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#i don’t need to explain my smartness to anyone. i can just be smart in this way. maybe that’ll get easier as i practice it
waitimcomingtoo · 5 months
Text
A Film By Peter Parker
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Synopsis: Peter gets back into making little videos once the two of you start hanging out
warning: extreme 2017 homecoming era nostalgia
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Of course he went for Liz.
Liz was the ingénue. She was perfect in every possible way. Perfect grades, perfect face, and the perfect boy pining after her. You’d been crushing on Peter since the third grade but with Liz around, he never noticed you.
But Liz was gone now. She had moved to Oregon following her dad’s arrest and taken Peter’s feelings for her with her. Now that she was gone, you decided it was time to stop pining after Peter from afar and start pining from up close. And so, when you walked into the cafeteria that day, you didn’t sit at the end of the table like you usually did.
“Oh, hey.” Peter smiled in surprise when you sat down next to him. Smiling was good. Smiling meant he wasn’t creeped out by you sitting so close. You gulped before giving him best smile back.
“Hi.”
“What are you doing here?” Ned asked, making Peter give him a look. You immediately regretted your decision and wished you’d just stayed in your usual spot.
“What do you mean? She always sits with us.” Peter pointed out.
“No, she always sits down there. She’s never actually sat with us before.” Ned replied and gestured to the end of the lunch table.
“Yes, but I’m sitting here today because I needed Peters help with the chemistry homework.” You said and put your chemistry notebook on the table. You knew you couldn’t just randomly sit with them without a reason, so you came prepared.
“Oh, for Mr. Eddie’s class? It’s easy. I’ll show you my notes.” Peter’s offered with a smile. You returned the smile as he pulled out his own notebook. It was a win/win for you since you actually needed help with the homework and it would start a conversation with Peter. While he was explaining the problem to you, you never once looked down at the notebook. You were too focused on the curve of Peter’s suspiciously long eyelashes, the longest you’d ever seen on a boy. Ned noticed the way you were staring his his best friend and frowned a little.
“Does that make sense?” Peter’s asked when he was done explaining.
“Yeah, it does. Wow, thanks Peter. It sounds so easy the way you explain it. I wish this stuff came as naturally to me as it does for you. You’re so smart.” You said as if you had listened to a single word he had said.
“That’s nice of you to say but I’m really not that smart. I just like chemistry.” He replied as he blushed from the compliment.
“Oh, come on. You’re the smartest guy I know. You’re the only one that answers questions in that class. And you always get them right. When Mr. Eddie asks if anyone has any questions, I don’t raise my hand because I don’t even know what I’m confused about yet.”
“That’s I feel in English. I can barely make it through the first line in a poem and you’re already going back and forth with Ms. Teague about Pindaric odes or whatever they’re called.”
“You listen to when I talk in English?” You asked with a soft smile.
“Of course I do.” Peter shrugged. “I always find the reading boring until you raise your hand and talk about how you interpreted it. You make it interesting.”
“I liked that book we read when the kids ate the other kids.” Ned said and interrupted the moment. Your smile dropped as you and Peter looked at him with disgust.
“The one with the flies-“
“We know.” Peter cut him off.
“Anyways, thank you for helping me with the homework. I’ve been stuck on it all week.” You said to Peter.
“Ugh. That’s been me with my paper for Mrs. Teagues class. And it’s due tomorrow.” Peter groaned.
“Oh, the analysis essay? I could help you with that.” You offered.
“Really? You’d help me?” Peter smiled in surprise.
“Yeah. I already wrote mine. It would be no problem.”
Ned was watching this back and forth conversation for a while until it clicked it in head. He gasped and slapped the table, making you and Peter look at him.
“Oh my God.” Ned said. “That’s why you’re sitting here. You have a-“
“Can I talk to you for a second, Ned?” You quickly cut him off when you realized where that sentence was going. Before Ned could even answer, you grabbed his arm and pulled him outside the cafeteria to talk in private.
“You like Peter!” Ned whispered harshly. You clamped your hand over his mouth and pushed him up against the wall.
“You need to keep your mouth shut.” You hissed. “Yes, I like Peter, okay? I’ve had a crush on Peter since middle school. He never noticed me when Liz was around but now that she’s in Oregon, I might finally have my chance. I don’t want to scare him off so just keep your mouth shut and let me handle this.”
You took your hand off Ned’s mouth and he started to gasp for air.
“Oh, please. Your nose wasn’t covered. You could breathe just fine.” You said with a roll of your eyes. Ned stopped pretended and straightened up.
“So you actually like Peter? For his personality?”
“Yes. Is that so hard to believe?”
“Kinda, yeah.” Ned admitted.
“I like everything about him. And I’m gonna tell him that. Just please, don’t say anything before I do. I’ll tell him when I’m ready.”
“Are you going to cast a love spell on him using a lock of his hair?” Ned whispered to you.
“What? No. Why would you even ask me that?”
“Because you’re a witch.” Ned said like it was obvious.
“I’m not a witch.” You groaned. “I just accidentally cackled that one time but it was only because I had phlegm in my throat.”
“Then about that time on the bus?”
“We’ve been over this. It was just a coincidence that that biker fell off his bike after I gestured with my hand. I didn’t move him with my mind.”
“And that one time in physics?” Ned narrowed his eyes.
“I still don’t know how that guys shirt caught on fire.” You shrugged. “It’s a mystery to me.”
“It caught on fire after he made fun of you for being a witch.” Ned pointed out.
“Maybe he was just standing too close to the flame.” You shrugged.
“He was standing in the doorway. There was no flame.” Ned reminded you.
“The magic of science.” You shrugged again.
“But what about that time-“
“Don’t bring up the nosebleed.” You whined.
“I am gonna bring up the nosebleed.” Ned hissed. “In sixth grade, our Spanish teacher got a nosebleed right after he told you to stop staring out the window and made everyone laugh at you. How do you explain that?”
“You’ve made your point, okay? Now are you gonna tell Peter or not?”
“Look, I’m not gonna expose your gross secret feelings, as gross and secret as they may be.” Ned sighed. “But Peter is still my best friend so I have to look out for him. I don’t want any spells cast on him.”
“That’s fine. There will not be any spells.” You held your your hands in defense. Just then, Flash walked by and laughed when he saw the two of you talking.
“Woah. What is this, the friendless loser convention?” Flash snorted.
“Shut up.” You snapped. Flash immediately tripped over his feet and fell to the ground, making Ned look at you with wide eyes.
“Witch!” He whispered harshly as he pointed a finger at you.
“Shut up. Let’s go back inside.” You rolled your eyes and pulled Ned back into the cafeteria.
Later that day, you met up with Peter in the library to go over your assignments. You started with his English essay and finished that within an hour before moving on to your chemistry homework.
“You can plug the numbers into your formula now using the method I taught you. And then you just solve for x.” Peter explained as you worked out a problem together.
“Hm. You make it sound so simple.” You sighed and leaned on your hand. Peter saw the way you were staring at him in his peripheral vision and felt his face heat up.
“It’s, uh, it’s pretty easy once you get the hang of it. I never liked the way Mr. Eddie taught it. I figured this out myself and it’s worked much better for me.”
“Thanks for helping me. You’re a good teacher.” You said and put your hand on his arm. Peter laughed shyly at the contact and cleared his throat.
“Thanks. And so are you. That was the best essay I’ve ever produced. I honestly worry she won’t believe I wrote it.”
“Well if she says anything, I can vouch for you. You put in good work on this essay. You deserve the credit.” You assured him, making Peter blush all over again. It occurred to Peter that he never realized how pretty you were. You’d been classmates since 3rd grade so he always looked at you as just another girl in his class. Now that you had his full attention, he didn’t feel like looking away.
“Thanks. I appreciate you helping me write it. I know it can be frustrating to work with me because of my dyslexia.”
“It’s no problem. And it wasn’t frustrating at all.” You shrugged. Peter smiled at felt better about how long it took him to write the essay.
“Thanks.” He said. You had successfully gotten him to spend time with you one on one but now you needed to commence the next phase in your plan which was to hang out in a non school related setting.
“Would you ever want to hang out socially?” You blurted.
“Like, and not do homework?” He asked. You nodded your head and he smiled before nodding as well.
“Yeah. Sure. I’d love to.”
“Cool. Me too.” You smiled. You hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that but it worked nonetheless.
“Does this weekend work?” He asked you.
“Yeah. What do you want to do?”
Hard cut to that weekend. You were on the subway with Peter and he had his phone out to record himself.
“Firts social hang out with a girl. A film by Peter Parker.” He said in a low voice before flipping the camera to face you.
“Staring me.” You smiled and waved to the camera.
“Are you sure you’re cool with me filming this?” Peter asked as he flipped the camera back to himself.
“Yeah, of course. The other ones you showed me were so cute. But why did it seem like there were so many missing parts? You were always talking about something cool that I didn’t get to see.”
“Uhhh, no reason.” Peter said and looked to the side. He had skillfully edited out any incriminating superhero activity that you were not ready to see yet.
“Well I like it. I feel like I’m on Modern Family.” You said and posed for the camera.
“Which family member would you be?” Peter laughed and zoomed in on you. With his phone blocking his face, he could shamelessly admire your face on his screen.
“Duh. Lily.”
“I can so see that.” He chuckled. The subway lurched suddenly and you both grabbed onto the pole, coincidentally putting your hands in top of each others.
“Oh, sorry. Our hands touched.” You laughed shyly.
“Oh my God. So romantic.” Peter joked, making you blush and look into his camera.
“Stop it.” You laughed and covered his phone with your hand. He laughed as well and put his phone away.
After learn you had never been, Peter decided to the Lego Store. He’d been hyping it up to you all week over text and now that it was finally happening, he hoped it impressed you. You walked in together and Peter heard you gasp.
“Big Lego Aladdin.” You gasped and ran to stand under the giant magic carpet and Aladdin made of Legos.
“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard that string of words come out of someone’s mouth.” Peter laughed and went to stand under it with you. You looked over at him and were surprised to see he was already looking at you.
“This is even better than you described it. You need to show me everything.” You said and excitedly shook his arm.
“I can do that.” He blushed and nodded his head towards some of the sets.
Peter took out his phone to film you as you looked at everything in the store. The way you were looking around like a little kid brought a smile to Peter’s face. He zoomed in on you and caught himself staring at you fondly through the camera.
“Come on. I haven’t even showed you the coolest part yet.” Peter said and brought you over to the build your figure own station. He laughed when you gasped again and started to excitedly rummage through all the pieces. Peter didn’t bring his phone out again until you had built each other.
“Show me what you made.” He laughed from the other side of the phone.
“Looks! It’s a little Peter. He has a backpack and a beaker.” You said as you proudly showed the camera the little Peter figure you had made.
“This is Y/n. I can’t believe I found the shoes you always wear.” He said as he filmed the figure he had made of you.
“You notice my shoes?” You asked with a smile. Peter didn’t catch it because he was too busy fitting the hands of your Lego figures together.
“Look. They’re holding hands.” Peter gasped.
“Aw.” You laughed. “Us on the subway.”
“We should give them some privacy. They might not want us to hard launch their relationship.” Peter said and put his phone away.
“You’re so cute.” You laughed without thinking about it. Peter looked up at you with rosy cheeks and you gulped when you realized what you said.
“I mean-“
“Come on. I wanna take you somewhere else.” He cut you off before you could explain. He brought you to Delmar’s and ordered his usual for you to split. You sat together inside and you tried your best to remain calm. You always wondered what Peter got up to when he wasn’t at school and now you were in one of his favorite places and eating with him.
“Okay, this is Y/n’s first time eating at Delmars since he reopened. Let’s get her reaction.” Peter said as he filmed you unwrapping the sandwich.
“Wait, why is it so flat?” You laughed and held the sandwich up.
“Oh, sorry.” He chuckled. “I forgot to warn you that he always squishes it for me. But you’ll like it. Trust me. It’s much better when it’s squished down real flat.”
“Well I’m glad I now know you like your sandwiches to be squished. I would not have expected that about you.” You said and took a bite of your half before giving him a thumbs up.
“Yeah? You like it?” He asked hopefully.
“I do. Your squishy sandwich was surprisingly good.” You admitted.
“Well, I’m very pleased to hear that.” Peter smiled and phone away. “So to make it even, you have to show me one of your favorite places next time we hang out.”
“Oh.” You smiled coyly. “I didn’t realize there would be a next time.”
“There better be. I had a lot of fun with you today. How come we’ve never hung out before?”
“I don’t know. I always wanted to but you were busy running around with Ned or staring at…” You trailed off and chose not to mention Liz in case he was still hung up on her.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m just glad we’re friends now.” You said instead.
“Me too. I’ve never had a girl friend.”
“What was that?” You said and started choking on your saliva.
“All my friends in my life were guys. It’ll be nice to have a female influence in my life.”
“Oh. Girl friend.” You smiled tightly.
You hung out another hour before taking the subway back to your respective apartments. Peter walked to you the front doors of you building and you had an awkward moment where you didn’t know if you should hug or not.
“We uh, we should probably get an ending for your film.” You said with a timid smile.
“Oh, right. Thats a great idea.” Peter smiled and pulled out his phone. He pressed record and you waved to the camera with both hands.
“So, can you give our first time hanging out a rating?” He asked you.
“9/10.” You grinned and held up two thumbs.
“What? Why’d I only get a 9?” Peter scoffed and pretended to be offended.
“I had a 10/10 time but I have to deduct a point because we saw that guy cutting his hair on the subway and I was scared he was gonna throw the scissors at us.”
“Well I would’ve just protected you with my lightning fast reflexes.” Peter said simply. You smiled at him through the phone and he smiled back. He put the camera down and looked at you with a content smile on his face.
“Seriously, though. When’s the next time we’re hanging out?”
It ended up being just a few days later. And then again a few days after that.
“Peter’s first time!” You cheered as you filmed him during one of your hang outs.
“Trying boba.” He clarified. “I don’t understand this drink. Do I eat the balls?”
“Yes. Sip it slowly so they don’t all go down your throat.” You instructed. Peter took a big sip and immediately started choking.
“Peter! I said slowly!” You said as you slapped his back until he stopped choking. You quickly put the camera down to help him recover.
Your hangouts started getting more and more frequent and Peter soon considered you a best friend. Your weekends became each others and school days were often spent together in the library or at one of your apartments. You were quickly moving up the ranks in Peter’s life, just as you hoped. And the closer you got, the more Peter could not believe he had never noticed you before.
Little did you know, Peter often found himself watching the footage he had taken of you during your hang outs with a big smile on his face. He’d rewatch the videos he had taken and realize that they were slowly becoming less of a documentary and more of a highlight reel for you. He never imagined a girl as cool as you would for him so when he realized he was starting to fall for you, he quickly repressed his feelings. Little did he know, the feelings were mutual.
“Did you always make these little videos?” You asked Peter one day as he filmed you trying to balance on the curb of the sidewalk.
“I used too make them all the time but I hadn’t for awhile. I only started them again when we started hanging out.”
“Really? Why?” You wondered and stumbled off the curb.
“I don’t know. You remind me of the time before my life got crazy. It made me want to do these again.” He shrugged. You couldn’t help but smile at that information and turned around to look at him.
“So I could be the star?” You asked and posed for the camera.
“Exactly. You’re my muse.” He played along, making you laughed shyly. When he watched the video back later that night, he knew he had meant every word of that.
Peter sat in his bedroom one day and filmed himself wearing your glasses while you did homework at his desk. He looked over you every now and then just to admire the back of your head.
“Don’t break those.” You called without looking up. All you needed to hear was the sound of your glasses case opening to know what he was doing.
“I’m not even wearing your glasses.” He lied and admired himself in the camera.
“Yes you are.”
“No I’m not. But yes, I am.”
“Knew it.” You snorted.
“Hey, how come girls always smell so good?” Peter wondered. “Your hair hit me in the face when you turned too fast before it smelled like a baby in a damn meadow.”
“It’s just my womanly essence. Now can you stop looking at yourself long enough to help me with my chemistry homework?”
“It’ll be hard but I can try.” Peter dramatically sighed and set his phone down. You got yo from the desk and went over to the bed with a cheeky smile on your face.
“Incoming.” You announced and patted your elbow twice like a wrestler.
“No, don’t.” He pleaded. You ignored his pleas and jumped on top of him. He groaned and pushed you off, leaving you laying in the bed beside him.
“Ow. My ribs.”
“You’ll heal.” You rolled your eyes. “Now can you help me with number 7?”
“Oh, yeah. No problem. Can you check this email before I send it?” He asked and handed over his laptop. You handed him your worksheet before reading over his email draft.
“Oh, honey.” You grimaced just a few words into the email.
“Is it bad?”
