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#and how she took after Belle for making plans
konako · 2 years
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Inspired by the question about Lacey's style and how ironic it would be if she preferred sneakers. And, of course, also the gorgeous art accompanying those questions. Sneakers come into play in the second part. 
Superheroes, Sneakers & Seductions. Part 1/2. 
Lacey never thought herself to be complicated. Everything about her was simple. Simple in terms that she did what she wanted and never let anyone think otherwise. She did what she wanted, she went where she wanted, she did whomever she wanted and she sure dressed however she liked. Nothin' complicated 'bout that. 
Maybe the other people sometimes thought so about her, but it wasn't true. Some needed a hard lesson, a proper Lacey 101 to learn that truth. Gold learned that the hardest. Kept woman or not, no one ordered Lacey around. Gold really should be counting his blessings that it was his car and cane that took the brunt of Lacey's displeasure. It could have been worse. Much. 
Another reason that some of these people thought of Lacey as a different person was because… she was, apparently. Lacey had no memory of being anyone but herself, however she did hear the story. About magic, Dark Curses, fake personalities and travellers from other dimensions. It was all rather crazy and laughable, still enough had believed in that superstition to make it a reality of living in Storybrooke. Part of the customs. When in Rome and all that. 
Though, Lacey did find some things that made her less convinced it was only superstition. There were letters and notes written not in her familiar handwriting. Lacey was left-handed, which made her script sharp and orderly, leaning to the left, but the notes she found were in beautiful, flowing cursive. There were receipts written out to Belle French with the same account number as her on her own credit card, which had Annalace Collard written on it now, as had nameplate next to the doopbel to her apartment. Everything seemed to be as if Lacey had always been there and yet there were traces of this 'Belle' person hidden throughout any and everything Lacey owned. 
The most egregious example being her wardrobe. Filled to the brim with dresses, blouses, skirts and a wonderful collection of high heels, it nonetheless felt a bit out of sync with who Lacey knew herself to be. She would never wear yellow. And yet there were dresses and shirts and an assortment of garments in all shades of yellow in that wardrobe or little hats with flowers in them. She would never wear pastels or cardigans. There were a number of items not up to muster. Too bright, too innocent, too dolled-up, too retired old grandma. For some reason that was beyond her, Lacey hadn't just thrown out all the clothes she would never wear and instead just shoved them into the furthest corner, into that big wooden chest, and out of the way. Now, her closet was far less full and in need of diversifying.
And that is how she found herself on the mission to scour every single shop there was to find in town. Not that the array of choices was incredible, but she would manage. 
It was another hunt for new clothes that brought her face to face with someone curious. And that someone, in turn, made her think… was she more complicated than she thought?
Ruby Lucas, also going by 'Red'. Waitress and seemingly a part-time superhero. 
Easily dismissed out of hand at first, Ruby had warranted a second look. Lacey first spotted her in the Diner and the sight was quite worth further and closer inspection. But she was with Gold at the time. The man was useful and jealous, there was no need to rock the boat. Their explosive parting of the ways was still to come. But even then this tall, lanky brunette had caught Lacey's eye. Another curious thing was that she sure did notice how Ruby would look at her. The glances, the sadness and the longing weren’t disguised well – or at all, really. Intriguing. The girl probably knew this Belle, whoever that was, was it that Ruby now saw in Lacey? Was she sad that Belle was gone or was there more to it? Lacey had seen a gleamer beyond the sadness, the tiny little ember of something not even remotely innocent. A glimpse of something more primal, sealed and caged by the societal norms, but more in-tune with Lacey and her own inner beast. It's just that Lacey let it roam free and not be hidden. 
Then one day, Lacey saw Ruby help locate and rescue a spooked cat for an old lady. The little rascal had jumped out of her arms at the sound of a honking car, zipped away and wormed his way in-between the wall of a shop and a bench. Well, some would have called it a bench, but Lacey called it a ridiculous monstrosity. Cast whole out of dark metal and polished to an almost glossy sheen – the bench was a mix of gothic architecture and modern metal sculpture. One of the few testaments to the old eccentricities of the Mayor still remaining in the town. The thing about the bench was that it was, in a word, massive. It wasn't even bolted to the pavement or the wall, what would be the point? Lacey felt her heart give a bit of a painful squeeze as she heard the pathetic little meow of the kitten wedged now up against the wall, somewhere underneath all that metal. He was probably stuck or too scared to try and get out on his own. And then Lacey proceeded to witness something incredible. Ruby Lucas jogged up to the old lady, obviously dressed for running – sneakers, leggings, sports-singlet, hair pulled up in a long ponytail, and a music player strapped to her bicep. They exchanged a few words and then…  then Ruby had rolled her shoulders, squared up and picked up the freaking metal monstrosity! She moved one of its corners away from the wall, retrieved the kitten, and put it back again. Lacey gawked. It felt like she was the only one who had truly seen what had happened as every other bystander just kept on moving. The old lady kept thanking Ruby as she emptied her water bottle in a few long gulps. And Lacey also kept staring up until Ruby bid the old lady goodbye and went back to her run. Yeah, that indeed was an amateur superhero, for damned sure. 
The face-to-face encounter (besides the occasional visit to the diner) happened a bit later in the one and only Storybrooke boutique. The shop was tucked into an alcove along the furthest end of the Main Street. It had no need for any fancy advertising or to stand out as the competition for this establishment was pretty much nonexistent. And the top people of the town would be shopping here anyway. Lacey rubbed shoulders with the Mayor, the new DA and Head Nurse in here. Not that it was completely exclusive. Catering only to the elite would put the shop out of business, owing to the tiny number of said elites living in the town. Thus the owner made a smart decision to be more inclusive, both in price brackets and the selection of the merchandise. Lacey had met the owner on many occasions by now. Thin and tall platinum blonde in her thirties, Margot had the looks of a model right off the catwalk, but also the eyes and attitude of a bird of prey. Naturally, she and Lacey got on like a well-matched pair. Lacey learned that Margot was the stepsister of that plain Ella girl, a recent mother getting ready to marry her own provincial 'prince'. That relation was the least interesting thing about Margot, really. But what was beneficial about being friends with the proprietor of The Midnight boutique was that Lacey got tips on when the new inventory got in. 
So on such an occasion she had run into none other than Ruby Lucas. Their chance encounter had been surprising and intriguing and promising. Though, a lot of it was laced with a dose of awkwardness. Before and after. Which, again to Lacey's surprise, only increased her interest. Pulling different reactions out of Ruby was as easy as it was to see it all on her face. Still, that first look was quite something. The one Ruby had when Lacey threw open the curtain of the changing cabin and they found themselves nose to nose. That look was priceless. Ruby had not yelped or yelled or waved her arms or even tried to attack the intruder. Her eyes became huge and she opened her mouth – but no sound came out. Ruby had all the appearance of a fish out of water, completely at a loss as to what to do with the situation. Which gave Lacey a few seconds to react first. She honestly had not done it on purpose, it was just that this cabin was on the left, behind the row of clothing racks and with another full-length mirror right next to it. Lacey always took this cabin. And she probably would have apologised for the intrusion immediately, but.. well, the view halted her train of thought right off. Lacey knew Ruby was attractive, that was clear from one cursory look, yet there was so much only a few side-glances could possibly reveal. And revealed she was, my oh my! Ruby was trying to pick out a new outfit, judging by the assortment of shirts and pants and shorts and other items waiting on the hooks inside the cabin. Very worthwhile goal, as far as Lacey was concerned. The unfortunate consequence of poor timing was that in the moment the curtain drew open, Ruby was in-between outfits. Well, unfortunate from Ruby's point of view, that is. From where Lacey was standing it was quite the lucky draw. Ruby was barefoot, standing on the carpet and clad only in two-piece lingerie. Deep-red with lace and nice detailing, it was obvious Ruby was matching it to the new items she was thinking of buying. And… damn. Lacey racked her eyes up and down Ruby’s body as if an invisible force was in charge of her eyes and head. Long, long lean legs, slender hips, the absolute flat plane of the stomach with abdominal muscles flexed in response to the shock; the lines and curves of the chest, the tense muscles of those shoulders and neck and then – finally, all the way back up to that sharply cut jaw and nose and cheekbones and those wide, wide eyes. Damn. Damn! If there was this inkling of an idea running silently at the back of Lacey's brain before, then in this moment it had materialised into an inevitable, unavoidable certainty – Lacey was going to seduce that girl. Catching herself, she closed the curtain and apologised. Instead of leaving though, Lacey kept talking through the curtain: complimenting the fashion choices Ruby was making and ranting about her own indecision with the newest additions to the boutiques selection. Whatever small spark of genius in Lacey's head prompted that course of action, it had been right on the money. Ruby came out of the cabin, dressed, embarrassed, but not completely alienated. Lacey apologised again, she was not above relinquishing a piece of her pride if that was going to get her in this girl's good graces. Amongst other things. And, after all, she was the one who barged in, if on accident.
As an apology Lacey invited Ruby for a cup of coffee, her treat, and wouldn't take no for an answer. They went to the Diner, picked a spot out of the way and sat down. Lacey had to put a moratorium on all things waitressing. She really had to since Ruby kept glancing at the girls serving food or at the entrance to the kitchen. Their conversation was awkward at first, and not just because of the mishap earlier. But Lacey was anything if not inventive and determined when it came to going after someone she laid her eyes on. It took a bit of effort, but Lacey managed to break the ice enough that Ruby felt at ease. She still caught herself staring or making a comment about something that was not about Lacey and then having to backtrack. Lacey didn't mind. Whatever that 'Belle' was to Ruby, she was important. Well, Lacey was not one to back down from a challenge. After a while in the Diner, Lacey paid the bill and they left, however before they parted ways Lacey brought up restocking at The Midnight she got a tip from Margot about. And another one was to happen in a day or two. Lacey once again complimented Ruby's taste and style, which got her an embarrassed, but genuinely proud smile. So Lacey moved on to the next part of her cunning plan. She suggested that they should go together. Help each other out. A few tips and a different view would not hurt, right? Would Ruby leave Lacey in trouble or could she help a girl out? Of course, the amateur superhero that she was, Ruby agreed. 
Lacey planned her seduction to take a date. Two at most. But she underestimated Ruby Lacas. Lacey heard something about how the people in Storybrooke changed "after the curse", whatever that meant, and how Ruby was the wild one back then. But this Ruby was a tough nut to crack. Helpful, enthusiastic, unsure of herself and a little bit oblivious. At least, to what Lacey was doing. 
The first time they met up, Lacey used the excuse of having missed breakfast to get Ruby to sit down for brunch with her before they would go to The Midnight. She knew Ruby would be concerned, and on top of that Lacey had seen this girl eat. It was a small wonder how Ruby could keep her impressive physique with the voracious appetite she displayed. They talked a little bit more and Lacey could feel that awkwardness dissipating. Yes, there were these contemplative looks from Ruby from time to time, like she was not quite entirely sure Lacey was who she was. Like there just might be someone else hiding behind an excellent sense of humor and self-assured additude. Lacey knew, of course, what it was about. But there was nothing to find by digging deeper or whatever. Lacey was not complicated. And that was all there was to it. She wouldn't hold it against Ruby. However, at some point dwelling in the past should be replaced by looking to the future. Which Lacey had grand plans for. 
After brunch they went to The Midnight and browsed the racks together. Ruby was the first to try on the new items. And Lacey made sure to show her appreciation. Even more leather pants and a sleeveless blouse or two were right on the money, very much in tune with Ruby's current style. Though, one shift dress Lacey had to veto. It could have worked with its above the knee length and being fitted just enough to tease the lines of Ruby's figure while remaining free flowing. What caused Lacey to shut it down was the colour and pattern – pale white, almost pastel and with an assortment of small birds depicted here and there without much order to it. Yes, this sort of a walking crime-scene had no place to be worn by Ruby. Lacey thought she heard Ruby murmur something about "Snow would have liked it," after she sent her to change, but Lacey dismissed it. It was about to be her turn, and she had been preparing. 
The thing was, Lacey specifically had chosen badly. She had sabotaged her own outfit selection on purpose. To both prove that she was in need of Ruby's help and soften any blows Lacey could have caused with her critique. So this time she tried on a few dresses that looked rather out-of-place on her. One black and white piece was gorgeous, but tailored to someone much taller than Lacey. So the hem ended up around her mid-calves when it should have been just below the knee and the waistline was all wrong. Lacey saw the twitch at the corner of Ruby's lips and the momentary sparkle in her eyes, but in her defence she managed to suppress the laughter and was much more sympathetic after. Another dress was just the opposite. It was black, the fit and cut was perfect, it hugged Lacey's figure in all the right places, and ended high enough above the knee to be enticing, but not too high to be inappropriate for a social function. The problem was with the designer. What possessed them to put a red heart on the abdomen area with the words "Peace, Love, Heart" written in it? What, indeed. Lacey turned this way and that way in front of the mirror, loving the reflection over her shoulder, but hating whenever the tacky sign would appear. She almost forgot her mission in her outrage at the pompous idiot from Paris or wherever the designer was from. Thankfully, Ruby agreed with her assessment wholeheartedly. There are good places for signs like that and there are bad ones. Saying that, Ruby pointed at herself and Lacey had to agree. Ruby had showed up to this date in a tattered t-shirt with a snarling leopard underneath her leather jacket. And yeah, she was pulling it off. At the end of the day, Lacey went home empty-handed, but Ruby had a new The Midnight-branded paper bag on her arm. That caused the superhero to become sad and apologetic, which was sweet, but Lacey put a stop to it right fast. There always was next Friday, right? Or was Ruby thinking of giving up on helping Lacey out? No? It's brunch on Friday then. 
Lacey had made a point of dropping by before Friday had arrived. She got take-out. Lacey used that as an excuse to rant with Ruby again about that clueless designer. She even got Ruby to make a few jabs of her own accord. And then a few days later she coincidentally was walking right past the corner just happened to be on Ruby's weekend evening's jogging route, the little things. It was a good way to start a conversation. Though, that was all Lacey did. She sure did not want to be mistaken for a stalker. Her game was of strictly consensual variety and for mutual benefit.
Friday arrived and as promised (or threatened) Lacey showed up for early brunch. They found themselves so invested in the conversations, from small talk to the rather deep dive into appreciation for vintage cars, that over an hour had flown by after brunch and they were still sitting in the booth. Finally, they left and made their way to The Midnight. Again, Lacey insisted Ruby should go first. And damn, the girl really did have great taste! Picking a winner on the first try! Ruby tried on a pair of high-waisted pants, deep dark-blue and tight-fitted. There were zippers stitched into the sides at an angle, decorative obviously – no way anyone could use pockets with how skin-hugging they were. She paired it up with ankle booties, a white crop top with a red logo and a sheer black shirt unbuttoned and off one shoulder on top. To say that Lacey could not hide her appreciation (that was way beyond friendly), would be an understatement. She looked Ruby a few times over, smirking to herself as Ruby shivered when Lacey reached up and untucked a lock of her hair from where it got trapped under the shirt. Ruby coughed in the charged silence, catching herself, then hurried into the changing room mumbling about getting the pants and top. Lacey was smiling like the proverbial cat that was about to get just as proverbial canary. It was her turn next. 
Lacey used a different strategy this time. She started out with a loser again. Though, it was only in half. The dress was cut to her figure, just about, the hem ended exactly at her knee. It was sleeveless and with a high neckline, plus the zipper ran along her side, not the back. The problem with it was that it was bisected into two parts at the waist. The top of the dress was black and soft like velvet, it was also a hair shy of being translucent. It showed some shadowy curves through the black material and left enough to the imagination, too. Now, the skirt of the dress was… a generic grey skirt. Plain and flat. The contrast between the parts of the dress was unsettling. It was as if there was a mix up at the factory and two separate designs were stitched together. Even the black stockings Lacey wore underneath were of no help. Top for the wild night at the club, the excitement of music, dancing, drinks and teasing promise of more, and the bottom for spending another nine to five at the office in a tiny cubicle. Needless to say, Lacey hated it. She loved the top, but the way the bottom part ruined it made Lacey hate the top too. Ruby sensed her displeasure and branded the dress as the devil right away. Which made Lacey more grateful than she cared to admit. This clothing try-on ploy was envisioned as nothing more than that – an excuse to get Ruby to engage and let Lacey work her seduction magic, but the more they did this – the more fun it became, the more of a genuine companionship it became. Lacey had a feeling they would be compatible as individuals, beyond just the physical attraction, but the way they clicked, fast and better than anyone else had before… that was a touch frightening. In the same way your stomach drops on a roller-coaster. Someone else might have slowed down or even recoiled completely, but for Lacey that spike of adrenaline, the threat turned to excitement. Life would not be worth living without a few regrets and rolling a hard six once in a while.  
Lacey let herself be consoled and cheered up with a contest of who could come up with a more creative insult for the designer. And five minutes later they were laughing so hard, their make-up had required some touch-up. Lacey made sure hers was impeccable again before she tried her second outfit. She glanced at Ruby checking her reflection next to her in the same mirror. Ruby was so focused on the line of her mascara, she made her lips make a perfect little circle. Lacey chuckled at the rather cute expression, gave confused Ruby a wink and disappeared behind the curtain. 
When she reappeared it was to the startled intake of breath and then the softest of "oh". 
This was her trump card for today. For this outfit she went all out. Lacey had taken off the stockings, got her legs gloriously bare – moisturised to the point that they shone with a healthy glow. Then she threw on the items that were her weapons, checked her reflection, fluffed up her thick curls – and walked out as if on a catwalk. 
Seeing Ruby's eyes become wide and her mouth hang open was excellent. Lacey would have high-fived herself if that wouldn't have ruined her entrance. Lacey knew how she looked from where Ruby was standing and she was looking good. She had a pair of black heels with a strap around the ankle on and a tan trench coat. But not just any trench coat. It was short. Extremely short, ending at her mid-thigh. And while most of it was light tan material like most trench coats, the long sleeves, the front lapels and underside of the collar were leather, black smooth leather. In combination with dark buttons, it gave the coat some amazing contrast. Lacey had tied the belt in a loop tightly around her waist. She made a few more steps, black glossy stilettos – a challenge for her balancing skills and even a little bit comfortable, but so worth it. Lacey stopped at the arch beyond the open curtain of the changing room, leaned on it for a moment. She moved her legs, gliding one calf against the side of the other, all not taking her eyes off Ruby. Who was still stunned. Lacey chuckled and advanced on her. One step, another, heels forming a single line and hips swaying. She placed her hands on the coat and gripped the lapels, pulling it that little bit open and revealing more of her cleavage. Ruby closed her mouth with a loud clunk of her teeth and gulped. 
"Hey, Ruby, remember how I barged in on you in this very changing room? I was sorry about it, but I also couldn't help noticing your taste in lingerie is simply sublime. Think you can give me a few tips?" 
Ruby's eyes snapped from darting all over her figure to Lacey's face. Now, in addition to the gobsmacked expression, her cheeks began to rosy with a blush. Lacey bit her lip and reached for the belt. Ruby took a step back. She began to babbe something about this being unnecessary and throwing her heads up, but Lacey was faster. Her nimble fingers got the coat open and she threw it off in a flash. Ruby stumbled backwards with her hands covering her face and, tripping over the little pouf, fell over onto her back. Lacey couldn't help herself. Her laughter sounded open and unrestricted. When Ruby, with her legs still stuck on top of the pouf but with her back on the carpet, chanced a glance through her fingers – she groaned and let her head fall back onto the plush carpet. Lacey laughed harder. 
There was no lingerie under that coat. It was another minidress, short enough to hide under the coat. It was black and patterned with bright red rose buds all over. The cut was deceptively simple: the dress had a plunging decolletage with the smallest over-shoulder sleeves so that most of Lacey's neck, shoulders and upper chest were open, the top of the dress flowed into a tightly fitted piece at the waist and then into a double skirt, one on top of the other. It was sexy as hell and kind of cute at the same time. Lacey liked it, even more so knowing Ruby's favourite color and the implication roses always held. Of passion. 
Lacey walked over and held out a hand for Ruby to take. Together they got Ruby off the floor. Lacey ran her hands up and down Ruby’s arms. She said how she wasn't expecting a reaction quite like that, but she wasn't sorry. She told her how it was too easy to tease Ruby and if she didn't want to be teased, she should say so now. Ruby blinked like a confused puppy, then chuckled to herself and said that she didn't mind, much. 
Lacey grinned at her, gave her a slug in the arm and said, "That's the spirit! Now how about you give me a hand? I want to try these other heels on and I'm afraid I could repeat your on-the-floor performance stepping out of these stilettos." 
Ruby obediently walked with Lacey to the mirror and another pair of heels waiting there – black and with a bright red strip going from the inner side all the way along the outer sides, from the nose to the heel. These shoes were somewhat lower in profile, though not many could compete with the stilettos Lacey had on. Holding onto Ruby's hands Lacey had stepped out of her shoes and stood barefoot on the carpet. She glanced up to offer Ruby a grateful and teasing smile, but it was in that moment that Lacey noticed something eye-opening. It was the sudden intake of breath, the slight squeeze of the hands held, the instinctual leaning just a bit closer, and finally the gleamer in Ruby's eyes, the widening of her pupils. Right then and there Lacey knew – she had found something precious, an Achilles' heel, another little thread to pull on in her mission of seduction. Lacey wiggled her toes, enjoying the feeling of the soft carpet and being released from the beauty-prison of those monster heels. She glanced up again to her utter satisfaction. Ruby wasn't looking down at her anymore. She was much more interested in studying something on the ceiling, but it was plain to see how much her neck had tinted with a rosy blush. Lacey chuckled to herself and slipped into the new heels, gaining some of the lost inches. It wasn't the time now, but she sure filed it away for the next date. So instead Lacey let Ruby collapse onto the pouf and catch her breath as she made a show of walking around and even doing a few twirls in the new dress-shoes combo. After leaving The Midnight, they laughed about the day's events, Ruby walked Lacey home and that was the end of it. 
Until it was time for the Friday the week after. 
PART TWO
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hs-is-loml · 5 months
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Another Pawn in Your Game. (c.s)
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Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Capitol!Reader
Summary: you felt betrayed by coriolanus and lucy gray's act in the capitol zoo. or coriolanus coaxes you into thinking what he did was okay.
Warnings: minor felix ravinstill x reader (one-sided). angst. manipulative snow who knows all the right words to say. they stay together in the end. UNEDITED
a/n: if you have seen my post about coriolanus before reading this, my stand does not change. and i am not trying to justify anything. that being said i do find him an interesting character to write for with his complexity!
masterlist
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You couldn’t believe your eyes from the act that Coriolanus and Lucy Gray were pulling in front of Lucky Flickerman. Introducing her. Holding hands with a district. You felt eyes of pity land on you from around the table as you were with Arachne, Felix, and Clemensia.
“Did you know that he was going to do that?” Arachne hounded on you.
Clemensia added, “Is that not cheating?” 
