the container at the slightly painful feeling before looking down.

“Tofu, you fucking bastard, let go of my fucking ankle!” he hisses, and the cat looks up at him through wide eyes for a second before turning and biting the back of his ankle hard. “You fuckin’— get off, you little shit!” The cat just growls around its mouthful of his Achilles tendon, and Shouta shakes his leg a little to try and loosen it to no avail, ultimately tossing his food back in the fridge after shoving several more bites in his mouth so he can reach down and snatch up the furry attacker. The cat writhes in his grip, but Shouta refuses to let go and eventually the tiny bastard goes limo in acceptance, and Shouta gets to go back to his food. The cat swipes at a thick piece of chicken, but Shouta puts the fork out of reach just in time. “No fuckin’ way; maybe if you’d not been a little asshole you could have had some, but you decided to be a little shit and bite me. No chicken for you, and I’m telling Mom.”

The cat meows plaintively, and Shouta shakes his head. “Nope, face the consequences of your actions and suffer.” A screech from the cat gets no response, and Shouta quickly finished up his pasta before tossing the box in the trash and closing the fridge; he had more food, but he wasn’t hungry enough to eat them right now, so they could wait until tomorrow.

He pads back into the bedroom, finding his sleepy girlfriend scrolling through her phone through half lidded eyes. He drops the cat onto the bed and it sprints to her, curling up at her hip on her side of the bed, and he says deadpan, “Your little monster ambushed me.”

You scoff playfully, picking Tofu uo by the armpits and shaking him ever so slightly. “Tofu would never, he’s just a baby,” you purr, laughing a little as he bats at your face with nothing but fluff — a literal sharp contrast to how he’d dug his claws and teeth into Shouta in the kitchen.

“He’s got you completely fooled, I can’t believe it,” Shouta says, shaking his head and smiling as he climbs into bed next to you. You press close, craving the feeling of his skin against yours, and he worms around until he’s comfortable. A simple silence falls between the two of you, Shouta melting into the mattress just like he’d craved since the night had started.

You’re the one to break the silence.

“I hate her,” you mumble quietly, drawing invisible pictures on his bare chest with your index finger. You hear him hum in acknowledgment beneath you, then one of those big hands cups the back of your head.

“I know you do,” is his reply, and you sniff a little and nuzzle closer to him.

“It isn’t fair,” you pout. “She gets to put her hands all over you even though you don’t like it and no one bats an eye, even when you ask her to stop.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he croons softly, trying to calm you down from the inevitable fit you would have, but this doesn't comfort you. “I have you to make it all better.”

You push yourself up some so you can look at him, your lip jutting out in a vicious pout that he’d already heard in your voice. “You shouldn’t have to handle it, Shouta,” you say seriously. “She should fucking listen when you say no.”

Shouta just nods. “I agree,” he replies gently. “But she won’t change. We both know that.”

You shrug. “Then she’ll die,” you say simply, eyes dark and filling with the beginnings of bloodlust. Shouta hums a little yet again and seemingly ponders this, then nods again.

“…Hmm. If that’s what you want, it’s fine by me,” he says simply, clutching you tightly. You scoff.

“I wasn’t asking permission.”

“I wasn’t giving it,” he replies, recognizing the teasing tone. He presses back into the mattress with a sigh and allows all the tension to leave his body, relaxing into the bed he shared with you. You nuzzle against him again, and he hums happily at the contact and closes his eyes as the smoky edges of sleep flicker around in his mind. He can feel one of your hands playing with his hair, your fingers running through it and gently working out the knots.

God, he was exhausted.

“Sleep, Sho,” you murmur softly, pressing one hand to his cheek. He smiles faintly and leans into your touch as you smile back at him tenderly, and everything fades into a blissful silence.

A weight on his chest and a soft paw slapping his nose is what rouses Shouta from the deep sleep he’d been in, and he blearily opens his eyes to the sight of Tofu sitting on him smacking him across the face — just like every morning.

Who needs an alarm clock when you have a cat?

Shouta groans and sits up, stretching and ignoring the annoyed mrrp! his cat lets out when forced to hop down. Glancing to your side of the bed, he smiles softly at the sight of you with wild hair and drool dripping down your chin with one hand thrown over your head, and he leans down and nuzzles you affectionately. You hum softly and slowly blink awake, your first sight of the day being him bumping his nose against yours.

You grin. “Hi,” you whisper, and he grins back.

“Hi,” he murmurs, and you giggle. You glance at the clock and then smile eagerly, a sudden lusty look in your eye.

“Think we could have a quickie this morning before you go to class, Sensei?” you purr, and he groans and lets his head thump against your shoulder, closing his eyes.

“If you were anyone else, that wouldn’t have been so fucking sexy,” he mumbles, and you giggle before pressing a quick series of kisses to his stubbly jaw.

“Well, Sensei?” you ask playfully, and he looks at you with dark eyes. “Aren’t you going to teach me a lesson?”

He grins wickedly and doesn’t respond, instead jumping you and pressing you into the mattress. You accidentally let out a gleeful shriek as he begins to lave open-mouthed kisses across your skin, suckling at your skin long enough to leave marks alongside the bruises from last night.

He pulls away, lips slightly swollen, and locks eyes with you, smiling breathlessly. “I’m gonna take you apart,” he says proudly, and over the next hour he does just that before padding off into the bathroom for another shower, leaving you spread out on the bed with a racing heart. Your entire body feels like a bowl of mush, and as the sounds of him showering in the bathroom reach your ears you groan, forcing yourself to move. You’d wanted to make him a bento this morning, and you damn well were going to.