“Good evening, Mrs. Howard. I hope this email finds you well. I’m so sorry for bothering you. I was just wondering if I could possibly have an extension on my midterm paper? No worries at all if an extension is not possible. I apologize for any inconvenience this email may have caused. Thank you for reading, Peter Parker.” You read out loud.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“After your name, you included the name of the class, the time you have it, and a description of yourself. She knows who you are!” You laughed and turned the laptop around to show him his mistakes.
“She may have forgotten.” He pointed out. “I can’t take any chances.”
“Peter, this email is way too submissive. You sound like such a bottom.”
“Well excuse me, genius.” He said sarcastically. “How would you write it?”
“Here.” You said and handed the laptop back after retyping his email.
“Oh, wow. That’s actually really good.” He said once he read your updated version.
“This is why we are such good friends. You have all the math and science knowledge in this little, beautiful head of yours-“
“Little?” He interrupted.
“You’re right. Sorry, I was just being nice. What I meant to say is that your head is huge.” You corrected. “Anyways, you have the math brain and I have the literary brain. It’s like you’re Einstein and I’m Victor Hugo.”
“Who the hell is that?” He laughed as he peaked at your mirror to see if his head was actually huge.
“The guy who wrote Les Mis.” You said like it was obvious.
“Never heard of it.”
“What? You’ve never seen Les Misérables?” You asked in a thick French accent.
“Huh?”
“We have to watch it. It’s so good.” You said and snatched his laptop back. You pulled up the movie and handed it back to him.
“Oh my God. It’s two hours and 38 minutes long? And a musical? Hell no.” Peter shook his head and pushed the laptop away.
“But it’s so good.” You urged. “We can just leave it on in the background while we work. It’s super light and easy to watch.”
“Really? What’s it about?”
“Oh, you know. Just war torn France.” You mumbled.
“No. Absolutely not.”
“But you’ll like it! There’s prostitution and con men and um…oh! And orphans! You can watch it and feel represented.” You said and shook his arm.
“I hate you.” He laughed but nearly gave in to your request just to see you happy.
“Fine.” You huffed. “I finished editing your midterm paper, by the way. You don’t actually have to send that email.”
“And here is your completed chemistry homework.” Peter smiled and handed your worksheet back.
“Aw.” You gushed. “Look at us. I love cheating with you.”
“So do I. We make a great pairing.” He chuckled as he looked over at you. You looked back at him and gulped. You hadn’t realized how close you were with your arms and legs pressed against each other as you sat together in your bed. Peter knew his sheets would smell like your perfume that night and smiled at the thought.
“Now that we’re all done with our work, you know what we should do?” He asked as he moved in closer.
“W-what should we do?” You stuttered now that he was right there.
“You know what I’ve been dying to do with you for a long, long time?” He asked.
“No. I mean, I don’t know. What?” You laughed nervously. Peter moved in even closer and right when you thought he was gonna kiss you, he reached over and grabbed his laptop back.
“I wanted to show you a real musical. Not this French miserable bull crap. Have you ever seen a little movie called Hair-“
“No. I’m not watching Hairspray with you again. You scream-sang every lyric last time and I couldn’t even hear it.” You cut him off and reached over home to take the laptop back. He pulled it away at the last second and you ended up on top of him. You looked into each others eyes and both froze in the positions you were in. Your faces were almost touching but neither of you tried to pull away. Your eyes were going back and forth between his lips and eyes and he was doing the same. Like magnets, you two started to lean towards each other but before your lips could connect, May opened the door.
“What did you guys want- oh! Sorry! I didn’t realize I would be interrupting something. My bad.” May smiled sheepishly and pretended to cover her eyes. Peter burned bright red as you quickly climbed off of him.
“May.” He said warningly.
“Sorry. But maybe lock the door next time. And use protection.”She whispered the last part before shutting the door.
“May!” He groaned and threw a pillow at the door. There was a long, awkward silence before you were even able to look at each other. When you finally did, you smiled awkwardly and kept your distance.
“That was so weird. What did she think we were doing?” You laughed nervously to break the silence.
“Psh. I know.” Peter scoffed. “She said she was interrupting but we weren’t even doing anything.”
“Yeah. What did she think? That we were gonna kiss or something?” You asked and laughed like it was the most ridiculous thing you could ever suggest.
“Us? Kissing? How silly. Imagine that.” Peter forced a laugh as well and looked to the side. The awkward silence returned and you struggled to look at each other.
“Do you think she made dinner?” Peter asked after a beat of silence.
“Let’s check.” You said and quickly got off the bed.
You didn’t discuss the almost kiss and went home shortly after. You couldn’t sleep that night because you couldn’t stop replaying the moment in your mind. No matter how much you wanted him to like you back, if Peter reciprocated your feelings, he would have kissed you.
Your pity party didn’t last long because on the subway the next day, you felt Peter put his earbud in your ear. You heard the Les Mis soundtrack playing in your ear and looked up in surprise. Peter was already filming you with a huge smile on his face.
“This guy 24601 should stop stealing bread and stick to singing. He has serious pipes.” Peter said.
“You listened to it?” You melted into a smile and held your hand over your heart.
“Yep. I stayed up all night watching lyric videos because I couldn’t understand what they were saying with their accents. It’s actually really good. I love Eponine. I just wish Marious wasn’t such an idiot. How does he not see that his best friend is clearly in love with him?” Peter asked with exasperation. You looked directly at the camera and hoped it picked up the irony before looking at Peter again.
“He’s not an idiot. He’s a romantic.” You sighed. “He doesn’t notice Eponine because he’s in love with Cosette. And course he is. She’s prettier and richer and has perfect hair. He doesn’t even see Eponine.”
“Good hair isn’t everything. Eponine is way better than Cosette.” Peter scoffed. “I’m team Eponine all the way.”
“Are you really?” You asked hopefully.
“Oh, for sure. I see why you like this stuff. These songs are awesome.” Peter said and put the other earbud in his ear. He then flipped the camera around to film the two of you sharing earbuds. As Heart Full Of Love played in your ears, you couldn’t help but longingly staring at Peter. The fact that he had stayed up late just to listen to something you suggested made you overcome with fondness for him. If he had done something like that, maybe he actually did feel the same.
“I forgot how good this album is. I haven’t listened in a while. I used to listen to it all the time back when you…” You stopped short when you realized you were about to say too much.
“When I what?” Peter wondered. You looked him in the eyes and decided that it was time to be honest. The song ended and a new, much louder one began to play in your ears.
“Back when you liked Liz. She was Cosette. I was Eponine. I was the one pining after a guy who never noticed me because he was in love with another girl. You were never mine to lose.” You admitted. Peter stared at you for a minute before pulling his earbud out.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear a word you just said. Master of the House is such a banger. What did you say?” He asked you.
“Never mind.” You smiled. “It wasn’t important.”
He smiled back before getting a text on his phone. You looked at his phone when you heard it buzz and realized he was still recording. In other words, he had just recorded you saying you liked him. Your eyes went wide but you only had a second to panic when you read the text he had gotten.
“Did Liz just text you?” You asked in a quiet voice. You felt like you were about to throw up. Years of crushing on a boy who liked another girl turned into months of pinning for your best friend and now turned into a rock in your stomach. Peter stopped recording the two of you to answer her text, which felt a little like a slap in the face.
“Oh, yeah. We’ve been talking lately.” He absentmindedly replied to you as he laughed at whatever she had written.
“You have?” You asked with a dry mouth.
“Yeah. She says Oregon is pretty cool. But she wants to come back and visit this summer to see everyone.” He told you.
“And see you?” You asked with a sad smile.
“I guess so.” He shrugged. “It would be nice to see her.”
“Yeah. Totally.” You said weakly. “So how long have you guys been talking?”
“I don’t know. A few weeks? She texted me a little while ago and we’ve been catching up.”
“That’s awesome.” You lied.
“I know. I didn’t think I’d ever hear from her again after she moved.”
“Neither did I.” You said through a forced smile. You needed to get off the subway and away from Peter before you started crying. So as soon as the subway doors opened, you bolted out.
“I gotta go. See you later.” You called to him before running through the subway station. You wiped tears as you went up the stairs and didn’t stop moving until you were in a bathroom stall at school. You gave yourself five minutes to be upset before drying your face and leaving the bathroom. It sucked, but it could have been worse. Now, Peter never had to know how you felt about it.
Peter was beyond confused by your exit on the subway but he wasn’t about to get any answers from you. You dodged his texts throughout the day and didn’t dare go into the lunchroom where you knew he and Ned would be.
“Y/n isn’t here yet?” Peter’s huffed as he sat down at your usual lunch table.
“Not yet. Actually, I haven’t seen your girlfriend all day.” Ned realized.
“She’s not my girlfriend.” Peter blushed. “And I’m pretty sure she’s avoiding me. She’s been so weird ever since this morning. Everything was fine on the subway until we got to school.”
“Well did anything happen on the subway that would weird her out? Oh no. Did you graze her boob with your hand again?”
“No. That was one time. And it was her boobs fault, not mine.” Peter whispered harshly. “We were just listening to music together and I was filming her like normal. But she could not get away from me faster once the doors opened. It was so weird.”
“Did you say anything weird to her? Girls don’t like it when you say weird things to them.”
“I know that. I didn’t say anything weird.” Peter replied as he pulled out his phone. He watched the video he had taken on the subway with no sound to see where he had gone wrong. All he saw was you looking at him with heart eyes which made his face heat up. But still, no evidence of where he messed up.
“I knew it. We were having a normal conversation about Les Mis and then I got a text from and then she ran. It makes no sense.”
“What was the text? Was it May saying something weird?”
“No. And stop saying weird. It doesn’t sound like a real word anymore.” Peter ordered. “And the text was just from Liz.”
“Oh shit.” Ned said when he heard this.
“What?” Peter wondered.
“Oh, Peter.” Ned sighed. “Peter, Peter, Peter.”
“What?” He asked again, annoyed now.
“Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter.”
“Are you gonna tell me what happened or just keep saying my name?”
“I can’t tell you. I’m sworn to secrecy. And I don’t want Y/n to put a hex on my family.” Ned said and held up his hands.
“Y/n swore you to secrecy? About what?”
“Can’t say.” Ned shrugged and zipped his lips.
“Does she not like Liz? And doesn’t want me to know?”
“Dude. Dude, dude, dude, dude. You are so close but so far.”
“So she does like Liz? Oh my God. Does she a crush on Liz? And she’s jealous that Liz texted me and not her?” Peter whispered with wide eyes.
“You’re getting colder.” Ned waved his hand. “I don’t even know how you got there.”
“That was all my guesses. Just tell me.” Peter whined.
“Hell no. I don’t want Y/n to curse my crops and make not grow for all of eternity.”
“You don’t have crops.” Peter pointed out.
“I could develop some.” Ned snapped.
“I just don’t understand what she would tell you something but not tell me. We’re best friends. She usually tells me everything.” Peter said right as his thumb accidentally hit the volume button on the video. Your confession to Peter on the subway was heard loud and clear by the two boys. Both of their jaws dropped as the video ended with you asked if Liz had just texted Peter.
“Well I wouldn’t have beaten around the bush like that if I knew you had video evidence of her saying she liked you right in your hands.” Ned sighed dramatically.
“I need to find her.” Peter said and ran out of the lunchroom. He looked around the school until he found you under the bleachers in the gym. You were sitting with your back against the wall and your knees drawn to your chest with your earbuds in your ears. When you saw Peter coming up to you, you quickly pulled them out.
“Hey.” He said and waved cautiously.
“Hey.” You smiled sadly as he sat beside you. You sat in silence for a minute as neither of you knew what to say.
“What’s going on with you? I haven’t seen you all day.” He started off. You looked at your hands to avoid making eye contact and sighed.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been talking to Liz?” You asked quietly.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t hiding it. I just didn’t think it would interest you.”
“Well you have no idea how interesting I found it.” You laughed dryly. “What do you guys talk about anyway?”
“Well, she originally texted me to ask me to confirm I had an internship at Stark Industries because her boyfriend didn’t believe her when she told him she knew a guy who worked there. Apparently he’s been trying to get an internship there for years and he wanted to know how I landed mine. Then we just started catching up. I only talk to her here and there, though. And it’s only ever about school or work.”
“Oh. I thought you guys were talking talking.” You couldn’t help but smile a little when you heard the word “boyfriend.”
“No.” He shook his head. “Just regular talking. When you saw her text on my phone, she was telling me about her cat getting spaded. And I didn’t know what that meant so she had to tell me. I should’ve just googled it.”
You laughed softly at that and he did too. The tension was let out of the conversation and you could finally breathe again. When you stopped laughing, you finally looked in his eyes.
“Do you still have feelings for her?” You asked quietly.
“For her? No.” He laughed. “Those are long gone. I have feelings for someone else now.”
“Oh God. Don’t even tell me. I don’t want to know.” You groaned and buried your face in your hands. Peter looked at you for a minute until an idea came to him.
“Actually, uh, I came looking for you because I was just making another video. Wanna be in it?” Peter asked and took out his phone. You looked at him like he was crazy and could not believe he had just asked that during that moment.
“I’m not really in the mood right now, P.”
“Come on. I can’t make it without my muse.” He said and nudged you slightly. You couldn’t help but to smile at that and reluctantly nodded. He propped up his phone against the bleachers and pressed record.
“In a world where two best friends have no idea how to communicate despite spending way too much time together.” Peter said in a fake deep, gravely voice.
“Okay. Shade. That’s fine.”
“What will it take for them to admit they have feelings for each other?” He kept the voice as he looked at you.
“Wait, what?” You asked and looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. Peter smiled softly at you and shrugged a little.
“What’s it gonna take?” He asked again in his normal voice.
“I don’t understand.” You laughed nervously.
“I watched the video from before. From the subway. I heard what you said.” He admitted.
“Oh shit. You watched it?” You grimaced.
“Uh huh. So if you’re Eponine, I guess that makes me the idiot who didn’t realize his best friend was in love with him?”
“I guess so.” You said with a tight smile and still didn’t understand why he wanted to film this incredibly awkward conversation.
“You know, if I didn’t have a video of it, I never would have believed that you liked me.” Peter told you.
“You wouldn’t? Why not?”
“Because it doesn’t seem possible that the coolest girl I’ve ever met liked me.” He replied.
“You think I’m cool?” You asked skeptically.
“I think you’re the coolest. And you know, I watch the videos I take of you all the time. And half of them are just clips of you existing. So I do notice you. It just took me a second to catch up.” He told you. A smile tugged at your lips as you stared into his big brown eyes.
“You’re my best friend.” You told him. “I’m sorry I want more.”
“I’m not sorry.” He shrugged.
“You’re not?”
“I’m just sorry it took me so long to wake up and find that what I’ve been looking for has been here the whole time.” He said as he hooked his pinky under your chin and brought your face close to his.
“Wait, why does that sound so familiar?” You wondered.
“Don’t think about it too hard.” Peter whispered right before your lips touched. You kissed for the first time under the bleachers but it could have been in a palace for all you knew. The world disappeared around you as Peter slipped a hand behind your head to deepen the kiss. When you pulled away, you rested your foreheads together and laughed nervously together. It was a good nervous, a happy feeling of anticipation.
“Was that Taylor Swift?” You realized when you finally placed where you knew that like from.
“Shh. No.” He shook his head. “But yes, it was. You’re not the only one with good music taste.”
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notafunkiller · 3 months
Text
she chose me
Summary: Steve's hopes get crushed when he wrongly assumes you'd choose him over Bucky.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x agent!female reader
Warnings: 18+, no condom (but f is on birth control), teasing, pet names, jealousy, sergeant + sir + daddy kìnk, vibranium arm kìnk, language, degrading, praising, no mention of y/n etc.
Word Count: 6.9K
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: I really hope you’ll enjoy it! This was inspired by the "She chose me." TikTok trend.
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
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You’re all quiet, watching the back and forth between Cap and Bucky. Not even Sam intervenes.
“You didn’t-”
“This is just not gonna work, Buck.”
Bucky rolls his eyes, with an expression you like to describe as bitchy. He’s so sassy without even intending to, and you wonder how bitchier he’d be if this wasn’t his best friend talking.
“Let’s see if people agree.”
He looks around waving at you and the rest of the team while Sam just snorts, covering his mouth with his hand.
But you’re not amused because you have no idea how to handle this diplomatically.
“Whose side are you on?” Steve’s tone is deep and authoritative, making you feel a little uneasy.
You don’t know how to talk to Avengers sometimes. You are on friendly terms, even when you train. Sam always cracks jokes, Steve shares stories and gives advice, and Bucky is Bucky. Nat and Sam call him The Machine for a reason. But he’s a really good professor and an even better observer. He pays attention to every recruit and remembers what they need to work on. You find him extra intimidating because he’s also the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. No exaggeration. And it’s not in the usual clean and golden boy way you are used to, anyway. He’s been through shit and it’s showing in the way he carries himself and doesn’t talk much when it’s not needed.