“I wish I knew,” you scoffed, continuing to look at the screen of Coriolanus staring at Lucy Gray with ​​narrowed eyes. “He didn’t tell me anything.” 
“Maybe it’s time you realize you can do better than Snow,” Felix grinned while you all watched as the peacekeepers dragged away Coriolanus. “Always more options around…”
“Felix, I would love for you to say that to his face,” Clemensia snickered at his poor attempt at flirting.
“Oh, please. No one would ever dare,” Arachne rolled her eyes at the two and began to get up as the bell rang. 
You walked alongside the group with Felix on your side. You felt him place a hand on your back and leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Let me know when you get tired of him, will you?”
“We’ll see about that.”
“Y/n!” Sejanus called your name from behind the group, walking quickly to catch your arm before you walked through the doors while everyone headed in. “What was that with Felix?”
He held a concerned expression, and the grip on your upper arm began to tingle. “Sejanus,” you tried to move your arm and he finally took notice, dropping his hand and muttering apologies.
“I didn’t mean to grab you that hard. I’m sorry.”
Taking a deep breath in you explained to him, “Coryo wants to make a fool out of me. You saw what he did in the cage. Felix is simply taking his chance.”
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After Doctor Gaul had left the room, you neglected Coriolanus’ attempts to have a word with you, and you continued to keep a conversation with Sejanus. You felt the irritation that radiated off his body when he noticed that you were purposely ignoring him.
“He looks like he is going to murder me if I keep talking to you, Y/n,” Sejanus quietly pointed out as he looked back and forth from you to Coriolanus. 
“He’s lucky if I don’t murder him for what he pulled,” the blank expression that was written across your face mildly scared Sejanus not knowing how you truly felt. 
“At least acknowledge him or something, Y/n,” he pushed.
“And why should I?”
“Because, because this is unlike you and Coryo,” he tried to explain but failed to give any valid reasoning to you.
You turned to your other side and looked at him with darting eyes, “Hello, Coriolanus,” you articulated the entirety of his name. It felt foreign on your tongue. 
He met you with perplexion at your sudden coldness, “Y/n/n. Dearest. What is the matter with you?” He knew that he had said or done something wrong as you gathered your things and went to Dean Highbottom to be excused. 
“How was your little songbird, Coriolanus?” Arachne teased and was aware you could still hear them before you walked out of the room. Livia continued, “Fragile, little thing she is. I do hope her death is rather quick.”
“She’s okay.”
“Did everyone hear that?” Arachne looked around the room to those who were interested in where she was taking this. “Coryo made sure his songbird is okay.”
 Coriolanus had no time for games as his mind wandered back to you, “Arachne. What is the point of all of this?” he snapped at her.
A smirk planted visibly across her face, “Is your Dearest okay, though?” she mocked him.
The realization was evident as it spread to his face. He looked over to Sejanus who avoided his stare by pretending he was focused on his paper instead. 
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“Felix, you know he has no shame in going after you once he sees this,” you mentioned knowing the rather possessive tendencies that Coriolanus had to the boy who followed you out. 
Felix hid his nervousness with a chuckle, “What could he do? I’m the president’s son.”
“I’m just warning you,” you went through your bag to look for the rose Coriolanus had given to you this morning. 
“Y/n. You don’t deserve what he did to you,” he tried to reach out for your hand but you had pulled away before he had gotten the chance to. 
Having found the rose, you glanced around for a trash bin to toss it in, “Oh, believe me. I know.”
“Isn’t that one of the roses that Lucy Gray had in her hair earlier when we saw her on the screen?” Felix observed the rose in your hand and noticed it was the same pure white as the one that was in Lucy Gray’s hair. “Is that from him?” he made the connection with the frown you held.
“Yes.” 
He bellowed another laugh as he realized the Coriolanus was found in even more mistakes. “That bastard.”
Coriolanus was searching for you throughout the academy grounds once the bell had rung. He found no luck in finding you until he passed a hallway he had never seen you go into before, and there you were standing by a pillar with Felix Ravinstill standing too closely for Coriolanus’ comfort. Though he could tell that you had not reciprocated Felix’s intentions, it didn’t help the rising jealousy that was consuming his mind. 
For a moment, his vision was red as he saw Felix take his Grandma' am’s rose out of your hands. It had taken everything in him to not launch himself at Felix as he didn’t want to be convicted of murder before the Games even started. He was already in too far. 
Your head turned as you heard a call of your name from Coriolanus, “Y/n.” Through the tone of his voice, you knew he was not asking for you but rather commanding.
Before you started to make your way to him, Felix caught your hand and pulled you back for a moment whispering in your ear while making direct eye contact with Coriolanus, “Make him pay for it, yeah? And don’t forget my offer will always stand for you.” Coriolanus stood there with a tense jaw and flared nostrils as he watched.
Felix smirked at him, seeing you walk towards his direction but going pass him, “Come along, Coriolanus.” 
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The silence was starting to get to the both of you as neither of you chose to speak a word before arriving in front of your house. Your parents rarely being home helped your situation because you figured that an argument was going to begin right as the door was closed behind you. 
That’s how it always was. The picture perfect couple in the public eye to keep appearances up than a cracked frame when it was just the two of you. 
“What was that about, Y/n?” he fumed the second the door was shut. You ignored him as you went to put your bag away in your room. “You cannot keep avoiding me here. And don’t think I am going to let go of what you did today.”
“What I did?” you talked baffled.
“You are making a joke out of us-”
“Is it fun for you?” you interrupted him, finally meeting his burning stare.
“Is what fun?” he gritted his teeth at the lack of specificity in your question.
You began to laugh maniacally and spat out, “Making a fool out of me. You already made me a laughing stock for everyone to see.”
 “Is this about-” he started but you didn’t give him a chance to finish.
“Of course, this is about her, Coriolanus!” you proclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you hold her hand? And for goodness sake, a district girl from 12 of all people! You are the one ruining us.”
“She is my tribute,” he defended.
“YOU GAVE HER A ROSE!” you yelled at him in frustration. “How do you not see a problem with that?”
“The rose is nothing compared to what you let Felix do today,” he said, enraged, taking steps closer to you, but your hand met his chest, keeping him at arm's length. “You are mine. Not his.”
“And what? She is also yours now too?” you closed your eyes as they welled with tears that you had tried to blink away. 
He moved your hand and grasped it as he stood in front of you. He cupped your cheek with his other hand and softened his tone, “She doesn’t mean anything to me.”
“And how am I supposed to trust your word?” you threw at him and saw a look of hurt flash on his face but it had left just as quick. “Everyone told me it was a mistake to be with you.”
“Do you believe it was?” he blanked, tightening his hold on your hand. 
“I do not know what to believe anymore.”
“It was an act. A farce. She needs to win,” he stroked your cheek with his thumb. “I need to win.”
Your body was tense with vexation and you spoke through clenched teeth, “Am I just another pawn in your game as well? The easiest one you can sacrifice?” It felt like your heart was ready to burst from out of your ribcage waiting for his answer. 
He brushed a piece of fallen hair away from your face and uttered, “No, you are My Queen.”
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poeghoul · 6 months
Text
hard times
in which harry is grumpy and mean and has a scary job
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word count: 3,315 warnings: angst, semi-mafia!harry, a single mention of drugs, semi-gun violence, harassment. do not read if opposed to any of the topics mentioned.  authors note: i haven’t written in years so this may be bad. inspired by "western nights" by ethel cain.
Harry met Niall at a small diner called The Vinyl booth at 9:37pm, an oddly specific time Niall gave to him, Harry thought. Niall had been interested in forming a connection with Harry, seeing as he’s the biggest drug supplier in all of northern California. Niall loved The Vinyl Booth; he loved taking his girls there every other Sunday after church. It was a warm, cozy diner, with checkered flooring and a jukebox that only worked if you kicked it in the right spot. 
“Harry!” Niall exclaimed, excited to finally be meeting with him after hearing about him for so long. Harry gave him a curt nod as Niall put his hand out for him. Harry took his and grunted as Niall brought him in for a weird semi hug that men do. “Good to finally meet ya,” Niall smiled and held the door open for him, a little bell attached to the handle sounded. Harry walked in first as Niall followed behind and stood while they waited for someone to seat them.
“Niall? What are you doing here so late?” A girl approached the two men, smiling at Niall before grabbing two menus. 
“Y/n!” Niall exclaimed, returning an even bigger smile than she had initially sent him, “just needed a little late night treat.” 
“Of course you did, come on,” she led the two to a corner booth, “I’ll be back with some coffee.” She smiled at the two and Harry noticed she hadn’t greeted him or even made eye contact with him once, which infuriated him; he was used to everyone showing him the respect he swears he deserves. 
She walked back with two small gray ceramic mugs in her hands before turning again to get the coffee pot (Harry assumed they hadn’t brewed a fresh batch in some hours, disgusting him even more than he already was with the sticky menu he was holding). She went to pour some into Nialls mug before Harry decided to speak up. 
“When was that brewed?” Y/n looked up as she stopped pouring the coffee.
“Um,” she paused, trying to remember when she last even touched the pot, “maybe around 5,” she shrugged, phrasing it more as a question than a statement. 
Harry scoffed, “and you expect us to be okay with drinking that?” he practically shouted at the girl; she was taken aback, furrowing her brows and cocking her head to the side. “Get him a new mug and brew a fresh batch, we’re not drinking coffee that’s been sitting out for nearly five hours.” he spat. Niall went to speak up and Harry shot him the deadliest glare the man had ever seen, effectively shutting Niall up. 
“I’ll get on it,” she murmured as she bowed her head, picked up Nialls mug and spun on her heel, heading towards the sink to dump out the hour's old coffee. 
“You didn’t have to shout at her, Harry,” Niall scolded the man like he was a four year old. Harry just looked at him and shook his head, going to speak up before deciding against it. 
The bell on the door rang. It was one of his security guards; he had told both (one of them planning on coming in three before 10pm, the time they closed) to observe the interaction between the two men; one to scope out Niall, and two to make sure Harry made it out alive. With what Harry did, not making it out of the diner was an option. The burly man sat down in a booth facing Harry directly. 
Y/n was at the coffee pot, pouring in new coffee grinds and pressing at the brewing options, though there couldn’t have been more than one option with how old the machine was. She looked up as the man sat down, a puzzled look taking over her features; Harry couldn’t stop staring. 
Y/n approached him, “Hi,” she smiled at him, “I’m y/n I’ll be taking care of you today, can I start you off with some coffee? I’m brewing some right now so it’ll be the freshest coffee of your life,” she joked with him, purposefully being loud enough for Harry to hear; he just narrowed his eyes at her and, instead of gazing at her, he began glaring. The man just nodded. She gave a half smile before walking back to where the two men were sat, pulling out a small notepad and pen from her apron. “Oki doki, Niall I know what you want already,” she smiled at him, a dimple forming in her cheek. She looked at Harry, “how about you? Have enough time to look the menu over?” He hadn’t even opened it. 
“No,” he said simply. Her smile faded, a puzzled look taking over her features. 
“Oh, well, do you have any questions?” She tucked her pen and notepad into a small pocket on the black apron that was folded and tied around her waist. 
“No,” he replied, a bitter tone, “I would like some fresh coffee though, if you’re capable,” he tried his hardest to contain his smirk. 
If y/n didn’t care about her job, she’d bark at him. If y/n didn’t care about the owners and how close she had gotten to them, she would’ve taken her pen from her apron and jammed it in his hand with all her might. And if y/n had the guts to either of those, she would. She cares, though, far too much to do either of those; so instead, she smiled and prayed that her eye wouldn’t start twitching. 
“Of course, sir,” she turned and rolled her eyes, mimicking him under her breath. Harry heard her, but didn’t say anything. She grabbed another mug and the coffee pot, almost burning her knuckles in the process. She placed Nialls mug before him and poured into his new one, making sure to leave room for creamer. “Room for cream?” She made eye contact with Harry. He shook his head, humming a ‘no’. She tried her best to fill it to where it would spill on him if he picked it up too quickly, and made her way to the only other patron in the small diner. The bell on the door rang again, but it wasn’t who Harry was expecting. 
Y/n looked up at the character who walked into and watched as he walked past her and sat at the counter. Nobody ever came in this late, three of them looked scary and they were all men. She felt her heart skip some beats in the worst way. Thankfully, two of the cooks were here, but they were already upset with her for seating guests twenty something minutes before closing. 
She walked behind the counter, setting the pot down on the heater, and walked to the man at the counter. She noticed his red ringed, dark brown eyes. “Hi, I’m y/n,” she started her script, “I’ll be taking care of you tonight, what can I get ya started with?” She grabbed her notepad and pen, again, hoping he knew what he wanted to eat so she’d have an excuse to go into the back, wanting to be with the men she’d known for some time, rather than three suspicious men and Niall  (who, according to her, was far too gentle to hurt a fly). 
He smiled at her; it made her stomach curl. “Orange juice, please, and a mixed cheese omelette.” She scribbled in her notepad, muttering a ‘got it’ before scrambling to the back to put the order in. 
“So,” Niall began, causing Harry to finally look away from the door the girl had basically run through. “I know you didn’t agree to meeting me here for the chorizo and eggs plate,” he joked at Harry. He gave a curt nod. Niall cleared his throat. “I know you have a busy schedule, so I’ll get right to it,” the bell on the door sounded again. Three minutes before closing, right on time. His other bodyguard walked past the two and sat at another end of the counter. Y/n peaked her head through the swinging door, looking around before setting her eyes on the last patron to walk in. She sighed before walking out and giving him her whole spiel. 
“Coffee, please,” the man smiled at her. She was grateful for someone, other than Niall, to show her some kindness in a non creepy way. She turned to grab another mug and the pot of coffee and made her way back to him.
“Long night?” she asked him while pouring into his mug. He nodded and smiled at her, offering her a thank you. Harry felt a twinge of jealousy in his chest. 
Niall continued to speak to him, though Harry tuned him out, granting him responses in the form of grunts. He watched the girl bring out the orange juice for the boy at the counter before going into the back and returning with a bowl of prepackaged creamers. “Sorry, Niall, the creamers completely slipped my mind.”
“Not a big deal, y/n, I knew you’d get around to it,” he reached into the bowl, grabbing a package and ripping it open to pour into his coffee. He did that four more times, turning the near black brown to a light, almost white shade. 
She looked at Harry, his eyes already on her, “finally decided?” he shook his head. She just stared, no emotion on her face. 
“Just get him the same thing as me, please” Niall awkwardly cut in. Y/n’s gaze softened, looking at him and smiled, before nodding and walking off. Harry, still, couldn’t stop staring; watching how she walked and moved and how she reacted to every word said to her. He also noticed how the boy at the counter did the same. Niall continued to talk at him about a deal he was wishing to make. Something about expanding Harry’s territory and getting a small cut. From what Harry heard, it wasn’t a bad proposal. 
+++
“Thanks, again, for meeting with me, Harry” Niall shook his hand, a beaming smile plastered on his face. Harry offered him a pursed smile in return. “Get home safe.” Harry nodded, watching as Niall turned to walk to his car. 
Harry turned to his, getting in the backseat, greeted by his bodyguard, Daniel, who’d entered the restaurant earlier. They sat in silence as they waited for the final of the two men, Jax, to return to the car. Harry had sent him a message halfway through their meal, asking (more like demanding) him to stay in the diner until the skeptical character had left; he left a bitter taste in Harry’s mouth and he just wanted to ensure the safety of the girl he was fascinated by. 
He waited. And waited. Bit at his nails, ran his hands through his hair, groaned many times and waited even more. 
Time seemed to go by so slowly. He stared into the window, watching the three of them closely. His left leg was bouncing up and down, an unfamiliar sense of anxiety coursing through him. Huffing through his nose, he ran his hand through his hair. He hated how he was feeling, and judging by her body language, she was feeling similarly. 
Y/n stood with the coffee pot, having had to make another batch as the group of men continued to order more and more cups throughout the night, waiting for the two men to leave so she could crawl into bed. She had been here close to eleven hours now, and was growing anxious being practically trapped in a room with two strange men she had never seen, especially since the two cooks had left for the night (she was too scared to ask them to stay, not wanting to be a bother but she desperately regrets that now).
The bigger man of the two sat glaring at the smaller one, watching his every move. Y/n could tell he was growing uncomfortable with harsh eyes on him at all times; it made her feel safer, though. 
The small one offered her a small smile, asking for the check silently. She felt a wave of relief to soon have him out of her hair. She couldn’t wait to leave; she had already wiped down all the tables, swept, asked the two men if they’d be paying cash or card, and when they both replied with card, she closed out the cash drawer on the register. She was eager, practically vibrating. Nothing planned for the night, she just couldn’t wait to step outside into the fresh air, feeling suffocated in the small space of the diner. 
She handed the small receipt to him and he immediately offered her his card, making sure to graze her hand with his. She noted how cold and pale it was. A small ‘thank you’ before a pursed smile graced her features. She ran his card through the machine, printed a receipt and handed the two over. He smiled at her, leaving a ten on the counter before walking out. 
Outside, Harry noted the movement inside the diner, watching the weird man walk out of the restaurant and around the corner to where, he assumed, was a back alley. Jax walked out shortly after, y/n walking to the door behind him to lock it before heading to the back, but he hesitated to leave, still. The lights shut off shortly after. He couldn’t make out much more. 
The door opened and, though he could barely see her silhouette, he could tell she was locking the door behind her. She stood in front of the diner, typing away at her phone. He groaned at how oblivious she was to her surroundings. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a head peeking around a corner. He unlocked his door, prepared to jump to her defense at any given moment. The man who peeked around the corner fully emerged and walked up behind y/n, his hands in the pockets of his oversized jacket. He said something to her, Harry couldn’t hear what, and she practically jumped out of her skin. She turned around with wide eyes and slipped her phone in her back pocket. 
“Oh,” she gasped, “hey, did you leave anything inside?”
He grinned at her, “no, actually was just wondering what you were up to after this.” she gulped. 
“Um,” she tried to think of something, anything, to lie about, but blanked. “I’m just, uh, gonna hang out with my friends,” she rushed out. His grin turned into a smirk. 
“You sure?” She nodded. His smirk vanished. “You’re lying.” she shook her head, a small ‘I’m not’ escaping her lips. “Yes, you are,” he stepped closer to her, “I hate liars.”
“I’m not lying,” she backed up, her breathing picking up. He stepped even closer. 
“Now you’re lying again,” he glared down at her, “must I teach you what happens to liars?” Her eyes began to well with tears. A car door slammed. A gun pressed against the boy's temple. His eyes widened. 
“Touch her and I’ll blow your fucking head off,” Harry snarled, pressing the gun even harder against him. 
“I-I wasn’t, I swear, I swear,” he barely made out. Tears began pouring out of y/n’s eyes. 
“Okay, so then tell me what you were gonna do, hm,” with his free hand, Harry grabbed y/n, pulling her behind him. She hid her face in his back and gripped his shirt in both hands, trying to focus on controlling her breathing. 
“Nothing! Nothing, I swear,” he cried out.
“You swear, hm?” he let out a breathy laugh, “Why’d you wait for her, hm? Why’d you hide back there?” The boy’s mouth just opened and closed; Harry held back a laugh. “Say something, don’t be shy. You weren’t a minute ago.”
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I’ll leave right now if you let me, I swear, I promise!” He began to sob.
Harry just pressed harder, “that’s not what I asked, though, is it?” The boy shook his head as best as he could, “then answer my questions.”
“I just, I wanted to see her.”
Harry laughed, “so you wanted to see her, and you couldn't have done it in a normal manner? Couldn’t have asked to hang out rather than hiding in a fucking alley waiting for her when you knew she’d be most vulnerable, fucking scum,” he spat out, inching his face closer to his. 
He sobbed, “I’m so sorry.”
Harry moved the gun from his temple, but not before he pressed a little bit harder. “Get in the car,” he muttered, keeping the gun pointed at him and ushering y/n with his back towards the backseat of a black Range Rover. She opened the door and jumped in before Harry did the same. He put the gun in his holster, secured under his jacket. He looked to y/n, who was shaking in the middle seat. “You okay?” She nodded, her face down, staring at her fingers picking at a loose thread on her jeans. “I’m sorry,” Harry apologized to her, anger surged through his veins and he wished he could get out and have the opportunity to pull the trigger pointed to the back of the boy's head. The car started and pulled out of the parking lot. “We’ll take you home, I’ll send someone to stay in the general area for your safety,” she looked up at him with watery eyes. 
“Okay.”
“Can you give me an address, please,” he handed the phone to her, with trembling hands she took it and typed out her address. It was a six minute walk. “How were you planning to get home?” she handed back the phone. 
“I walk.”
“For every shift?” she nodded. “I don’t like that,” he admitted. 
“It’s only, like, five minutes,” she shrugged, still not making eye contact. 
“Still don’t like it,” he ran his hands through his hair, sighing. She picked at her nails, chewing on her bottom lip. 
The drive was short, two right turns and they arrived at her apartment complex. Harry opened the door and helped her out, following her up the stairs, standing close behind her as she unlocked the door. 
“It’s a little messy, sorry,” she opened the door and led him in. He stood in the entryway, taking in the details of the decorations that filled the small space (it was a small studio apartment, big enough for Y/n, but far too small for Harry). Her bed wasn’t made, with halloween sheets and decorative pillows on the floor next to the bed, and the only chair in the apartment was covered in laundry. 
“It’s not bad,” he looked down at her while she gazed at him. Harry loved the way she looked at him and hated that he loved it.  
“Thank you for taking me home and ya know,” she smiled at him. He nodded. 
“I’ll send someone to take you to work and bring you home for the next few days, need to make sure you’re safe,” he took a deep breath in, stepping closer to her, his hand reaching up to graze her cheek, resting it as he caressed the soft skin with the pad of his thumb. He looked down at her, a glint in his eyes she couldn’t make out. His gaze shifted to her lips, his hand stilled and she tilted her head up in the slightest. 
His expression changed, he removed his hand, and he stepped back. “You’ll know when they’re here. Goodnight,” and with that, he turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him.
Her cheek felt cold. 
She missed his touch. 
And that would be all she thought about for the rest of the night. 
troubles always gonna find you baby, but so will i.
1K notes · View notes
jazzyoranges · 7 months
Text
Save a horse, ride a cowboy
Tara Carpenter x fem!reader (r is also implied to be more masculine-leaning)
Summary: Tara rides you 🤷‍♀️ no Ghostface au
Words: 3.5k
A/n: the card game they play is called “do or drink” so if you don’t understand the rules here, search it up and it’ll probably make more sense
Warnings: G!P reader, explicit sex, unprotected sex (you pull out dw), blowjob, face fucking, Tara lowkey has a size kink, R has a praise kink lol, service top!R, power bottom!T (i think? idk positions that well)
MINORS DNI!!