It’s done by the time he leaves the bedroom, fully dressed in his hero uniform, and you’re resting on the sectional with Tofu dozing on your lap and one of your several computers on hand. Shouta doesn’t want to know what you’re looking at so excitedly and pointedly ignores the screen as he dips down and catches your lips with his, kissing you deeply.

“I’ll see you tonight, I don’t have patrol tonight,” he mumbles against your lips before kissing you again. You smile softly and nod.

“Okay hun. Oh, and don’t forget your lunch on the kitchen counter!” youncall, and he grunts a response. He heads to the kitchen and grabs his keys and a coat as well as his capture weapon, and during all of this Tofu wakes up. The cat darts off of your lap and into your kitchen and then, judging from the choked screech your boyfriend lets out, proceeds to jump the man and start biting.

“Fucking why, Tofu?!”

You giggle softly and call the cat, and the little menace bounces back to you as if he’d not done anything wrong, curling up in your lap and starting to purr happily. Shouta grumbles the entire way out the door, and then he’s leaving, and you’re still giggling. Hizashi was at the door, ready to grab breakfast with Shouta as expected, and he calls out a quick greeting and says ‘hello’ to Tofu before setting out with your boyfriend, letting the house fall silent.

You grin and get back to work.

Hours later you’re hungry, so you put your… less than legal work to the side and head to the kitchen, leaving Tofu asleep on the couch. As you go in, you pause, glancing at the end of the corner of the kitchen counter where the bento you’d made Shouta sits. At first you’re annoyed, but then you grin; he must have put it down in the struggle for his life when he went head on against the cat.

Grabbing a pretty pink and white handkerchief, you wrap the large box up so you can hold it by handkerchief loops and begin making your way to U.A. School, buying yourself lunch along the way ( Because honestly? You deserved it. ). It takes around an hour, but eventually you make it, and after a few more minutes you manage to weasel your way inside and begin your trek through the halls to Class 1-A’s room.

Ahead of you is a familiar white bundle of fur wrapped up in a small suit, and you giggle softly to yourself. “Hello, Nedzu!” you greet brightly through a grin that mimicked a shark's predatory smile. The stoat ahead of you freezes, then turns quickly and responds in kind, his small black eyes shining darkly as the two of you — a frequent pair online when it came to tearing down certain aspects of hero society — coem to meet in the hallway.

“Hello! What brings you to U.A. today?” he asks kindly, walking beside you as you continue on your way, and you laugh genuinely.

“Shouta forgot his lunch at home, I was just bringing it to him,” you explain with ease, and he nods.

“Oh, how kind!” he replies, and smiles again while narrowing his eyes. “Though next time we will have to get you a security access card; it won’t do to have unannounced guests slipping in and out of the school!” Though the two of you could be considered ‘friends’, the slight warning was clear; while he wasn’t upset with you for coming in, he’d have preferred to not have a weakness in security that you could take advantage of enough to enter the school undetected.

Oh well. He’d patch the ‘hole’ and you’d find a new way to worm yourself in until the security system was sl tightly woven a drop of water couldn’t seep through. That was the entire purpose of this game, after all.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” is the only response you give, and it seems to please him enough. The rest of your walk to Shouta’s classroom is spent in interesting conversation, various subjects coming and going until finally you reach the classroom door.

“Well, this is your stop!” Nedzu says brightly. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Thank you!” you call kindly as he disappears around a corner, and you knock then enter.

All eyes lock on you as you come in, and out of all of them the only ones that don’t shine with confusion are your boyfriend’s. He stands from his chair and strides over to you quickly, an eyebrow raised, and growls quietly in a tone many ( but not you ) would consider harsh, “Now you know damn well you aren't supposed to come here — do you realize how many people there are here who could identify you?”

You just smile brightly. “You left your bento on the kitchen counter!” you say, and he pauses for a moment and looks down at the pink bundle.

“…Oh,” he mumbles simply, then nods. “Thank you, then.”

“You’re welcome,” you smile, and he turns to put it on the desk then pauses. You tilt your head to the side curiously, still ignoring the twenty pairs of eyes on the pair of you, as he turns around.

“How the hell did you get in?” Shouta asks, both curious and confused, but you just giggle and give him a quick, soft kiss on the lips.

“That’s a secret for me and Nedzu to know, honey,” you say sweetly, then disappear out the door. Aizawa stares after you, then sighs.

“Well fuck,” he mutters. “That’s a match made in hell; god, why did I introduce those two to each other?” He turns and faces the sea of children he’d momentarily forgotten he had, and freezes. For a moment he fears they’ve recognized her, but then he registers that all twenty of his stupid children are grinning like the little devil spawns they are, and he fights off the urge to groan. “Why me, god?”

“Aizawa-Sensei has a girlfriend!” Ashido shrieks excitedly, and his entire Hell Class devolves into excited banter and rambling, endless questions pouring his way from all twenty, even the handful he trusted to be the quiet ones.

“Why didn’t you tell us about your girlfriend, Sensei?!” Ashido asks, mimicked afterwards by nearly twenty voices.

“Is she our new mom?” Kaminari asks, glancing at Kirishima through a grin that was brightly returned. The entire class giggles at the question.

“Sensei has a girlfriend! Sensei has a girlfriend!” comes a random cheer from seemingly nowhere, likely Hagakure, and Shouta collapses into his chair with his face buried into his hands as twenty voices pummel him with question after question and the shrieks never end.

“This. This is why I never told you,” he grumbles in response to Ashido, and the entire class devolves into more giggles and talking. Shouta sighs; it was only Monday.

This was panning out to be a long week.

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

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eee-lordy · 3 months

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Hiiii! Can you write about jacob elordi x fem reader who is in charge of the makeup and outfits on saltburn or elvis?