But you pay attention too, and this is why you think you were chosen to lead the recruits for this mission. You are on good terms with the Avengers, and Bucky probably approved the idea of working with you because you didn’t piss him off like most do. You know he hates chit chat, you learned how to read most of his stares and to not take it personally when he makes remarks about your fighting skills. They’re not your strongest asset, but you have a flair and you come up with the best solutions under pressure. You managed to pin him down once for a few seconds, and that is probably your greatest achievement.
But in moments like this, you don’t know how to say things without upsetting one side.
“You won’t get in trouble, don’t worry,” Bucky adds confidently. You’re not surprised when four out of your six colleagues agree with Bucky. They explain quickly why, emphasizing how much faster and efficient it would be if you followed that route, but their voices are still trembling. And you get it. Telling Captain America to his face you prefer his best friend’s plan over his will always be a risk. But if he gets mad, that says more about him as a leader than about anyone else.
Sam raises his hands in the air defensively, probably enjoying this as a show, but based on the looks he shares with Bucky, it seems like he agrees with him too.
You try to find your words, knowing you’re the last one from your team to speak, but before you can even open your mouth, Steve already smiles, pointing at you with his index finger. “Look at this, though! She agrees with me… She chose me.”
His grin is cold and a little arrogant. What you don’t notice, though, is the intention Steve had when he decided to use those exact words, but Bucky does. And he clenches his jaw at the same time his vibranium hand curls into a fist; a silent response to the not-so-innocent assumption that Steve made.
After a few seconds, Bucky leans in, his gaze steady and confident. “Did she?”
There is no way you would pick Steve’s plan. You are too smart and you have too much integrity to pick his side just to kiss his ass. He raises an eyebrow at you this time, a confident smirk forming on his lips. “Did you really choose him? You really think his plan would work better, doll?”
You feel surrounded by Bucky… attacked even. Your cheeks are getting hotter, too, and you know there is nothing you can do to hide your redness. Doll… He called you that when he turned you again on your back the day you managed to pin him down. It’s something about the way he says it that makes it absolutely deadly. Your first instinct was to be offended, but you reminded yourself he is a man born in 1917. He lived his twenties in the 40s, and doll was used as slang for sweetheart.
Taking a deep breath, you tilt your head slightly, directing your response to Steve. “It’s not about choosing sides, but considering all perspectives for the best outcome. And your plan, Captain, has its strengths, but I’m inclined to agree with Sergeant Bucky.” You bite your lip. “It’s about finding the most effective strategy for the mission, not a personal preference of any kind.”
Steve’s smile falls off, but your attention shifts back to Bucky’s grin that lightens up his face.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Well, then,” Steve sighs. “Can I have a word with you in private?”
You don’t realize he’s speaking to you until he says your name.
Surprised, you jump. “Yes, of course.”
*
Steve leans back in his chair, a slight smile playing on his lips as you write down the last details. “You know, I value your insights on the mission.”
You look surprised because how can he value your opinion when this is your second mission only? He’s Captain America!
“Oh?”
“I trust your judgment, and your training is going great. If you and the team chose Bucky’s plan, then we do it.” You see his jaw clench, though, so you know it’s not easy for him to say it. Even if it’s his friend… interesting. “Maybe, when all is over, we could grab a cup of coffee and talk about other things. What do you think?”
You’re silent for a couple of seconds, trying to realize if he means it in the way you think he is. There is no way, right?
Just in case, you offer him a friendly smile, “Thanks, Cap! I value our teamwork too. Coffee sounds great after. It could be a good way for all of us to unwind as a team.”
He nods, sighing. “I’m glad you’re on board. I’m looking forward to that coffee, even if it’s with the whole team. And please, call me Steve.”
So he was flirting…
“Thank you,” you pause as you stand up. “I’m gonna talk with Sergeant Barnes so we can get things ready for tomorrow. Have a good night, Steve!”
*
You knock only three times before the door opens and a Bucky dressed in shorts and a white tank top lets you in with a smirk.
“Sergeant Barnes,” you nod as you take a step inside his bedroom. He only stays here before and after missions when he is too tired to go to his apartment, so you don’t expect to see any personal objects there except for a few clothes.
“What happened to Bucky?”
You look at him surprised, tightening your hold on the tablet you are holding.
What?
“Sir?”
Bucky closes his eyes for a second. “Earlier, during the meeting, you called me Sergeant Bucky.”
Shit!
Maybe you should start calling him Sergeant Barnes in your head as well to avoid these fucks up. You feel so embarrassed that you want to disappear. You don’t want him to think you disrespect him in any way. His rank carries a lot of weight and trauma.
You clear your throat, slightly flustered. “My apologies, Sergeant Barnes. It won’t happen again, sir.” You offer him an apologetic smile while trying very hard to maintain a professional tone.
Bucky’s smirk softens as he places his flesh hand on your shoulder. You feel your legs transforming into jelly.
“My point was, doll, there is no need to be so formal. We’re off-duty here, and titles aren’t necessary. Just call me Bucky.”
“Alright, Bucky,” you smile. “I’m sorry for bothering you, but I came to discuss the plan for tomorrow. I talked to Steve and we agreed it would be wise for you to lead the way as Mr. Wilson-”
“Steve?” Bucky interrupts before you can finish your sentence. He doesn’t even bother to look at your tablet, either.
“Yes, we talked in the office.”
“No, I get that. But you call him Steve? What happened to Cap?” Bucky knows that might sound really childish, but he can’t help it. What is Steve trying to do?
Was it some kind of test? Did you misunderstand everything with Steve?
“Oh, Cap allowed me to call him Steve earlier. I am sorry if it sounded disrespectful.”
He squeezes your shoulder even before moving his hand to your chin, raising your face, and you feel yourself blushing again.
The blue of his eyes is so intense that you can’t see how anyone would be able to survive it.
“You apologize too much, doll. I don’t like it.”
You can’t breathe. “Sor-” You pause, realizing he is right. Apologizing is second nature to you. It feels wrong when you don’t, and you do it without even thinking about it. “I guess I do that a lot. I’ll work on it, Bucky.”
“I’m not your teacher right now, doll.” He smiles, letting go of your chin. “Just remember, we’re not all about formalities here. Relax a bit.”
Easier said than done. But you need to keep it together and ignore the urge to grab his face and finally kiss him. So you focus on talking about the mission and the members of the team. You talk about all of your colleagues, and Bucky helps you take notes. He switched so easily from friendly to the sergeant mode, which is fascinating.
He explains step by step your positions, the way things are gonna happen and even two back up plans. Two!
You’re not overwhelmed by the amount of information, but you’re quite surprised by how much he talks and how well he answers every possible question any of you could have. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him speak for more than a few seconds continuously so you try to focus on every word.
Only when he finishes and you close your tablet after sending everyone the plan, do you see him relaxing again.
With a smirk, he asks you, “How did Steve take it?”
“He was fine with the plan, even suggested if we feel like doing it, to get one or two more members. But based on what you said, we won’t need it.”
“He has a point, of course, but if you said you don’t think you need it, good.” You try not to stare at his lips as he speaks, but it’s so hard. “And I meant how he took that you chose my plan. That you chose me.”
You meet Bucky’s gaze, trying to keep your composure, “Steve seemed more than okay with it from what I saw. He values the team’s decision. Plus, it’s not about choosing sides, and-”
“And not a personal preference of any kind,” he interrupts just to quote you, and you don’t know if you should feel flattered he remembers word by word or to prepare yourself for a negative reaction. To be honest, your head is spinning and him being so close makes it worse. “I heard you very well, but I’m curious…”
He extends his hand and carefully tucks your hair behind your ears. You swear you can hear your own heartbeat going crazy. And if you do, so does he.
“About what?”
“Would the answer be different if it was about personal preferences, doll? Would you choose him?”
You freeze. You are simply in shock because this cannot happen to you. From Steve asking you out earlier to your crush basically doing this. You’re confused and a little tired, but you didn’t imagine all of this. Does Bucky want you? Is that it?
You take a deep breath praying you won’t choke on the words. “In a hypothetical scenario based on personal preferences, Bucky, I would still not pick him.”
Your voice is trembling, but you maintain eye contact even after admitting it. You didn’t choose Bucky’s plan because of your crush, so you shouldn’t feel embarrassed or exposed. He’s the one who let you call him Bucky, who touched you and asked you that. You don’t know if he counts romance as a personal preference, but there is an urge inside you to find out. You wonder how he’d taste, if he’d kiss you back if you kissed him first, how your mission would be if you crossed the line. Your thoughts are foggy.
“So you’d choose me.”
You clear your throat. “Yes.”
“Over Captain America.” His grin is so boyish and cute that it makes you smile. He looks younger and less… burdened when he gets like this. Bucky chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Well, well, well. Looks like I got someone not kissing Captain America’s ass for a change. That’s really rare. You’re a naughty one, aren’t you?”
You mask your gasp with a cough, deciding to play along, a sly grin forming on your face. “Maybe I just have a thing for underdogs.”
Bucky’s eyes light up with amusement to your annoyance but also excitement, and he leans in, taking the tablet from your hand and placing it on the floor without a care. “Underdogs, huh? Ouch, that hurt a little. I thought I was your favorite super-soldier.”
You can’t help but giggle, feeling enough encouragement from his reaction to touch his vibranium arm just to feel it. You got the chance to do it only for a couple of seconds and it always fascinated you, especially the golden pattern. The fact he can feel everything because it’s connected to his nerves is insane to you. It probably is to him too. “Oh, you are. And my favorite teacher too. But a little competition never hurts, Sergeant Barnes.”
You can see he feigns offense. “Competition, huh?” Bucky’s playfulness turns into a serious tone as he adds, “Well, let me show you why I’m the only choice.”
And without warning, he closes the distance between you and kisses you.
You gasp, taken aback, but you bring your hands to his face and hip before you deepen the kiss. He’s not as gentle as you expected, his left arm flying to your ass and bringing your hips closer to his immediately.
You moan when you feel his hard on so close to your pussy, and tug on his hair a little.
“Aren’t you a naughty girl?” He lowers his lips to your jaw. “I could basically smell how wet you got earlier as soon as I called you doll. And so did Steve.”
You want to open your eyes and tell him to stop talking about his friend. You don’t want to be turned off, but he already continues.
“He thought he stood a chance with my girl.”
“Your girl?” You whimper when his teeth graze your neck before his tongue licks on the spot. He intends to leave a mark, you have no doubt, and you absolutely love it.
“Mine.” His whisper makes you shiver. “I want to mark you. The thought of having you covered in hickeys during the mission makes me so hard it almost hurts. Gonna show everyone you belong to me.”
“Do I belong to you, Sergeant Barnes?” You take a step back but let your hand linger on his chest teasingly. “Because I don’t remember you asking me to dinner.”
Bucky grins. “Dinner is a classic move, and I adapted very well to the present. But of course I can stop with the kisses right now, and we can have some late dinner.”
You roll your eyes at his unbelievably good answer. Fucker!
“This is not what I meant, Barnes, and you know it.”
“I don’t know it. But I want to know something else.”
You don’t even doubt he means something dirty because it’s too obvious.
“Like what?”
“Like how your pretty pussy tastes while you come all over my face.”
You gasp at the no-filter words. You’re so used to Steve’s warning you to use proper language, that you did not expect it.
“I thought men your age were all about being proper and refined… Don’t they teach subtlety in the 40s etiquette class or did you skip it?”
You tease him on purpose, and he knows it. You are well aware what a nerd he was in school. Such a nerd that it was displayed in the museum. You snort. You were a nerd too, so you love it.
Bucky chuckles, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he brings his hands to your pants, unzipping them without warning. Holy. Shit. The way you love this. He reads your body language very well and he has his super soldier senses.
“Well, doll, proper and refined went out the window with the 40s, right? Because otherwise you’d not be standing here letting me undress you.”
You raise your eyebrow, a mix of surprise and amusement on your face. His energy is so light, and he looks like a man without a worry in moments like this.
“You’re the one who offered to show me what the little upgraded version of you can do, after all.” You take off your shoes before pulling down your pants as soon as he drags them to your ankles. You can’t believe you’re about to fuck James Bucky Barnes! “Why would I say no?”
“Just sit back and enjoy the ride, doll. Gonna make sure you have the time of your life.”
You snort, amused by his eagerness, and decide to take off your shirt yourself to see his reaction. And he doesn’t disappoint.
He grins like a child, his hands flying straight to your back without taking his eyes off your chest. And before you know it, your bra is on the floor and Bucky cups your breasts, bringing your left tit to his mouth.
If you gasped when you felt the cold touch of the vibranium, now you moan loudly, enjoying the way he licks around your skin. He avoids your nipple on purpose, so you decide to take matters into your own hands quite literally and get a grab of the top of his hair, forcing him to suck on your nipple.
“Fuck! I didn’t expect you to be so whorish,” you say without realizing, and you feel his snort and breath on the wet patch he left with his tongue.
Bucky’s grin turns into a sly smirk. “This is what you call whorish? I guess I’ll give you an experience you won’t ever forget.”
“Talk less, do more.”
You want to enjoy more of this. You have a mission in a few hours, and it might be just a one time thing anyway since he is Bucky Barnes. You don’t want to get your hopes high.
Bucky lets go of your breast with a pop and moves up, raising your head so he can kiss you.
It’s electrifying, and desperate, and not enough. You move your hands to the bottom hem of his tank top and lift it, interrupting the kiss so you can take it off completely. You just want to feel him, all of him.
You step back for a second, wanting to look at him properly, but you notice a change in his eyes that he, of course, tries to mask.
“Why are you nervous? You look like a fucking god! I should be nervous here.”
Bucky’s eyes flicker with vulnerability.
“I guess I’m not used to someone seeing my scars or my,” he waves toward his vibranium arm, and you frown.
“I will sound totally weird, but they all make you really cool, Serge.” You trace down a few scars when you see he is completely relaxed and continue. “Do I have to lick them all to make you believe me?”
You move your hands under his shorts before he can answer, though, finally touching his cock. You both moan at the feeling. He’s hard and thick, and the head is wet. You bring your fingers to his lips, smearing some of the precome before leaning in to suck it off.
You’re not prepared for his moan or for the way he attacks your mouth, and definitely not for him to snap your underwear using his flesh hand. Not even his vibranium one!
You moan into his mouth. He makes you feel like you’re floating and you need to fuck him right then.
“You’re not just whorish, you’re a whore!” You pause when you feel his fingers close to your entrance. “No wonder why you didn’t belong in the 40s.” Then you move, allowing him to touch you. You don’t realize what you said, and when you do, in the middle of dragging his shorts down, you curse yourself in your mind. It sounds like the most disrespectful thing ever. This man’s fate was changed by monsters who cryogenically freezing him and brainwashing him, and you are selfishly talking as if he belonged to you. “I’m sorry that was awful of-” But he interrupts you before you can get a chance to properly apologize.
“You like that, don’t you?”
A wave of shame surges through your body. Your cheeks are burning.
“I’m really sorry,” you take your hands off his shorts and look away, not even peaking at his cock. You ruined it, didn’t you? “I will just go.”
Bucky shakes his head, puffing. “For such an amazing agent, you’re not a good room reader, are you?”
Your eyes finally drop to his cock, which you’ve been trying to avoid in the last minute out of shame, but there’s no need anymore since he’s teasing you. He’s just a bit longer than average, and he’s really thick, and the veins do not make it ugly at all. You are curious how it’d feel in your hand, how much it’d twitch, how Bucky would moan.
“You aren’t a good room reader, either then, Barnes, since I’m not getting dicked down and my hair pulled, am I?”
Something snaps in him, and it’s visible in his eyes. You don’t know what to expect so you just watch him. But you can’t. He is so quick that, despite your crazy training, you don’t anticipate his move. His hand wraps around the hair from your nape and fists it hard enough for you to move along with him.
“Wanna be dicked down? Fine by me, get on your hands and knees.”
You’re surprised, of course you are, but his tone is firm and you find yourself nodding and doing what he told you. You know you can say no; there is nothing in Bucky’s energy that makes you feel unsafe or as if you have no choice.
At the same time, he lets go of your hair just so he can take off his shorts completely.
“Are you not gonna make sure I’m wet enough for you?” You ask when you see him getting closer to you again, even though you are very wet. You just want to push his buttons.
“I can smell you if I focus on it, let me remind you.” He smiles. “I know you’re soaked, and you wanna be dicked down. Or are you backing off?”
Challenging prick!
You roll your eyes. “I’m not scared of your dick.”