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Tara didn’t really feel like being at this party. Unfortunately for her, she was a victim of peer pressure by Mindy. The twin said something about “getting laid” and how Tara needed to “get some”, but in all honesty, she wasn’t actually listening
The party she was at was cowboy/southern-themed, and Tara opted to wear some plaid and a white crop top. Chad went fully cowboy, through. Tara said he looked like a dork, but his eyes were set on looking like someone from Red Dead Redemption. The brunette didn’t know how he did it, but Chad didn’t even look half bad. Tara swears he has a superpower at looking stupid and not stupid at the same time
Mindy on the other hand, did the least. The twin adorned a black shirt and a brown leather jacket with southern-ish accessories
Chad didn’t bother knocking or ringing the bell over the loud music, and he let himself, Mindy, and Tara into the house. There was a familiar smell in the house. Weed and alcohol absolutely flamed her nostrils, and she scrunched up her nose. When Tara’s eyes landed on you, she swore you were a goddess straight from Texas heaven
“Mindy.”
“I see her, Tara”
“Mindy.”
“No straight woman wears a wife beater. You’re in the clear”
In Tara’s favor, Chad yelled your name and waved you over
“Mindy, Tara, this is Y/N! She coached me back in Woodsboro. She’s also from Texas, so i invited her to show up all the fake cowboys like me” The football player slung an arm around your shoulder, and you held out your hand for the two girls to shake
“Nice to meet you two” Your accent was practically nonexistent, but certain words have you away. When your hand meets Tara’s, yours engulfs hers and she swears she can feel her heart beating in her throat
“Chad speaks well of y’all”
“Really? I’m surprised” Mindy laughs, but Tara is too busy sweating over you to engage in conversation
“I’m gonna introduce Y/N to the rest of our friend group, i’ll see you two around!”
“Have a good night, you two” You tip your hat with a wink, and follow after Chad
“So, wanna explain?” Mindy sends a knowing glance at Tara, a small smirk on her face
“Absolutely not.” The shorter girl makes her way into the kitchen, pouring herself a solo cup of whatever alcohol she can find. Tara chooses to ignore the burning sensation down her throat
“Nope, you’re going to talk right now. I didn’t even know you were into women like her”
“Neither did i, that’s the problem” Tara groans, covering her face with her hands
“What’s the plan?”
“There is no plan, Mindy. I don’t even know how to get close to her…” Eros or Aphrodite must’ve been listening real close because not a second later, she sees you being dragged around by Chad, rounding up a few people to play a drinking card game
“Tara! Mindy! Play drinking games with us? Ethan, Quinn, Y/N, Amber, Wes, Anika, Liv, a few other people and i are playing”
Mindy nods, and they follow you two to the living room, where all the aforementioned people were sitting. Some on the couch and some on the floor. You took your spot on the floor with Chad on your left, and Quinn on your right on the couch.
Chad clears his throat, and all eyes are on him. “Alright! Rules are simple. Everyone has to draw a white card, and do what it says. If you get a white card that says ‘Draw’, you have to get a black card and either do what it says, or drink however much it tells you. Make sense?”
The group nods, and small discussions are made between people. Tara is seated between Mindy, who’s talking to Anika, and Ethan, who’s talking to Chad
“Since i’m the one that wanted to play, i will graciously go first” Chad pulls his white card, and his face lights up. “War! Challenge another player to an arm wrestle. The loser must drink”
The twin gets up, and he points straight at your forehead. “Y/N! This cowboy challenges you in a duel of our arms!”
“How could i say no. I agree to your challenge, my good sir” You shake hands, and make your way to the coffee table in the middle of the room. Tara is on your right, and you give her a perfect view of your bicep
“You look nervous, Chad. Are you afraid?”
“You can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Therefore, the student always wins” he smiles at you, and your competitive side starts to bubble up
“When i win, i’ll make sure to spoon feed you your own words” readjusting your grip on Chad’s hand, Ethan makes his way over to be the referee
“Three…”
Tara notices your concentrated face, and how you bite your lip in anticipation
“Two…”
You adjust your grip once again, and Tara wonders what else your hands can do
“One!” Ethan lets go of yours and Chad’s attached hands, and they both stay in place. Tara can tell you two were pretty evenly matched
“C’mon, Y/N! Gag him!” Mindy cheers for you
“Don’t listen to her, babe. You got this!” Liv cheers for Chad
“Show him up, Y/N! You’ve got it” Tara cheers with a smile on her face, and you momentarily stop pushing before you catch yourself
“What’s the matter, Y/N? Losing already?”
“We’ll see” When you hear Tara say your name again, a new urge to win rushes through your body. In one swift motion, Chad’s hand meets the table, and those who were supporting you cheer
“What did you say about the student always winning?” You say with a wide grin on your face, and you kiss your arm in a show of ego
“That was a fluke! I want a rematch!” The twin says playfully
“Like you wouldn’t just lose again”
“Whatever, it’s your turn to draw”
You pick up a card, and you laugh to yourself. “Vote! On the count of three, everyone points to the person they think has had sex in the most interesting spot. The player with the most votes must confess their sex spot and take a drink”
“Alright! Three, two, one!” You count down, and mostly everyone is mostly pointing at Quinn
“Geez, what do you guys think of me?” She takes a sip of her drink. “And my most interesting spot was under the bleachers during his football practice”
This goes on until it’s Tara’s turn. Amber got an “All brunettes must drink” card, Anika got to be Simon in Simon Says (which Tara had to drink for losing first), and Mindy drew a card that made all of the single people drink. Luckily for Tara, you drank when Mindy pulled her card
“Your turn, Tara! What’ll you get?” Chad quickly made himself the keeper of cards, sitting in the middle as you sat on the couch in his place. Tara leans over, and she takes a card from Chad. Revealing her card, she see’s it says to draw
“Our very first ‘Draw’ card! I wonder what it’ll be” Chad grins, and Tara pulls a black card from the deck
“Spin a bottle. Whoever it lands on, sit on their lap for the next 2 rounds or both must drink four times”
Oohs are exchanged throughout the group, and Tara rolls her eyes in embarrassment. Less than a second later, Chad hands Tara an empty beer bottle. The twin takes his spot somewhere in the circle, and the brunette spins the bottle
“I’ll pray it lands on her” Mindy playfully nudges her shoulder, and Tara blushes. Neither of you knew it, but both you and the brunette hoped the bottle ended up pointing at you. It went around once, twice, three times
Slowly passing by the person to your right, the bottle points straight at you and you swear time stops for a second. Tara meets your eyes, and you swear she’s blushing when Mindy shoves her towards you
Tara awkwardly sits on your lap, moving to find a comfortable spot
You place a reassuring hand on her hip. “You know you don’t have to do this, right? If you’re uncomfortable, nobody is gonna judge you” Tara can feel your hand leave her side, and the smaller girl has to physically stop herself from letting out a whine of frustration
“I’m not uncomfortable. I just… need to adjust.” The brunette not-so-accidentally grinds her hips against yours, and she swears she hears you let out a tiny groan
It’s Wes’ turn next, but Tara can’t focus as she gropes around the couch for your hands. The alcohol in her system takes over when she leans back into you, and makes you wrap your arms around her torso. You happily oblige
“You having a good night, so far?”
Tara decides to be bold. “It’s definitely better in your lap”
Despite your semi-hard cock uncomfortably rubbing against your jeans, you try your best to learn more about Tara. Asking how her day was, what she’s majoring in, if she has any family; all while the brunette causes more friction by slowly rubbing her ass on your crotch. You have to suppress many moans as she not-so-casually grinds on you
Tara learns that you used to work on a family farm in Texas, but moved to California for college. You told her about the animals, the pumpkin patches, and looking up at the stars with your siblings
Not even noticing it’s your turn again, Chad has to remind you to draw a card. You instantly miss Tara’s heat when she crawls off your lap so you can draw a card. The game goes on for the next hour or so, and you can barely remember what you had to do after all the drinks you’ve had
You end up having to quit the game halfway through when you refuse to send a nude photo of yourself to a random number or take a drink. Tara’s card no longer applies very early on, but she actively decides to sit in your lap for the rest of the game
Amber kicks out the rest of the party-goers around 1 am, and you’ve been tasked to drive Tara and Mindy home. Somehow you’re the least drunk. Since Chad was their ride and he’s off somewhere making out with Liv, you so graciously offered to drive them home.
The ride to Mindy’s house was quiet, but it was a comfortable quiet. You tapped on the steering wheel to the soft music, Mindy was half asleep, and Tara was discreetly trying to look at you from the passenger seat. You dropped Mindy off at her place, and now you were on your way to Tara’s house. The moonlight was hitting your eyes in the right way, causing them to sparkle the tiniest bit Tara had a little staring problem
“Do i have something on my face?”
“Do you want to stay over at my place?” The brunette blurts out, instantly regretting her words. “I mean- uh, if you want…”
“Sure, i’d like to stay over. I’m pretty sure i have some extra clothes in here, anyway. Any scary dogs i should beware of?”
“Does my sister count?”
“Only if she bites” This earns a laugh from Tara, and you mentally pat yourself on the back
“Definitely beware of her. She’s staying at her boyfriends place tonight, so you’re good”
“Noted” You pull into the Carpenters driveway, and both of you get out. Grabbing an extra hoodie, shirt, and shorts, you follow Tara into her house
“Bathroom is on the left. Do you want to watch a movie?”
“Sure, you can pick”
“You’re gonna wish you never said that. Let’s watch The Babadook”
“Seriously? Dude, i used to jump like six feet in the air when the floor boards creaked in the barn”
“You’ll live” Rolling your eyes at her words, you made your way to her bathroom to change. You made sure to freshen up, even though you two were just watching a movie. The smell of buttered popcorn filled your lungs and you could faintly hear the popping kernels
When you leave her bathroom, Tara’s already changed into something more comfortable
“Do we have to watch something scary? Can’t we watch a sitcom or something?”
“Listen, you let me decide but we don’t have to if you don’t wanna” Tara finds her seat on the couch, your shoulders touching when she sits down the bowl of popcorn between you two
“But i will think you’re a pussy”
“The Babadook it is” You click play on the remote, and Tara lays her head on your shoulder. She barely pays attention to the movie, considering she’s seen it far too many times. Instead, the brunette opts to watch you and all of your reactions. You’ve raised the blanket up under your nose and leaned into Tara about 20 times, and the movie is just about halfway through
Every now and again you’d flinch in anticipation, and Tara would rub your thigh in support. You don’t know if your heart is beating due to the movie, or due to Tara practically being on top of you for the second time this night
When the movie ends and the credits roll, you can only stare at the black screen and Tara lets out a laugh
“So, what do you think?”
“I don’t think i’ll be able to sleep tonight, Tara”
“You’ll be okay” The brunette pats your cheek
“Can we watch something lighter? Like My Little Pony?”
“Of course you were a horse girl”
“Actually i was an Equestria Girls girl, thank you” You huff
“Tomato, potato, they were all ponies” Tara rolls her eyes, and smiles “I think i have another horror movie you’ll like. Well, it’s technically a trilogy”
“Absolutely not! I’d like to be able to close my eyes tonight and not hallucinate a monster leaning over me”
“There’s a scene where two girls kiss”
“…Fine.”
An hour in, the two main girls are making out in their bras, and you’re staring quite intensely at the scene. Something in the room shifts, and all of a sudden you start to feel hotter. Tara goes from rubbing your thigh to slowly dragging her hand to your crotch, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. Your breath hitches when she starts to rub your clothed cock
“A-Are we about to do the thing?” You say unsure, but the brunette is already pulling you off the couch and leading you to her room
Before you know what’s happening, Tara is guiding you into her bedroom and pushing you up against a wall. Her kisses are hungry and fast, wanting to taste every part of you. When she starts to fiddle with your shorts, you let out a small laugh at how she huffs in frustration
“Take it off, already.”
“Someone’s needy” You tease
“I’ve been eye fucking you all night. I’m not waiting any longer. I had to drag you here myself”
“I didn’t know if i was reading your signals wrong…” You mumble, and Tara hates how adorable you look. God why were you cute and hot at the same time
“I was grinding on you the entirety of those two rounds at the party”
“You said you were adjusting! I thought my lap was uncomfortable!”
“I hate how the oblivious ones are always the hottest.” Tara finally manages to pull down your shorts through shaky hands, and she feels her mouth water when she sees the small tent in your underwear
“Spider-man boxers?” the shorter girl quirks an eyebrow at you
“I didn’t think i’d have sex tonight” You suck in a breath when Tara starts to rub your cock through your boxers
“Really? You didn’t think you’d get laid tonight looking like this” Tara motions to your entire body with her non-busy hand. “Maybe i should show you how pretty you are. Do you want that, baby?” The brunette squeezes your cock; and you nod, not trusting your voice to do anything but moan
As she gets on her knees, Tara pulls down your boxers just enough to reveal your hardened dick
“Jesus, you’re big…” The brunette says to herself, but you can feel your ego boost at her words. Tara starts to lick the veins on your shaft, and you can feel her massaging your balls. Your cock is drooling pre-cum when Tara kisses your tip, and you let out a breathy moan
“Please, Tara…”
“Tell me what you want, baby”
“Please let me fuck your mouth”
“Let me adjust to your size first. I’ll let you know when you can start, does that sound good?”
“A-Anything you want”
“You’re cute.” Tara kisses your tip again before taking it into her mouth, eliciting a moan from your throat. She swirls her tongue in a way that drives your crazy. Her hands make their way around your thighs, and Tara squeezes your ass as she takes half your cock into her mouth. The brunette squeezes your balls and you hear her gag as her nose meets your lower abdomen. The sight of Tara deepthroating your cock almost makes you cum
“Fuck.” You breathe out. You try backing away to give Tara a little room to breathe but she just ends up making you thrust into her mouth, making her gag. You pull her face away from your cock not wanting her to choke, and the shorter girl wipes a little drool off her chin
“Why’d you do that?” Tara asks, a little annoyed
“I didn’t want you to run out of breath. Your eyes were watering”
“It’s nice how much you care about me. I can assure you i can handle your cock, baby. It helps you taste good”
“If it ever gets too much or becomes uncomfortable, squeeze my hand” You tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and Tara’s heart flutters at how soft you’re being despite the situation
“I promise i’ll let you know if it starts to become too much, baby” The brunette kisses your tip once again and dives right back into sucking your dick. When you look down and she gives you a small nod, your hands tangle in her hair. You start off with small thrusts, slowly going faster as Tara gets used to your size
“F-Fuck you’re amazing” Your balls slap against her chin, and Tara almost cums at how dirty it feels having you fuck her throat like a fleshlight
“Shit, i’m gonna cum, Tara…” You moan, and the brunette gives you a pleading look. You can only assume it means ‘Please cum down my throat’, so that’s exactly what you do. You release your load in her mouth with a groan, and Tara happily swallows all of it down. When she pulls away from your cock, you use your thumb to wipe away the leftover cum on her chin. Tara takes your thumb in her mouth, and licks away the rest of your semen
She gets off her knees, and gets up to pull you into another searing kiss. You can taste yourself on her tongue, and you moan into her mouth at the flavor
“Jesus, you’re still hard?”
“I have the stamina of a stallion” You shrug, feigning a big ego
“Oh, yeah? How about i ride you and we’ll see if you can handle it”
“You have such a beautiful way with words”
“I’d be mad about the teasing of you weren’t cute. Hurry up and get naked, already”
“Yes ma’am” Barely a second passes before Tara’s lips are on yours. In a flurry of heat, both of your clothes end up strewn about her bedroom. Tara pushes you onto her bed. She straddles your lap and kisses you with a new wave of confidence and fervor. When the brunette urges you to lay back, you have to actively keep your jaw closed at the sight of Tara. Unfortunately for you, she notices your staring
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer”
“Can i really?”
“Mm… maybe next time”
Your face lights up. “Next time?”
“After you take me on a date first. We can talk about the specifics later” Tara softly kisses the bridge of your nose, making you close your eyes and blush
“Right now, i want you in me.” The brunette on top of you lines up your tip with her pussy, slowly sinking down your shaft
“Fuck,” Tara takes the rest of your cock in her, and you massage her hips when you can feel her squeezing around you “You feel so good, baby”
Noticing how you moan at her praise, Tara takes note of this. She starts to move up and down, and the feeling of her around you earns a whimper from your throat. Moans are exchanged as Tara starts to ride you faster, constantly increasing her pace
“I’m close, Tar” You breathe out, letting her nickname slip through your lips
“Fuck i am too, baby. You’re so big” Her words are reinforced as she starts to tighten around your cock, and you have to use all your strength to pull out. You ejaculate your cum all over your stomach, and so does Tara. When you both come down from your high, the brunette notices how you’re still somehow hard
“Round two?”
A/n pt.2: cookie if you can guess the second movie they watch
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nottzgf · 2 months
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pairing: theodore nott x gn!reader
credits for idea: this fic was highly inspired by @colablue 's fic "theodore nott meeting you headcanons."
word counting: 779
notes: it is so fluffy oml. theo is being an adorable little love strucked puppy!! :) also, this is my first fanfic ever so don't judge hahaha. just enjoy reading it and please leave a like if you enjoyed!
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after a week of adjusting to hogwarts, classes start going again. professors were making seating plans, talking about everyone's summer, or going straight into the syllabus for this year.
it was your third period of the day, charms. and you saw your best friend walking in, you waved and signaled that she could sit next to you. before she could though, theodore nott took her seat instead. your friend looked confused, but you were even confuser. you shrugged your shoulders and mouthed an apology. she just gave an empathetic smile, knowing your problems with the slytherin boy.
at the start of your education at hogwarts, you always felt like you did something to upset theodore. he looked at you with those cold, scary-looking eyes and it made you very nervous. even your friends notice his starings and they only confirm your suspicions: theodore despices you.
your best friend took a seat a few tables away from you, and professor flitwick started his lesson. your eyes kept shooting glances at theo. he was now looking to his book in front of him, but it didn't look like he was actually reading. his knee was shaking what made you kinda of feel bad for him, but you were also trying to figure out why he even chose to sit next to you.
you kept wondering if he was finally going to confront you or at least tell you what you did to wrong him. but no, complete silence from the boy. you did feel his eyes on you from time to time like he was observing you, or maybe he was making a plan on how to kill you, because that's what it looked like to you.
the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the lesson. the professor said something about an assignment but his voice was overpowered by students packing up their bags and chairs scratching the wooden floor. "theodore, wait-" but when you looked up, he was already out of the door. "why is he so fast?" you mumbled then threw your stuff in your bag and rushed after him.
"theodore!" you yelled after him and this time theo actually heard. he turned around slowly, his cold gaze fixated on you. he didn't say anything, that seemed his thing, but he did show that he was listening. you took a deep breath and spoke softly, "did i do anything to upset you? you keep looking at me like you're angry at me. because if i did upset you, i'm so sorry!" you were talking very fast and theo blinked to process what you were sayinh. after an awkward silence, he said with a smile on his face, "you haven't done anything wrong." his voice sounded hoarse from but also very soft and soothing in some way. before you could say or ask anything else, he walked up to you and took your books out of your hands. he then started walking away, leaving you confused.
he turned around when he realized you weren't following him. he looked at you and nodded his head, signaling to follow him. you sighed and caught up with him. you looked up at him and then at your shoes, trying to suppress a smile.
theo saw your smile and didn't say anything, but he did smirk. his posture changed, conveying his newfound confidence now that he had made you smile. he walked with you to your next class without saying a word. you didn't say anything either, the silence was kinda peaceful, not at all awkward.
theo stopped once you had arrived at your next class. he tilted his head and examined your face intently. "you're intriguing, you know that? there's something about you..." he trailed off, contemplating the best way to express his feelings and thoughts. you took him out of his haze by taking your books from his hands, slightly touching his hand accidentally. you were smiling up at him and slightly blushing when you said, "thank you for walking with me. but i suggest you hurry to your own class... i don't want you to be late." theo chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "see you, theodore." you wanted to turn away but he spoke up yet again, "it's theo." you turned back and nodded, "alright... then, see you theo." he smiled and gave you one last look before leaving for his own class.
you watched him walk away before going inside of your class. you took a seat far in the back where you thought about your encounter with theo. so he didn't hate you.... he was intrigued by you. and to be fair, it made you blush all over again.
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waitimcomingtoo · 2 months
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How Do I Get You Alone? 2
Pairing: Peter Parker X Stark!Reader
Synopsis: you and Peter can’t seem to communicate effectively after the kiss
Part one
Masterlist
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“Honey, can you get that? It’s Peter.” Tony asked you when FRIDAY alerted you that someone was waiting in the lobby.
“And you want me to bring him up? Why can’t you do it?” You panicked over the thought of being alone with Peter after your last conversation.
“Because I’m the belle of the ball and the belle does not bring her own guests up from the lobby. She has other people do it for her. Plus, I don’t want Peter to see my outfit until he’s up here.” Tony explained as he adjusted his tie.
“You’re such a diva. And why do you also make yourself a girl in these scenarios?” You asked as you went over to the elevator.
“Don’t call me that!” Tony called after you. You rolled your eyes and took the elevator down to the lobby. Peter had been nervously fiddling with his shirt and did a double take when you stepped off the elevator. You smiled weakly at him and smoothed down your dress.
“Oh. Hi.” Peter said as his face reddened.
“Hi. Sorry, my dad asked me to come get you.”
“You don’t have to apologize.”
“Oh. Right.” You smiled tightly. “Well, come on in. Dinners almost ready.”
“What did your dad make?” Peter asked as you stepped into the elevator.
“Well, my dad hasn’t “made” anything since he found out there weren’t real raspberries in raspberry toaster strudels. But our chef made gnocchi.”
“Fuck yes.” Peter whispered to himself.
“What was that?”
“I said that sounds delicious.” He lied. You rode up in silence for a minute as you watched him. He was keeping his eyes on the ground and you could tell he wasn’t thrilled that you were with him.
“Look, Peter, I know you’re upset about the way our conversation went the other day and I really want a chance to explain myself.” You said as you stepped in front of him.
“You don’t have to explain anything. I understand.” Peter said calmly.
“You do?”
“Yeah. The kiss was a heat of the moment thing and you just want to forget it happened. And I am totally okay with that.” Peter said and forced a smile. It wasn’t actually how he felt, just something he had told himself to say to avoid anymore crushing disappointment or awkwardness.
“You’re okay with that? With pretending it never happened?” You asked and felt the same level of disappointment Peter had felt.
“Yeah.” Peter lied. “Why wouldn’t I be? I won’t hold you to anything you did during a high pressure situation. I think we both want to move on and pretend it never happened. So let’s just forget about it.”
“If that’s what you want.” You nodded stiffly and stepped to the side so that you could hide how disappointed you felt over hearing him say that.
“If that’s what you want.” Peter shrugged and suddenly felt unsure of his plan. He was no longer confident that he correctly guessed how you wanted to proceed.
“Is that what you want?” Peter asked quietly after a beat of silence. Before you could answer, the elevator doors opened to the dinning room.
“Peter’s here!” Tony cheered. “Come in, come in. Sit down. I hope you’re hungry.”
“Always.” Peter’s smiled graciously as he sat in the seat beside Tony.
“Aw. I know, kid. Times are hard.” Tony said sympathetically and patted Peter’s hand.