Maybe there is a video going viral where he is looking at her (WITH THOSE PUPPY DOG EYES HAHSHAJDVDSJ IM GONNA EAT HIM) while she is doing his make up and she is clueless, yk those videos where the music is lana del rey and the caption is like "me when im literaly obsessed with her" or "when hes completely in love with u>>>>>"

And when that goes viral, the cast teases him and they go on a date?

Idk i think its cute :3

───※ ·❆· ※───

You were never one to get star struck. In the year and a half you'd been professionally applying makeup to the mugs of many stars, you'd been unfazed by celebrities captivating auras. You hardly blushed when Chris Pine tried asking you out as he sat in your makeup chair. You'd laughed in understandable assurance as Billie Eilish apologized for almost knocking your powder kit from your grasp; when her brother burst in the room to surprise her. You saw your clients as just that, people who trusted you to properly apply blush and fake scars.

But all the composure you'd been proud to claim went out the window when you'd been assigned to work with the cast of Sofia Coppola new film. You hadn't expected to lose your cool. In fact, you'd been rolling your eyes as the hair stylist that shared your caravan had droned on and on about this new Elordi fellow and how dreamy he was. Some of the other workers in the hair and makeup department parroted her yearning for the guy. But you were certain you'd remain calm and cool in this supposed deities presence.

And then he sat down in your chair. And he looked up to you with an intriguing set of droopy dark eyes. And you knew Jacob Elordi was about to be a real problem for you.

It wasn't his fame. You weren't swept up by his essence because of the collective crowd on the internet drooling over the guy. It wasn't even his magnetism. Because he did have a lot of that, you wavered it was necessary to survive fame. But it was more the way he would look up at you from that make up chair. With those dumb stupid big beautiful eyes. And his smile that followed. And then the infuriating way he'd start conversations with you, those first few days on set.

"What'd you have for breakfast this morning?" Jacob would wonder, watching as you readied a sponge. You would answer and ask for his in return. He would mention stopping by a cafe earlier and go on to ask you where you grew up and if you liked it there and what the best book you've ever read was called.

"You've got to stop chatting away, makes it hard to do your touch up's." You'd smile, reaching out to adjust Jacobs perfect fucking face so you could work on his brows.

"Sorry." He breathed out, seemingly genuinely guilty. He went on explaining himself still, slowly as you continued to do your job. "Don't like awkward silence. Or bullshit small talk. Getting to know you seemed like the safest route. Since you'll be covering the dark circles under my eye's this whole shoot."

You laughed in understanding before announcing that you got it, and waved over the hairdresser on site today.

"Wait, before you go, that book you mentioned..." Jacob pointed your way as you turned for closing up your kit of brushes. Then you watched as the guy wrestled his cellphone from his jacket pocket. "Here," Jacob said, extending the device your way. "Write the title in my notes app. I will forget, but I don't want too. It sounded properly readable."

"Oh." You turned your lips down in a twisted grin of surprise. As you took the device from Jacob's grasp, you felt a surge of gratification that the guy trusted you enough with his phone let alone wanted to read a book you mention not having read since uni.

Not missing the way the hairdresser rolled her eyes, you grinned and found Jacobs notes app with ease, straining not to glance beyond your means. With the press of a few buttons you wrote down the title, and fought off the impulsive urge to include your very own phone number as well. That would be embarrassing, knowing full well this man would never call or text or probably even dare to glance your way beyond the makeup chair.

///

The next few weeks went by the same. Jacob would yammer away until you almost had to hold his mouth shut to finish his makeup. And you would fill the silence by telling stories of your own, because he'd mentioned he wasn't fond of silence and you knew your job went beyond applying lip liner, it was also to keep celebrities happy as royalty.

And all the while you blinked away thoughts of how funny he was. How beautiful Jacob was. You wouldn't let yourself realize he was exactly your type. You wouldn't let yourself dream that you might be his. You simply relished the times you made him laugh. Once you made him laugh so hard he cried, tear tracks ruining the powder you'd only just applied.

The hairdresser who was the leader of fawning over Jacob as soon as he left the room had taken to frowning in your direction most days. You reckoned it was because she'd never been able to make him laugh that hard, or at all, ever. And the stories she told him when he asked her to seemed to lose his interest halfway through every time. Try as Jacob might, you saw his eyes glaze over as the hairstylist droned on about her retirement plan or the grocery list she'd put together that day.

After acknowledging her sorry excuse for conversation Jacob would stop you from packing up and heading to lunch so he could ask you for more books to read, more films to watch, more stories from you. Then his assistant would interrupt, or he'd be called to set and you'd be left to head to the craft table with dangerous feelings of lust and intrigue to push away. You would not let this boy break you of your career long streak of professionalism, damn it.

///

One night, in the middle of a week break from set, you spent an evening scrolling mindlessly. When a tiktok with Jacob's name in the tags popped up, you scrolled away at the speed of light. You didn't let yourself linger too long on posts with him there, not wanting to know anything good bad or otherwise so long as you were assigned to work with him on this project. But it wasn't long before another tiktok popped up featuring the guy in a very familiar setting. He was too famous at this point. You watched as you saw leaked footage from behind the scenes of Priscilla, but weren't too shocked. The stars of the film were occasionally being interviewed by publicists between takes to document their experience, beginning to promote the film.

And maybe you let yourself keep watching out of a sense of entitlement, you'd been working on this set. You could watch a video of Jacob from work, right? You couldn't tear your eyes from him no matter how hard you tried now anyway. You watched as the person holding the camera zoomed in on the guy while he adjusted his suit jacket. You watched as he seemed to talk to the costars at his side. You watched as he looked up and smiled. And you couldn't help but melt a little at the sight, he seemed so happy, so at ease. And then you watched as Jacob's grin widened as he waved someone closer. And much to your horror, you saw yourself step into frame.