“Good, because he wants to be friends with you.”
You close your eyes, cringing. “God, you were this close to turning me off.” You raise your hand in the air, putting your weight on the left one as you bring your thumb and index finger close to each other to show him exactly what a thin line this was.
Bucky laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna make you forget it in a second.”
Your first instinct is to want to tease him about the second remark, to ask him if this is how long he can last, but you’re too horny now. And you also need rest for the mission tomorrow.
“How, uh…” You pause not knowing how to ask this properly. “Can you, uh, make babies?” You cringe at your words. “I mean, widows can’t… and I just wanted to know if we need a condom to be extra careful since you might be extra fertile because I am on the pill and I have no idea how sex with a super sold-”
Bucky’s lips press against yours suddenly, making you stop talking.
“Breathe.”
“I’m breathing,” you whisper and he cups your face.
“Not enough. We can use a condom if you want, but I’ll need to check where I can find one. Or we can go bare if you trust me… I can pull out and you are already protected, so there shouldn’t be a problem, I think.” He pauses to kiss your lips again. “But we can still use a condom anyway to be extra careful as you said.”
You frown at that, suddenly more desperate to feel him bare than ever before.
“No, I trust you. I have never done it without a condom before, and I assume you didn’t have much time to uh… have sex.”
Bucky snorts amused. “Now why do you assume that?”
“You look like you haven’t been fucked since 1945.”
The fact he doesn’t even deny it makes you feel even bolder, so you reach for his cock and place your thumb on his wet head while wrapping the rest of your hand around the length. “Are you gonna even last for a second once you’re inside me, Sergeant Barnes?” You snort when you see him trying to hold back his moan by biting his lip. It makes you feel happy. “Or do you even manage to get inside me before- ahh!” He is predictable this time as he pulls your hair, so you laugh.
“Are you familiar with this whole red, yellow, green color code?”
You gasp. “Yes, read about it, never needed it. But how do you know that?”
“I read about it, too.” His grin is so wide and beautiful that you melt again.
“Quite naughty of you, Serge. Reading dirty books. Needed some ideas?”
Bucky smirks, kissing you again and again. “Gonna need a review after I finish with you.”
“You finishing with me?” You smile. “Big words, Barnes, but no action.”
He knows you challenge him, and you don’t try to hide it. Do you have to beg for his cock for him to finally fuck you? He is edging you on purpose at this point.
You let out a whimper in anticipation when he moves behind you.
“Are you sure you’re fine with no condom?”
“Ihm, I’m not ovulating anyway,” you whisper, trying not to sound too eager. But you are. You want to get dicked down, indeed. And you wanted it for months.
His silence makes you a bit nervous, but the sounds of him dropping to his knees behind you, followed by his hand grabbing his cock and positioning it at your entrance while squeezing your hip with the metal arm.
You love the sensation of the coldness, but you love even more when he leans in to kiss your back before he pushes inside you.
It takes two tries, though, for him to be able to push halfway inside you because you kept pushing his dick out of you instantly. You managed to take him only when he brought his fingers to your clit and rubbed a bit.
You still laughed though because the sounds were too funny and his little frustrated whimpers were hilarious. The amusement turns quickly into more horniness when you feel him stretching you without even being fully inside you. You dreamed and daydreamed about it… fantasized about it, but it still wasn’t even close to how it actually feels. How full it feels. It’s like you cannot even think, your body is weak.
“Fuck,” your voice is cracking. “Deeper.”
“You’re so fucking tight,” he whispers.
“So?” You bring your hand to his ass, trying to show him you really need it deeper. “Why do you make it sound like a bad thing? Or are you trying not to come, Mr. Super Soldier?”
“You have quite a mouth on you, I think you need it-”
“You talk way too much. Are you nervous or-” It’s his turn to interrupt you with a thrust. Such a deep thrust your head is spinning. He’s not fully inside you, you realize, but he doesn’t try to, instead, he starts to fuck you, taking your breath away. His fingers leave your clit, grabbing your hips with both hands.
There is no question anymore, just fucking as you wanted.
And it feels like heaven. You try to keep your eyes open just so you look at him over your shoulder, but it’s impossible.
“Cat got your tongue?”
You groan. “No, you did, n-now fuck me harder.”
“Well, well,” he slows down and you almost wanna die. “This is not how you talk to your Sergeant, is it?”
He can’t do this!
“Fuck you!”
“What does my baby want?” His thrusts are too slow and teasing, just like his voice. “Use your words, beg for it.”
You’re not turned off, surprisingly. Not at all, on the contrary, the firm tone he uses, the words… you’re getting hornier, if that is even possible.
“I love your cock, Sergeant, so please give it to me. Fuck me harder and faster. Need you to pull my hair, and choke me, and… be rough.” You would be embarrassed if you weren’t so desperate. You know he wouldn’t make fun of you for this, so you trust him.
“Only mine.” You take a deep breath relieved when you feel his right hand wrap around your hair. “Do you hear me? Answer me.”
You nod, unable to say anything because he starts to thrust hard and fast, just like he did before he stopped. Your tits are jumping at the impact, and you have to dig your toes into the floor.
“Use your words. If you want my,” he moans. “If you want my cock and my hand wrapped around your neck, you have to use your big girl words. Tell me you’re only mine.”
You can’t hold back your tears this time. You love it so much, you can’t believe you waited so long to have him.
“Only yours.”
“No Steve.”
He lets go of your hair, wrapping his hand around your neck. No pressure, not moving it, he’s just holding it there.
“There’s n-no Steve, Sergeant. Only you. My pussy belongs to you. I o-only want to get filled by you.”
You know he’s smiling without needing to look at him.
“You love your Sergeant’s cock, don’t you?” You have no idea how he’s able to speak while thrusting so hard. He’s a fucking robot, indeed. “No one else could give you this, no matter how much they tried.”
You feel the building in your core. You’re so, so close already, so you try to place your weight on only one hand and bring the other to cover his, and before he can say something, you encourage him to choke you by pressing his fingers on the sides of your neck.
You moan so loudly you surprise even yourself. You sound like a cat.
“Please, sergeant, please, choke me.” You repeat your move and you close your eyes. “Please, daddy, I’m so c-close.”
He pauses for a second, and you don’t know why.
Before you can ask what’s wrong, he doesn’t just start to thrust inside you again, he dicks you down just the way you wanted. It’s as if he fucks the air out of your lungs every time you exhale. You’re crying and screaming at this point, so loud the whole floor must hear you. But you’re not ashamed. You feel so close you can almost taste it.
You barely hear his whimpers, but they’re there and they’re so beautiful.
You get no warning when he decides to squeeze the sides of your neck: gently at first, but then? Perfect. So perfect you come without warning, not being able to even say his name. You just scream some nonsense, your hand dropping from his to the floor so you can ground yourself properly. Your whole body is burning, and burning, and burning, coming alive for what feels like an eternity.
He doesn’t wait even for a second after you come down from your orgasm. Instead, he gets his dick out of you, grabbing you by your ass and raising you in his arms. Still weak, you barely have the strength to wrap your legs around his waist and your hands around his neck. He’s sweaty but not that hot. His metal arm is making you cool down.
“Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.” His lips find your forehead and you fight the urge to kiss his neck. You feel so small in his arms… and as if no one can hurt you.
You’re smiling like a fool when your back hits his bed, and so is he. Such a beautiful, blinding smile.
You let him spread your legs before you drag his face down so you can kiss him. You bite his lip hard until he opens his mouth, moaning when you feel him entering you again. This time, you’re relaxed so he thrusts inside you so much easier.
“Gonna make you come again around your daddy’s cock..”
His hands wrap your legs around his ass when he starts to thrust again.
“You’re quite… into it, Sergeant Barnes. So dirty!”
He gently grabs your jaw. “Tongue out.”
You do it, opening your mouth and waiting, and waiting until you finally understand what he’s about to do.
Instead of being grossed out, as you expected, you eagerly swallow the saliva that he lets drip from his mouth, which lands on your tongue.
You bat your eyes as you start to move your hips to meet his thrusts halfway, and that sends him into a frenzy.
“Fucking hell, you don’t want to sleep tonight, do you?” He asks sarcastically, but you don’t have enough air to tease him with a stamina comment. “You want me to make you scream and swallow my spit and come till we have to go to that fucking mission. Till your beloved Steve needs to come to us himself and hear us covered in come but still fucking.” You moan at the idea of your teammates finding out about this. You get awful comments anyway; at least you can get him for real and rub it in their faces. “You would like that, wouldn’t ya? Having all my undivided attention on you, not caring that my best friend is mad…” The thrusts are so deep that your head falls on the pillow instantly. You cannot keep your eyes open for even a second and you’re crying again. “Not caring my pal wanted you so badly he even tried to take you out tonight.”
“Sergeant-”
Thrust after thrust. You grab his forearm as tightly as you can so you can have something to hold onto.
“He thought he could have you, that you’d choose him. Come on, love. Come on, scream my name, let them hear. Let them all hear whose cock you cry for. Who is the one you belong to.” His balls slap against your skin so hard they tickle you. But not even that can distract you from almost reaching your orgasm. His words, his cock, his possessiveness…
“Sergeant, please. No one but you, can I… c-can I touch my clit? I’m so, so close.”
You don’t have to, though, because he is quick enough to bring his flesh hand between your bodies and rub your clit just the way you need it.
“F-fuck, coming,” you manage to warn him before the pleasure hits you. It’s so overwhelming you see white, digging your nails into his forearm.
You don’t know what you call him… daddy, Bucky or sergeant, but it doesn’t matter. You hear his praise, how you’re his good girl, and his words encouraging you to come for him.
When you can focus again, you kiss him with everything you have.
“Need you to come for me, Sergeant Barnes,” you whisper between kisses. “Need you to come inside me, need you to fill me up with your come, sir.”
He hisses loudly, his eyes being more grey than blue.
“Don’t tease me.”
“I mean it,” you make eye contact, wrapping your legs tighter around him. “Not the heat of the moment. I need your come, daddy. I’m on birth-”
He kisses you so hard your teeth end up hitting, but you don’t care. This is everything.
“Gonna come, gonna give you what you want. Gonna make you my come s-slut. Is that what you needed?”
“Yes, yes.” You’re so excited to watch him finish you don’t even realize how much you like being called his come slut until he says it again. “Come on, Sergeant, come for me.”
After you say that, it only takes him two more thrusts to finish, moaning your name.
His eyes close, and you notice how pretty his eyelashes are. And the little moles on his face… his mouth semi-open and his hair in all directions.
You want to witness this every day.
Before you can stop yourself, you lean in to kiss his nose and cheeks, letting your hips move at the same time.
“C-can’t… doesn’t stop,” he manages to groan, and you bring your hand to his nape, caressing his hair as he rides out his orgasm.
When he finally finishes, though, his head falls on top of your breasts, his mouth finding your nipple and playing with it before sucking it fully into his mouth.
“Easy, Bucky,” you moan, but he keeps going, though.
You have to pull his hair, to make him stop.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love it, but I need to uh… I’m tired.”
You’re back to your shy self. But his smile still makes you feel so relaxed.
“Got you tired, huh?” He winks, giving your breasts a kiss before pressing his lips against yours. “Fuck, I’ve never been so aroused in my entire life. Won’t even mention how happy I am.”
“Me neither,” you whisper.
“Well, we need to get used to it.”
You laugh so happily that you think your chest will explode. It’s surreal.
“You owe me that dinner after all.”
“A million dinners.”
You roll your eyes playfully. “Trying to charm me?”
He pecks you one more time before getting out of you with a whimper.
“I’ve already done it.”
It’s weird to be empty like this again, but seeing your come and wetness on his pubic hair or dripping out of your pussy just to soak the sheets beneath you distracts you. You made a mess.
“We need to clean this.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says distractedly as he uses his index finger to push some come back inside you. Jesus! “This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
You smile. “You’re a whore.”
“Your whore.” He slowly gets out of bed, grabbing his shorts from the floor.
“Want me to go?” You ask all of a sudden, gaining a confused look from him.
“Why would I want that? Unless you do, of course…” He runs a hand through his hair, trying to fix it a little. “But I want you to stay.”
“Saw you dressing.” You bring your knees up just to put your chin on top of them. You feel extra shy.
He smiles. “Just gonna get you some water. I don’t want you dehydrated.”
*
Bucky knew Steve was in the kitchen as soon as he went down the stairs. He smiles casually, not giving him a second look as he goes straight to the fridge. It’s not like he hasn’t seen him in shorts or shirtless before, and Bucky knows he knew exactly what happened upstairs.
“Can’t sleep?” Steve’s tone is so obvious Bucky almost laughs.
“Not sleepy yet. What about you? You’re alright, punk?”
“Yeah,” he says, taking a sip from his own glass of water; his hands tightly wrapped around the glass.
“Still mad about earlier? You know I’m right.”
Steve shakes his head. “No, it’s all good.”
Bucky sighs dramatically. He loves Steve, he is his brother, but sometimes he is so annoying.
“Well, try to get some sleep. I suggest you wear some earplugs or something, though,” Bucky suggests casually, taking a whole bottle of water. “We wouldn’t want you too sleepy tomorrow. And the night is young.” He even winks at Steve, making him clear his throat.
“Buck…”
“Not a super soldier perk, I know, but you understand, right?” The smirk he suddenly gives Steve is almost sinister. “She chose me after all, and I gotta let her test-drive me. Have a good night!”
Even though he turns around, Bucky doesn’t miss the way Steve’s hold gets so tight that his glass almost breaks.
Bucky doesn’t regret it. He had it coming when he thought you’d choose him.
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amongemeraldclouds · 3 months
Text
Firewhiskey Confessions
After drinking to cope with your heartbreak, you find a reliable confidante to spill your guts to. Except, he is not who he seems.
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Soft!Mattheo Riddle x Reader
Warning: alcohol, fluff, no use of y/n
Author’s note: Just a silly idea, this is unserious. Official entry for @thatdammchickennugget's Hogmarch challenge, prompt 2.
✿ Masterlist | 810 words
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I never drank. Obviously, anyone can do what they want with their kidneys. I just didn’t like the idea of slurring my words or tilting gravity for fun, and I preferred to keep my mind sharp.
And yet, my world had tilted anyway without alcohol to blame.
As for my sharp mind? Well, here at Mattheo’s birthday party, all that precious sharp mind has done is hack away at my heart. So screw it. I need a drink.
I grab a shot of firewhiskey as a tray passes by and down it in one gulp, wincing. Well, no one drinks alcohol for its taste. I shake it off and move to the nearest tray for another shot. 
Five shots in, I feel flushed and ready for gravity to tilt, a familiar occurrence at this point. I sneak off to another room when I see Mattheo greeting his guests, laughter pealing and glasses clinking. Everyone is having a great time. Yay! 
In the quiet of the receiving area, I wrap my arm across a coated gentleman for support. “Avoiding the party too, huh?”
When he doesn’t reply, I continue. “Well, don’t worry. I’m not judging you. You see I,” I say, pointing at myself for emphasis, “am avoiding Mattheo. Why did I come to his party only to avoid him, you ask? Well one might say, I don’t make very smart decisions.”
I blink, trying to catch my train of thought.
“You seem to be a very good listener,” I ponder, bringing my face closer to his shoulder since he’s too tall for me to reach his ear. “Can I tell you a secret? But ssshhhh you can’t tell anyone. It’s a secret.”
“I’m in love with Mattheo Riddle and I screwed it all up. Last week, he kissed me during a game of spin the bottle and I just knew there was nothing friendly about the kiss. So what did I do? Confess my long harbored feelings for my best friend like an emotionally intelligent woman?”
“Pssh, nah,” I wave it off.
“Remember, I don’t make smart decisions. What I did was ignore him for a week and then act like nothing happened. By the time I stopped ignoring him, he already had a girlfriend so I’m avoiding him again. I’ll spare you the details, but she’s wonderful. Can’t even hate her if I tried. They’re going to make gorgeous pureblood babies and live happily ever after. I’m so happy for them, but why couldn’t it have been me?” I hiccup.
“Answer me,” I poke at his side.
Instead, I hear an amused voice behind me. “Why are you talking to a coat?”
“I’m not talking to a coat, you’re talking to a coat,” I turn and point at…oh, Mattheo.
“Darling, why are you drinking?” He says, moving towards me.
I blink. “Why do you think I’m talking to a coat?”
“Because you are,” he deadpans. 
Oh. I step back and take a good look at my companion. I sway and Mattheo catches me. “Why do you hang your coats on mannequins instead of racks like everyone else?”
“In case you didn’t notice, I live in a mansion. Not like everyone else either,” he explains patiently like he’s talking to a child.
“Come on, you’re drunk. Let’s take you to my room to rest,” he says guiding me.