“Oh, no, not like that. I eat enough food at home.” Peter assured him.
“Aw, yes you do.“ Tony cooed and patted his hand again. Meanwhile, you were about to take the seat next to Morgan when Pepper sat down. Now the only empty chair was the one next to Peter and you were not about to make this dinner anymore awkward than it already was. Peter made eye contact with you and gave you a sympathic smile.
“Oh. Sorry, mom. I was gonna sit next to Morgan and help her eat.” You said and gestured for her to move.
“I can use a fork all by myself now.” Morgan said proudly and held up a spoon.
“That’s a spoon. I should probably just pull up a chair next to her.” You said and went to go grab another chair.
“Honey, just sit next to Peter.” Pepper said and gestured to the only open seat.
“Okay. I will. But not because I want to.” You announced as you took the seat.
“Sweetheart. Manners.” Pepper whispered to you. You took the seat next to Peter and avoided eye contact.
“I’m not being rude.” You defended. “I’m just saying that I’m only sitting next to Peter because I have no other option.”
“Have you two been spending time together? Because that’s 100% something Peter would say.” Tony laughed in amusement as you and Peter panicked.
“What? Spending time together? That’s crazy. Why would we do that?” Peter sputtered out while you nodded in agreement.
“But you went to Peter’s apartment a few weeks ago, right Y/n? You told me that when I asked you why you kept changing your clothes.” Morgan asked you.
“So you remember that but can’t remember not to put both legs in the same pant leg?” You sassed her.
“Woah. The girls are fighting. It’s okay, Morgan. Pants are confusing.” Pepper assured her youngest daughter.
“Oh, so is that why you were bugging me for his address for days? You wanted to visit?” Tony asked you, making you hang your head in defeat.
“For days, huh? You must’ve really wanted to find me.“ Peter smiled in amusement as he looked over at you.
“Oh, yeah. It was all she could talk about after the earthquake. She was begging me to find your addresses but all I could remember about it was that it was an old brick building with a very strange doorman. And that describes most apartment buildings in your neck of the woods. She eventually gave up on me and had FRIDAY track your suit down. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was trying to find you so she could go kill you.” Tony shrugged and took a bite of his pasta.
“And you didn’t try to stop her?” Peter asked him.
“I like to let my daughters express themselves however they choose.” Tony answered. “But why did you need to go to his apartment, anyway, sweet pea?”
“Because I wanted to talk to him but we never exchanged numbers so I had to drop in like it was the 1950s.” You said and hoped that would stop the conversation there.
“You never exchanged numbers? That’s not good. What if you needed to contact each other for an emergency?” Pepper pointed out.
“Yeah. You should do that right now.” Tony agreed and gestured between the two of you.
“Dad, I’m not giving him my number. We’re eating dinner. We can do it later.” You grumbled. Peter couldn’t help but smirk at seeing the brattier side of you.
“What if we forget? Come on. Just exchange now. I’ll feel better knowing you guys can reach each other in case of an emergency.”
“Fine. Here.” You sighed and handed over your phone to Peter.
“What’s with the animosity?”Tony wondered. “I thought you guys finally liked each other after the earthquake?”
“Like each other? We do not like each other. That’s ridiculous.” You insisted as Peter turned bright red.
“You don’t?”Tony frowned. “But you went on and on about how Peter protected you during the earthquake. And Happy said that you asked him to tell you anytime Peter called with updates.”
“You asked Happy to tell you if I called?” Peter couldn’t help but smile as he asked you.
“I just wanted to know if you were okay.” You asked quietly.
“I’ve been fine.”Peter shrugged. “There hasn’t been another earthquake or anything.”
“Oh, no. She asked Happy for that long before the earthquake. It was a couple months ago, right princess?” Tony asked you. You glared at him and wondered if he was doing this on purpose.
“Why would you ask Happy for updates on me months ago?” Peter asked with genuine confusion now.
“I don’t know, Peter. I don’t have all the answers. I’m not Bing.”
“Ew. Who uses Bing?” Tony grimaced.
“I do. Excuse me. I’ll be right back.” You said and abruptly left the table. Everyone exchanged looks but shrugged it off and went back to eating. Peter pushed his food around with his fork for a minute before excusing himself and going after you. He found you in your room, a place he had never been in before. You were sitting on your bed and hugging a pillow to your chest as you stared at the ground. Peter knocked on the doorframe and you jumped.
“Hey. I thought you might want this.” Peter said and held up your phone.
“Oh. Thanks.” You said sheepishly and held out your hand for him to give it back.
“No problem. You got a text, by the way.” Peter said with a smirk. You looked at him curiously before reading the text on your screen.
“How are things going with lover boy?” You read out loud with zero amusement in your voice. You looked up at Peter with an annoyed look and he just shrugged.
“That’s not about you.” You scoffed.
“Oh, it’s not? Is there a different lover boy coming over that I should know about?” Peter asked sarcastically and pointed behind him.
“No. Because you don’t need to know anything about me.” You snapped and got off your bed.
“I don’t know why you’re pissed at me. I don’t think I did anything wrong here. You’re the one who kissed me.” Peter pointed out, growing angry now.
“I know I was. And I’m so sorry because I can tell how much you hated it.” You said sarcastically.
“I hated it?” Peter laughed in shock. “You’re the one who said it didn’t mean anything to you. But don’t worry, I didn’t tell anyone about it. I know how much it meant to you that no one found out.”
“Peter, I don’t care if you told your weirdo little friend about our kiss.” You whined. “I only said that so you didn’t tell Happy or my dad or something.”
“Why would I tell your dad that we kissed?”
“You told my dad when your six piece chicken nugget had eight pieces.”
“But how would that have happened? They don’t sell eight piece nuggets. It’s either four, six, or ten. There is no eight nugget option.”
“Someone probably just put a few extra in your box on accident.”
“You sound just like your dad.” Peter mumbled.
“Can we please just get through this dinner and move on with our lives?” You sighed.
“Yes. That’s fine. I know how badly you want the dinner to end so that you never have to see me again.” Peter said with a roll of his eyes.
“When did I ever say I didn’t want to see you anymore?” You asked in exasperation.
“You’ve made it pretty clear.”
“Why are you so mad at me? What did I even do to you?” You genuinely asked him.
“You kissed me!” Peter shouted and pointed to himself. You fell silent for a moment at how desperate he sounded but then fired back.
“You kissed me back.” You pointed out.
“It’s not the same.” Peter shook his head and quieted down. “That’s not the same.”
“How is that not the same?” You shrugged and folded your arms.
“Because I liked you!” Peter raised his voice again. Your eyebrows went up in surprise as he retreated into himself.
“I liked you for years and you finally kissed me and then didn’t want to talk about it. You asked me to forget it ever happened.” Peter said quietly.
“But you’re the one who said it forget about it. You’re the one who said it was just a heat of the moment thing. You’re the one who said we should pretend it never happened. I never said any of that.” You said in a soft voice. Peter looked up at you and replayed the conversation in his head. When he realized you were absolutely right, he felt guilty for yelling at you.
“Well….yes.” He said weakly. You were both silent for a long time as neither of you knew what to say. You had been avoiding eye contact with each other until you stepped closer to him.
“You liked me?” You asked him.
“Yeah. I did.” Peter shrugged and looked into your eyes. He knew there was no point in taking it back now.
“Did?” You asked in a sad voice. “Did” meant that he no longer felt that way. Before Peter could answer you, Tony appeared in the doorway.
“Hey, are you guys gonna be eating dessert because Morgan’s been eying your cake and I honestly can’t promise it’ll be there when we go back. That girl is a beast.” Tony blew out a breath. You and Peter looked at each other for a split second before looking away.
“No. I’m gonna head out early.” Peter answered. “Thank you for the dinner, Mr. Stark. It was lovely.”
“Oh, I didn’t make it.” Tony laughed. “I haven’t made anything in months. Did you know that the raspberry in raspberry toaster strudels isn’t real?”
“Goodnight, Mr. Stark.” Peter smiled weakly at him and headed for the door.
“Night, kid. Tell your yummy aunt I said hi.” Tony called after him. You let out a sigh once Peter had left and sat back down on your bed.
“What do you think about Peter?” Tony asked now that Peter was gone.
“What? I don’t think about him.” You scoffed. “I wouldn’t care even if he broke all his legs and arms and had to wear a full body cast.”
Tony let out a little chuckle and shook his head when he heard this.
“What?” You wondered.
“Nothing. I just realized why I sought Peter out to add him to the team despite him having 0 experience and almost no discernible skills outside of being sticky.”
“Why?”
“He reminds me of my daughter.” Tony said with a fond smile. You couldn’t help but smile as well and nod your head.
“Daddy…” You began and trailed off. Tony took a seat beside you and patted your hand.
“I know, kid. I know.” Tony said with a sympathetic smile.
“Was it obvious?” You asked sheepishly.
“Yes. Neither of you are good at hiding things.” Tony replied. “Also, I watched the security footage in the lab from the day of the earthquake. I’m not sure how watching him wolf down baby carrots didn’t give you the ick.”
“I don’t know either. But it was just one kiss. It didn’t mean anything. And it’s never going to happen again. I’m pretty sure he hates me now.” You sighed and looked down at your hands.
“I don’t know about that. Did you know that every time he calls to update Happy about what he’s been up to, he asks about how you’re doing?” Tony asked you.
“He does?”
“Oh, yeah.” Tony nodded. “I wouldn’t worry about him hating you. But you do need to tell him how you feel. Annoying little nerds are all over this city, but ones like him are rare.”
“And you’ll be okay with it?” You asked skeptically.
“With you having a conversation with him, yes. But if a romance begins to bud and or blossom, I’m gonna have to have a word with him.” Tony informed you.
“Fair enough. I love you, dad.” You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder.
“Love you too, kid.” Tony replied. “Now let’s go eat some cake that someone else made.
A few days after the dinner, Peter returned to the tower and went straight to the robotics lab to continue working on something for his suit. He put his earbuds in and played his music so loudly that he never heard you come in. He only noticed you when you waved your hand in front of his face to get his attention. He burned bright pink as he pulled his earbuds out.
“Oh, hi. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. Here for another inspection?”
“No.” You said simply and Peter blushed a little at the implication that you were there to see him. You gave him an apologetic smile and he returned it to show that you weren’t there for another fight. You walked over to his side of the table and put one of his earbuds in your ears.
“What are you listening to?” You asked him.
“Oh, uh, just some indie song I found.” Peter shrugged. You pressed play on his phone and One Less Lonely Girl by Justin Bieber began to play in your ears.
“Oh. Yeah. Very indie.” You smirked and took the earbud out.
“His old stuff was really good.” Peter mumbled.
“Oh, I know. I still listen to “Somebody To Love” all the time.”
“Did you need something? Because I don’t think you came in here to talk about Justin Bieber.”
“I did, actually.”
“Oh.” Peter’s smiled dropped when he heard how serious you sounded.
“I’m kidding. Sorry. I meant to sound sarcastic but it came out really genuine.” You smiled in embarrassment.
“It’s okay. I hear thats a symptom of Bieber fever.” Peter said seriously, making you laugh.
“So, I wanted to talk about the other day. All three of ther days, actually. But it seems like you and I can’t have moments without getting interrupted.”
“Just like that girl in that Ben Afleck movie.” Peter said with a weak smile.
“What Ben Alfeck movie?”
“Girl, Interrupted.” Peter answered.
“Ben Afleck isn’t in that. Are you thinking of Gone Girl?”
“Are we gonna talk about the kiss or what?” Peter asked to change the subject.
“Yes.” You blew out a breath. “We are.”
Peter nodded and gestured to you to go first. You sighed and looked him in the eyes.
“When I came over the other day, I had a lot more to say then just asking you not to tell anyone. And the only reason I didn’t want you to tell anyone was because I didn’t want it getting back to my dad until we knew what we were. I didn’t know at that point if the kiss was a one time thing or if we were gonna be something more. I just wanted it to stay between us until I knew for sure where we stood. And I was going to tell you that I wanted to figure it out together and see where things went. But then I panicked and felt too embarrassed to explain all of that and then you looked so sad so I felt bad but then you made that joke about the seaplane and I could tell you onyl said it to make me feel better about making you feel bad so then I felt even worse and then your little friend came over and kept talking about TJ Maxx and I just had to get out of there.” You said all in one breath.
“Woah. That was the most amount of words you ever said to me at once.” Peter blinked in surprise.
“I know.”You laughed lightly. “And I’m not even done yet, believe it or not.”
“Go on. Before another natural disaster happens or a person walks in. And I honestly don’t know which would be worse.”
“Look, Peter, I never meant to make it seem like the kiss meant nothing to me. It did mean something. You mean something. I would not have kissed you if it didn’t mean anything to me.” You told him.
“So it wasn’t just a kiss just because you thought you were gonna die and needed some comfort and the only source around was your dad’s weird child friend?” He asked for reassurance.
“I did think I was gonna die.” You admitted. “I just didn’t want to die without ever getting the chance to kiss you. Which is something I had been wanting to do for a while.”
“It is?” Peter asked as you took a step closer to him and rested your hands on his chest.
“I don’t open up to people a lot. I don’t like letting my guard down. And I definitely don’t like having mushy feelings for some dumb boy that my dad found on YouTube a couple years ago.”
“Aw.” Peter said sarcastically.
“But I liked you. I have for a while.” You admitted. “And I didn’t think I could be the cool, collected, stoic bosses daughter if I had some schoolgirl crush. So I pushed it down and acted cold towards you while secretly wondering what your lips felt like.”
“And how did they feel?” Peter asked with a shy smile.
“Incredibly moisturized to the point they were almost slippery and I’m pretty sure whatever lipbalm you use has glitter in it because it was all over my face afterwards.”
“You’re welcome.” Peter smirked.
“And I’m sorry about the fight too. I had no idea how to act around you after the kiss and I kept making things worse.”
“No, the fight was my fault. I assumed you regretted the kiss and wanted to forget about it but never actually asked how you felt. I put words in your mouth and then got mad at you for them. I was just feeling emo that after all these years of pinning after you, we had a kiss that led to nothing.”
“It doesn’t have to lead to nothing.” You smiled coyly as you wrapped your arms around his torso. Peter took that as his cue to lean in and kiss you without the threat of a natural disaster looking over your heads. He couldn’t help but smile into the kiss as he put his hands on his face to pull you closer. When you pulled away, you rubbed your lips together to try to decipher the flavor of his lip balm.
“Cherry?” You asked him.
“Cherry Blossom Bliss.” He corrected. “The tube is pink and it’s shaped like lipstick.”
“I thought so.” You chuckled.
“So, what does this mean for us? Are we still keeping it a secret or should I call my seaplane guy back?” Peter asked you.
“I want to give us a try. I mean, we survived an earthquake together. I think we can survive telling my dad that we’re dating.”
“I think so too.” He grinned and leaned in to kiss you again.
“Wouldn’t it be funny if there was a tornado right now?” He asked once you pulled away. You threw your hands up in defeat and left the lab entirely.
“Come on.”Peter called after you. “It would be a little funny.”
Tag List 🏷️
@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling
@tom-hollands-wifey
@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings
@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101
@peterparkoure
@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr
@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland
@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​
@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant
@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger
@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie
@maybemona
@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom
@pandaxnienke
 @officialsimppage @itsemohours @preeyansha
@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85
@olixerwxxd @leilanixx
@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940
@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing
@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr
@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu
@ciarahollands
@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy
700 notes · View notes
baby-yongbok · 1 month
Text
Ex : Part II
Hwang Hyunjin x Fem!Reader
⇝ Genre: Angst then Smut then angst again. Dirty Drama.
⇝ Summary: There's only one thing on your mind after 'welcoming' Hyunjin back into your life.
⇝ Warnings: Themes of Cheating, Arguing, Oral sex, Hyunjin is toxic - the manipulative type - and he seriously thinks he did nothing wrong. (I think that's all, let me know if I missed anything!)
⇝ Word Count: 3.2k
⇝ A/N: SO MANY of you wanted a part 2 to this so I tried my best + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡ I hope that you enjoy the drama! 💕
✧ Part One ✧ Masterlist ✧
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It took you a week. A week of crying and screaming, a week of avoiding your friends, a week of him ignoring your calls for you to realize that Hyunjin has you fucked up if he thinks that you’re going to let him get away with what he put you through. At first you just wanted to talk to him, you thought that maybe you could convince him to cut Yara off. You thought that you could change him - how cliche. You called him for three days and when you got sick of getting his voicemail you called his best friend, Jeongin. He was surprised to hear from you but he was even more surprised when you told him everything that happened. 
“Are you fucking serious?” For the first time since Hyunjin left you crying on your bedroom floor you let it all out. You told Jeongin every dirty detail of the encounter. You cried and he was there for you, he did what Hyunjin hasn’t done for months. ��Is there anything that I can do? Anything you need?” 
The line fell silent as you processed his question. Your brain is telling you one thing while your heart is telling you another. You sigh as the two battle for dominance over what comes out of your mouth next. You’ve let your heart make all of the moves for the past three days. You’ve cried and you’ve screamed all in favor of lifting the crushing pain off of your chest for an hour or two. Now it’s your brain's turn to decide and it only wants one thing. 
“Ya know there is something that you can help me with.” Your heart pleads for you to choose something less drastic, less dramatic but your brain yells for it to shut up. Why should we let Hyunjin have all the fun? “Anything, you name it.”
“Revenge.”
Hyunjin came to your place four days after you spoke to Jeongin. He had cherry red roses in his hand and an apology plastered on his face. His eyes were pleading with you before he could even open his mouth but to his surprise you hugged him. You held him tight and smiled, taking the flowers and making a home for them in your favorite vase. He was stunned to say the least but he didn’t comment. He needed you. His ex did exactly what you knew she would, she took all that she wanted from him and the second that she started to get attention from somewhere else she acted like he didn’t exist. 
He tried to be the boyfriend that you’ve been wanting him to be over the next couple of weeks but he couldn’t seem to get a hold of you. Each and every time that he’d plan a date or show up to surprise you, you were already out or you were leaving to meet with your friends. You barely answered his texts and he’s more than positive that you’ve been sending him to voicemail for the past week. It’s been a month of him putting up with you blowing him off and he’s sick of it.
He decided to show up at your place two hours before your plans to talk to you, maybe he can get you to stay home and spend some time with him tonight. He misses you more than you could even imagine and he thought that you’ve been missing him too. Shouldn’t you be dying to spend time with him? 
His face drops when he gets to your front door and his key doesn’t fit into the lock, did you change it? He rings the bell, tapping his foot anxiously as he waits for you to open the door. His eyes meet yours when it swings open and you smile at him, welcoming him in. 
“My key didn’t work.” He comments as he kicks his shoes off.
“Really? That’s odd.” You shrug as you make your way to your bathroom. “I’m gonna shower.” You call to him as the bathroom door closes behind you. The click of the lock draws a sigh from Hyunjin. Not even a kiss or a hug? Just a friendly hello like you’re not even dating. He drags himself to your bedroom and throws himself on your perfectly made bed. His thoughts project onto the ceiling as he stares at it. He feels like he’s going crazy, why are you acting so weird? No affection, barely talking, barely hanging out and you’re always on… Oh no. He sits up quickly, his eyes dart around the room until it finally lands on what he’s looking for on your bedside table.
Your Phone.
He glances over at your bedroom door before grabbing it. The screen lights up and a picture of you and your friends presents itself to him. That’s funny, wasn’t your wallpaper that picture of you two from when you went to the aquarium for your second date. You always said that that was your favorite picture. When did you change it?
He glances towards the door again and swipes your screen, his brain is busy thinking of possible password combinations but there is no password. His brows pinch together in confusion, you always have a pin on your phone. He decides to worry about that later and quickly starts searching all of your apps. He goes from your instagram to your snapchat but there’s nothing. Just a bunch of reels being sent between you and Jeongin, the last person you sent a picture to on snapchat was also Jeongin. How can his best friend have time to talk to you but he doesn’t have time to text him back? He’s called him an unimaginable amount of times over the past month but he hasn’t heard a single thing back. His finger hovers over your text messages for a second too long. What if he doesn’t like what he finds? What if you’re cheating on him? How could he handle a betrayal like that? With one more quick glance towards the door he taps the app and it opens up to a conversation. Hyunjin’s heart drops when he reads the name at the top. 
“What?” An incredulous sigh escapes him as he starts scrolling to the top of the conversation. Pet names are being thrown left and right, plans are being made every single day and there are back to back facetime calls in the dark hours of the night. 
Hyunjin’s heart is pounding in his ears and his fingers are moving so fast that he didn’t even realize that he went into your shared media. He freezes and his heart drops to his ass as he takes it all in. Nudes, videos, everything that he could imagine, all of you and his best friend. All of you and Jeongin. He opens a video and his mouth goes dry at the lewd sounds that fill the room. He’s fucking you from behind with a fist full of your hair to keep your head up. You’re drooling and moaning and Jeongin is smiling, he’s fucking smiling at the camera. His shirt - wait a minute - that’s not his. Hyunjin’s eyes go wide as he studies the fabric, his best friend is wearing his clothes while he fucks his girlfriend? Unbelievable, this can’t be real.
He quickly exits the video and scrolls through your pictures. You and Jeongin in the car, in your bedroom, your living, you on your knees and him on his. Hyunjin doesn’t even bother to look at the door to make sure you aren’t coming. He can’t hear anything but the thoughts racing through his head. His finger slips and another video opens. The sound of skin against skin echoes through his ears as the video plays. Jeongin is shirtless, fucking you in front of your bathroom mirror. Actually, he’s naked, did you two shower together? Hyunjin balls a fist in the blanket under him as he watches the video.
“Say it again, baby, say it to the camera.” A broken moan escapes you as you try to follow Jeongin’s order. “Y-you’re so much better than him, fuck me so good, Innie.” Hyunjin swears that his heart broke at the sound of you. Why would you say that? You don’t mean it do you? What did he do to deserve this?
He pauses the video and drops your phone against the mattress, your texts stare back at him and he can’t help but to scroll. “That’s not yours.” He jumps at the sound of your voice and you laugh. You wander over to lazily flip through your closet with a towel wrapped around your hair and your rob loosely tied around your body.
“What the fuck is all of this?” His voice is small, much smaller than he meant for it to be but you can hear the heartbreak laced in it. You almost feel bad for him. But that’s your heart speaking, she’s not in control right now. “You’re fucking Jeongin?”
You pick out a dress and move to your mirror, you tilt your head as you hold it against your body. “Think this is too much for a dinner date?” Hyunjin scoffs, moving to stand from your bed.
“Answer me, tell me that everything that I just found is fake. Tell me that you didn’t betray me.” He has some nerve talking about betrayal. You face him, staring back at him with faux sympathy. “I was lonely when you left, what was I supposed to do?” 
“Wait for me to get back.” You turn your attention back to your closet but he calls your name before you can pick out another dress. “You haven’t been going out with your friends have you? You’ve been with him. What in your right mind possessed you to fuck my best friend?”