You remembered that day, where you waited on the side lines to fix Cailee's eyeliner. While the director was storming up a new camera angle, Jacob waved you over to mention the last chapter of your favorite book he'd almost finished reading. He was laughing over a bit that you'd warned him about the week before. And you were laughing over how excited he was about it, finally having someone to gush over your favorite plot with.

Now, huddled beneath the blankets of your bed, you slammed your phone down at your side, bewildered to know someone had caught your interaction on camera. Raddled to have just seen Jacob lighting up at the sight of you. Angry at yourself for hopping you'd read his body language in a way that suggested he really liked you that much.

When you picked your phone back up, you watched the candid moment over and over, trying to debunk Jacob's smile. Trying to convince yourself he was only being friendly, only cared because he had to find someone to mingle with during down beats.

And then you read the comments.

"If Jacob smiled at me like that, I would die."

"Imagine making him laugh like that she's so lucky."

"Who is she??" One comment read. "Her last name will be Elordi if he hasn't married her already, calling it." Someone replied.

You shouldn't have read the comments.

///

When you were due back on set you swallowed away the excitement bubbling up in you at the prospect of seeing Jacob again. This was so unlike you, to be awaiting the arrival of your client with an embarrassing giddiness. As you reminded yourself that this was your job and Jacob was simply a guest in your makeup chair- the man himself eased into the caravan, ready to get ready for the day.

"Hey, you! I had a bunch of points earned up to get two free coffees so I brought you one. I remember you said you like almond milk so I asked for that." Jacob was all smiles as he extended a latte to you. Awe fuck.

"Thank you, Jacob." You struggled not to sigh with angst as you accepted his very generous surprise. Luckily, he seemed none the wiser that you'd answered through gritted teeth. He just kept smiling as he headed to your chair.

"Oh, me first today lovie. Need to start your dye straight off, you're little makeup girlfriend will have to wait." The hairdresser announced, daring to grab Jacob by his sleeve, yanking him toward her end of the trailer. The other workers around rolled their eyes, sick of her endless commentary. You bit your tongue as you leaned against the counter, shaking your head when a coworker scoffed in the hairdresser's direction. Luckily, Cailee waltz in, ready for you before anyone else. You thanked God for the distraction, readying your brow pencil and chatted to the girl about her break from set.

All the while, your least favorite coworkers voice demanded to be the loudest in the room. She made everyone listen to some boring ass story and practically whinnied when Jacob got up to trade Cailee places.

"No offence, you're fine and all, just don't have hair as silky smooth as Jacob's." The hairdresser told Cailee but made sure her comment was loud enough for everyone to hear. "Oh wait, silly me,"

As Jacob settled in the makeup chair and began to ask if the drink he'd brought you was good, the hairdresser of your nightmares shoved her way between you and the person you were meant to be working on.

"I left of a bobby pin, how'd I forget," She droned in an annoying pitch, nearly shoving you over in her attempt to get closer to Jacob.

"Can you please get out of my space?" You called, annoyed that she was pushing you away from your station without a single polite excuse.

"Can you please stop being such a jealous bitch?" The hairdresser whipped to face you with a manic smile.

"Oh my God?" You almost laughed in shock at her comment when another coworker dared to reach out and pulled her away, and out of the trailer. Another hairdresser apologized to the room for the previous girl's behavior and stepped up to lead charge of Cailee's wig.

With no time to shake the rage that had been born in you, you pushed it down, biting your lip hard as you went about finding the right sponge for Jacob's foundation.

"Are you okay?" He asked, seemingly worried. And that pissed you off too. Why'd he have to act like he cared so much? Why'd he have to be so damn wonderful?

"I'm fine. Thank you again for the coffee, it...is kind of bitter but it was a really sweet gesture, I swear. Close your eye's please." You responded as calm and cool as possible.

"Bitter... sweet..." Jacob winked, just for you to see. It was the best thing you'd ever witness. And the worst all the same. You were sure you blushed. You tilted his chin and struggling to suppress how much you'd miss when you didn't get to be this close to him. He stayed quiet as you finished his face, and so did you. When his makeup was done, almost everyone else had left the trailer. The last remaining beautician was walking out as you'd closed the case to your kit.

"I thought you didn't like awkward silence." You dared to mention, as Jacob stood to leave. It wasn't like you'd thought to ask. It was just a thought that ended up blurted out. And then you were bold enough still to look up and right at the guy with those perfectly shaped eyes to find he'd already been staring right at you.

"S'not so awkward with you."

You really wish he hadn't said that. You really wished you'd never prompted him too. You really wished he wasn't still standing there looking across the features of your face like he was waiting on you to respond. There was a knock on the door just in time, and a voice calling for Jacob to hurry to set.

"I'll see you after lunch, right?" Jacob wondered as he moved toward the door. You muttered something like "Yeah sure," as you turned to start collecting your things. As far as Jacob knew you were headed to the craft table. But as your feet started marching out of the trailer, you found yourself headed toward the manager of the crew you'd been hired in with. You explained to her that you really thought it was best you turned in your resignation.

You'd never dared yourself to tread the line during work. Never been so enamored with someone you were meant to be professional with. It wasn't in your best interest to see how far this went. And it wasn't in Jacobs best interest that you kept lingering around distracting him with stories and novel suggestions.

So, on a decided whim, you packed your things, swallowed frustrated tears, and headed home for good.

///

You let yourself be mad once your front door was shut and locked. You threw away the stupid coffee Jacob bought you. You turned the telly off and tossed the remote toward the hardwood when Euphoria came on. You muttered and cursed and slammed cabinets as you made a carb heavy comfort meal and called your best friend.