I focus my attention on staying upright. When we reach his room, he helps me lay down his bed and hands me a glass of water to help me sober up.
“How much of that did you hear?” I ask when my mind clears up a little.
“Do you want the truth or do you want to save yourself from embarrassment?” He asks.
I groan and bury my head in my hands.
He places a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Well if you must know, I don’t have very friendly feelings towards you either, it’s more than that. But when you started ignoring me, I thought you didn’t like me.”
I look at him then and tilt my head, confused.
“Darling, if you stopped avoiding me, I would have very easily told you that I’m only fake dating to help save a friend from a toxic ex-boyfriend,” he explains.
“Wait,” I feel the gears in my head spinning. It’s rusty, but we’re getting there. “So you don’t have a girlfriend and you’re in love with me too?”
“In short, yes,” he says gently.
“Huh,” I grin. “That worked out well, I should drink more.”
“Absolutely not,” Mattheo protests. And then, “really? That’s your takeaway?” He shakes his head, covering me with the blanket. 
I close my eyes with a satisfied smile and sink into the soft, cozy sheets. As I drift off to sleep, I distantly hear Mattheo say, “get rest, we’ll talk more tomorrow,” and faintly feel him kiss my forehead.
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anjellaufeyson · 3 months
Text
I could treat you better - Bellamy Blake
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Time stamp: 1:38
My boyfriend was lovely–his friend wasn’t. Bellamy Blake was the rudest man I’ve ever come across; I only tolerated him for my boyfriend. 
Murphy kissed me before he got pulled away for work, he was doing guard watch. I sighed, why couldn’t Bellamy do this? He always had Murphy doing everything for him, and I’m sick of it. Whenever Muphy comes back to our tent he’s exhausted or too tired to even spend time with me. I left my tent and walked inside Bellamy’s, he was shirtless and a girl was lying on his bed. I immediately left with a disgusted look on my face. 
Soon he came out searching for me, “What do you want, princess?” 
I palmed my face while we strolled together through Arkadia, “I’d prefer if you wouldn’t call me that, Blake. Especially since some people say that when they’re together.” 
He tilted his head, his eyes gazing into mine, he glanced down with a bit of a smile, “Right, whatever you say, princess.” 
The need to correct and argue with him was there but I ignored it for the sake of Murphy. “okay–can you please stop keeping my boyfriend working late? I’m aware of how things are, like it or not I’m one of the smart ones and I think he’s being overworked and–”
Bellamy’s face showed confusion in itself, “Murphy gets off at the same time as everyone else. I work the late nights, I’m who stays up all night, every night.” 
I stopped moving, trying to process my indecision and incoming sense of betrayal. “Wait, you haven’t been keeping Murphy late or hanging out with him late?” 
He shook his head and crossed his arms, his muscles clenching to his tight shirt. His veins popping out. My eyes tore away, my emotions were my only focus. “No, I don’t think anyone has. We’ve been on a lockdown since Clarke went missing.” 
My brain racked everything Murphy’s ever told me since he began ‘working’ late. I thought of the girl I assumed he had a relationship with but when I questioned him, he brushed me off. Out of anger, I took off leaving Bellamy, who ended up following behind me calling for my name. I moved the tent side and immediately saw Murphy and the girl kissing. They stopped once they noticed me and how distraught I looked. 
I backed up and accidentally bumped into Bellamy’s chest, I didn’t cry. I felt like I should cry, my body begged to cry, but when you did here–it made you seem weak. And I’d never want Murphy to see me cry even though my heart did in return. I turned and tried to shield myself with Bellamy’s chest, but hesitantly he put his arms around me. Trying to comfort me but I knew we both detested each other. He never liked me with Murphy for a reason I am unaware of, and I just never liked him. He brushed his hand up and down my back, almost in circular motions. 
Murphy’s voice appeared from behind me but I didn’t dare to look back because I felt so vulnerable, I knew I would cry. “I need to talk with her, I can explain!”
Bellamy stepped in, holding me closer. His voice was demanding, his tone was deep, “Murphy, you should go. Now. If she wants to talk to you, she’ll do it later.” 
I could hear Murphy protesting before easily giving up, he didn’t care to try. I pushed away from Bellamy who almost looked shocked at how quickly I switched up. 
We had to go on a mission, and I found myself in a difficult position. A hand covered my mouth and once I realized I didn’t know the person whose hand it was I began to get a bit scared. I tried to fight them off but couldn’t–it had to be a grounder. 
The grounder pulled a sword on me and dug into my back, but not enough to hurt me but it pierced the skin. He pushed me onto my knees where my friends were–including Bellamy. The whole hunting group was in. Murphy seemed nervous. I guess I should be too, especially since it’s my life on the line. 
“Who’s valuable to her?”
What an odd fucking question–is this supposed to be leverage? Might as well let me die. 
Bellamy not even a second later stepped forward, “She’s with me, that’s my girlfriend.” He spoke so truthfully that even everyone we knew was aware he was lying through his teeth. 
“What are you willing to give me in turn for her life?” 
His eyes almost turned vulnerable, his words coming off as pathetic as his tone came off as pleads. “What do you want?” 
The grounder moved the sword which caused me to wince, “I want Wanheda.” Everyone shared a confused glance, who is that? “Give her to me and I won’t kill her.” 
“Take me instead, she has a better chance of getting through to Wanheda than me.” What is he doing? He’s going to get himself killed–I’m aware he can handle himself but this is almost suicidal. The grounder pushed me into Bellamy’s arms. He squeezed my hand for the quickest second and moved to the grounder who hit him immediately. 
I wanted to help him but I didn’t know how to, Bellamy could’ve attacked but stayed down, taking another punch with ease. I stepped forward but he put his hand up, “Don’t,” he demanded while blood ran down his cheek. 
Why was he willing to do this for me? We’ll never find her, I mouthed. He did a tiny nod. They need you, I mouthed once more. He got kicked in his ribs and I knew I lost his attention but while the grounder was distracted I quickly stole Murphy’s gun and shot the grounder. My aim was good, but I hated shooting, killing wasn’t something I wanted to do. But I had to–for him. 
Without processing what I did I went to Bellamy’s side. I hated his stupidity and I hated how he saved my life. “I hate you,” I said as I helped him up. He spit out blood, “I know,” he said while wincing from getting up too quickly. 
While Bellamy was getting medical from Abby, I was talking with Octavia and Jasper. Murphy approached grabbing my arm, “Were you and Bellamy seeing each other behind my back?”
His breath reeks of Monty’s moonshine, “Are you serious? You’ve been cheating on me, Murphy?”
“Were you yes or no?” 
Before I could say anything Bellamy put his arm around my waist. His hands slipped around my stomach. Holding me tight but just to keep himself steady from behind. “Yes,” he said in a raspy voice, still clearly in pain. I couldn’t turn my head, I’d be too close to his face. He groaned a bit in pain but still managed to keep his posture strong and himself looking composed. Bellamy pulled me in closer to him and that got a bit of a reaction from Murphy. 
“Fuck you both,” he said as he stormed off. Everyone else decided to leave us alone, I was going to Bellamy back to medic. There was a zero percent chance he was let out yet. 
He stopped me from walking, his tight and bloody shirt doing him every bit of justice. His hands took control so easily, “Why’d you do it,” I asked. 
His fingers traced along my neck, “Save you? Or help you?”
“Both,” I spoke breathlessly. His eyes were fixated on my lips and I wondered if Abby gave him painkillers or something for this type of behavior. 
Bellamy stared down at me, tension felt like it was rising, and the heat was radiating off our bodies. He kept one hand on my waist, holding me. His right hand pulled my hair to the side he leaned in, “because we both know I could treat you better,” he whispered into my ear.
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eternalfics · 5 months
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Hello! I hope you're doing well! I have a request if you don't mind. So basically, It's a Saiki x Psychic Reader where Saiki is stressed out and needs something to make him feel better so the Reader decided to massage his back. Since Saiki never really had anyone with the same strength as him, no one could really massage him. It's like that one episode in season one or two. Anyways, it's okay if you don't want to do this for any type of reason. Be safe, thank you!
saiki getting a massage from psychic!reader
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a/n: I was wondering where did my request go like? ANYWAY TYSM FOR REQUESTING! please start requesting more pookie wookie 🤭 anyway you remember how I reposted that I’d do that little teasing photo (picturing saiki and reader) I’m gonna do like a little enemies to lovers kind of thing you get me? anyway I typed too much so let’s getting bloody started 😖
warnings: sneaky comments from me, toritsuka 😨
summary: saiki gets an amazing, beautiful, sensational, eye rolling massage 🥳
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“no means no, y/n,” saiki said in your mind for the umpteenth time, trying to focus on what the teacher was saying even though he didn’t need too. he smart af
“oh come on! we both know you need it, especially after you used boulders to massage your shoulders.” you tried to reason with him only to be met with silence. You turn to Saiki with a confused look only to see him with a slightly flustered face.
“you just had to use clairvoyance, didn’t you?” “I always have to check up on my favourite psychic, don’t I?” you said teasingly.
more underneath:
so! 😀
saiki’s not too sure about this
i mean sure, your a psychic but you could be stupid like toritsuka and can’t control your strength like him.
saiki lays on his stomach on his bed, (you guys are at his house) slightly regretting saying yes to another psychic that he just met a few months ago.
you come in the room with a massaging oil, feeling proud that you finally got the psychic to give in to your request more like command
saiki doesn’t speak (hes secretly wondering why did he agree to this 😭). it’s not until you rub the oil between your hands, and then you start to massage him is when he lets out a soft groan.
you pause. you start to overthink, did you hurt him? does he like it? it’s only when saiki starts calling out your name that you zone in.
“why’d you stop?” saiki asked impatiently, clearly wanting you to continue. you opened your mouth to tease him but he shushed you quickly knowing that you would.
saiki’s surprised that he knows you this well even though he met you a while ago. well, he’s more of an observant person so that explains that. he wonders if you know him well too. (I know you well my pookie wookie boo 🥺)
“your lower back too?” you asked him, really just wanting to make him feel relaxed.. and safe.. and- focus y/n! “sure.”
you continued to massage saiki for a couple of minutes, thinking about if he would let other people do this to him aswell.
saiki was quiet, and you didn’t hear any thoughts so you leaned over to look at him. you were met with an adorable sight! saiki sleeping 😍. his light snores and breathing filled your ears.
unfortunately, people can’t live the easy way saiki. SMACK! you smack saiki awake and your met with an extremely pissed looking psychic.
“whats wrong with you? 😡”
“did you enjoy your massage? 😇”
“ugh..”
saiki groans but quickly gets over it because he realises has to pay you back somehow? mmm maybe a cafe coupon? a dat- nononono..
“what do you want in return?” saiki asked, his voice still a bit groggy since he just woke up. “oh nothing, you can pay me back later.” you replied calmly, happy you could be of service. these days your parents are on more business trips so your glad your not lonely 😋.
saiki gets up and immediately he feels the relief from on his back. just as he’s about to reach for the door handle,
“my turn!” 🥰
“you just said I could pay you back late-“
IM SO SOREY THIS TOOK SO LONG
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monzabee · 1 year
Text
this is a relationship, that i don’t think anyone saw coming  – cl16
masterlist
Summary: The one where you and Charles think you are successfully fooling everyone on the grid, when in reality you are the ones being fooled.
Pairing: charles leclerc x merc!driver!reader
Word Count: 5.2k
Warnings: cursing, kissing, hiding a relationship (and doing it very badly), smut elements! (in one of the scenes, nothing penetrative), idiots to lovers, sexism and racism in motorsports, pop culture references (bad and many of them).
Request: “Hello! Can I request a charles leclerc imagine where the reader is a f1 driver and they try to hide their relationship from the paddock, but everyone knows and in the end they just reveal it. Thanks xx” + “this is not a request, but, can you use a dialogue from one of your favourite tv shows/series?”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! the title comes from an episode of the kardashians, but it was very popular on tiktok for a while so here you go! the request for this one was so good, and i had so much fun writing this, so i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i do. the dialogue i used for the second request/promt is from season 1 episode 9 of suits, which is one of my absolute favourite tv series of all time (even though it has too many legal inaccuracies), and you can watch the scene from here. ALSO, because i can never choose one, i decided to use another dialogue from season 1 episode 18 of gilmore girls, and i think it is the best piece of television ever written, and you can watch it from here. there are a bunch of pop culture references in there, so if you can spot them, you are a star! thank you anons for your requests, and i hope you guys enjoy this one! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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Charles is not stupid, in fact, he prides himself in being smart. However, as one of his best friends are looking at him with an unamused glare, he suddenly fears that he might have been stupid when he was getting ready before arriving at the venue for the party tonight.
“You are not dressed,” Pierre drawls, “What are you wearing?”
“A suit?” Charles asks, confused as he looks at his friend’s attire. “What are you wearing?” 
Pierre points to the outfit he’s wearing, which consists of brown pants with a linen shirt and a brown vest thrown over it, an annoyed look washes over his face as he explains, “I’m Indiana Jones, this is a costume party, Charles.” 
“Why would you have a costume party when you’re turning 27?” Charles’ face scrunches up in even more confusion. 
“Because it’s fun, and it’s my birthday.” Pierre rolls his eyes, “We have to do something about it; Kika, I need help!” He calls out to her girlfriend, who rushes into the room in a white dress and a very voluminous blonde wig. 
“What’s wrong?” Kika asks, her eyes falling on Charles’ outfits as she groans disappointedly, “Who are you supposed to be?” 
“I didn’t know!” Charles argues. 
“Mate,” Pierre objects, “it was on the invitation; ‘Hollywood Icons’?” 
“We can fix this,” Kika tries to offer Charles a supportive smile. “You could be… Patrick Bateman?” 
Charles’ eyes widen with shock, “From ‘American Psycho’?”
“Morbid, Kiks,” Pierre shakes his head. 
Kika shrugs, “He’s hot. What about Brad Pitt in ‘Mr. and Mrs. Smith’?”
“Does he even wear a suit in that one?” Pierre asks, still shaking his head in thought. 
Kika lets out a loud groan, “James Bond!”
“That could work–” Charles start saying at the same time Pierre objects, “The suit is not sharp enough.” 
“Then give him a tie, Pierre.” Kika frowns. “God, the two of you are like children, not even the girls had this much trouble, and the two of us almost matched.” 
You’re shivering when you finally arrive at the venue thanks to the thin trench coat thrown over your costume. You link your arm with Lily, who is holding Alex’s hand and the two of them are dressed up as Jack and Rose. “Why are we doing this, again?”
“Because we like Pierre, he is nice.” Lily turns to Alex to let him fix her ginger wig for her as she replies to you.
“I don’t know, I think I want to go back to the hotel.” You mumble, your hands nervously playing with the belt of your coat. 
“Just give it a try, Y/N,” Alex smiles at you. “We’ll take you back if you’re still feeling nervous.” 
You nod your head with a sigh as you let Lily pull you in towards the entrance of the apartment building. You’re too busy admiring the Italian architecture when you hear a squeal. “You guys made it!” Alex excuses himself to go greet some of the other drivers and you smile at Kika as she pulls you and Lily in for a hug at the same time as she chants, “I’m dying to see your guys’ costumes, show me, show me!”
You laugh softly as you take of your coat, pulling gasps from both of the girls looking over your outfit. “You both knew what my costume was going to be!” You whine, holding your coat close to your body. 
“I didn’t know it was going to be –” Lily starts, looking at Kika for help. 
“Tight,” Kika clears her throat, “it’s very tight, and your body looks amazing!” 
“You’re literally a model, Kiks,” you mumble, “can we please focus on Lily and how historically accurate her costume is? Not to mention yours, I mean, Marilyn?”
“You look amazing, Lily.” Kika agrees, giving her a warm smile. “And thank you, Y/N.”
“Thank you, Kika,” she turns to you, “thank you, Y/N. I’m going to find Alex, meet you at the bar?” 
“Sure, see you.” You tell her, smiling as she starts to walk towards the crowd. 
“Let me take your coat,” Kika leans over you. “You should grab a drink before more people arrive, Pierre made sure to invite half of the city, it seems like.” 
You thank her before she leaves to hang your coat, taking a deep breath as you start moving between dancing people, some of whom greet you as you make your way towards the bar. You give the bar tender a tight smile as you order yourself a gin and tonic, strawberry, of course. The first thing Charles notices about you is your hair, having memorised all the different tones mixed between your locks. His eyes travels down your body, his eyes linger particularly on your dress; the white bodice is connected to the tie dye skirt by a metal circle, and it is oh so tight, accentuating all your curves in the best way possible. His legs start to move towards you in their own volition when his eyes reach the leather thigh-high boots, his voice is thick as he approach you from your right. “Y/N.” 