“Do you really care, Hyunjin? Do you really want me to tell you? Cause I’ll tell you everything but that’s not what you want to hear, is it?” He watches as you slowly step towards him, like a vixen with her eyes set on a prize. “You wanna hear me say that I love you. You want me to say that I’ll stop seeing him because I need you.” 
He’s stuck in place as he watches you, heavy breaths passing his parted lips as you read him like a book. That’s exactly what he wants, he wants you, that’s all he’s wanted for the past month. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes.” His voice is a mere whisper once you reach him, like he’d scare you away if he talks too loudly. “That’s what I want.” He shudders when you bring your hand up to cup his cheek. 
“Are you touch starved, baby?” His soft gaze pours into yours but he doesn’t recognize the look in your eyes. It’s not what he wants but he’ll gladly take it. At least you’re looking at him. “Didn’t your ex touch you while you were away?”
His heart sinks and a smile creeps onto your lips. “She - she did but -” You tsk, cutting him off before he could stumble over his words further. 
“She didn’t make you feel like I do, did she?” He shakes his head, guilty eyes staring back into yours as you reach down to palm him over his sweats. “Is that why you’re back? She didn’t take care of my Hyune?”
“She’s not you.” His breath is heavy and his eyes roll back as he answers with a thick groan. You run your fingers over him with expert precision. You’ve always known what to do to get him going. “I want you, not her. Always you.”
“Untie my robe.” You whisper and he quickly obeys, fumbling with the loose knot until the fuzzy fabric falls open and reveals your naked body to him. “Wanna show me how much you want me?” He leans forward to catch your lips in a kiss but you dodge him before he can. A disapproving whimper escapes him and you puff out your lip in a fake pout. 
“Gotta be patient, my baby. Can you do that?” He nods, whimpering out a pathetic ‘yes’. His eyes follow your frame as you sit on the edge of your bed. Your eyes wander from his down to the floor in front of you and back up again. He quickly follows your unspoken instruction, falling to his knees in front of you and drooling when you part your legs before him. “Show me.”
Hyunjin latches onto your core like a desperate puppy. His tongue wastes no time exploring every inch of you that he’s missed. Hums and moans vibrate through him as he tastes you and you match each sound with your head thrown back and your fingers laced in his hair. At least he remembers how to eat your pussy the way that you like it, though you must admit that you’ve gotten used to Jeongin’s mouth on you. 
Your bed creaks as his hips buck against it in a desperate attempt to feel half as good as you do. “Fuck, come on, Hyune. Don’t tell me your best friend eats my pussy better than you.” He groans in protest, hooking his arms around your thighs to keep you open while he works against you. You gasp in pleasure, so he’s competitive? He swirls his tongue in imaginary patterns, sliding it between your folds as he takes turns sucking on your clit and fucking your pulsing hole. His hips grind restlessly against the edge of your mattress and desperate grunts fill the air once they vibrate through your core. 
“You missed me didn’t you?” You pull him back with your fist in his hair, his swollen lips glisten in the low lamp light and his eyes are glazed with fuckout desperation. “Yeah, missed you.”  He’s too deep into the brain fog to hear just how pathetic he sounds but you’re more than happy to take it all in for him. A strangled moan escapes you as Hyunjin's tongue explores deeper. You grip his hair tighter as he laps up your juices, and you arch your back to meet him. 
His thrusts against your mattress become more desperate as laps at you, The mess of your drooling cunt makes a mess all over his chin as he works desperately to get you to the edge but that’s not the part that gets you close. It’s the thought of him hoping and praying that hi tongue is fucking you better than Jeongin ever did and as you get closer to coming undone you find yourself clenching at the thought that his best friend does it better. “Shit, Jeongin, I’m gonna cum.” 
 Your orgasm rips through you with a loud moan and your body shudders in pleasure. You hold Hyunjin's head in place against your core as his tongue continues to work diligently in an attempt to help you ride out your orgasm. Once you’ve come down from your high he pulls back slowly, a single string of spit still connecting him to your cunt.
“What did you call me?” He mumbles, not even bothering to wipe his mouth clean. You stare down at him with not an ounce of care in your eyes. 
“Don’t remember.” You pull your robe closed and slide from in front of him to pull yourself up to your feet. “And I don’t care.” Hyunjin’s heart dissolves as he watches you shrug and wander back over to your closet.
“What are you doing?” He mumbles and you scoff.
“Will you stop with the pitiful tone?” He scrambles up from his knees quickly, a surge of anger running through him. 
“Come on.” He stalks over and wraps his arms around you, leaning in to kiss your neck but you push him away before he can. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“I have a date to get ready for.” You flip through your clothes and it’s only now that he notices the empty space in your closet. “Where are my clothes?” 
“I told you to take all of your shit last month.” You shrug, pulling out a dress and holding it against your body in the mirror. “You didn’t take it so I gave most of it to Jeongin. Thought about burning the rest but I donated it instead.”
He watches you silently, jaw hung slack in a frozen state of disbelief. “Are there fucking cameras in here?” He looks around, half desperate for that to be the case. “Is this a joke?”
“The only joke here is you. Did you think that you could come back here and I’d act like nothing happened?” A venomous laugh erupts from your chest. “Be fucking forreal.”
“But we just fucked, I just ate you out why would you let that happen if you’re still going to see Jeongin?” 
“You got a phone call last time. You owe me, remember?” Hyunjin can’t decide if he should be livid or desperate. He wants to yell and curse you out for being so ridiculous but at the same time he wants to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness. He had hoped that you understood what happened a month ago. He thought that he could count on you to see that he only did what he had to do. Yeah he cheated but if you really loved him you could move past that. 
“You’re excused. I need to get ready.” You push past him, bumping your shoulder with his but he grabs you by the waist before you can get too far, pulling you against his chest. “Don’t be like that, angel.”
 His hands run smoothly up your side, taking in every curve of you. “I know I upset you but you can’t act like you don’t want me. What happened to you forgiving me?”
His lips brush over yours slowly as he whispers. “I want you so badly, I wanna be with you tonight. Stay here with me.” You smile against him as the towel containing your hair slips off of your head and your damp curls curtain around the two of you. You run your hands up his chest, taking in each and every toned dip before you whisper back. “Get out.” You peck his lips and push him away from you with a smile.
“You’re making a mistake.” He pleads with wide eyes blown with anguish. “He doesn’t make you feel like I do, you know that.” Your ringtone bounces off of the walls before you get a chance to answer him. You reach across your mattress and smile when you see Jeongin’s name.
“You’re right.” You shrug, swiping to answer the call. “He makes me feel so much better.” Hyunjin’s jaw clenches as you press the phone to your ear with a smile. You greet his best friend with a sweet tone that used to be exclusively for him. Hyunjin is practically invisible to you as you buzz around your room grabbing accessories and planning your outfit. It isn’t until he grabs your wrist on your way to your vanity that you look at him again.
“Please don’t do this.” Jeongin’s voice is heard from the receiver before you can answer the man in front of you.
“Who’s that, baby?” He asks, and you smile as Hyunjin deflates.
 “No one.” You shrug off Hyunjin’s hold and he deflates as you passively wave him away. “That’s no one.”
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Tag List: @dessianna1, @foxytoxxic, @snxfall (If you asked to be tagged and you weren't it's because you did not have your age in your bio. You MUST have your age in your bio to be tagged )
501 notes · View notes
sswiftiestars · 8 months
Note
Professor!anakin aaaaaaa
professor!Anakin X fem! reader
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warnings: SMUT. kinda big age gap (12 years. ani is 32 you’re 20), more of a jerking off headcanon, sexting, dilf! anakin is mentioned, padmes death at birth mentioned.
a/n: idk how college works so if it doesn’t makes sense, that’s why. sorry babes :). also, i imagine him to look like a mix of clay beresford and Stephen glass in this.
not proofread
You sit in your english class, in your sophomore year of college, as your teacher, Mr. Skywalker, was speaking in the head of your class.
you often found yourself staring at his dirty brown curls a lot, instead of listening to whatever dumbass lecture he was babbling about.
You’d also think about how it’d feel if his hands were knuckle deep inside your pussy, but, you also thought about what it’d be like for his hopefully huge cock to be down your throat. you thought about it as you endlessly fucked your self with your slim fingers, whining to yourself because it wasn’t enough.
and..little did you know, so did he.
..Anakin isn’t a…romantic guy, that’s for sure. during sex, i mean. he takes what he wants. Anakin would rather face fuck a girl till she cries, rather than taking it slow and placing soft kisses on her neck.
Sure, he can do that, but he doesn’t like to.
Anakin often stayed up late at night, fucking his fist like there was no tomorrow. he usually thought of his late wife, Padme, who unfortunately passed during child birth.
but..that changed. ever since he saw you for the first time in his class..everything changed.
“y/n, are you listening to me?” your professor asked you, your class all turning their heads at you.
you felt anxiety bubble up in your head, and chest.
you clear your throat, “yes sir.” you murmur out. Anakin nodded back at you with a slight smirk before returning back to his lecture.
Your best friend smirked at you from across the room. She knew how infatuated with him you were, because you’d tell her all your unhinged thoughts about him. you rolled your eyes jokingly in response, but deep down, you knew you’d be fucking yourself thinking about that stupid smirk of his later.
When the bell rings, you pick up your stuff and right as you’re about to leave the classroom, Anakin calls out to you.
“Not so fast, Y/n. cmere.” anakin says with a slight grin on his tan and freckled face. you wasted no time and walked over to his desk and tilted your head slightly out of curiosity.
“Listen, y/n, your grades are slipping.” he reminded you, anakins face turning serious.
“I- yeah, i know..” you mutter back in response, your face turning a bit red out of embarrassment.
“Do you need to start staying after class?” Anakin cleared his throat and leaned closer to you.
“Yeah, maybe.” you said, your breath hitching ever so slightly at his request, “—but not today, i have some things i have to do.” you lied, to tell the truth, you really needed to get to your room as soon as possible so you could fuck your self silly.
he smiled, “Alright. sounds like a plan.” Anakin nodded, “i know this isn’t the most professional thing to do, but here’s my number so we can schedule a tutoring session.” he murmured with a chuckle as he handed you a post it note with his number on it.
You quickly took the post it and nodded, “Thank you, Sir.” you said as you walked out of the classroom.
Later that day, well, night now.. it was around 8:00pm when you texted your professor,“Hey! it’s y/n, just letting you know this is me, text me when you think of a day we can schedule a tutoring session next week!”
he wasted no time at all with a quick response:
“hello, y/n! i’ll make sure to let you know. Side note; start paying attention in class instead of daydreaming. it might help you out a bit.”
you rolled your eyes to yourself, “I don’t daydream. not at all.” you text back teasingly, but making sure to keep everything as normal as possible, since he was your professor, and all.
“keep talking to me like that and you’ll see what happens.”
oh.
Oh.
“is this fucker flirting with me, or am i delusional?” you say to yourself.
“i’ll talk to you however i want. over text, at least.” you respond, hoping you’d get a bold text back.
well, your dreams came true.
“I think that mouth has better uses then talking,y/n”
“Oh?” you replied, not expecting his response like that at all, “andddd what would those better uses be?” you added.
“Probably sucking my cock.” Anakin texted you, trying to ignore the absolutely huge hard on that was straining his sweatpants.
your jaw dropped to the floor and you turned bright red. why would he say that? he’s your teacher, not your boyfriend.
“that’s not very appropriate.”
“I don’t care if it’s not “appropriate”, sweetheart. You want me and i want you too.” Anakin texts you, and starts to pull his hard cock out. Before you really get the chance to reply, he sends you a photo of him palming his hard cock, leaking pre-cum from the pretty tip.
You bite your lip when you look at the photo, feeling yourself grow wet at the sight of his huge length.
“See how bad i want you?” Anakin taunts over text message.
You waste no time to quickly take off your clothes, leaving yourself in your lace bra and underwear. you take a photo of your tits and some of your hips.
You send the photo to him, and the second he sees it, Anakin immediately starts to pump his cock.
“fuckfuckfuckfuck-“ he moans, as he looks at the photo. “Gonna’ cum all over your tits-“ Anakin mutters to himself, and let’s out a little whimper. Anakin continues s to fuck his fist and after a couple more minutes, he cums on his phone screen, onto your tits.
He quickly realizes what he’s gotten himself into, and a wave of guilt washes over him.
“Fuck. i’m gonna get fired for this.”
2K notes · View notes
erensonly · 2 months
Text
thinking about sweet data analyst!reader being quiet as a mouse always scaring the boys. scares them so much they think abt getting her a bell. lets get into some backstory bc this may be a mini series 😈
contains: extreme fluff, ooc writing, love is used as a pet name, no pronouns used, references to DV pls read at your own discretion.
you were the new data analyst for the 141. before, you only worked with Kate, gathering and analyzing data for her but she thought you would be so much more helpful to the task force since their old analyst had retired. you were hesitant at first, not really wanting to be around a group of men. why should you leave your comfort zone?
this did not work with laswell. she had taken you in after you stumbled to the gates of the base, attempting to stop crying to give them an explanation and sporting bruises on your face and hands. luckily she had been there to meet with john when she had heard the guards complaining about a crying woman refusing to leave. she had helped you in more than one way. even allowing you to stay with her until you could find a job and move by yourself.
when she had found out you knew your way around computers, her face lit up like a christmas tree, telling you she had the perfect job for you. you were hesitant to take the job, knowing the work she did involved the military, you didn't know if you wanted to take the job. you had tried to convince her that it was fine, but once laswell has her mind made up, that's it.
thats how you ended up here, wanting oreos. you didn't mean to scare them at first. they were a little scary and you wanted nothing to do with them at first.
you just wanted the oreos but ghost was in the way, facing the opposite way with his head in his phone. you stood there awkwardly at first,not wanting to ask the big man to move but you really wanted those cookies. you stand there for a bit debating if you'll wait for him to leave the room or grow some balls and just ask him to move. you decided on doing neither.
you made your way towards him as quickly as you could; the plan was to just reach up and grab the chocolate cookies so you could go back to your desk before ghost could say anything. trying to get closer to the cabinet, you find yourself pushed up against the counter, a large hand wrapped around your wrist. when he realized it was you, he let you go with a big sigh. "scared the shit out of me. when did you get in here?"
"uh.. not too long ago." that was all you could muster, the man was too intimidating. you awkwardly shuffled towards the cabinet with the cookies and reached up to get them. mission accomplished, you thought to yourself. slithering back to your desk, you leave ghost stunned and only able to mutter a quick "bloody hell" before going back to his phone.
----
the next time you interact with the 141 outside of working it's with gaz. from the small conversations you had, he seemed very nice with a kind smile and calming aura. this time you were trying to make your way to price's office to give him a manila folder with the information he requested. you had walked to the door but heard talking, maybe he was busy. you decided that you would wait to give him the folder so you wouldn't have to speak to whoever was in the office.
it felt like time was going so slow and by the time the person had walked out, you were leaning against the corner of the wall, head against the wall in a way that you had have to almost round the corner to be able to see you. you looked up, and the man look like he just had a heart attack. clutching his chest like he was clutching his pearls and purse and breathing heavily. "Jesus, love,gotta say something. have you been waiting out here long? you could've just came in, y'know?" all the questions were becoming overwhelming when you just gripped his lips to silence him.
it took his look of surprise and a bit of thought to realize what you did. you had just grabbed the lips of a soldier. not just any soldier but a heavily decorated soldier who was apart of The john price's task force. he could kill you faster than you can say you're sorry. "oh my god, i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to, you just kept talking and i didnt know what to do. please don't kill me." you had finished your mini rant only to see him doubled over in laughter. he was in tears.
"did you just silence me?" he asked between laughs. you didn't understand what the hell was funny, this man is going to kill you. while he was still laughing and trying to get soap on the phone, you tiptoed into price's office to give him the folder, telling him that if he found you dead on base it was gaz before scurrying out of his office. john was left looking confused because he had just heard kyle laughing a few seconds ago.
----
next was soap. sweet, sweet soap. he genuinely did his best to welcome you into their group, but you didn't really seem interested. he eventually just took any interaction you two had and replayed it in his head over and over again. you were just so sweet, how could he not? you still got lost on base sometimes since everything was one monotone grey and everything looked the same. and it was just your luck that the only people around were new recruits and other people you never spoke to. turning, you see soap heading toward the mess hall.
when you sped up to catch him, he's surprised. he even did that cartoon cat jump they do before running off. he started saying something in a language you don't understand when you cut him off. "not sure what you're saying but i agree. anyway, where's the gym? i need to ask ghost a question." he was shocked to see you turn around and wait for him to lead the way. he couldn't help the smile that came across his face. such a hasty girl; you always said everything you needed to say as fast as you could before turning away, giving him a look at allat movement back there.
he laughed again before helping you find ghost. and you still don't get why these men find you so funny. there is nothing funny about them being so scary.
----
lastly, we got my husband john. he was made aware of your situation and why you acted the way you did before you started working under him. he couldn't help but think you were a sweet, hard working little thing. never with much to say, and so skittish. he may have told you that he doesn't know how to access the files on his computer just so he can see you come to his office with a folder. is it a crime to want to see such a sweet face?
john had told you he would like to see you after debriefing and that he would just let you know. but you had already finished your work of the day an you spent your free time playing whatever games you could access on your computer. you eventually started to feel restless so you decided to sit in price's office until he got there. there was a couch in a corner of the room, worn but comfortable. you could imagine the boys laying on the couch talking mindlessly to john.
you had sunken into the corner of the couch, curling up in a way that you would have to step completely into the office to see you sitting there. it had been a good 10 minutes of sitting in silence before you heard footsteps approaching the door. you couldn't hear exactly what was being said, but it sounded like john was on the phone. he, not long after, walked into the room, holding his phone between his shoulder and ear with a stack of folders in his hands.
"-exactly. yeah i'll be on it right away. bye." and as he's turning around, you're sitting up straighter and he yells. and i mean one of those old people, "help i've fallen" type of yelps; and he drops his files on the floor. you just give him a blank stare.
"good God. when did you get in here?" you just shrug, brushing over the question. "what was it that you needed from me sir?" that's when he knew, you were going to be the death of the 141. literally.
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rougecreator1 · 1 month
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Beauty is Pain
|| Regina George x female reader
|| Warnings: gossip talk, hookup mention, Regina's got an attitude, light swearing, y/n use
|| Sumary: Regina's high heels have been hurting her all day. Reader notices and offers that they switch shoes.
Requests open!
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~~~~
Regina would never admit it out loud, but she was exhausted. Walking around school all day in heels was never easy. Sometimes she might sneak a break in the bathroom and take them off for a few minutes. But she hasn't had the chance to do that yet. Well, beauty is pain. Isn't that what they say?
At the sound of last period bell, Regina headed for the cafeteria. Her and the rest of the plastics (including you) had planned on skipping and going shopping. Karen, Gretchen and Y/N were already seated at their usual table. Talking about any and all things gossip related as they waited for Regina.
"Oh my God! Did you hear that a jock hooked up with an art freak?" Gretchen asks, grinning as she talks about the latest gossip.
"Ew, seriously?" Regina makes her presence known as she joins them at the table, taking a seat next to Y/N who smiles and gives the blonde's cheek a kiss.
"Yes! Oh my God! It's been like all over snapchat private stories." Gretchen nods, taking out her phone to show Regina the stories," seriously not fetch."
"Gretchen! Stop trying to make fetch happen." Regina rolled her eyes, Y/N would raise an eyebrow at the blonde. Noticing how she seemed to be in a mood. Not wanting to ask out right with the girls there, she takes out her phone to text Regina.
Y/N: 'Are you okay?'
Regina glanced down at her phone in her hands when she felt it buzz. Looking back at Y/N who was watching her with a concerned gaze. The blonde scoffed and texted back.
Regina: 'Fine. Obviously 🙄 shut up'
Y/N read the text and sighed. She knew Regina well enough to know she wasn't actually fine and that her attitude was the result of something. She just didn't know what; Regina's attitude was not going to scare her away from finding out.
After chatting a little more, the girls all got up and started heading towards the front doors of the school to go shopping. That's when Y/N noticed Regina was walking slightly different. Almost like she had a slight limp? Everything fell into place and made sense.
Without warning, Y/N grabbed Regina by her arm and pulled her off to the side as Gretchen and Karen went to Regina's jeep. Too busy chatting with each other to notice Y/N and Regina stopped following.
"The hell are you doing?" Regina snapped, looking at her with a look mixed with frustration and confusion.
"Switch shoes." Y/N replied, in a tone that wasn't quite asking or demanding. It was somewhere between the two.
"Excuse me? No, I'm not wearing your sneakers." Regina folded her arms as she stared down Y/N. Y/N, however, wasn't intimidated. Something Regina found awfully annoying." Plus, you can't even fucking walk in heels. You'll just embarrass both of us."
"I wasn't asking, Gina." Y/N replied, standing her ground on this. She wasn't going to let the blonde torture herself just to make a fashion statement.
Regina was taken aback. She wasn't used to being talked back to. Who in their right mind would dare talk back to Regina George? Clearly, Y/N would. Whether it was stupid or brave, Regina didn't know. Part of her couldn't help but feel impressed by her girlfriend's stubbornness with this. Usually she would argue with her, but the blonde wasn't in the mood. So (very reluctantly) she agreed. Not without groaning and rolling her eyes first, though. Obviously.
Regina reached down, one hand on Y/N's shoulder as she took off her heels. Y/N smirked, feeling pretty proud of herself for getting Regina to agree. She places her heels in Y/N's hands.
"Thank you." Y/N takes off her own shoes and hands them to Regina, the two then put on the shoes. Y/N struggling more than Regina as she nearly falls over once both feet were on the ground. Instinctively, Regina caught her before she could and scoffs. Though she makes no effort to let go of her. Even going out of her way to link their arms together so she could support her girlfriend. Y/N raises an eyebrow at Regina when she does this.
"Don't even. I'm just making sure you don't embarrass us both." Regina mutters, glaring at Y/N. Though her tone didn't come out as harsh as she wanted it to. She wasn't exactly truthful in her statement. She refuses to admit the real reason, but Y/N can tell.
With Regina's help, the two get to the jeep where Karen and Gretchen are waiting for them.
~~~
feedback and requests are welcomed :)
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writeroutoftime · 9 months
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hi! could you write carmy berzatto x fem!reader where she’s in her early 20s (not too crazy age gap) and reader is sud’s friend and he just has a crush on her ???? like i just want lovesick carmen so badly 😭
pls and thank u
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a/n: sure thing, one lovesick carmy coming right up! (honestly, I was never sure how old carmy was supposed to be. but in my mind he was always somewhere around like 26-28??) also, sorry I hope you don't mind this ended up being in bullet point format, it was just easiest for me to write it that way - though I hope you enjoy!!
oOoOo
“Yo, who’s the new girl?” Richie called out as he watched you walk in behind Syd, pulling everyone's attention towards you.