The day went on and turned to night as you tried to stop feeling sorry for yourself. You began getting ready for bed, talking yourself into sleeping off all the weird feelings and events that had transpired today. Tomorrow, you'd find a new job and make sure to decline any with that one awful hairdressers name on the list of beauticians.

As you sat on the edge of your bed and set a reminder for yourself to job hunt tomorrow afternoon, a notification interrupted your typing.

Instagram was alerting you that one certain Jacob Elordi was sending you a fucking message. He'd followed you a couple weeks ago, when you handed him your phone to show him a picture of your beloved childhood pet. He scrolled away from it and found your handle to promptly pull up on his very own Instagram, following you with a smile.

Your eyes widened and your thumb worked faster than your brain, clicking the popup before you could talk yourself out of it. Oh, shit now he was going to know you opened his fucking stupid ass message. You really wished you hadn't met this boy. He wasn't even here and he was torturing your every thought.

"You were NOT there after lunch as promised. Call me? xx"

Before your eyes displayed a row of numbers that if pressed would call Jacob Elordi's cell phone. You tried really hard to talk yourself out of it. But being away from him for the last ten hours had really done a number on your heart. It missed him more than your brain was afraid to admit. Your thumb clicked the numbers. Your phone started to ring.

After one buzz he answered.

"I got off set to hear you'd quit and left me to bear that horrid hairdresser without you? Was the coffee really that bad?" Jacob's voice crackled through the line, soft and saccharine. You chuckled morosely at his coffee joke before responding.

"No pleasant greeting. What if it wasn't me calling? What if it was some crazy fan girl?" You dared to venture.

"Are you saying you're not a fan of mine?"

You wanted to assure him that you were probably his biggest, but sighed in place of a response, struggling to choose your words.

"What happened? That hairdresser should be fired. You shouldn't've left." Jacob spoke, as you watched the traffic out your window and relished the sound of his voice in your ear.

"It..." You couldn't help it. You couldn't hide it any longer. "It wasn't really her. I quit because of you, Jacob."

"Me? I- I'm sorry I thought we-" He sounded too worried, and you realized you'd spoken a little too cryptically.

"Not because you did anything wrong." You hurried to explain, interrupting his unnecessary apology. "It's me, not you."

"Is this a break up? I never even got to ask you on a proper date." He laughed a humorless laugh.

"That's the thing." You said. "I like you way more than I should've ever let myself. It's too unprofessional for me to work with you and have these feelings. I'm sorry, I shouldn't even be telling you this. Everyone treats you like a piece of meat, I hate that I-"

"So... what I'm hearing..." Jacob's voice rose a bit as he interrupted you, catching your attention off guard. "Is that I can actually ask you on a proper date? And this doesn't have to be a break up at all."

"Oh! I- wait are you joking?" You blurted, shocked by the tone of his voice and the fact that it seemed like Jacob Elordi was asking you out.

"I like you too, dummy. I've been doing my damnedest to make that clear. You know I don't just follow every wardrobe artist on Instagram and bring camera men cafe treats. I used my free coffee on you! I'm so sorry it was no good though."

"It wasn't the worst coffee ever." You smiled, feeling a calm and hopeful buzz wash over you.

"Well, let me take you on a proper date, for a proper cup of coffee, and talk you back on set."

"I can date you, or be your makeup artist, but I will not allow myself to do both. I have a very strict moral compass as a working lady."

"I'll choose the first option then by a long shot." You could hear Jacob's smile in the tone of his voice. You let him ramble a little longer about the day he'd had and how bad he felt that you'd been moved to quit. He asked you to meet him at the cafe across from the set during lunch tomorrow, and you promised you would in fact show up without a doubt this time.

Fuck finding a new job tomorrow. You were going on an absolute dream date with Jacob. But you were most definitely ordering your own coffee.

#thanks nonny! this was really fun to write #jacob elordi fanfic #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi x fem!reader #jacob elordi

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flywithmeseo · 6 months

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romanoffsbish · 1 year

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Through the Eras

Natasha Romanoff x Fem(Stylist)!Reader

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

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

All Canon besides EG.

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

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

2002

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

2011

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The agency's hairdresser?"

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

"Well?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do I question your fighting process?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Good luck."

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

—

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

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

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

"You ever boxed before?"

"I have, yes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Atta girl."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

Your voice expectedly cracked, "What?"

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

"I thought you were meant to entice him."

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

"Did you get your dinner?"

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

"Sends the wrong message."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

"Who's sick?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm not staying in the car."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hill."

Natasha nodded, "Makes sense then."

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

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

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

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

"Would you be interested in getting dinner?"

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

2012

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

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

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

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

"Why would you be nervous?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Natasha smirked, "Much better, yes please."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which you were...

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

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

"Agent Romanoff, always such a pleasure."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Natasha smirked against you, "I always do."

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y/N?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fair enough."

—

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

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

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

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

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

"Lovely to see you again Zoe."

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(I'm going to keep you forever.)

"What was that?"

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

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

2014

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

“Natasha, what is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2016

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

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

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

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

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

You knew...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2018

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

You always answered your phone.

No matter what.

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

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

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

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

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

2023

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

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

“If I move on, who does this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

—

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How are you feeling my love?”

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can Norway become Ohio?”

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

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

“Yelena?!”

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

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

——

13,049 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn 🥰

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photoluxcommercialst · 1 year

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desert-fern · 11 months

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A Gun Amongst Daggers - Jake “Hangman” Seresin X Fem!Navy Seal Reader

Part 8: The Boat to Riyadh

Summary: When Jake meets a woman at the Hard Deck, the last thing he expects is for her to be a Navy Seal. And not just any Seal, the Commander of Seal Team 3. She’s beautiful, smart, dangerous, and everything about her just makes him want to get close. Her name? Bear. When the Seals need backup, Cyclone puts the Daggers on their radar and now, Jake has to work with Bear and her team, all the while trying to stay professional. Can he do it? Or will he end up falling for the Navy sniper and mission Commander?