You look at him with your lips parted in shock, your voice coming out in a low breath. “Charles, you’re here.” You let him take one of your hands into his as you lock eyes with him. “I thought you were going to be in Monaco.” 
“I was already in Italy for the car testing.” He explains, his fingers gently caress your inner wrist. “I’ve missed you. Were you back at home?” 
“I’ve missed you too,” a smile takes over your face, “yes, I’m trying to get used to changing cities.” 
“I’ll give you a private tour when we go back.” He offers, eliciting a giggle from you as you reach for your drink and take a sip from the straw. His breath hitches for a moment when he focuses too much on the way your red-painted lips close around the plastic, but he’s quick to shake it off. “Did you see the pictures on Twitter?”
“The ones with Frédéric?” You ask him and he nods in return. The pictures he is referring to being his new team principle giving your four-year-old niece some daisies. There is a teasing smile on your lips as you say, “Don’t worry, Charles, I’m not coming for a Ferrari seat. He was just giving Cecily some flowers when we were passing by.” 
“I wish you would’ve brought her into the garage, I’ve missed her.” The pout he’s sporting lets you know that he is being genuine and not putting on a show for your attention. 
“You know I couldn’t, I had to get back to my own garage before the race.” The emphasis you use makes him roll his eyes as his fingers occupy themselves with the stacked bracelets on your wrist. “Who are you supposed to be, anyway?”
“James Bond.” He replies in an unattached voice, exhaling a deep breath. “I didn’t realise it was a costume party.”
“Charles,” you laugh, head tilted to the side as you keep holding his gaze, “it was on the invitation, darling.” 
He groans, “I know that, now. Pierre was not impressed when I first showed up.”
“I can imagine.” You agree in a sympathetic voice. “Maybe we should’ve thought of something before you left last week.”
“Oh, yeah, like what? Vivian?” He smirks, his eyes going over your body once more, but without any shame this time. “Do you have any idea how great you look?”
“It was the last movie we watched.” You shrug, a coy smile on your lips. “Maybe you could’ve been a ballerina, like Natalie Portman, in ‘Black Swan’.” 
He lets out a hearty laugh. “Oh please, you know how good my legs would look in tights compared to yours.” 
“Oh, chéri,” You tut, stepping closer to him as you rake your fingers down on his tie. “You couldn’t if you tried.”
“I would crush you.” He challenges as he lifts an eyebrow.
You shake your head. “You wouldn’t touch me.” 
“Why not?” He asks, amused. 
You shrug in a nonchalant manner. “Because you'd be too busy staring at me in tights.” 
“No I wouldn’t,” Charles argues, shaking his head slightly. 
“You’re doing it right now.” You sing in a light voice. 
“You’re not wearing any.” He points out, his hands moving to rest on the bare skin of your waist, curtesy of the cut-outs your dress provides. 
You tug on his tie to draw him closer to you, his lips lingering near his ear as you whisper, “I’m not wearing any underwear.”
He is left speechless when you let him go, grab your drink and start walking towards your teammate, making sure to add an extra sway to your hips because you know Charles is watching you to confirm what you’ve just told him. 
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You have a secret, and it’s big – big, huge. And it has something to do with the Monegasque laying beneath you. Charles talks about the last few days he spent at the Ferrari factory as you listen to him, your eyes focused on the way his face moves through various expressions when he talks about the car. Your chin is placed on your hands which are placed together on his chest, giving you the perfect view of his face. His fingers are moving on the bare skin on your back, the white bed sheet pulled up only enough to cover the globe of your ass. Although you try your best to keep up with his stream of consciousness, humming where accurate and asking him questions here and there, but Charles can see the sleepy look in your eyes through your hooded eyes. 
“Are you okay, mon soleil?” He asks, his chest rumbling with his voice underneath your hands. 
“Sleepy,” you mumble, leaning up against him to bury your face against the side of his neck, “you’re warm, though.” 
He pulls the sheet up your body; interpreting the way you shiver as you being cold, when the actual reason is the pleasure the skin to skin contact brings. “You can go back to sleep; we still have some time.” The incoherent mumbles leaving your lips makes him chuckle, which in return makes you smile against him. Your fingers trace over the edge of his five o’clock shadow, and you suddenly find yourself thanking whatever deity is up there that he forgot to shave because of all the commotion of travelling over the past few days. “What did you just say?”
“It’s just funny that you tell me I should sleep after you’ve kept me up the entire night, darling.” Your breathy chuckle hits the side of his neck as he lets out a chuckle of his own. 
“I didn’t hear you complaining at any point,” he raises one of  his brows, earning him a pat against his chest and you making yourself rise enough to glare at him. 
You try your best to frown at him, locking your gaze with his, as you can feel the heat starting to rise up to your face at the mention of your not so innocent activities of last night. “You’re incorrigible, Charles.” 
“Oh, chérie,” he coos, brushing the pad of his thumb over the swell of your cupids-bow. You’re about to give in and give him a kiss when he rises up, himself, with a frown and you in his arms. 
“What’s wrong?” You ask in a worried voice, following his line of vision to your closed bedroom door. 
“Does anyone else have your keys?” Charles asks, “I heard the front door open–”
Your eyes widen as you scramble to get off him, pulling the sheet up to cover your nakedness. “Charles, hide!” You hiss, while trying to force him to move. 
“Y/N?” You hear your assistant, Margo, yell through the house. “I got those thermal things you wanted!” 
“One second, please!” You call back to her, looking at Charles with pleading eyes. Thankfully, he manages to hide underneath the sheets just before Margo barges into the room. Even more luckily, the duvet over the sheets ends up hiding his body seamlessly. “Hi, Margo.” You give her the best smile you can muster up under the situation, your hand still clutching the bedsheet on your chest with enough force to make your hand hurt. 
“Oh my god, are you naked under there?” Margo babbles, a light blush covering her cheeks. “Since when do you sleep naked?”
“Um… I heard it’s good for your circulation?” You answer her in an unsure voice, causing Charles to tighten his hands on your thighs in warning, you have no idea how he managed to squeeze between them in the first place. “Thank you for the thermals, you’re an angel.”
“N-no problem.” She smiles at you nervously, obviously stressed because of the lack of clothes on your body for the sake of professionalism. “Toto wanted me to tell you that he is meeting up with Lewis for lunch later and asked me to ask you to join them if you were free.” 
“Sure, do you know wh-when?” You stutter during the last word, feeling Charles’ fingers and breath coming closer to your center. 
Margo checks her watch, then looks back up at you. “Around three, at that Italian place the team went out for dinner the last time.” 
You nod in acknowledgement as you try the remember the exact location of the restaurant she mentioned, gasping because Charles decides to give your clit a little lick before taking it between his lips to gently suck on it. “I’ll be there!” You rush out, hands gripping the white sheet even tighter. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Margo asks while eyeing you up with worry, “Should I take you to a doctor, or something?” 
“Oh no, I’m fine, honey.” You wave her off with a nervous chuckle. “I think it’s all in your – head!”
“Um.. okay. I’ll see you later, then.” Margo mumbles as she leaves your room with red cheeks. 
You throw your head back in a groan over the awkward encounter, waiting until hearing the front door open and close before pulling the sheets back and glaring at the man between your thighs, who still has his mouth on you, by the way. “You are evil, Charles, pure evil! What were you thinking?” 
He draws back slightly to raise a questioning brow. “Do you want me to stop?” However, he resumes his torture when you don’t answer him, looking up at you while grinning like the devil himself as he murmurs into your skin, “That’s what I thought.”
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It’s hard, being a woman in the motorsport world, and especially in F1. While some may say it’s unprecedented, and you’d agree, you also think there’s going to be misogynistic pigs in any sector you might end up working in, so why not have some fun? The article comes out the day before the race, right before the qualifying session. You’re not the one to check your phone before going on track, but an urge to do so pokes at you when you realise people are giving you worried looks in the Mercedes garage. Your jaw tightens as you read through the article, fingers tightening around your phone as you read every single sexist comment being made about the way you dress, talk, and your entire F1 career and accomplishments being discredited just because of your gender. You’re absolutely fuming as you throw your phone onto the couch in your driver’s room and grab your helmet and balaclava as you walk briskly towards the garage. 
Both Toto and Lewis look at you with surprised, but worried, looks as you announce, “Make me go out first.”
“Are you sure, Y/N?” Toto asks, sharing a worried glance with Lewis. “You usually wait for a while for other people to–.” 
“No, I’m sure.” You tug on your balaclava as you add, “Make sure I’m on softs, please.” 
The two men watch you walk off towards your car, Lewis mumbling, “Hell hath no fury like the woman scorned.” The Austrian turns to him, eyebrows raised, which causes him to roll his eyes. “Yes, Toto, I read.”
You’re a force to be reckoned with on track during qualifying. Although having not the best start to the season, you push your Mercedes to its absolute limits, managing to outpace even the Red Bulls, and constantly asking your engineer for another lap until Toto has to ask you to retire for the day – in long story short, you are the pole sitter for the Sunday’s race. There are four people waiting for you when you get out of your car, those four people being: Toto, Susie, Lewis and Mick – though you’re pretty sure the latter was dragged into this intervention because you’re usually unable to get angry next to the reserve driver. 
“You were reckless out there, Y/N.” Toto frowns, crossing his arms over his chest (Mick copies his actions, nodding, as he does his best to give you a stern look). 
“I drove the best I have in over a year,” you argue, “we are starting on P1 tomorrow because of my driving today.” 
“I don’t care if we start P20, you know you shouldn’t have gone out there that angry!” Susie places a pacifying hand on your team principle’s arm when his voice gets higher. 
“We know you were angry about the article,” Lewis starts, but you cut him off as you grumble,
“A very astute conversation, Lewis.” You snap, not allowing him to continue as you begin ranting, “He called me a ‘Malibu Barbie’, and suggested that I should find another career, do you know how disheartening that is?”
“They called me Ken once,” Mick mumbles with a small pout on his lips, quickly mumbling “sorry,” when you give him a scathing look. 
“There will always be journalists who are against you and me,” Lewis goes on to remind you, “I told that before you signed, and before your first race.” 
“I know, but–” You stop to swallow down a sob, tilting your head back to delay the tears which are threatening to come out. “They implied that I’ve slept my way up to where I am today,” you inhale a deep breath as your voice wavers, “I’m so tired of my accomplishments being reduced to this.” 
“Men will always be afraid of women who have the ability to be better at their jobs than they are,” Susie smiles softly at you – soft, but not pitiful, you realise. “It doesn’t mean that we should give up, it means that we do our best to make sure they are proved wrong.” 
“You could’ve hurt yourself and others today,” Toto shakes his head, “you almost collided with both of the Ferraris.” 
Your entire break pauses at the mention of the red cars, mind quickly drifting to the owner of the eyes you love looking into, but you’re quick to snap yourself out, “Are they okay?”
“Both Carlos and Charles are fine,” Susie assures you.
“No more reckless driving,” Toto points a finger at you and then to Lewis, who raises his arms in surrender. “I mean it.” He pats you on the back before leaving, whispering a quick, “Good job today, kiddo.” 
“Why do I get in trouble because of you?” Lewis wonders aloud, his hands on his hips. 
“We haven’t been teammates for that long, Lewis.” You squint your eyes. 
“Are you okay, Y/N?” Mick asks with a concerned look on his face. 
You nod in thought, pointed to both of them. “I will be, but I need both of your help.” 
Mick gulps, voice tentative as he asks, “We’re not doing anything illegal, are we?”
After you’re done explaining your plan to your teammates, you say goodbye to both of them and make your way towards your driver’s room. Charles gets up, quickly, from the couch as you enter, shocked expressions on both of your faces. “H-how did you get in here?”
“I had to sneak in through the back,” he explains as he gets closer to you, hands quickly cup your cheek for his thumbs to swipe under your eyes. “Chérie, did you cry?”
“I- no!” You shake your head as you try to get him off. “I’m just- ugh, I’m just so angry!”
He lets you rant in his arms, eventually giving in and shedding a few tears of frustration, but he doesn’t comment until you’re done with your thoughts, and when he does comment, it is not to undermine your feelings. He takes you back to the hotel, and before the two of you leave your garage, he sneaks a soft kiss on your lips which has you melting in his arms. Unbeknown to you, Susie, Toto and Lewis watch the interaction from the other end of the corridor, with the latter murmuring, “Love is just a word until someone comes along and gives it meaning.” Lewis gives Toto a side-eye as the team principle looks at him with the same surprised look from before, “For the last time, man, I read!”
All the eyes in the car are on you, the next morning when you, Mick and Lewis arrive to the track in the same car. “You ready to leave?” Lewis asks you, looking at you from the rear-view mirror from the passenger seat; Mick drove to the track instead of you because you told them both there was no way you were driving with the heels you wore today. 
“It’s now or never,” you mutter, subconsciously fixing your hair.
“Give them hell.” Mick turns back to smile at you, and you give him a nervous smile as you exit the car. 
A few people around the entrance turn to give you funny looks, you reply to some of them by offering a thin-lipped smile. The real show starts when you finally enter the racing grounds, photographers turning to snap a picture of you when they realise it’s actually you. You plaster on a plastic smile, waving at them as you do your absolute best to walk in the 6-inch heels which were definitely not the brightest idea you’ve ever had.
“Hi, Barbie!” A similar voice calls out to you, and you smile genuinely for the first time as you call back. ,
“Hi, Ken!” You turn towards Pierre, pushing your sunglasses up towards your hair as you watch the Frenchman walk towards you with Carlos and Charles behind him. 
“Please tell me it’s a wig,” Carlos frowns, his eyes lingering on your suddenly platinum hair. 
“I’m having fun as a blonde, Carlos.” You shrug innocently, your arms crossing over your chest, and the pink dress you’ve decided to wear for the occasion. 
Pierre nods in support, “Blondes do have more fun, Carlos.” 
“I- Why?” Carlos asks, not getting the joke shared between you and Pierre. “I don’t understand.” 
“Fine, no soup for you, then.” You mumble rolling your eyes. However, your eyes widen when you realise he genuinely doesn’t get the reference. “Seriously- Carlos, it’s from Seinfeld.” 
“I’ve never watched it.” He admits, his frown still prominent on his face. 
“It’s okay, mate,” Pierre assures him taking him away to explain the joke to him, which leaves you and Charles alone. 
You turn to Charles with a coy smile on your face. “You like the new look?”
“I- but, when?” He asks you, more confused then ever. “You were not blonde when I left last night.”
“Mick bought the dye for me.” You explain, trying to supress a grin. “We stayed up all night trying to bleach my hair.” 
“You stayed up all night?” Charles asks, more concerned now that he learns that you didn’t have a good night’s sleep. “That’s so wrong, mon soleil, why did you do it? Is it about the article? Of course, it is.” 
“Charles, calm down, darling.” You place a hand on his chest, even though you’re hyperaware of the fact that both of you are out in the open. “I’m just going to prove something, alright? I feel fine.” 
“You should’ve slept.” Charles frowns, taking a deep breath. “Are you sure you feel good enough to be in a car?”
You nod excitedly. “Positive, I have a race to win. And wait until you see what Lewis and I are going to wear.” 
“I can’t wait, chérie.” 
Just as you promised Charles, you win the race. Your pace is even better than the previous day, but instead of being fuelled by anger, you are fuelled by determination to win. Your engineers play Aqua’s Barbie Girl as a surprise, and to make things even better, Lewis and you stand on the podium in a Mercedes 1-2 in your matching pink helmets and shoes – even Toto donned pink glasses for the occasion. Charles lets out a hearty laugh alongside you on the podium when he sees your outfits. Yeah, you decide in that moment, this one is for the girls.
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You and Charles’ relationship happened so unexpectedly, but that doesn’t mean that you regret a secret moment of it. It all started when you were moving to Monte Carlo at the end of last year’s season, and Charles was the only one available to help you in the process – not that you asked him of course, he offered you to help because he is a gentleman like that. It didn’t take the both of you long enough to go on dates as you spent more and more time together, and it was a natural transition to both of you dating each other exclusively. Despite what you expected, the first time Charles actually kissed you was on a cliff overlooking the entirety of Monte Carlo, the view was beautiful, but you were still apprehensive because of your location on the cliff. So, being the gentleman he is, Charles offered to hold you, and that’s when he decided to kiss you. 
Lewis comes back to the table after taking a phone call as he apologises, “Sorry, I was on the phone; long distance.”
“God?” You ask him, mockingly nodding, which makes George and Carmen laugh.
“London,” Lewis clarifies as he gives you a questioning look. 
You gasp as you ask. “God lives in London?” 
“No, my mother in lives in London.” Lewis replies in the calmest voice he can muster. 