"This is y/n." Sydney introduced. "She's been my friend for years, and she's offered to help us the restaurant. For free, might I add. So be nice." she finished, staring directly at Richie who simply raised his hands in surrender as a response.
You quietly giggled at the interaction, catching Carmen's attention as he stood in the back, waiting to come forward and introduce himself. He felt frozen in place, watching your smile, the way your eyes scanned the under-construction building with wonder, and the way you were ready to jump in and help.
It had been quite a while since Carmen felt his heart skip the way it did when he looked at you, and he clammed up, ready to turn back and introduce himself later. After he had hours to agonize over what he would say to you.
Unfortunately, fate - or Sydney- had other plans as his business partner steered you into Carmen's path. "And this is the man responsible for all of this chaos." Sydney teased.
"It's nice to meet you, Chef." you smiled gently, reaching out your hand in greeting.
"Oh, no, uh, I mean Carmen." he stuttered out, mentally slapping himself. "What I meant was you don't have to call me Chef, you can just call me Carmen, or Carmy. Really whatever you prefer." he rambled, trying to ignore the way you hand fit so perfectly in his.
"Got it, Chef Carmen Carmy." you giggled, enjoying the slight blush that dusted his cheeks.
And in that moment, Carmy knew he was a goner.
Though you weren't at The Bear every day, Carmy would constantly look towards the door when you weren't there, hoping that each jingle of the bell meant that it was you gracing him with your presence.
The days that you were there, though? Carmy found himself an absolute mess in your presence. Stuttering and stumbling all his words and laughing louder than necessary at any joke you cracked.
But Carmy could also be a little smoother when it came to interacting with you. He quickly learned your coffee (or tea) order and always tried to have it waiting for you when it stopped to get himself one.
But, of course, Carmy tries to get to know you most through food.
"Would you mind trying this dish? Thinking about putting it on the menu." Carmy would ask anytime he made something new for the Bear, you being only the second person to try it (behind Syd).
Carmy would also learn your favorite foods and offer to make it if you had been at The Bear too long and Carmen knew you hadn't eaten.
"Oh, you didn't need to do that, Carmy."
"Really it's no problem, it's the least I can do in exchange for all your help." he'd say, bashfully running a hand through his hair.
Richie, noticing the exchange would call out, "Hey, Cousin, can I get some of that too?" only to get Carmy's middle finger as a response.
Of course, none of this was one-sided and you regularly flirted back with Carmen while helping out. It was just he took it as you being too nice, not believing he had a shot with you - much to your disappointment and everyone else at The Bear.
"Cousin, you gonna ask her out or what?" Richie would finally ask one evening when it was just the two of them left at the restaurant.
"What are you talking about?" Carmen would ask, eyes furrowed, heart beating just a bit faster.
Richie's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "W-what am I talking about? You've been pining over y/n for months, and she's been throwing you all sorts of signals back.
"S-she has?" Carmy asked, voice quiet, though slowly growing excited.
"Yes!" Richie would shout, before walking away, mumbling a "you're hopeless" under his breath.
The next time Carmy saw you, he had made up his mind he was going to ask you out. Even if it just meant the two of you spending some time at the restaurant without everyone else.
He walked up to you talking to Sydney and asked if he could talk to you in the kitchen, alone.
"So, um, I probably should have asked you this weeks ago, but uh, do you maybe want to, I don't know, go out with me?" he rushed out, biting his lip, trying not to run away in fear.
There was a moment of silence before you beamed up at Carmy, nodding your head excitedly. "It's about time, Chef Carmen Carmy." you teased, kissing his cheek before heading back out to Syd, leaving Carmen a smiling, blushing mess.
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hydemenot · 4 months
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OFF LIMITS - mattheo r. | pt. 2
➠ A week after the incident, you've been meeting with Mattheo Riddle more than before—with the excuse of being an unsaid member of your revenge against Descamps, the cause of the mentioned incident—and, unbeknownst to each other, feelings began to bloom between the two of you despite the odds (odds being your brother, Theodore Nott).
The revenge takes a turn when things don't go according to the plan. INSPIRED BY MIXTE 1963
before reading: fem!reader, implied innocence (this is the 60s) more on mattheo's pov but it's a bit mixed with the two of yous ! boys fighting, cursing, theo is hated (lovingly), cliffhanger, this chapter feels filler-y but we move
📚: PART 1 | PART 2 | PART XX
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Mattheo's mind couldn't focus on anything that's written on the blackboard or the professor's words, which he knew deep down he'd regret later on during the exams. His thoughts were filled with you, and for good reasons—well, some were. Mattheo couldn't shake the first time he saw you on Theo's bed. While you were a bit battered and bruised, somehow it didn't shun your beauty. He saw a bit of resemblance between you and Theo, but he couldn't deny that you were on a whole different level. He believed the rumors were true; Beauxbatons' students were all unbelievably pretty.
It's been a week since the incident, and Theo, who's just as distracted as Mattheo for a different reason, has been more lenient with him meeting you—if lenient was being the epitome of a wall in between the two of you. Planning revenge took three people; you insisted it was, so you were always around when Theo was, giving Mattheo the chance to have a conversation with you as much as he could.
As expected, once the school bell rang, he was quick to catch the colored dress you decided to wear today, accompanied by a jacket that protected you from the cold breeze near the door of their classroom. Mattheo wasted no time collecting his things, but not without Theo practically zooming past him, purposely giving daggers of glare to any of the boys who kept their eyes on you.
Once Mattheo was out of the room, he could hear Theo's lecturing tone already.
"I told you to wait for us by the Great Hall!" He said, his voice raised in an angered whisper, but it didn't go unnoticed by him how Theo purposely covered you with his arm, leaning against the wall. You didn't back down, of course, crossing your arm and reciprocating your brother's irritated expression.
"I looked weird waiting out there, Theo—there were at least five people that asked me if I was lost."
"You couldn't handle the sixth one?" Mattheo chuckled, joining in on the tense conversation. He placed a hand on his friend's back, patting him to calm down. "Don't be so harsh on your sister, Theo. I hope you're not forgetting she's the victim here, right?"
Mattheo laughed as Theo brushed his hand off and watched as he took hold of your wrist, making a beeline up the staircase. During lunch breaks, the three of you decided that it'd be better to talk inside their dorm. The first time you sat next to them caused a bit of an uproar within the guys, especially seniors who knew him and Theo—it caused a lot of misunderstandings about you, ones that the two boys aren't particularly fond of hearing. It also helped gain secrecy about their plan to 'avenge' you.
Theo was called by one of their Latin professors, so Mattheo took the initiative to get the two of you to the dorms first—of course, not without Theo threatening to take not just one but two of Mattheo's heads off if he tried anything funny with you. Mattheo tried to ignore the questioning glance from you along the way.
Once Mattheo threw his bag on his bed and slumped down next to it, you groaned in displeasure at your brother's action (that's what it looked like to him, at least). His eyes followed you up to where you sat next to him, your bag laid on your lap.
"Suffocating, isn't he? Somehow he fills the whole room just by being himself," he started, looking over at you with pity, though his tone was laced with jest.
You rolled your eyes, not being able to contain your smile at his words. "Truly a pleasure to be with."
"Can't believe you handled him for so long and you didn't even have a choice," Mattheo urged for the 'Theo hate train'. It almost felt like talking shit behind your brother's back turned into a bonding moment between you and Mattheo.
"Well, you did, but you still chose him," you said with an amused shrug.
This caused Mattheo to sit up, hands on his chest, in faux-offense. "I beg to differ, sweetheart; that bloke chose me." Your raised eyebrow made him add more. "Not to mention, he insisted on staying with me because, and I quote, the only student he can handle."
You shook your head as you covered your mouth to laugh. "I don't think that's a good thing, Mattheo; I don't know."
You tried to ignore the funny feeling in your stomach at the mention of the nickname, not used to being called such endearments other than from your mother. Spending your first entire week in Mattheo's presence was nothing but bliss. He's the first guy friend you've ever made, and you were glad it was him. Despite his displayed callousness between his friends, Mattheo was sweet and kind to you. But that didn't also mean he looked down on you. You remembered hearing Mattheo, from when you first started waiting for them by their classroom, about how he insisted on letting you get at least a few punches here and there because he knew you could.
Mattheo didn't reply to your teasing, answering with a hearty laugh, causing you to join him. You liked him quite a lot, even though you're sure Theo would put Mattheo's head on a stake if he knew.
Speaking of, Theo finally arrived with a tired huff as he threw his messenger bag against his bed's mattress and began loosening his tie—your eyes curiously looked at Mattheo to see he wasn't wearing one.
"Professor made you show off your smarts again?" Mattheo spoke up. You turned back to face Theo as he sighed again. "In front of investors, I'm guessing."
"That would've been better, but no, it's to show off his teaching skills to the new English teacher," Theo explained with a nonchalant expression.
"Ah, it must've been hard for you." You could just tell from Mattheo's tone that he was far from concerned, making you giggle to yourself. Being in close proximity, Mattheo heard you and tried his best to contain his laughter. You saw your brother's eyes going back and forth between the two of you, full of suspicion. You coughed into your hand to calm yourself.
"So, any news on Descamps?" Mattheo suddenly asked you, trying to change the subject, but you can still see the way he raised his eyebrows that he's still holding back.
You nodded, looking back at Theo, who had his usual serious face that kept you from getting infected by Mattheo's giggle fest beside you. "If I'm not wrong, he spends most of his time after class on the open grounds with his friends."
Mattheo hummed. "That gives us the opportunity to embarrass him then," he said as he made eye contact with Theo too. They were talking again—telepathically, you guessed. Is it a best friends' thing?
"We'll wait for him there. Our class ends 15 minutes earlier than yours, so just go straight to us, okay?"
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The plan was for you to wait on Descamps and his friends to fix their things—a signal that they're about to leave—before heading to the open grounds, but it seemed like fate really hated you when the blonde boy suddenly approached you before you could stand up from your table. The professor left first, leaving some of your useless classmates to just stare at the scene.
Descamps' one hand landed on your table while the other held on to the back of your seat, perfectly locking you in. "What do you want?" You said with a glare, a similarity Mattheo once commented on that really reminded him that Theodore Nott was your brother, though it didn't falter the boy's annoying confidence.
"Don't act all cheeky now, Nott. As if you weren't following me around all week with your little heart eyes." His friends laughed while Descamps had that disgusting smirk. Unlike Mattheo's, it only made him look creepy.
You scoffed, tightening your grip on your bag. "You've misunderstood me, Descamps; I don't have heart eyes for boys who kick girls." You retorted loudly enough for the remaining students to hear. They gasped and began whispering to one another, but they stayed where they were, giving no intention of intervening or even just calling back the professor.
You embarrassed him once again, making you smile to yourself. "Now that we've made it all clear, can I leave?" You attempted to stand up, not fearing to go face to face with Descamps, as much as you hated his face, but that all stopped when he grabbed you by your hair. He grabbed a handful from the back of your head, earning a yell from you. You dropped your bag to the floor and used both of your hands to grab his wrist.
"Bitches like you never learn, do you? A bitch who sluts herself out for her seniors shouldn't have so much confidence." He threw you against the cold tiles of your classroom floor, your hair disheveled. You groaned in pain, holding onto your side. Thankfully, your arm managed to catch your head from colliding with the ground, but you still heard ringing from your ears at the impact. Tears began to well up from your eyes, shame running through your entire body of being at the end of the stick again.
You tried to stand up and run away, but before you could lift yourself from the ground, the sounds of chairs roughly scraping against the tiles filled the room. More people gathered by the door as Mattheo practically flung himself against Descamps.
"You fucking piece of shit!" Mattheo yelled as he grabbed Descamps' collar. You watched in fear as he mercilessly pinned the boy to the ground. You weren't used to seeing Mattheo with such anger on his face. He looked like he had no intention to stop unless someone forced him off of Descamps. You felt arms wrapped around you, making you turn to see Theo with the same expression at Mattheo, though he was facing Descamps' friends, who cowardly stood back.
Worry overwhelmed your nerves at the scene. "Theo—"
He grabbed your bag and placed a hand on your head where it was pulled on, causing you to wince. You couldn't tell what expression Theo had when he said, "It's fine; don't worry about him."
As if on cue, three other seniors ran past the forming crowd by the door. Two of them pulled Mattheo by both his arms while the other held down Descamps by his shoulder, keeping him on the ground. From the looks of what Mattheo did, he wouldn't be able to stand up without help anyway. The students watching, which only increased by the second resulted in even the windows being blocked, helped block the teachers making their way towards the scene. Your head ached from the chaos; the only thing you wished for was for all this to end and leave.
"Can we go, Theo? There are too many teachers outside." You looked over the growing crowd and said, "I don't want any of us to get in trouble, especially the two of you." Expulsion was the bare minimum punishment for what happened today, and you didn't want to cause not only your brother's education but also that of Mattheo, who only got involved because he had the misfortune of being Theo's roommate; nothing but guilt flooded your mind at that thought.
Theo nodded once he saw the teachers peaking over the students. "No one's getting in trouble except for that stronzo(asshole)," he replied, pointing over Descamps.
Theo lifted you up from the ground by your good arm, still carrying your bag, and fetched Mattheo from the two seniors by the sleeves of his uniform. Your eyes landed on the boy, instinctively grabbing a hold of his hand. Mattheo's knuckles were covered in blood, most probably mixed with Descamps and his. You knew that this would've happened even if things were to go as planned, but you weren't truly ready to see Mattheo in such a state.
Your chest pounded uncomfortably at every breath you took as Mattheo's calloused fingers intertwined with yours—you're sure it wasn't just the fact that the three of you were running away from the classroom to your brother's dorm.
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OFF LIMITS taglist💌
@multi-simp-page @itsnotme02 @mypolicemanharryyy @this-is-me-lolol @bath1lda
let me know if you wanna be added for the next part 🫶🏻 happy new year!
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pupcuck · 4 months
Text
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AND I LOVE HER !
ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader
tags. omg.. fluff and that’s it im sick, age gap, like brief mentions to sex idk, slight angst
note. don’t know what happened to me! ignore typos/mistakes this isn’t edited :3 rbs n feedback always appreciated omg im embarrassed ngl this is just leon feeling guilty as always
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“Okay, and so we get bored, right?” You tell him, perched on the bathroom counter, peeling back your false lashes to reveal– you guessed it, your natural layer of lashes which look identical to the fake pair. “Like, there wasn’t a lot to do, I mean it was snowing, we couldn’t leave campus, we couldn’t even leave her bedroom, right?” Leon gives an Mhm to show you he’s listening and totally not dozing off to the sound of your voice. Sorry, babe, sometimes it just puts him to sleep. The same way white noise does. “We go on Bumble - you know what that is, right?”
“Oh, yeah, obviously,” Leon scoffs, when in fact he doesn't know what that is.
“So, yeah, we're swiping, swiping, not a single right, right?” Another Mhm from his side, you’re using a cotton bud to remove your eye makeup, the black smears and becomes streaky on your skin. Cute, that’s how you look after a nice, hard fucking. His mind wanders far away to the sanctum that is his bedroom, the room on the opposite side of the hall. “And so Ashley, you remember her, right?”
“Rings a bell,” It rings no bells, not a single one, the only Ashley he knows is ex-First Daughter Ashley Graham. “The short one?” All your friends are short, he makes a purposely vague guess to hide his disinterest. Leon would put more into this conversation if he wasn’t five seconds away from conking out on the closed toilet seat.
“Yeah, that one, her fucking boyfriend pops up!”
“From where?” He asks, genuinely concerned for your wellbeing, was the freak hiding out in his girlfriend’s dorm room, under the bed of some shit?
“On Bumble?” You shoot him an odd look through the mirror, “Anyway, his profile says some shit about an open relationship, that his girlfriend wants a threesome, like, all this shit.”
“That’s awful.” He gets the gist, the dude is a cheater, still has no clue what a Bumble is.
“I know, and he’s ugly, that’s the worst part, she’s out of his league.” You hop off the counter, running the tap to wash your face in that ritualistic manner. Scrub, splash, wipe. Shit’s obsessive, Leon’s only ever ran his wet hands over his face, uses his thumbs to get the gunk out the corner of his eyes. “She was totally upset,” You say, lathering your face in foam, “She wouldn’t stop crying, and don’t, like, tell her or anything, babe,” You rub circles on your cheeks, the soap bubbles up, the tap has been running five minutes too long.
“Wasn’t planning on it, babe.” Leon tips his head back to soothe the tension in his neck, when you cup your hands and splash water into your face, droplets splatter on the counter.
“Good, well, to tell you the truth, she was pissing me off,” A few more minutes of what looks more like a facial massage than a wash and you’re done, “Like, he was never even nice to her, he made her pay for dates, and she was really crying hard, Leon, like, snot and everything.”
“Lousy guy.”
“Yeah, and so we find a place that’s open on the map, like, a convenience store, I mean it was like gas and groceries, but it was so fucking shady, babe,” You pat your face dry with a towel, hanging it up on the rack, “And, like, we try to get an Uber, or like literally any cab at this point, but no one wants to drive in that weather, you saw what kinda clothes I took too!”
Oh, Leon did, and he did the right thing and warned you that tie-up tops and mini skirts so mini they could be classified as belts would do nothing for you. Well, they do everything for your figure, but nothing against the least windy of winds. Like a shaky orange leaf clinging to the weary branches of an autumn tree, those scraps of Lycra would go flying, leaving you topless and bottomless and defenceless without a Leon to take care of your sorry ass.
“So, I’m like so sure I’ve got frostbite as we’re walking, but it’s five minutes away, we keep going, none of us had an ID by the way, not even a real one,” The second part of your routine involves applying lotion so thickly, it secretes enough palm oil to give back to those Amazonian orangutans, solving the deforestation issue one nighttime routine at a time.
“Babe,” Leon says in the tone of a disappointed and slightly exasperated father who wants nothing but the best for his daughter while being emotionally distant all at once, because he just has that kind of voice, “You can’t be doing that, it’s dangerous, could get in a lot of trouble, and it’s bad for you, y’know?” His liver cries out in disbelief as it has been subjugated completely by his alcoholism, “You don’t need drinks to have fun, you just need your friends.” His words pass through you. Leon has changed the world through his Special Agent status, he’s saved it time and time again, what he has not done is change your world like he suspected he would with that half-assed motivational speech.
“So, Ashley, the bitch, she shoves me in front, and all the girls are like oh, you go up, you look soo much older than us, which is so fucking rude. Like, I know I look it, everyone says it to me, doesn’t mean she should say it. So, I go up, and babe - I swear to god, he doesn’t even ask, like, he just kinda looked at my tits and scanned the bottles.” You use your hands a lot when you speak.
He blinks at you bare-faced, and it all comes falling down, on top of him like gigantic Jenga blocks that he himself misplaced. “You’re a baby,” Leon tells you. Not in the way most older men do when they talk down to young girls - to make them feel like even younger girls. It’s not to put you in your place, after all, it is Leon that needs to be put in his place more than anyone. He says this with the utmost sincerity as he spirals head-first into a frantic epiphany of sorts. He’s fucking a baby. A baby with a heart-shaped ass and a penchant for clothes that cover a single nipple at best.
“No, I’m not a baby, I’m just not old,” There’s a lack of hardened lines on your face, not quite baby-faced, but visibly young.
“Yeah, okay, baby,” Leon pats your head, rolls his shoulders back to relieve him of an ache, “I’m going to bed.”
“So am I.” Your lips jut out, “I was going there first actually.” Holy Mother of God, you’re a kid. Don’t do this to him. Usually, Leon likes his women menopausal, Norman Bates would agree, that’s insensitive, rather Mrs Bates would agree. It’s just that when you’re forty-six, fucking older women goes into grandma territories. Women his age are beautiful, but half of them settled down over ten years back, the available ones are career women that keep him on his toes, and he doesn’t like that. Being kept on his toes is too much, his back hurts and he wants to rest. The other half come with kids, Leon would rather scoop out his brain with a tea spoon than come into close contact with a child. The appeal wears off either way because Leon wants them to be older than him, but he’s not twenty anymore so the older women won’t be forty and stern and beautiful in the way worn out housewives are, they’ll be sixty and senile.
“Were you now?” He keeps the bile down in his stomach where it should be, takes you to bed, fucks you into the mattress one last time, kisses the mole between your breasts and leaves the following morning. What drug was he on the night he met you? Leon doesn’t know, and he doesn’t know if he’s still on it, or if dating younger women is a side effect of it.
The car windows are frosted over when he makes his way out without a de-icer in hand, it melts slowly as he sits in the driver's seat with his head bowed, drooped on top of the wheel. Leon pats himself down, feeling for his keys, he gets out, into the elevator and returns to face the front door. He slots his key into the lock and enters the apartment because it is his apartment, not yours. He’s so used to walking out on people that he walked out of his own home. Selfish tendencies that surely stem from some fucked up part of his brain.
“Leon?” You’re stood there in the doorway rubbing your eyes, “Did you go out?”
“Yeah, babe,” He grunts when you take your seat on his lap, the weight is pleasant, grounds him, “I went out, just for a minute, had to take a call, didn’t wanna wake you.”
“I woke up the minute you got out of bed.” The softness of your skin on his is dizzying, sleep-swollen lips coming to kiss his scruffy face with all the tenderness of a young adult woman, that’s a lot of tenderness, they feel a lot. Heart might not be on your sleeve, but it leaks out of you in the most insignificant moments, it’s in every single word you say to him. “You’re not very quiet, Leon. I don’t know who hired you, they should reconsider.”
Smiling, he cradles your close, takes your tit in his hand. Love is stored in these things. That’s why your heart is in the left one, not on your sleeve. “Was I that loud?”
“Yeah, I heard you stub your toe, and you were like fuck, fuck, fuck! for a good minute,” You recount, “And then I heard you talking to yourself in the bathroom, and you were brushing your teeth, you kept making those gross gagging noises, my dad does that too.”
“Trying to get it all out.” Leon shrugs, his chin rests atop your head.
“Get what out? Your uvula?”
“No, stupid, just, I don’t know, stop asking questions.”
“Okay, whatever, and then you walked out still talking to yourself, and then you were looking for your keys, moving furniture,” That he was, “Sounds like you scraped up the floors,” That he did, “Then you found them and they kept fucking jingling, then you shut the door really quietly, and I was like where is this loser going. Hey, Leon, you know I can see your car from here, right?”
You’d seen him. Seen him throw a sulky manchild tantrum in his car. How embarrassing. “If I’m being honest, I didn’t know that.” He admits.
“Well, I saw you sitting in there, I know you didn’t go to the store, I know you’re lying to me, but it’s okay,” You kiss his Adam’s apple, your nose tucked into his neck, “I know you didn’t mean it.”
“I didn’t— I didn’t mean it,” Leon confirms, he holds you tighter to him and thinks that you're more mature than he’ll ever be. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” It comes easily to you, and he wishes to do the same, “You can talk to me instead of, like, trying to drive away from your own apartment, that’s pretty weird, Leon.”