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE! 18+ ONLY. MINORS & BLOGS WITH NO AGE/EMPTY BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Warnings: swearing, and I think that's it!

Word Count: 3.3k

Masterlist >> Part 7 >> Part 9

===

The journey was long and unremarkable. No one could do much and there was only so long someone could be cooped up in close quarters before they lost it. Thankfully, only petty disagreements happened, and knowing her team, Bear knew that it could definitely have been worse. For the most part, the Seals were nose deep in folders, trying to cram the smallest detail into their brains about this mission, possible formations, contingency plans, and more.

The pilots on the other hand, found themselves wandering aimlessly through the ship, alternating between bugging their Seal teammates and each other. But it was safe to say that everyone was bored out of their minds and arrival at Jebel Ali couldn’t come soon enough.

Bear groaned, scrubbing her hands over her face in frustration. The numbers weren’t adding up. There was simply no way that al-Hameed had as many people around him as he claimed. If that were the case, the drones that had been launched repeatedly over the area as well as satellite imaging would have confirmed the number she’d been given. Taking a deep breath, she got up and went in search of Flare, her expert in reconnaissance missions and information gathering. Hopefully her Lieutenant could give her some more insight into what was really going on beyond a man’s over-exaggerated body guard number.

“Flare. Mind following me?” Bear asked, finding the young woman with her nose in a book.

“Bear? Is everything okay?” Flare asked, setting the book down and following after her Commander.

Bear nodded. “For the most part, I’m struggling to grasp something and hoped that you could shed some light on the situation.”

“I’ll do my best, but I can’t guarantee anything,” Flare replied. “What was causing the issue?”

“al-Hameed’s number of followers at the compound. The IJU doesn’t have many active posts in Saudi Arabia, most are in tribal Pakistan, so unless Khrushov’s people were counted and then, I don’t know, doubled or something so it filled the space for al-Hameed, something else is going on,” Bear told her, pointing at the papers in front of her.

“Weird. Give me a second, let me grab my copies so I can compare because something is definitely off.” The young woman rushed from the room, skidding around the corners and past other Navy personnel as she made for her bunk.

Minutes later, she was back, files in hand. “Okay, so this is the satellite image from this day, that matches. But this is from… huh. I see what happened. You were sent the wrong data, because I have these two dates on images and reports, while you have this other one, from weeks ago.”

“So what you’re telling me, Flare, is that my files were changed?” Bear asked, arms crossed.

Biting her lip, Flare hummed. “I can’t say for sure, but it’s weird that I have this and you don’t. Especially since I sent you everything that came across my email in relation to this mission.”

Rubbing her temples, Bear sighed in frustration. “Okay, thanks. I’m trying to get a hold on roughly how many of you guys I will need for this, so I’m going to copy the numbers I need and give this back to you.” Bear sat back down in her chair, continuing on. “Meanwhile, before you get back to your book, I need you to draft an email to send the second we hit secure service in Riyadh. Tell them to take a look into my account, computer, and tech that is on base. I want to make sure that I haven’t been hacked.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Wonderful, thank you.” She watched Flare leave the room, letting out a huff as she went back to her planning. Time flew by, and now with the correct numbers, she knew that she would need most of the people she’d brought along. Better safe than sorry, she supposed.

For Jake, he was reminded just how much he hated the traveling portion of the deployments. Security reasons meant that outside communication was limited, not that he had anyone he wanted to talk to in the States, and that in turn limited access to the internet. At least it was limited for them, Bear had been adamant that all technology was off. Total blackout. “More like total boredom,” he muttered, standing up from his bunk and wandering off to find someone new to chat with.

His wandering brought him down random hallways until he found himself in a room with the Seals. Fireball, for some inane reason, had taken a liking to him, and they had discovered each other’s preference for rival football teams, which they dug up again and when Jake checked the time, he found that they had spent two hours explaining why the other was wrong. “Dude,” Fireball said, exasperated. “The stats speak for themselves. Your team hasn’t been good fo-” he cut himself off, glancing at the door.

Jake turned, finding himself face to face with Bear. “Bear.”

“Flyboy.”

“Commander, is there something you need?” Fireball asked, glancing between his CO and new friend.

She nodded. “But it can wait. If I stare at any more reports today, my head might explode,” Bear complained, flopping into one of the chairs. “I’d get into it, but Hangman isn’t cleared for this level of information, unfortunately.”

The room filled with silence. No one knew what to say, especially since Bear wasn’t typically one to complain. “I intruded on your space, didn’t I?” she asked after a moment. “Shit, okay. Well, food is ready in like 20 so I will see you guys there.” With a groan, Bear heaved herself up and out of the chair, quickly and quietly disappearing from the room.

Glances were exchanged, before Jake stood. “I don’t know about you, but I’m going to mess so all the good bread isn’t taken,” he remarked casually, strolling off down the halls after Bear.

She looked confused when he did find her, wondering why he would ask if she was okay. “I’m fine. I just know that there are things that you don’t necessarily want to discuss in front of your CO,” Bear told him, her brown eyes meeting his green. “It’s kind of sweet that you were concerned though. I appreciate it. But I really am fine.”

He gave her a grin, walking backwards towards the door, wincing when his shoulder slammed into the side of the door. “Ow.”

“You good, Flyboy?”

The signature smirk made its appearance on Jake’s face. “Oh, I’m good, Teddy. I’m very good.”

“Oh fuck you,” she groaned. “That was terrible.”