“You mother is God?” You ask right back, without the appearance of joking. Your small discussion grabs the attention of other drivers and couples as the two of you continue bickering. 
“Y/N,” Lewis tries to warn you, but you continue on with your rant. 
Leaning towards Charles, Alex and Lily who are seated close together, you announce, “So, God is a woman.” 
“Y/N!” Lewis groans this time. 
“And my teammates mother, it’s so cool! I’m definitely going to ask for strategy points for the next season.” 
The table shares a laugh as you and Lewis continue bickering back and forth, eliciting laughs from people who watch you with amusement. Eventually, Pierre clears his throat. “Okay, what is everyone’s plans for the break?” he asks, trying to look over the long table. 
“Isa and I are off to Mallorca,” Carlos announces as she presses a sweet kiss to his cheek. 
“I’m going back home,” Yuki shrugs. 
“I’m going to see Chloe and Scotty,” Lance mumbles, “and probably Daniel, too.” 
Everyone goes around to announce their plans for the break, but when it comes to you and Charles, you are nervous as you announce, “I’m just going to stay home, get to know the city, you know?”
“Yeah, same.” Charles nods, thinking he got away with his evasive answer. 
“You’re going to get to know the city you were born and raised in?” Fernando asks with a knowing smirk. 
“You can always find new things if you know where to look,” Charles replies in a serious tone, trying to appear stern as he nods to strengthen his point. You’re busy squeezing his hand under the table to death. 
“Yeah, like what?” Max asks, which earns him a slap on the arm from Kelly. “What? I’m curious.” 
“Like, umm, like-like cafés, and bookshops, and you know those little stores which sell souvenirs but not the generic kind?” He rambles, trying to think of more examples. 
“Okay that’s enough,” Lewis cuts him off, shaking his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “We all know the two of you are dating. The entire grid, and engineers, and probably most of the team principles.” 
“What?” You laugh nervously, trying to shrug him off. “Don’t be stupid.” 
“Yeah, we are not dating.” Charles shakes his head, his octave going up as he receives looks from people around the table. “We are not!”
“Drop the act, it’s disgusting the way you two look at each other.” Checo complains from the other side of the table. 
“Yeah, and I can see him doing stuff to your hand under the table.” Lance winces. 
“He is not doing stuff to my hand under the table!” You squeal, but Charles is too busy trying to contain his laughter next to you. “Is this funny to you, Charles?” 
“I mean, a little bit,” Charles confirms, finally succumbing to his laugher, “we have nothing to hide now, chérie.”
“I knew it!” Pierre exclaims, “I told you I saw them together at my birthday!” He tells his girlfriend. 
“Toto and I saw them kissing after quali,” Lewis shrugs. 
You gasp as you turn towards him. “You did not!”
“Yes we did,” Lewis argues, “even Susie saw.” 
Charles pulls you towards himself, still laughing over people arguing whether they saw you together over the past year or not, as he wraps your arms around your shoulder, you murmur to him, “I am so crashing next to him next year, Daniel style.” You take a pause to think, “No, Mazepin style.”
“Maybe not crash into your teammate for the sake of poor Toto, mon soleil.” 
You let out an unsatisfied grumble as you hear Alex complain to Lily, “Why didn’t she tell me? I thought we were best friends!” You groan and look around the table at all the people around you, who are all surprisingly supportive of your relationship, you smile as you press a soft kiss to Charles’ lips. 
He grins as he asks, “What was that for?”
“Nothing,” you shrug, “I just think you’re pretty cool.” 
“I think you’re pretty cool, too, my love.” He mumbles and gives you another kiss despite few groans coming from around the table. 
2K notes · View notes
doromoni · 26 days
Text
Clash of Champions | LH44 , MV1
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Act 2 . Part 4 : A Driver’s Stratagem
Ships : Lewis Hamilton x Engineer! Reader , Max Verstappen x Engineer! Reader
Genre : Drama , Angst , Romance
Warning : Morally Grey Characters , Dark Characters, Forced Drug Use , Swearing
A/N : This one took so much revisions , I swear, I put more effort and dedication into this than my Uni papers.
Summary : The rivalry between the titans of Formula 1 goes off track and only one will reign victorious
< Previous
Act 2. ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The air hummed with adrenaline and the roaring sounds of engines filled the entire circuit— as the smell of synthetic oil wafted each corner of the grid.
It was finally Sunday — it was race day. It was the day to see how truly monstrous your dynamic with the Dutch Red Bull Driver was. It was the day to make Mercedes rue the days they’d taken you for granted.
It was time to make sure that Max Verstappen would become a World Champion.
Red Bull’s garage buzzed with the sound of drills and chatters of mechanics as they set up spare parts for the cars. Everything was like clockwork, every action smooth and practiced.
It was an hour till the cars were brought out to the grid, with Max’s car placed in first— right on pole. You couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of Toto’s face, red from anger. You could still hear his deranged shouts and banging on unsuspecting headsets on tables.
With final checks on the pit wall; ensuring that whatever happens you’ll never be cut from Max’s radio. The memory of Mercedes‘ betrayal had made you paranoid, even when no one from RB had shown shown anything sketchy.
Nevertheless, it was still your first race with Max, anything and anyone can change anytime. You wouldn’t make the same mistake of trusting anyone that easily.
So engrossed with your thoughts and triple checking on the data on your station, that you didn’t realize Max’s presence behind you
“Well hello there pretty engineer “ And suddenly, you were engulfed by strong arms from behind. Max’s lips briefly met your own as you looked over your shoulder and up at the racer.
You both knew that you were supposed to be keeping things lowkey, however Max couldn’t care less when there were no cameras around — He didn’t care if cameras were present or not but out of respect for you, he kept the PDA to a minimum. You were his girlfriend and he needs everyone to know and back off, whenever he can.
“Hi, babe! I was just about to go see you. I just need to finish checking your stats” you explained to your boyfriend as you proceeded to point out something on your screen. You found the extra hundredths of the second in the track and began to fully explain every detail to the Dutch driver.
“I love it when you get all nerdy with me, Schat. “ Max suddenly interjected, a fond smile on his face as he gazed down at you.
Your cheeks grew redder by the second. A shy smile on your lips as your eyes avoided Max's eyes. You were used to people rolling their eyes at your intellect at Mercedes. Now with Max openly admiring you… you didn’t know how to respond.
“ Are you getting shy with me, Schat? How adorable can you be” Max laughed as he let go of your waist from behind, then held your cheeks together and looked directly at your steadily growing red face.
“Shut up! Don’t make me throw your race, Max Verstappen” You bluffed with the Red Bull driver a loving smile on your face, smacking your hand to his arms.
“Whatever happened to keep work and our personal lives separate? Huh, Schat?” You rolled your eyes to your cheeky boyfriend’s sass.
Oh boy, how you were starting to fall deeper for the Dutch Driver.
“Well I’m not the one who can’t keep my hands to myself in the office , now am I?” You sassed back.
“Well my girlfriend is hot and smart, how could I resist?” You couldn’t help but laugh at your boyfriend’s audacity.
“ you’re unbelievable! Aren’t you supposed to be resting and getting inside your driver's room? “ You asked as you spun your chair fully towards Max, him now in between your legs.
“I know, but I wanted to see you first. How are you feeling, Y/N? You ready for the race?” Your heart melted as Max took your hand in his and squeezed it for comfort.
“ I should be the one asking you that, Max.” You cooed at him as tears glazed your eyes. He was the one fighting for the championship and risking his life on track — yet he was concerned over you.
“ I’m ready. Thank you for trusting me as your engineer. Let’s give them hell” You grinned towards the Champion contender of Red Bull.
Max couldn’t help but capture your lips in his at the sight of you. He only dreamed of you looking at him like this. The look you once gave to Lewis Hamilton. The look of love and devotion. Now it was aimed at him.
However, unknown to the both of you a person clad in a black team uniform had been recording the entire encounter.
***
The hour flew by fast, and it was now time to race in the pinnacle of motorsport.
Max was strapped down in his car, helmet on and visor down — your voice in his ear ready to command. Max had zeroed in, all attention was ahead of him and nothing else.
While you were in your element, the Red Bull headset firmed on your head. As your co-engineers continue to exchange data amongst the team.
“ 1 minute to start Max” you echoed the time on your screen.
“Copy, Y/N. Let’s give them hell” Max’s voice held assurance. He was not just saying it. He was promising it.
“30 seconds, Max. Keep safe out there yeah? 10 seconds”
“5 seconds”
As the lights go out, Crofty delivers his famous lines. The race had begun and in the blink of an eye — 20 race cars had flown past the pit walls that held all race engineers and team principals.
As the green flag was waved the 1st lap of the 56-lap race began.
Max and Lewis showed no mercy to each other, already butting heads from the very start. Max was shoved out of the track by Hamilton. Lewis held the lead with Max not far in his tail.
“Max, keep it steady. We are going for strat 2” you calmly echoed towards the driver. You knew Max was pissed, but you had a plan for this.
“Copy, Y/N. Strat 2 is good” Max had replied.
The race had gone on with Lewis still in the lead. You knew that your old team was cherishing every second of it.
Yet you had everything pat down and you just needed to trust the data and Max’s ability to deliver. And that trust had solidified at lap 26, Max had been once again in the lead with fresher tires.
The race was starting to finish, it was the 2nd to the last lap. Hamilton was just 1.94 seconds behind Verstappen.
Your eyes darted towards the drivers on the grid, Max was fast approaching Mick’s lapped Haas. The Haas car looked like it was not going to move anytime soon.
And you were right as Max had complained on the radio.
“Michael should move out of the way.” At Max’s input — you’ve already sent the memo to Haas.
As Mick’s car gave way, Max zoomed past with Lewis right behind the Red Bull car— hopefully trying to gain p1.
Yet as the chequered flag had approached, Max had kept everything calm and cool — and in the blink of an eye, Max had crossed the finish line.
Cheers erupted from all corners of Red Bull. A huge grin on your face as Christian Horner shook your shoulder from the side.
Max had won! You were successful in leading him to victory. The relief washed over you like water on a blistering hot day. The motor world had seen you succeed outside of Mercedes — your talent didn’t just rely on Lewis.
Y/N L/N had led another driver towards victory. And you had proved that this was not a fluke or by chance.
Not when, Max had won the next race in Mexico. This time Max had won from 3rd place in the grid. And with 15 seconds to spare from Lewis.
“Max Verstappen! You’ve won Mexico! My goodness, and with a 15-second lead. You’re incredible! “ You praised your boyfriend openly astonished at his raw talent.
“Simply Lovely, Y//N! Wow! Your strategy was flawless, Thank you for that! From p3 to p1! Thank you everyone” Max’s voice echoed out of your earphones.
As you celebrated Max’s win on the podium —You were then informed that you were to be interviewed by Sky Sports right after. You had asked who was hosting. And the name of your ex-driver was said. Nico Rosberg.
You never thought of the possibility of talking to Nico again. Not after everything in Mercedes, not when your once close relationship with the German driver had been torn to pieces.
You admit that you had made mistakes, huge ones, both of you did. But you cannot deny that you missed him.
You were starting to get nervous and you had started to overthink, but your attention was drawn back towards Max.
He looked majestic up on that podium. It looked almost natural that he was on top.
The Dutch national anthem played, and you found his eyes on you. Your heart had skipped a beat, and you couldn't help but smile. A calming sensation drew over you. Negative thoughts left your mind as Max had overridden each one.
And to the surprise of the world, in front of live television, all cameras panned on him.
His lips echoed the words
“I Love You, Y/N ” his eyes still locked in yours.
Your surprise was an understatement, but your entire being felt like you were floating. You felt so much joy - you felt so much love. You felt seen and cherished
A piece of you had been healed by Max’s actions. Max had just done what Lewis could never do - He had shown the world that you were his and he was yours. Your eyes held tears as the smile on your face grew.
And you echoed back.
“I Love you too. “
As the anthem reached its final note. Champagnes then sprayed all over the podium, and into your section with your team below.
Everyone in Red Bull was enjoying the celebration including you, when you felt a pair of eyes on you. You searched for the person, you looked around and saw nothing.
But then you looked up, your eyes caught Lewis’. You saw pain, confusion and anger. His eyes used to make you back down — but not anymore.
You held his gaze, never looking away. You saw his jaw clench as he was forced to look away. Your eyes sight drew back towards Max, he was already looking at you with a look of question.
It was not one of doubt, but just plain curiosity. You knew that he trusted you. So you once again mouthed words to the Dutch driver.
“I’ll tell you later”
***
Later came quickly, as you and Max had been lounging inside his motorhome. Both are now clean yet exhausted after the shower you both took. Both of you took more than a shower inside that bathroom and you were sure that everyone had heard.
Nevertheless, neither you nor Max cared as adrenaline, emotions, and passion overtook both your senses.
You were now both presentable and dressed in comfier team uniforms. You and Max had occupied the small bed inside his driver's room. Max’s arms draped over your waist and your back gently laid on his chest.
“I’m being interviewed by Nico later” you blurted out.
“Really? Well, are you ok with doing it?” Max had questioned. Max knew everything that had happened inside Mercedes. Every betrayal and every crime that they’ve done to you. And that included your past with both drivers.
“Honestly, I miss him. Max” your voice broke as you said those words aloud. Max was the only person you got to tell about Nico. Everyone in Mercedes had hated him after he’d left and you knew Lewis despised him so you’ve always kept to yourself about how much you’ve missed your big brother figure.
When you started in F1, Nico Rosberg was your first driver and you were a junior engineer in his team. It was the year 2011 and you were just a rookie, everyone had given you no attention and kept pushing you aside, but Nico had seen you and put you under his wing.
The two of you became closer and closer as the year went on. You’ve been to his house, met his girlfriend and family and even celebrated his birthdays.
Then 2012 came, and you had grown and flourished; you had climbed the ladder in such a short amount of time —you were set to become Nico’s lead race engineer for the next year to come. At that point, you had thought that your bond with Nico would be strong forever.
That was until 2013 came. Lewis Hamilton was enlisted to Join Mercedes AMG F1. Nico was delighted to have his childhood friend on the team — much so that he introduced the two of you.
You didn’t like Lewis at first and Nico knew that and he laughed at you; saying that you weren’t going to be having much interaction with Lewis anyway since you were going to be his engineer.
And when you were announced to be Lewis’ lead race engineer — you were dumbfounded. Your eyes looked for Nico’s familiar figure but you didn’t find even his silhouette.
You felt betrayed and angry at Nico. You thought that he was the one who chose to remove you from his team. Your anger and resentment towards your supposed brother had just continued to fester— as he continued to grow distant from you.
And your emotions had drawn you to the arms of Lewis Hamilton. You’ve sought solitude in the embrace of a man in a relationship and Nico had been the only one to see this.
Then he had confronted you and had warned you to stay clear of Lewis. In your anger, so many harsh and cutting words were said — you had targeted all of his insecurities and you instantly felt regret as you let go of the words you didn’t mean.
That encounter had fully severed your relationship with Nico. You tried to apologize, but every time you tried shame filled all your senses and you just turned the other way instead.
2014 came and he got married. You waited for your invitation but it never came — you broke down once again. 2016 had been brutal, as you watched the love of your life and the brother you cherished killing each other on the track.
Nico won that year, you were secretly so happy for him. He did deserve it. Then Nico announced his retirement, and that was when you knew you had missed your chance to mend your broken relationship.
“Go talk to him. If what you told me was true, I’m sure he misses you too. He’s probably waiting for you to make the first move” Max’s words had brought peace within you and you knew what he said was right.
“Well he is a diva, “ you said jokingly. You knew that it should be you to apologize first. And it seemed that you were given the chance to right your wrongs.
“That’s Britney for you” You laughed at Max’s teasing words. Nico hated being called that, but when it came to you — he didn’t mind.
Suddenly you remembered the texts Lewis sent you last race ago. And you decided that Max should probably know it — you didn’t want to keep secrets from him.
“Babe, I need to tell you something about Lewis” You took your phone out and showed the concerning texts Lewis had sent you to the Red Bull driver.
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“Holy Shit” Max’s eyes grew large as he went to read the conversation between you and Lewis
“ Right? This is so concerning. Should I tell Christian about this?” Your fingers fidgeted over your phone, as you surveyed Max’s expression.
Confusion, Puzzlement and Shock had shown itself in Max’s expression. You were about to question Max if he knew anything about that party with the other drivers when a knock and the voice of an RB personnel stopped you.
“Ms. Y/N? It's time for your interview in the paddock, we need to go now. You’ll go live in 10 minutes”
“I’ll be out now” You quickly stood up from Max’s embrace and checked yourself out in the mirror in Max’s bathroom.
You looked back at your boyfriend who was still on his bed.