“I know, I’ll talk to you,” He won’t, and you know that, and he knows you know that, but it’s okay, it takes time for this sort of stuff, “I love you,” Leon says again, his lips meet yours, swallows up the response on your tongue, he eats your love.
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mrscarmenbearzatto · 3 months
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bedtime kisses - carmen berzatto au
in which carmen comes home to find his girls after a long day of work. | fem/mom!reader
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Carmen runs a hand through exhausted curls, ones that have been neglected recently due to his busy schedule. He sneaks in through the garage door of the home you share, as per his usual routine.
It's getting colder outside, so he adjusts to the warmth of the house for a moment. Neither you or the girls are downstairs, probably upstairs in either the bed you both share or in one of their rooms. There's toys on the living room floor, evidence of Willow's growing love of building blocks and Aurora's baby swing scattered.
He kicks his shoes off, throwing his patterned jacket down on the couch.
He passes by the kitchen, physically stopping and peering in. Having two kids left some of the chores undone, and he had plans to clean the kitchen tomorrow. But it's already done, with the counters even looking wiped down thoroughly.
He makes his way upstairs, the only light being on is the one in the room you and him share. He slips into the bathroom, finding some pajama pants and a t-shirt to slip into. He probably smells like oil and spices, and he'll apologize for it later.
He gently creaks the bedroom door open, finding a scene that makes his heart melt. You, sitting up in the middle. Exhaustion written on your face, with both girls beside you. Willow helping hold up a book you've been reading to her, with Aurora curled up into you, fast asleep.
Willow doesn't even notice him come in, her eyes drooping with exhaustion. "Thereupon the prince sent for the merchant and his daughters, and he was married to Belle, and they all lived happily ever after," you read. "You getting sleepy, Wills?" You ask softly.
She tries to protest, but she just nods, closing her eyes and laying her head on you. You smile, kissing the top of her head. Carmen fully walks into the room then, your eyes lighting up as they fall on him. "Hi, stranger." You greet.
He carefully slides into bed, having to scooch Aurora to the side just a bit but she doesn't mind any. Drool falls from the corner of her mouth, and Carmen wipes it away with his thumb. "Hi. How was today?" He asks.
"Fine enough, I guess. The girls tried staying up to greet you when you came home but Willow finally agreed to try to get some sleep after some bedtime stories. She really likes the Beauty and the Beast for some reason.." you comment, before turning to him, your hand lightly scratching Willow's scalp. "How was work?"
"It was fine. Fak and Richie have been trying to repair our gas line, and Nat's our project manager." He informs, smiling down at his daughters. "I'm sorry I took so long to get back. Tried to beat Chicago traffic but it didn't work."
You take your hand in his, giving it a light squeeze. "Carm, it's okay. 'm just happy you're home." You say. He smiles, pressing a kiss to your head. "I love you. Get some sleep, love. You did good today. I'll get the girls into bed and then come snuggle with you." He promises.
He gently stands back up, scooping Aurora into one arm. She's usually the fussier one, being attached to you and all. Staying as quiet as he possibly can with creaky floorboards that seem to get louder in the night-time, he makes his way into her nursery. Getting her in her baby onesie before gently laying her into the crib, placing a kiss on her forehead. "Night, Roro. Sleep tight. Don't let the bedbugs bite, and if they do, bite back." He says softly. The same thing Mikey would tell him if their mom was already asleep when Carmen needed to be in bed.
He then focuses on Willow, picking her up. She's the calmest toddler he's ever met, placing her down gently on her big girl bed that she got recently. Her eyes barely open, patiently waiting for her goodnight kiss before falling back asleep.
He gives into her, placing her kiss on her forehead. "G'night, Wils. Sweet dreams, yeah? Don't let the bed bugs bite. And if they do?" He asks. "Bite back." She replies, her voice quiet. She sounds like Natalie.
He smiles, giving her a fist bump. "Goodnight, sweet girl. I'm sure you helped mama out a lot today and I'm proud of you for it." He tucks her in under the blanket before he turns on the nightlight by the door, slipping out.
Then, you. Still waiting up so patiently for him, despite the fact he can see how tired you are. You and Willow look almost identical when you're tired, your eyes fighting from closing and the way your nose wrinkles when you yawn.
He stands in the doorway, admiring you for a moment before you open you arms for him. "Don't just stand there, B. Get in bed." You request in a mumble. He grins, climbing into your arms. His head laid on your chest for a change, listening to your heartbeat. Calm, slow.
Neither of you say anything. He just holds you close. His mind flashing through the stressful events of that day, but with a simple look at you, it fades away. You hold his face, his hand on your forearm.
He falls asleep like that, wishing to be as close to you as he can be. There's no other place he wants to be, after all.
˙ ✩°˖🌸 ⋆。˚꩜
shine on, shine on, my loves!
- mae
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togenabi · 7 months
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the language of flowers
gojo satoru x reader (royalty au)
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♡—All your life, you have been training for the role of Empress... But nothing could have prepared you to be Satoru's wife.
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word count♡— 4.7k (I came back swinging y'all)
genre♡— fluff, royalty au
aged up characters♡— 18+
content notes♡— arranged marriage, romance, crown prince (maybe ooc) gojo, flowers, no use of y/n, afab!reader, ur a princess we're all princesses, minor chara oc's, mentions of my other au's, reader's father is a jerk, reader is tough but falls hard, not fully proofread
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author's note♡— this took a while! september was ridiculously busy for me but I did my best with this to compensate! this is also very self indulgent, but I hope you enjoy it! xoxo, belle
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As a child, you found out of your engagement to the Crown Prince by accident.
On a chilly winter's evening, you had been chasing the Royal Secretary's cat around the palace. Your father, the King, would frown upon you playing games at this hour. You should be writing essays, learning dance or banquet etiquette.
But all that can wait, you think. You've just spotted the end of a fluffy tail dart around the next corner.
When you catch up to it, the orange tabby is curiously peering into a room—whose grand double doors are slightly ajar. Eyes widening, you quicken your steps but make sure to minimize any sound. The last thing you needed was to be spotted skirting your duties right in front of the King's study.
You let out a huff of relief once you've gently picked up the cat, your arms hugging it to your chest.
Just as you're about to sneak away, however, you hear your name.
From the gap in the door, streams of golden light pour out; contrasting with the darkness of the hallway. The silhouettes of your father and his Secretary leave shadowed patterns on the floor.
You listen, as these silhouettes plan your future without you.
“Ha!” The King bellows. “My daughter. Empress. I never thought I'd see the day.”
Your heart stutters. What?
“When will you inform her, Your Majesty?”
The shadow on the painted tiles waves a hand dismissively as your father does.
“I'll leave that to you, Montgomery. Tell her that she should be honored.”
Heavy footsteps sound as he paces. “It was concerning to have a daughter as a firstborn. I knew she couldn't be made to rule what I've built, but I'll finally have a steady pawn in The Empire once she's sent away.”
Pain shoots into you. Your eyes begin to sting. You had always known your brother was the favorite despite all the hard work you've put in, but to be spoken of as a pawn... Could it be that you have not worked hard enough?
You suddenly remember where you are. Remember how slacking off brought you here. Heartbroken, you hug the cat tighter.
The words your father speak as you walk away deepens the dagger in your chest.
“Do not settle for anything less than perfect for her coursework. She's to be Empress, after all.”
On that chilly winter's evening, your heart froze over like the snow-covered branches looming outside.
...
Several years later.
The carriage goes over a bump in the road, but you do not show discomfort or act without grace. Your expression is controlled and your posture is correct as you balance yourself.
Across from you, Secretary Mont holds a newspaper up, the front page faces you as he reads. Large bold letters take up the entire upper half of the paper:
‘CITIZENS QUESTION IF EMPRESS-TO-BE IS WORTHY OF THE CROWN PRINCE’
You scoff. It makes Mont meet your gaze over the paper before flipping it; he frowns disapprovingly at the front-most article.
“Do not mind them, Your Highness.” He folds the paper and sets it aside—as if it would help prove his point. “The people are not used to your presence yet, but they will be. They will see how you are the perfect choice for Empress.”
The Princess is power hungry, someone who was interviewed had said. You wanted the Empire for yourself, apparently.
Jealous. Vain. Possessive. Dramatic.
Shifting your gaze to the window, you contemplate what you had done to garner such a negative image. Could you have done anything differently?
Your father's face appears in your mind's eye. That same ever-present scowl on his face as he says you should do better. You should be grateful. You should be nothing less than what you've been preparing all these years for. Everything must be perfect.
The Imperial Palace comes into view. It stands high and grand, shining under the bright midday sun. The cloudless blue sky above it makes the scene picturesque.
After the wedding in four months, it is to be your new home.
The Imperial Princess, your betrothed's younger sister, greets you when you arrive. You curtsy to each other, and she surprises you by reaching out to take your hands in hers. She gives them a firm yet friendly squeeze.
“I'm pleased to welcome you, my sister-to-be.” She beams, and you return the look with your own small, composed smile.
“I am honored to be here. Thank you for taking the time to receive me personally.” You gently lower your hands, letting her go.
She leads you inside, passing lines of palace staff as you enter.
“Congratulations on your own engagement, by the way.” You say honestly. After assessing her for a moment, you carefully remark, “I hear you and Prince Toge are quite happy.”
“We are.” She nods, smile glowing even more at the mention of her beloved. “Please allow me to say that I hope you and my brother find your own happiness, despite the ‘political arrangement’ of it all.”
“I thank you for your well-wishes.”
“Would you like an escort to your chambers?” The Princess offers once you reach a grand curving staircase.
“If you have other duties, I will not keep you.” You give her a bow, the ends of your dress brushing the polished marble flooring.
“Very well.” She nods. “A servant will inform you when dinner is ready.”
Gathering your skirt, you make your way up the steps to the east wing, where the guest chambers are.
Your eyes find the path to the west wing, where the royal families' rooms can be found. Soon enough, you would be heading there instead of east. Hopefully, the Prince will be amicable to live with.
The chambers reserved for you are exactly how you remember them. It's spotless and feels homey despite you only visiting a few times a year.
This is the only place you can be truly alone. Your father, try as he might, has no power here.
You step towards the balcony, opening the glass doors that lead outside. The wind caresses your skin like a soft kiss to your cheek, and you take a deep breath to savor it.
Four months.
That's all you have left. Four months of freedom here.
Another breeze passes. It carries with it a tiny dandelion wisp. Catching it almost feels like holding onto air, and yet it is there between your fingers. Small and weighing nothing, but there nonetheless.
For such a small thing, it strengthens your resolve.
You're not here for freedom. You're here to be Empress. And that's all that matters. You will not let anything get under your skin and interfere with your responsibilities.
...
So you said, only to find yourself in a very unexpected situation.
Dinner was uneventful, your only gripe was that your betrothed was not present. You had hoped to show everyone that you got along well... Even if you've only really spoken a handful of times.
However, once you returned to your chambers, you spot the balcony door open once more. Beyond it, looking out at the view of the city, was the Crown Prince himself.
You try not to let your unpreparedness get to you. Bowing respectfully, you greet him. “Good evening, Your Highness. May I ask what brings you here?”
The Prince turns to you, crossing one ankle over the other as he casually leans on the balcony.
“There you are.” Satoru says, his head tilting as he observes you.
You eye him warily, trying to decipher his intentions. If he wanted to see you, he could have simply shown up to dinner. “What are you doing?”
He steps forward. You step back. “Is it a crime to want time alone with my—”
Sighing, you should have expected him to want more time with the future—
“—wife?”
The word knocks the wind out of you.
Of all the names you have been called, ‘wife’ is a new addition to the list.
You are your parents' daughter, your country's princess, and are to be the Empire's most powerful woman.
And yet, to one person... to Satoru, you are to be his wife.
It's almost strange to think about. Your earliest memory of your betrothed is back when he was small and scrawny. It was difficult to take him seriously back then.
Now, something has changed in him. Or it could also be that he's always been like this, and this is a side to him he doesn't show to others that often.
Satoru watches you process the word, seeming to have something to say, but decides against it. You half expected him to tease you for being flabbergasted, but he patiently waits for you to speak first.
“Why are you here at this hour?”
He grins, eyes bringing shame to those distant stars hanging in the sky behind him.
“I didn't want our first meeting in ages to have so many spectators." Satoru explains. “If I had shown up earlier, the scribes would have taken note of how many times I blinked or how fast I chewed."
His jesting does not put you at ease at all. “I have a feeling you have something to say that should not be recorded or overheard.”
“That's true. However,” Satoru says pointedly, “The hour is far too late for all that I wish to say, so I will simply bid you goodnight with this...”
Out of nowhere, he pulls out a red flower with curling petals.
You keep your eyes on his as you reach for the flower's stem. Satoru watches you back, smiling softly. He's backing away before you can thank him, but he doesn't look like he minds. He seems to be happy you didn't reject it.
“Goodnight, my dear.” He bows, and makes his exit.
...Through the balcony. Again.
You step out and try to find where he disappeared to, but he's gone.
The moonlight out here allows you to get a better look at the flower. How curious. Usually, people in the Empire give roses, don't they?
The red carnation twirls between your fingers, and you think of how much more grand and tangible it is compared to the dandelion wisp that found you before dinner.
...
Carnations mean many different things, according to this book on the language of flowers you picked up. It all depends on the color.
Pink carnations symbolize fondness and remembrance. Some also consider it to mean not being able to forget someone.
White carnations mean purity, good luck, and new beginnings. It's a common way of wishing someone safe travels.
Yellow carnations have varying meanings. Sometimes, they are used for apologies. But most often they are given to express disdain, symbolizing a hopeless state of mind. You stare at the illustration next to the passage. The yellow watercolor is so bright and vibrant, it makes you wonder what it did to deserve such sad connotations.
Setting the book down for a moment, you rest your eyes by scanning the library. Countless shelves with even more countless books. A golden candlestick here. A priceless painting there. A stack of yesterday's newspaper lying a few tables away.
Something unpleasant settles in your chest. You ignore it and resume reading.
Naturally, as is the case for most red flowers, the red carnation means love. True, passionate love and affection.
You shut the book softly, tracing the embossed petals on the cover while thinking of the red carnation sitting on your bedside table.
Things could have gone worse, you suppose. At least Satoru didn't give you a striped carnation, which has no other meaning than rejection.
Secretary Mont enters the library before you could dwell more on that thought. He's arrived with several palace staff for additional wedding plans.
“Your Highness,” Only Mont greets you, but they all bow in unison.
You nod, and gesture to the table. “Be seated. Let's begin with the urgent concerns first.”
Apparently, the most urgent problem was that Satoru had not approved any of the table dressing color schemes. When you review the options, you think you can assume why. There can only be so many shades of white and cream and pearl.
“What shall we do, Your Highness?” One of the butlers ask.
“Give me a few samples, I'll talk to the Crown Prince myself.”
You almost regret saying that, because once you did, several staff began tripping over themselves, requesting you bring up other preparations with Satoru.
Secretary Mont asks if he should schedule an appointment with your betrothed, but you decline. Something tells you that he will show up again tonight.
And so, here you were after dinner in your chambers. A box of wedding planning materials rests next to you on the bed. You left the balcony doors open this time, and he shows up just as you predicted.
“Aw, were you expecting me?” He's smiling at you as he approaches, but it falters once he sees the box.
He lets out a loud breath before settling on your bed too, the box sits between you. “Alright, let's do this.”
“Start with these.” You hand him some fabric swatches, he looks at them in disdain.
“Pearl, then.” He says, barely even looking through all the options.
“Don't decide hastily.” You can't help but reprimand. “It's not just the color you have to consider, but the material as well.”
Satoru blinks, but presses his fingers to feel the texture of the fabric at your suggestion. “Is pearl not good then?”
“It's pretty, but it's too shiny.” You explain. “The sheen doesn't make it soft or comfortable to use.”
“Ah.” He breathes out, understanding what you mean.
You tell yourself your heart doesn't beat louder when he picks the one you had your eye on. Satoru holds the sample fabric up, the label attached reads ‘Snow’.
A clean, classic sort of white. Soft to the touch, almost fluffy. You don't have to tell him that you agree, he can already guess from the way you glance at him.
He doesn't need to know that your eyes strayed to his hair. Soft. Fluffy.
Clearing your throat, you change the subject by bringing out some tableware samples. “Shall we discuss these, next?”
An hour and thirty kinds of invitation cards later, a short break is due. You're writing down your decisions when Satoru calls your name.
You've moved to your desk by now, since your bed has become some sort of wedding moodboard. Something clinking together reaches your ears, and you turn to find that Satoru had tea brought up. He pours you a cup and carefully hands it to you.
“Thank you.” You respond gratefully, taking a sip before turning back to the lists in front of you.
“Aren't you tired?” Satoru asks, reading your writing over your shoulder.
“This is actually quite easy for me.” You admit. “Wedding planning is unexpectedly... Pleasant.”
Satoru laughs softly. “You're probably the only one in this palace who thinks it's pleasant to work with me.”
After a moment, he continues. “I suppose... That's a good thing, if we're to be wed.”
His words make you pause writing. You suddenly feel shy, warmth spreading on your cheeks. The kind you're sure isn't from the flame crackling in the fireplace.
How silly that you're becoming bashful after being engaged to him since you were children. The thundering of your heart can wait.
“I agree.” You respond, not turning to face him. You will not allow him to see you uncomposed like you did the previous night. “I wasn't sure what to expect from our marriage, but I would appreciate it if we were companionable.”
The rest of the evening proceeds smoothly, though you do notice Satoru becoming more silent as the night goes on.
The next day, you spot Satoru speaking to foreign delegates. Something is different in the way he carries himself in front of them. His posture is that of a proper Emperor, not a cheeky prince that sneaks into your room at night.
... It's probably best that no one finds out about that, lest a scandal breaks before you even get married.
When the delegates leave, you're about to approach and greet Satoru when he, unmistakably meets your eyes, then walks in the opposite direction.
You're left there, confused and perhaps even a little hurt. But you stone your expression and carry on as if nothing has happened. Your lessons taught you to be graceful, even in times you feel anything but.
By late afternoon, it's painfully obvious that Satoru is ignoring you. When he rushes through his lunch and gets up right when you take your seat, you try your best to look unaffected.
Hopefully, you're the only one who's noticed so far. If word reaches Secretary Mont, word will reach your father... That troubles you more than you can put to words.
Satoru doesn't show up for your scheduled wedding planning session with the rest of the staff. You're careful not to say that you'll speak with your betrothed, and thankfully no one mentions it even if it shows they wish you did. You're not even sure if he'll show up at your balcony tonight.
When the hour turns ten, the time he's usually here, he isn't. You sigh and can't help feeling a little disappointed.
Perhaps you said something wrong last night. Maybe you should apologize for something. Or he could just be busy, you tell yourself. You can't expect the Crown Prince to always have time to sneak away to you, can't you?
Something taps against the glass of the balcony doors. It breaks your train of thought, and causes your heart to leap just a bit.
But when you go to check, no one's there. You open the doors to find a single red carnation, just like the one he gave the first night.
You're only barely successful at hiding your relief. You reach for it and glance around once more, just to make sure if he left any other trace of him. There are none, but after you lock the doors and turn in for the night, two carnations in a glass vase calm you in a way you hadn't let yourself feel in a long time.
...
A maid knocks at your door a tad earlier than you're used to. When you ask about what's going on, she says she has to prepare you for the Crown Prince's departure.
“He's leaving?” You ask as you rise from bed, already headed for the bathroom to clean up.
“Yes, Your Highness.” She sifts through your wardrobe for your clothes. “He is to go on a business trip to settle trade agreements.”
“How long will he be gone for?”
“I cannot say for certain, Your Highness.”
Pausing in thought, you look to the balcony doors.
A rush of determination fills you as you ask the maid, “Could you prepare something for me?”
The head butler said that he could be gone for two or three weeks. Weeks before you see that face of his, which has a surprisingly forlorn expression on it.
“Thank you for seeing me off.” Satoru acknowledges you with a smile, but his eyes reveal how tired and troubled he truly is.
You say nothing at first, silently taking steps closer to him. You could practically feel the air freeze over as everyone watching holds their breath. This is the closest the two of you have appeared in public.
You reveal a white carnation held in the hand you hid behind you. The stem is cut short, just enough so that it fits into the pocket on his coat.
“I will take care of things here while you're gone.” You assure him, taking a step back to admire how the white flower suits him.
Satoru seems to be at a loss for words, but his eyes regain their usual spark when he addresses you again. “It seems I have nothing to worry about, then.”
You feel stares at your back as the carriage departs, but pay them no mind. You intend to keep your word and perform your duties while the prince is gone.
On your way to the library, you overhear the Imperial Princess and Sir Nanami speaking to each other.
They're in the next hallway, and you were just about to turn to it when you hear your name spoken. You press your back to the wall and listen.
“I'm glad Her Highness seems to have liked my brother.” The princess says. “And of course, I know Satoru would have been over the moon because of that flower.”
Sir Nanami hums. “His concerns were nothing to be worried about after all.”
The princess laughs. “Oh, what was it again that he said? That she friendzoned him?”
“It was that she companion-zoned him.”
You huff quietly. So that's why Satoru had been ignoring you yesterday.
“I look forward to their blooming relationship. I'm sure Her Highness will come around.” Is the last you hear of their conversation as they continue on their way, their footsteps fading further into the hall.
Come around? To what?
A grandfather clock chimes to signal the change of the hour, and you realize you've dilly-dallied for long enough. The rest of your way to the library has no people whispering about you and your betrothed or the flower you sent him off with.
But you would be lying if you said you'd forgotten about what the princess said.
...
Ever since Satoru left, he's been writing you letters. He said his sister gave him the idea.
You've given up on replying on every letter he sends. It seems as though he writes to you daily, and you simply can't keep up. He insists on writing no matter how busy he gets.
His fifth letter is so short that it should be called a note:
‘The flowers here are lovely. I had a bookmark made for you.’
That same bookmark, a dried pink carnation, sits between the pages of the novel you're currently reading. It makes you consider pressing the red carnations Satoru had given you so that they're not just left to wilt.
You write back once a week. But what you lack in quantity of letters you make up with the number of pages you write, and you tell Satoru as such. There are many things you want to report, so you don't hold back on anything.
Well, perhaps you don't quite tell him that you can't fall asleep until you spot the moon through the balcony glass. Or that you think of him whenever you're not distracted enough.
In Satoru's fifteenth letter, he brings the unfortunate news that his return will be delayed. He will have been gone for four weeks before he comes home, and the journey back will take three days at the latest.
Unable to express your disappointment outright, you instead imply that he should make haste for the wedding preparations. That he shouldn't miss the food tasting or the floral arrangements.
‘I trust my wife to make all the right decisions. Even if you don't, I'll consider them right anyway.’
There he goes again, calling you wife when you haven't married yet. It also dawns on you that Satoru has only ever called you by name, or addressed you as his wife. He's probably the only person who hasn't referred to you as Empress-to-be.