His smirk grew and he strode towards her, backing her into the table behind her. “I’m pretty sure you’d enjoy that too much, Teddy,” he replied, voice low. Jake caught how her eyes widened, how her cheeks pinked, and the little hitch in her breath with how close he stood, and he relished that his presence was all it took for her to lose some of the rigid control she had on her reactions.

Rolling her eyes, Bear shook her head. Slipping out from against the table, she stood with her arms crossed, amusement dancing in her eyes. “You wish, Flyboy. You fucking wish.”

“Oh I do,” Jake retorted. With one more appraising glance, he left her standing in the middle of the room, shock evident on her face.

“Ugh! That motherfucker!”

===

Nearly 20 days after their original departure date and five days after the incident, as Bear had taken to calling it, the USS Abraham Lincoln made port in Saudi Arabia’s port Mina Jebel Ali.

The deck had erupted in chaos, pilots, support crew, engineers, Seals, and any number of personnel were rushing to and fro, trying to get everything settled for the disembarkation of a fraction of the number that would continue on to the naval base in Busan.

“Flare, Shrike, Bug, Fireball, are your people ready?”

“Yes Ma’am, ready and waiting to fly out. Waiting on your signal to send them off,” Bug replied.

“Send them off. Join your teams, I will do one last check with Captain Mitchell before I join you en route to Riyadh,” Bear ordered. “You are dismissed.”

Four nods from her Lieutenants followed her words before they disappeared into the flurry of movement. Bear watched the helicopters take off, each one carrying nearly ten Seals apiece. It made her nervous, knowing how many things could go wrong. Even if it was just an hour and a bit from where the port. Anything could be waiting the second they flew out of the urban areas.

Steeling herself, Bear blew out a deep breath, catching Maverick by the arm as he went to pass her. “Everything set?”

“Hell yeah. Just having them to do final checks on the jets. Should be out within 30 to 45, depending on whether or not Hondo can get everyone organized enough to send us out,” he told her, glancing over her shoulder at Payback, who was finishing up his checks.

“Get your people together, and I will see you soon, Mav.” Bear clapped him on the back before slipping through the crowd to the last running helicopter that sat on the deck of the Lincoln.

Strapping in, Bear placed the headset on, tucked her bag between her feet before signaling to the pilot. “Let’s get this bird in the air.”

===

The flight didn’t take long and when her boots hit the ground at Riyadh Air Base, Bear hurried over, offering an extended hand to the Base Commander, Air Force Colonel Michael Richmond. “Thank you for hosting us, Colonel. We appreciate your cooperation.”

“It isn’t a problem, Commander. Just glad something is finally being done about al-Hameed,” he replied, shaking her hand. “Do you know your way around?”

“I do, Sir. We’ve had some past missions that have had us based out of Riyadh. If nothing changed since I was last here, I believe we should be good to go,” Bear told him. “I hope that the arrangements for our pilots were communicated in advance?”

“Yes, they were. Admiral Harris was quite clear when he sent the request that it was anything but a request,” Richmond chuckled.

“That sounds like him.”

The Colonel nodded, calling over a few of his people. “Staff Sergeants Miller and Roux will show you to the accommodations.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Settling in only took a few hours. But thanks to the time change, most of her people and the pilots were absolutely exhausted. Luckily for them, it was evening when the last F-18 touched down, allowing most of their personnel to fall asleep quickly.

And they did.

The next morning hit them all hard. It was an early start. Maverick had the Daggers up, doing standard runs and drills to get his people back in the air and work out any final kinks as they practiced the bombing run.

Bear, on the other hand, had allowed her Seals an extra hour of sleep, knowing that in two days, they would be up for hours on end. She figured that a little extra sleep couldn’t hurt. At 0630 though, she walked through the halls banging her fist on all the doors of her people whether they were up or not. Training had to be done, but Bear had chatted with Maverick the night before to ask if her people could visit the swath of desert over which the Daggers were running their maneuvers, and he had happily agreed.

So 45 minutes later, Bear and her team traveled out to where Maverick stood next to an abandoned hangar, where they could see the planes twisting and curling through the air like kites whose strings had been let out a little too far. “Bear!” Maverick yelled over the noise, waving them down. “You’re in for a show! I’m pretty sure that they know you’re here!”

“Well we aren’t exactly a small group!” She yelled back, tilting her head up to watch two planes race past overheard, chasing each other with reckless abandon. “And I’m pretty sure they could see us coming for miles!”

He laughed, waving the group of Seals over to cluster around him. “Throw your packs against the wall, I can maybe use a few of you in running this next series.” Tapping the radio in his hand, Maverick spoke, voice crackling through the comms of the twelve pilots above him, “The Seals showed up. A few are gonna give you information. Listen for your call sign.”

“Copy Mav,” Phoenix replied, twisting over Coyote to dive low enough to wave at Bear and Bug before flying off and allowing her aircraft to hover midair, waiting for the instructions. “I can tell Bagman’s a second away from showing off though.”

“Oh fucking hell,” Omaha swore goodnaturedly. “Now wingmen really will be left hanging.”

“Fuck off you two,” Jake replied, his cheeks a little red. “I’m still this good, regardless.”

A few cackles filled his headset, and down on the ground, Bear could hear the teasing from the large radio inside the hangar. It made her grin, loving the ribbing the blonde man was on the receiving end of, thankful that it was his turn and not hers. “Alright people, who wants to go first?” she asked, scanning over her people. A few hands went up, and Bear glanced back at Maverick. “How many did you need?”

He held up four fingers and Bear picked off four people, who followed her to the radio where Maverick stood. He had written down the instructions he wanted certain pilots to have during the exercise, and passed them over to the Seal leader, who flipped them over, making her people draw blindly. “Okay, Coyote, Raptor has some instructions for you. Go ahead Raptor,” the older pilot told the young man next to him.

He relayed information that he was given with minimal issue. He had turned back to Bear, giving her a huge shrug after, saying, “I have no fucking clue what I just said.”

Up in the air, the Daggers heard his words and laughed. “Hate to break it to you, Raptor, but I could tell!” Coyote teased.

The other three Seals had their turns, each one of them making faces back at their Commander signaling their uncertainty. “Well, this will be fun,” Maverick said. Gesturing them forwards, the pilot began telling them the exercise. “So what we just told them to do, is really the most basic one we have. Coyote and Rooster are dogfighting against Phoenix and Halo. It’s just two minutes, a short one. Make sense?”

The Seals around him nodded and they watched as the drill they had relayed to the pilots began. The ducking, dodging, and weaving of the planes had most of the Seals’ jaws dropping in awe. “This is fucking cool,” Fireball exclaimed, knocking into Flare with how he’d been craning his neck to see. “It’s like they’re dancing.”

“At roughly 7000 feet, going hundreds of miles an hour,” Maverick elaborated, grinning widely. It felt good to show off their skills. And why wouldn’t they? The Seals had already had their turn back stateside.

As soon as it had begun, Coyote and the others slowed. The radio spewed joking insults and proclamations of victory all over the other and Bear delighted in the organized chaos. “Damn,” was all the Seal Commander was able to say. “Wow.”

“Hear that? Bear’s impressed with you all,” Maverick gloated, grinning when he saw the woman shake her head at him. “She’s practically speechless.”

Eyes glinting behind her sunglasses, Bear sauntered forwards, snatching the radio from Maverick’s hands. “As speechless as y’all were after we did our first drill?”

The pilots in the sky burst into laughter. “Sh-she’s got you there, Mav!” Rooster laughed, the mental image too funny for him not to.

Meanwhile, Jake was having a crisis. He loved that Bear was impressed. But he hadn’t done anything yet, and a part of him really wanted to hear her express awe at his skills. And her voice through the headset? Absolutely fucking magical. The lightness of her voice made him grin and want to hear her voice in his ear again. In whatever way he could get it.

“Okay, okay. Settle down.” Maverick was side-eyeing the Seal hard, amusement sparkling in his eyes, knowing full well the dilemma Hangman was having up in the sky. It wasn’t new to him. “Bear, want to do the honors for the next one?”

“Seriously?” Bear narrowed her eyes at him, unsure of what he was playing at.

“C’mon Bear!” One of the Seals yelled and the chant was quickly picked up by the rest of them, Maverick pressing the button on the radio to allow the pilots to listen in, which ended up with them goading her as well, all chanting “Do it. Do it. Do it.”

Waving her arms, Bear shouted over the noise, “Okay! Okay! Fucking Christ! Fine, what am I directing them in?”

A piece of paper was pressed into her hands, and she pulled a face at the words on the note. “Okay, this isn’t fucking legible in the slightest. Flare, you’re always reading the worst handwriting, what does this say?”

“Hangman, Payback and Fanboy, Halo and Omaha, and Harvard, and it looks like Mav has something here about a race?” Flare said, looking at Maverick for confirmation.

“That’s it.”

“Great,” Bear picked up the radio and read out the instructions, calling out the four pilots in question. “From the furthest hangar in the west, over the base and back,” she finished.

“Did you understand any of that?” Jake’s voice came through the speaker and she could hear the smirk in his tone.

“I’m aviationally challenged, not directionally challenged, Flyboy,” she teased back.

“Pretty sure that’s not my call sign.”

“Nope, pretty sure I have the right ‘f-boy’.”

“Oh shit!” Fireball shouted, gaping at his CO. “Bear, you can’t just straight up murder a man like that.”

Bear squinted at him. “Did you forget that that is literally part of our job?”

“Right.”

Up in the sky, Jake was still shell-shocked from her quick comeback. He prided himself in being able to put her off her game, but it seemed that she could do the same just as easily.

“All good up there, Hangman? Haven’t heard confirmation of understanding just yet,” Bear said teasingly over his headset, making him groan in frustration.

“Copy that, Ted-Bear,” he replied, the nickname he had for her slipping from his lips with ease. It was only a forced correction that had him changing it mid syllable.

Glances were exchanged. Jake was acting weird, well, weirder than usual and while everyone had a guess as to what was happening, the other party supposedly involved seemed to be unaffected. If only they knew how untrue that was. The groan Jake had let out rattled through Bear’s head, mixing with the fantasies that ran rampant through her mind late at night. It was bad enough she had to see him in that damn flight suit on a daily basis.

Maverick shouted “Go!” and the planes raced past.

Bear watched the planes take off, racing each other down the straightaway. “Which one is which?” She asked Maverick.

“Far right is Hangman. Payback and Fanboy are second left. Omaha is next to Hangman, and Harvard is far left,” he told her, watching the planes begin to distance themselves from one another.

“And here they come!” Someone yelled from behind her. They were right. The planes raced back towards them with who she thought was Hangman in first place. Her suspicions were confirmed when he gave a shout of victory, whooping with delight.

“Alright, back home Daggers,” Maverick told them. “Refuel, and we’ll come back up this afternoon.”

“Copy Mav,” came the replies, with one pilot replying “Okay dad.”

Bear turned to the Seals. “Grab your gear, we’re going back. We have a few more raid drills to practice before we’re done for the day.”

She nodded to Maverick, who returned the gesture, before Bear led the Seals off at a run in the direction of the base.

===

A/N: So they are in Saudi now! Still going to be a bit before it picks up, but Bear is still a boss bitch! Thank you to @startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s and @dakotakazansky for reading this part for me!

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