You're quickly learning that with Satoru, you're finding yourself again. It's rare for you to feel more than just a princess or Empress in training, but he makes it effortless with just a few words.
...
You begin counting down the days when Satoru writes that trade negotiations have finally concluded. He should be home in four days, and you can hardly wait to see his face again.
But of course, Satoru finds a way to bewilder you by arriving home early. In the middle of the night, no less. And naturally, through the balcony.
Wiping the sleep from your eyes, you try to decipher if his visage is a dream or a trick or the light. But when he laughs, and tells you he missed you dearly, you need no further proof.
Satoru clasps your hands with his, running his thumbs over your fingers and knuckles. Your eyes travel down to his boots, which are filthy with dirt and grass. His hair is ruffled and windswept.
“Did you,” The word settles on your tongue when you pause. “...Rush here on horseback?” You ask incredulously.
Satoru laughs again, and wraps his arms around you. “Are you complaining?”
You blink, and tentatively wrap your arms around his middle. “No. I'm glad you're home.”
Satoru is so warm compared to the night air that surrounds you. You almost complain when he pulls back, but the serious look in his eye makes you keep your mouth shut.
He clears his throat and rubs your shoulders before taking your hands again. You're completely shocked when he sinks to one knee.
“I know that we're already engaged.” Satoru begins. “I know that we've been preparing for this for years, but I just wanted to ask you properly. Because you deserve it.”
He pulls out a ring, a diamond shines at its center.
“Marry me, and I shall spend every moment of my life proving my love for you.”
“Yes. I will.” You respond, and he slips the ring onto your finger. How does he keep getting more and more lovely?
You place your hands on the sides of his face, pulling him up to you. You kiss him, and the air ignites like a spark brought to life.
It's tender, and careful, and carries all the things you wish to say to him. How you missed him. How you love the flowers he gives you. How excited you are to have him by your side for forever.
When you break apart, he seems surprised to find you reflecting his happiness back at him. He's about to speak, but not before he can resist the urge to kisses you again.
You smile into the kiss, but place a hand on his chest, pushing him to ask, “You were about to say?”
“...I've always known I would treat you right when we got engaged. That was always a given.” Satoru cradles your face gently, making you feel like the most precious in the world to him. “You were chosen because you're smart, and you worked harder than anyone else.”
“...But I saw you one day, when we were kids.” He speaks carefully. “You were trying your best to impress your father, but not at all happy...”
“From then on, I decided to make it my mission to make you smile.” To prove his point, he places his thumbs at the corners of your mouth to drag them up playfully. You laugh and swat his hands away.
“A real smile, just like that! None of those diplomatic half-smiles you always throw out to please people. That won't work on me.”
“Before you are the Empress, you are my wife. And I will love and treasure you as such.”
...
He says those same words at the wedding. You jest that he has no originality, but it brings you to tears just the same.
The wedding happens in the palace gardens, surrounded by countless beautiful flowers that dance and sway under the sun when the wind blows. Everything is, in every sense of the word, perfect.
For this moment, you are not the Empress. Not yet. The world can wait a day, you decide. Everything else can wait while you bask in the glowing warmth this man offers you.
As you leave the ceremony behind with your arms linked together, Satoru leans into your ear so you can hear him over the cheering crowd. “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing,” Petals shower you both on your way, and you can't help but smile. “Just that we're perfect together.”
Satoru laughs in agreement. “Damn right we are.”
Several staff are positioned at the exit of the gardens, ready to escort you both to the carriages that will take you through the Empire to greet your subjects... But something makes you pause at the end of the aisle.
You pluck a red carnation from one of the floral displays before turning to your husband. You tuck the flower into the chest pocket of his suit, snug in front of his pocket square.
When you glance up to see his reaction, he's already beaming at you, looking indescribably happy.
“I love you too.” He says, taking your hand and pressing the softest of kisses on top of your wedding ring.
When you sent him away back then, you remember thinking how the white carnation matched well with him. Looking at him now, however, the red flower over his heart seems to overflow with all the love and all the words that need not be spoken. You like this one much better.
He leans down to pluck another identical flower, and gently tucks it behind your ear.
Satisfied, he holds your hand tight, leading you to the rest of your lives with the assurance that he will never let go.
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sycamorelibrary754 · 5 months
Text
Happy Thanksgiving
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Summary: You invite Natasha’s family to join you for Thanksgiving. Holiday cheer and a surprise awaits!
Genre: Fluff
Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader, Yelena Belova x reader (platonic), Alexei Alanovich Shostakov x reader (platonic) Melina Vostokoff x reader (platonic)
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings: None
A/N: This was a fun one. Happy Thanksgiving!
When you first broached the subject with Natasha of inviting Yelena, Melina, and Alexi to your home for Thanksgiving, you weren’t sure how your wife would respond. True, things were better. Their relationship had gone through something of a healing process since they took down Dreykov and the Red Room together, but her family was still a lot for anyone to handle. Most of the team was going to Iowa to spend Thanksgiving with the Barton’s. Clint had gotten it into his head to deep fry the turkey this year. It was going to be can’t-miss-entertainment according to Sam. However, you and Natasha were looking forward to a more intimate holiday.
“You really want my family to join us for Thanksgiving?” Her eyes met yours as you snuggled up on the couch together.
“I think it could be really fun. Plus, you deserve to get to spend some quality time with them that doesn’t involve death, destruction, or pigs,” you joked. 
“You don’t like mom’s pigs?” She smirked.
No, love. I do. They’re adorable. Especially once Yelena made them those personalized piggy vests,” you giggled.
“Oh, yeah… Pests!” Natasha laughed recalling the image. 
“So what do you think? A Romanoff family Thanksgiving?”
She thought for a moment before a smile reached her lips. “Okay, let’s do it. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think it could be fun,” caressing your cheek softly. 
Upon receiving Nat’s approval and confirmation that all three were available and would be there with bells on, you went into planning mode. Determined to make it a special holiday for everyone.
*^~^*
You left bright and early to hit up the grocery store the Monday before Thanksgiving. It was crucial to avoiding the out-of-stock items and the rush of, “fucking annoying slowpokes who don’t know a shallot from an onion,” you eloquently informed your wife after wiggling out of her warm hold. 
Nat mumbled something akin to, “See you later, detka,” her head buried in her pillow, as you hurriedly put on your coat, scarf, and beanie and rushed out of the house. Your car keys and shopping list clenched purposefully in your fist.
*^~^*
The front door slammed shut a couple of hours later, alerting Natasha to your arrival.
“I’m home, love!” 
“The conquering shopper has returned! How was the store?” Looking around at the mountain of groceries cluttered around you like presents under the Christmas tree. 
“It was good! I managed to get everything on the list,” removing your warm attire and running your hand smoothly through your hair. 
“I can see that, y/n. Did you leave anything for the other shoppers?” Nat smirked. 
“This is all necessary for the traditional Thanksgiving feast I have planned for us,” you explained. “Your family has never had an American Thanksgiving, so I thought why not go all out?” 
Your wife stepped carefully around your grocery maze and wrapped her arms lovingly around your neck. “Have I told you how much I love you?” 
“Not in the last twenty minutes,” jokingly glancing at the imaginary watch on your wrist before planting a tender kiss on her lips.
Natasha offered to unpack the groceries for you. Meanwhile, you set about creating a cooking timeline for the meal preparation. You were so in your element, your wife couldn’t help but smile. Your adorable expression as you typed away on your laptop reminded her of your demeanor out in the field. Focused, engaged, confident. 
*^~^*
A creature of habit, Natasha awoke the following morning for her daily run. She groggily reached over to turn off her alarm, until she realized the alarm hadn’t gone off. No, it was the clanging of pots and pans from the kitchen that tore her from her blissful sleep. Nat rolled over to your side of the bed, only to find it empty. She groaned softly and sat up; cracking her neck and stretching her arms over her head as a yawn escaped her lips.
Natasha padded down the hall toward the kitchen; still clad in her pajamas and the fuzzy socks you bought her. She turned the corner to find you floating around the kitchen in a whirlwind. Dishes in the oven and on the stove.
“Moya lyubov? You’re already in the kitchen?” Rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“No rest for the wary, sweetheart. I’ve got to get the pumpkin pie out of the way so I can get started on the sides by this afternoon,” you explained, fervently whisking your pumpkin puree into your custard mixture. You glanced around the counter like you were looking for something. “Oh, can you hand me those spice jars behind you?”
She picked up the cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger stacking them precariously on top of one another like blocks before appearing at your side.
“Nicely, done. You clearly missed your calling as a professional Jenga player.”
“Take your damned spices,” she snarked.
You sprinkled the spice mixture into the filling and let it sit. “Okay,” you said wiping your brow. “I just need to grab the pie crust out of the oven, it should be par-baked by now.”
“I got it, detka,” pulling on the oven mitts and removing the pan from the oven. 
Perfect, now we’re just going to fill the crust,” carefully pouring the custard filling. “Then this is going back in the oven at 325 for 45-60 minutes.” 
Nat carefully placed the pie back in the oven. “Shall I close, doctor?”
“Please,” in your most professional voice before lapsing into giggles. 
“Now, that’s in. We can get started on the sides. Mashed, potatoes, sweet potatoes, stuffing, cranberry feta salad,” you listed.
Two types of potatoes?”
“Oh, it’s a must, love! You get both the salty and the sweet. It’s potato perfection.”
“Hmm, just like you,” she said suggestively.
“Smooth,” you replied.
“I try.”
*^~^*
You were still in the kitchen when Natasha returned from her run. 
“Have you taken a break at all since I left?” Removing her running shoes and placing them by the front door.
“No time for breaks. Your sister just texted me and asked if Mac and Cheese was part of the American Thanksgiving tradition, so I’m whipping up one for her.”
Your wife rolled her eyes. “For God’s sake, that’s not necessary, malyshka. Yelena will survive one meal without her precious Mac and Cheese.” 
“It’s no problem. I want your family to feel comfortable! That’s why I also have a sparkling Vodka cocktail planned,” you winked. 
“That is so sweet, but there is no need to stress over it, y/n. They are going to love it no matter what you make. Plus, you know if you feed them this well they’ll never leave, right?”
“And wouldn’t that be wonderful?” You joked.
“No, it wouldn’t,” she deadpanned.
The rest of the afternoon was spent preparing the stuffing, cranberry sauce, garlic green beanies, and gravy. By the time you finally laid down on the couch Tuesday evening still in your apron, you were pleased with the progress you had made. Your legs lay across Natasha’s lap while she massaged your aching feet. She wasn’t surprised to look over and find you sound asleep five minutes later as the television glow illuminated your features. Your wife could only smile at your sleepy form before gently picking you up and carrying you off to bed.
*^~^*
Wednesday morning Natasha decided to let you sleep in, so she made the executive decision to turn your alarm off. Truthfully, she felt guilty for how hard you had been pushing yourself this week for the sake of her family. Nat was nursing a cup of tea and reading a book in the family room when she heard you down the hall.
“Oh, crap!”
“3,2,1…..”
“Nat, why didn’t you wake me up!” Throwing on your favorite cardigan as you entered the room. “I’ve still got to make the pretzel bread and raspberry jello today.”
“You needed the sleep. I can’t tell you’re exhausted, and you were sleeping so soundly when I got up.”
You had a look of panic in your eyes.
“It’s okay, y/n. I found the recipes for the jello and bread on the table and got the jump on it for you. The jello is done and in the fridge, and the bread dough is under the towel rising.”
You blinked a couple of times as if she was speaking Latin. “You cooked?” 
“Are you questioning my abilities?” Raising an eyebrow. 
“Well.… yeah? I love you sweetheart, but the only thing I’ve ever seen you make is a peanut butter sandwich.”
“See for yourself,” smiling proudly and removing her reading glasses.
Opening the fridge, you were pleasantly surprised to find a gelatinous raspberry jello staring back at you. You then peeked under the towel on the counter to find the bread dough had just about doubled in size.
“Well, turn me upside down and paint me blue!”
“Hmmm tempting, but let’s save that for after my family leaves,” Natasha smirked as she placed a kiss on the side of your temple from behind. 
“This is awesome, my love. Thank you so much,” turning around in her hold. “I have to say, the thought of the Black Widow cooking is incredibly sexy.”
“Is it now?” 
“Very, I may have to get you your own apron,” you teased, as Natasha gently grasped your ear lobe between her teeth before placing soft kisses down the side of your neck. A few moments later, her phone dinged with a text notification on the counter beside you. You glanced down at the screen out of the corner of your eye.
“It’s Yelena, sweetheart...”
“Is she on fire? Otherwise, I’m not stopping.” Moving the tender kisses to your lips. 
“No, she wants to know if she should bring anything,” you replied between kisses.
She feels bad we’re doing all the work,”
“She’s bringing our parents, that’s a shit ton of work.”
“Ain’t that the truth.”
*^~^*
The next day you and Natasha got started on the crown jewel of your Thanksgiving dinner, the turkey. After letting it thaw in the fridge all week, your twenty-pound bird had been marinating in a salt brine for the past twelve hours. You placed the turkey in the oven at 425 degrees for 35 minutes, which gave you two just enough time to get ready before it needed to be basted.
After showering and putting on your best fall colors, you heard the doorbell.
“Baby, they’re here!” you called, opening the door to welcome your guests.
Alexi was sporting a plush turkey hat, while Melina held a freshly made appetizer. Yelena, standing in front of both of them, had Fanny at her feet. She quickly stepped inside first with a warm hug and a peck on your cheek. 
“Happy Thanksgiving, y/n! Thank you so much for inviting us. “Now,” placing both hands on your shoulders. “Where is the booze? I just had to spend the last 20 minutes in the car alone with them listening to Alexi ramble on about his stupid hat.”
You point toward the coffee table holding the sparkling Vodka cocktails as your sister-in-law gives you a cheeky smile. “I love you.” 
“Haha!” Alexi exclaimed. Greetings, my wonderful daughter-in-law. I am ready for turkey!” Wrapping you in a giant bear hug.
“Could’ve fooled me, Alexi,” you joked. “Ooh Melina, what do we have here? It looks delicious.”
“A traditional Russian appetizer, Mushroom Julienne. Mushrooms and onions cooked in cream sauce, cheese, and sour cream.”
“Ugh! My mouth is already watering. Here, let me take your coats, you can place that on the coffee table,” you offered. 
After tending to the coats, you rejoined the group as everyone settled in the family room for appetizers and cocktails. Holiday music played softly in the background, setting the scene perfectly. You sat on the sofa beside your wife while your in-laws treated you to numerous stories of Natasha and Yelena’s all-to-brief childhood in Ohio. Some of which you had yet to hear. 
“Y/N, has Natalia told you how she and Yelena used to stay up late on Christmas Eve to try and catch Santa Claus?” Melina asked. 
“Now that was fun. You know, he comes down the chimney, girls. Look out! Where is he? You wait for him, and then when the cookies are gone, you see he’s there.” Alexi recalled.
Yelena smiled fondly at the memory while Natasha turned as red as Santa’s suit and hid her face in her hands.
“Aww, honey,” rubbing circles on her back. It’s precious! I’m sure you were adorable.” 
“As adorable as you can be with bright blue hair. You looked like cotton candy,” Yelena laughed. 
Nat threw a pillow across the room that barely missed her sister’s head.
“Ha!! Missed!”
“Girls, behave,” Melina ordered.
You couldn’t help but smile at the sisterly teasing and family banter. This was exactly what you were hoping for, and the evening was just getting started.
“Oh, detka, you don’t have a drink yet. Let me get you one,” Natasha offered starting to stand up, but your hand on her arm stopped her. 
“Oh, no thanks, love. I actually need to go check on the turkey.” 
“I’ll join you,” Yelena announced. “I want to see this bird you Americans are so crazy about.”
You opened the oven to reveal your delectable 20-pound turkey. “Do you want to brush it with the honey glaze for me, Lena? I’m going to check on the side dishes.” 
“Just call me DaVinci!”
You turned back around to find your sister-in-law had finished off the glazing by painting a smiley face on the turkey. 
“Wow, I didn’t know our turkey had such a charming smile,” you joked. Reducing the heat to 325 and setting the timer for another 75 minutes. 
“Thank you again for including us today, y/n. While it would’ve been fun to watch Barton sear his eyebrows off trying to deep-fry a turkey, it's been nice to see Natasha so happy. We didn’t have any family holidays growing up. Not real ones, anyway.”
“Well, you always will now,” placing an arm around her shoulder. “I will spend the rest of my life trying to make your sister happy. That’s a promise.”
While the turkey finished cooking, you decided to share as many of your own Thanksgiving traditions as you could. You watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, took in some Turkey Day football, and even played a rousing game of Pictionary.
“What the hell is that?” Yelena shouted as Nat was heavily engaged in her drawing.  
“Oooh! Ooh! A ladybug doing the Macarena!”You screamed, just before the timer ran out.
“Yes!” 
“Unbelievable, what is that five in a row,” Melina remarked. No wonder you two are such a good team.”
“Well, it's no surprise you're a pro at Pictionary. I mean, who needs talent when you can just doodle like a 5-year-old?” Yelena retorted.
“Don’t hate the player, hate the game, Lena,” dropping the marker like a microphone.
“Trust me, I do. It will be perfect for when I want to torture Kate Bishop.”
“With that, I think it’s time for dinner,” you announced happily. 
*^~^*
It only took a few minutes before your Thanksgiving feast was lovingly displayed on the dining room table. The sight and aroma of the food was a gentle massage to the soul.
“Before we dig in,” holding up your glass for a toast, “I just wanted to say how happy Nat and I are that you could join us today. We love you, and I’m so thankful to be a part of your family.”
Natasha grasped your hand and placed a soft kiss on your knuckles. 
“We feel the same way,” Melina concurred.
“Yes, we’re so happy that you and our little Natalia found each other,” Alexi added.
“Yes, y/n is a saint. It’s all very touching, can I carve the turkey now,” Yelena groaned, holding up a sharpened carving knife. 
“You may proceed,” you declared with a Queen’s wave of your hand. 
Dishes were passed around the table like musical chairs. Wine filled everyone’s glasses, while you opted for your favorite - Martinelli’s Sparkling Cider. You pretended not to notice Yelena sneaking a few scraps to Fanny under the table. The chatter rose and fell, every few moments dispersed with laughter. It was the kind of occasion most aren't aware that they're truly enjoying, yet look back at in warm nostalgia.
After hibernating for a bit in your Thanksgiving food comas, you moved back into the family room for dessert. You were excited to finally bring out the homemade Pumpkin pie topped with whipped cream.
“Ah, now this is a beautiful pie.” Look at this, girls. I love America, you cannot get this back in St. Petersburg.” Alexi gushed. 
“Y/N made it from scratch,” your wife bragged, causing you to blush at the compliment.
“Did y/n also split the atom?” Yelena teased. She earned an eye roll from her older sister. “Could you BE more whipped?”
“No, I honestly don’t think I could,” Natasha looked at you like you had hung the moon and the stars. 
*^~^*
As the evening wound down, the hustle and bustle of the past week was starting to catch up to you. Your wife didn’t miss your heavy eyelids or the tiny yawn that escaped your lips as Fanny hopped up on the couch to lay down beside you. 
“Well, we should probably get going, traffic will be annoying crossing back over the bridge,” your sister-in-law said.
“Before you go, I have gifts for all of you!” Jumping up off the couch. 
“You do?”A bewildered expression on Nat’s face. 
“I do!” You’re voice trailed away as you padded down the hall toward your bedroom.
Natasha turned around to her family with a shrug of her shoulders, no clue what you were talking about. You returned a moment later with small autumn-gold gift bags. 
“This is just a little something for each of you,” clasping your hands together in front of your smiling face. Natasha was even more confused when you handed her one as well. “Go on, sweetheart,” you encouraged.
Natasha removed the delicate tissue paper. Her strong and calloused hands met the soft cotton hiding inside. She pulled the gift out and held it up in front of her. A tiny onesie was staring back at her that read, “Mommy’s Little Turkey.” 
Natasha stared at it speechlessly wide-eyed. A first for your relationship. Finally, her brain caught up with the moment. “Moya lyubov—what? we—you…you’re pregnant?”
You nodded vigorously, starting to cry. Natasha’s hands cupped your cheeks. Her lips met yours in a heartfelt kiss, not caring in the slightest that her family was watching. You gently combed your fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck, returning the kiss.
Melina, Alexi, and Yelena held up their onesies to find variations of Natasha’s: Grandma’s Little Turkey, Grandpa’s Little Turkey, and Auntie’s Little Turkey.” 
“I knew it!”Yelena shouted.
She turned to Natasha and whispered, “You see what can happen when you keep your heart,” holding her lovingly in her arms.  
Vashe zdorov'ye! (Cheers) Alexi exclaimed. If it is a boy you will name him Alexi. It is a strong and honorable name!” Kissing you on both cheeks.
“Oh God,” Yelena muttered under her breath. “For the love of Fanny, please don’t do that,” wrapping her arms around you. “I would love to babysit. There is much I’m looking forward to passing on to my niece or nephew.”
“Yeah, that’s not terrifying at all,” your wife mumbled in your ear. 
The shock wearing off, Natasha reached down and gently placed her palm on your stomach. You weren’t showing yet, but just knowing that your child was growing inside you awakened a dream that she had put away in the Red Room long ago. 
*^~^*
Once her family left, Natasha insisted that she would handle the post-holiday clean-up, confining you to the couch with a plethora of pillows and a fluffy blanket. Foreshadowing what was to come for the duration of your pregnancy. 
“Sweetheart, those dishes go in the top right cupboard,” directing her from the couch.
“No worries, malyshka. I got it! You just take it easy. The baby needs rest after all of this Thanksgiving cheer,” her protective instincts make an appearance.
“The baby is the size of a plum, my love,”
“A very tired plum!” 
*^~^*
Thirty minutes later the kitchen was clean and you both were ready for a good night’s sleep. You would never admit it to your wife, but boy, were you tired. You donned your coziest pajamas and joined Natasha in bed. Snuggled into the covers, you found comfort and peace in your safe space. Nat rolled over to face you, your foreheads touching in a beautifully intimate gesture of love and affection. 
“This has been the best day of my life. Not only did you give my family an amazing Thanksgiving, you gave me a gift I’ll never forget. Though I have to admit now that I know you’re pregnant, I’m replaying the last week in my head in a loop of horrifying anxiety.” 
You giggled at her confession, “It’s alright, Nat. I’m ready for a nice long rest, and I just had a check-up with Helen last week.”
“Wait, does the team know?” 
“Dear God, no. You think that group can keep a secret?”
“We can tell them at Stark’s Christmas party in a couple of weeks if you’re comfortable with the idea.” 
“Perfect. I need a couple of weeks to prepare for the onslaught of attention from our little one’s aunts and uncles.”
Natasha reached over and grabbed your hand. “I love you, y/n. I can’t wait to welcome our little plum into the world,” she smiled.
“I love you too. You are going to be an amazing mother, sweetheart.”
“Happy Thanksgiving, y/n”
“Happy Thanksgiving, Natasha.”
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