“We’re continuing this conversation later, babe” You went near him chastity kissed his lips, and wiped the excess lipstick that transferred to his skin.
“ Sure, Schat. Don’t be scared of Nico alright? “ Max had reminded you, as he tucked a loose hair in your ear. You nodded your head and gave Max one last peck.
As you went out the door. Max’s facade quickly warped into coldness and irritability. Hamilton was getting in the way again.
Max then recalled his conversation with Toto Wolff.
“ This wasn’t in the deal, Wolff! “ Max hollered at the Austrian team principal.
“You wanted them to break up right?! And I don’t want Lewis anywhere near L/N. Lewis isn’t giving up, he wants her back” Toto had stated back to the Red Bull driver. As he nursed scotch in his hand, swirling the drink.
“I know that! I need them apart. But come on?!! You want to roofie your driver? Are you fucking insane?!”
“ OF COURSE I DON'T!! I have no other option! All of Lewis’ attention has been on getting L/N back, he’s fucking slacking. I need Y/N to break Lewis… fully. I need him angry — and what more than her going to the enemy? The girl is already leaving — yet still causing trouble for my fucking team”
“You’re crazy Wolff. Aren’t you worried that she’ll work with me and deny the 8th championship from you?”
“She’s already in your team, the bitch moves fast. And no I'm not worried, a girl like her can’t amount to her success. I’m sure she’ll drag you down”
“Don’t fucking talk about her like that! I swear I’ll break this glass and shove it down your throat, Wolff. We’re not friends, you’re still a piece of shit — fucking remember that.” Max suddenly threw the whiskey glass just behind Toto’s head. No ounce of fear nor regret in the Dutch driver.
“Well? What do you say Verstappen? I’ll have my people slip Lewis a pill then you’ll swoop right in and get your chance with the girl” Toto cleared his throat, taken aback by Max’s sudden show of aggression
“Do it. Drug Hamilton, I’ll do the rest. Y/N won't be Lewis’ problem. Nothing should come out of this room, you hear me, Wolff?” Max gritted out.
“ It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Max Verstappen. “
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alwritey-aphrodite · 6 months
Note
hey hey hey!! im definitely back in my hunger games era too— sejanus is literally the love of my life😻 I was wondering if you could write something about snow having to basically force sejanus into asking out reader (shy pookie🥹) and it’s just fluff
if not that’s perfectly fine!! thank you so so much <33
There’s no actual asking out in this one, but I’ll happily write a part two!!
Sejanus Plinth was the closest thing Coriolanus had to a best friend, despite the fact that he’d never admit that to anyone. The boy was kind, thoughtful, smart, a whole laundry list of good qualities that seemed slightly buried under the fact that he was an upstart. Maybe all those good qualities are cultivated in the districts, because Coryo couldn’t think of many other students at the academy who shared Sejanus’s attributes.
Except for you, of course, with your sweet smiles and kind words and exceptional brain, but your cunning and determination to come out on top was all capital. Sejanus was head over heels for you, anyone could see, and everyone did see, if the snickers from Arachne and Festus were to be trusted. Sejanus would never say anything, though, would never make a move, because it seems like his entire brain shuts down whenever you’re near, reducing him to a stuttering, blushing mess.
Coryo had tried his best to let his friend handle it on his own, but there are only so many times he can watch Sejanus’s failed attempts at small talk with you before he considers never coming back to school, if only so he won’t need to pat Sejanus on the back and tell him he did great. After months and months of standing on the sidelines and whispering encouragement, he was taking matters into his own hands.
Walking out of the academy building side by side with Sejanus, Coryo was unsurprised to hear the crunch of footsteps running up behind them, trying to catch up.
“Sejanus!” You called out once you were close enough not to shout for all of the capital to hear, rushing the rest of the way when the boys stop and turn. You're out of breath but grinning, in the middle of shrugging your bag off of your shoulder.
“I found that book you wanted, but I definitely wasn’t supposed to take it out of the library so please be super careful,” you tell Sejanus with a smile, arm outstretched with the aforementioned book in your hand. Your smile falls though as the boy's face clouds with confusion, brows drawing down and a slight pout forming on his lips.
“I didn’t ask for a book,” Sejanus says, too deep into his confusion to be nervous to speak to you and too desperate to remedy the crestfallen expression on your face to realize Coryo was slowly inching away.
“Coryo said you needed it, asked if I could bring it to you,” you explain, the book falling limp in your hand. The two of you turn your attention to the blond boy, who’s only made it a few steps away from you. He shrugs, the picture of innocence and nonchalance, before turning and heading on his way, not even giving you or Sejanus the opportunity to say anything more, let alone goodbye.
“I can take it, though, so you don’t get in trouble,” Sejanus offers after a few seconds of silence, cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink from more than just the chill in the air.
“That’s alright, I’ll just bring it back tomorrow,” you stuff the book into your bag before slinging it back onto your shoulders and smiling at Sejanus, grin growing wider when he smiles back.
“Let me walk you home? It gets dark so quickly now and I don’t want you to have any trouble, with the stolen book and all,” he rambles, trying and failing to be casual, but he’s earnest and funny without even trying and really, you’d do anything to spend just a few more minutes with him.
The two of you walk home, hands swinging and dangerously close to touching, and the more you talk, the more Sejanus’s nerves seem to melt away. Sure, he’s still a little nervous and finds you delightfully intimidating, but he’s able to make his way through conversations and he even makes you laugh a few times, a sound he wants to bottle up and listen to for the rest of his life.
Once you reach your door, though, and you press a kiss to his cheek to thank him for taking you home, he’s right back at square one, a blushing mess that takes a minute to process what had happened on your doorstep before he’s able to move again, and all he’s able to think about for the rest of the night is you and what he needs to do for you to kiss him again.
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look-at-the-soul · 2 months
Text
Every little thing you do- Part 4
Series master list
Tommy Shelby x reader
Better late than never! I hope you like this! The drama continues for a while, no warning is needed just Lizzie being a (b)witch.
Word count: 2,923
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Lizzie rolled her eyes subtly as Y/N walked past her with a blinder following her steps with a box full of papers. Surprisingly Tommy hired his best friend as his assistant and now everywhere Lizzie looked, she found Y/N.
“Thank you James!” She heard Y/N.
“Any time, just let me know if you need anything.” The blinder tipped his peaky cap towards her and walked away.
Lizzie found Y/N the most irritating person, always smiling, always charming everyone, always so fucking close to Tommy. And now she had to work at the company too?!
“Now that Scott is missing, are you going to start flirting with James too?” Lizzie asked with sarcasm.
Nobody knew where Scott was, he simply faded away one day and Y/N didn’t seem to care.
Y/N wasn’t in the mood to deal with Lizzie’s bullshit that day, she had been giving herself away to work, eager to payoff Tommy’s kindness. But no matter what, Lizzie had been showing a bitchy attitude towards her without a valid reason since the beginning.
“Why? Are you jealous?” Y/N retorted immediately and pretended to focus on the folders with the licenses information, she needed to organize those.
“You think you’re so smart and with that innocent look you can blind men.”
“That’s what you think hmm? Well, even if that was the case… it’s none of your business.”
“And whose next? Tommy?” Lizzie placed her hand on her hip, twisting her lower lip down.
Y/N felt like actually having a little fun. Polly told her Tommy had sex with Lizzie occasionally, not like an official thing, but apparently Lizzie’s feelings got in the way at some point.
“Oh… wait you don’t know the latest gossip darling?” Y/N fixed her eyes on Lizzie’s paled expression. “I’m living in his house… Arrow House, it’s a fucking palace if you ask me.”
Y/N’s statement was a direct punch into Lizzie’s gut, anger and discomfort was so evident in her expression.
“Are you Tommy’s new whore?” Lizzie asked loudly not realizing that Tommy was behind her.
“Elizabeth Stark!” His voice resonated around, making Lizzie jump.
His jaw clenched and he threw his secretary a death stare that could turn her into stone. Y/N knew of his bad temper and his violent reactions -never towards her of course-, but deep down she felt bad for Lizzie.
Pacing between them, Tommy took a few more steps until he stood next to Y/N.
“I want everyone around.” He rubbed the cigarette over his lips, but refrained from lightning it because he remembered it made Y/N sick. “RIGHT NOW!”
As he saw other secretaries and blinders gathered around, as well as his family, he took a deep breath.
“I haven’t got the chance to properly introduce Y/N… she’s my assistant now.” He explained with a serious tone. “But if anyone…” Tommy then fixed his eyes on Lizzie, “dares to say anything bad to her, point a fucking finger, question her integrity or whatever the fuck you do. In that very moment, you’re fired. And I’m no joking.”
The people gave him a few nods and nervous stares.
“Are we clear?” He shouted then, to make his point valid.
A chorus of yes was heard around as people started to move.
“This is a warning.” He explained to Lizzie directly. “Next time you cross the line, and you’re out.”
Lizzie stood there petrified, not knowing what to say or do.
Then, when he turned around to face Y/N, his expression went completely soft again. The difference was evident.
“Y/N your grandma is waiting in my car, I’m taking you two somewhere.” He explained holding out her coat.
“Oh!” She rushed excited, leaving Lizzie fuming.
“Jealousy will take you nowhere.” Polly pointed at Lizzie, lighting a cigarette.
“I’m just so done with her, I can’t stand her!” She exploded clenching her jaw.
Polly studied her, then leaning against the desk, she finally asked; “what’s your problem? Y/N hasn’t done anything to you.”
Lizzie rolled her eyes and scoffed in discomfort. Y/N was always in the middle, always got Tommy’s attention, she made him smile, he looked after her all the fucking time!
Shaking the ash from her cigarette, Lizzie picked some folders from her desk.
“I don’t like her, alright?”
“You’re jealous.” It wasn’t a question.
Lizzie took a few seconds to answer the Shelby matriarch.
“I keep him satisfied… isn’t that enough?”
For an instant, Polly felt pity for Lizzie. “Believe it or not… that’s not all that Thomas is looking for.”
The green-eyed woman stared at her confused. So Polly continued.
“He had always dreamed big, he always wanted what he didn’t have growing up… he wants his own family, wants to make things right.” She explained.
“So there’s something going on between them?” Lizzie asked, the air escaping her body.
Polly stopped walking and slowly turned around to look at the secretary. “What? Of course not, they’re like brother and sister.”
Lizzie blinked a few times, confused. “I don’t understand.”
With a sigh, Polly told her it wasn’t her place to say anything and left. Y/N would decide if she wanted to share the news of her pregnancy and with whom she chose to do it.
“What did you tell Mum?” Y/N asked in the vehicle after greeting her grandmother with a tight and comforting hug.
She winked at her granddaughter from the front seat. “That I was going to the market.”
Tommy grinned listening to their talk, a moment later they arrived to the Garrison and he guided them to the private booth, so they would be able to talk freely.
“Harry would you prepare the kettle? Y/N and her grandma will need some tea.”
“Right away Mr. Shelby.”
Y/N’s grandma looked around, she had never been in a place like this, where men went to have a drink.
“You look pale my darling,” she stated giving her granddaughter’s hand a squeeze. “Is she eating well Mr. Shelby?”
“Oh, yes… you know, she’s a bit stubborn at times.” He chuckled. “You’re more than welcome in my house you know that, right?”
Y/N’s grandma touched his arm in gratitude. “God will pay you back in blessings.”
“Yes, Tommy won’t let me lift a finger, he got maids, someone that cooks and a driver. Can you believe that grandma?”
Her grandma looked at him in shock. It sounded like Tommy belonged to an upper status now.
“If you want to see Y/N, just ask any of my men to take you.”
Y/N looked at him with her eyes full of gratitude.
“Grandma…” Y/N stared at the cup of tea Harry brought, then she gave Tommy a quick glance.
“I’ll be checking the numbers of the pub. Alright?” Tommy offered to give them space.
“Thank you.” She saw him disappear, the noise from the pub filled momentarily the room.
“How are you feeling my dear?” Y/N’s grandma asked, worry installed in her eyes.
“As good as I can be,” she looked down, “the Shelby family had been looking after me and the doctor says everything is fine with the baby.”
“Oh that’s wonderful news.” The elderly woman celebrated. “But the sadness is still there, in your eyes.”
“I’m trying to be strong, but I can’t help but think I shouldn’t have been so naive, I thought Scott loved me.”
“I’m not going to lie to you dear, I always thought you’d end up falling in love with someone else.” The hint of a smile decorated her lips.
Y/N frowned.
“What do you mean?”
Her grandma shuddered. “Someone better, with a bright future.” She explained but kept the rest of her thoughts to herself. When she turned around, Y/N saw Tommy pouring some beer through the small window.
“But now it’s too late to think of that, I’ve to focus on this baby first.” Y/N murmured absently.
Y/N could feel the weight of the world on her shoulders. Part of her wanted to be optimistic and the other part needed to be realistic. Things would be different now.
“Can you ask Tommy if he knows a good lawyer?” Her grandma’s words caught her attention, but before she could ask if everything was alright, she spoke again. “I’m going to change my house under your name, but I don’t want anyone to learn this.”
The gesture touched every fiber of Y/N’s body and her eyes watered immediately.
“Oh grandma…”
“No, don’t thank me.” She warned. “When the time is right, you’ll need something to be yours.”
Dabbing the corner of her eyes with a napkin, Y/N stood up to give her grandmother a hug. “I don’t want you to worry anymore.” She added.
Y/N allowed her grandma to comfort her, feeling her heart full at the moment. And then she started sharing how good she felt now working at the Shelby business. Before they realized, time had passed and they thought it’d be better to take her grandma back home before it got dark.
“I’ll get Tommy.” Y/N informed standing up.
“Wait… I got something else for you.” Y/N’s grandma stated solemnly, producing a cloth from her handbag.
When Y/N opened it, she shook her head. “I can’t take it, it’s your money.”
“My darling… you will need it for the baby.”
“Don’t worry about it, thankfully I’ve the salary the Shelby family is paying me.”
Her grandmother shook her head profusely. “Either way, keep it in case you need it.”
“Thank you gran… it means the world to me.” Y/N stood to round the table and give her grandmother a tight hug. “You’re not mad?”
The elderly woman frowned and asked what she meant.
“Well you know… that I didn’t save myself until marriage?” She asked ashamed of her actions.
“Sweetheart, I’ve seen worse. It’s not my place to judge you.” Her grandmother caressed the side of her face. “What is it darling?” Worry was evident in her gaze.
Y/N was t able to hold it together any longer, tears started rolling down her cheeks.
“I feel like I failed my parents, you… I-I’m sorry.”
Y/N’s grandma wiped the tears away.
“Stop thinking that. A baby is always a blessing.”
“But grandma what will I do?”
“Whatever you need to do for this baby, it’s something you’ll only discover once the baby is born, a strength unknown will keep you above the water.” She stated wisely.
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A few days later a sudden sound startled Y/N. When she looked up, she found Polly staring down at her.
“What are you bloody doing down there?”
“I’m organizing the races licenses.” She replied from the floor, papers scattered all around her.
“And the desk isn’t big enough?” Polly arched her eyebrows. “Don’t answer that.” She added after taking a look at the folders.
Lizzie took a turn but stopped abruptly when she found Polly talking with Y/N.
“Uhmm Tommy left these papers, said it was important for you to sign them.”
“Oh I forgot!” While she was signing the papers, she had some news to share. “Make sure to finish this, because you and I are going shopping this afternoon.”
“Polly you know I can’t, I’m trying to save money.” Y/N blushed in embarrassment.
“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not saying you’ll be spending money.” When she saw the face Y/N made, she interrupted her raising a hand. “I don’t wanna hear it.”
And with that, she clicked her heels to go into her office in the opposite hall.
Y/N stared at her, Polly was glamorous, she oozed personality and had a charming character. A light blood as Esme called her.
Lizzie looked at Y/N up and down, there was no way she could afford the clothes she was wearing. Taking a sip of her tea, she thought of what to say. She needed to be careful because Tommy had already give her a warning, but she couldn’t miss an opportunity to annoy her, poor little helpless Y/N… but Lizzie also knew she wasn’t going to run to him and tell him every time they talked.
“So you’re living with Tommy huh? That’s new… do the maids have to call you Mrs. Shelby?” Dabbing the lipstick she just applied, she gave her another look. “He can be generous when he wants, but seriously I don’t understand what kind of relationship you have if you’re living together but you aren’t a couple?” She spat bitterly.
“No offense Lizzie, but honestly? You’re the last woman I’d go after for an advice.” Y/N felt a bit tired, some nights it was impossible to sleep, worry and uncertainty was keeping her up.
“Well, you’re missing out then… because between us? You’ll never guess who’s taking me for a date.”
Y/N wanted to laugh at her words. A man dating Lizzie Stark. But a voice deep inside her made her shut up, because well… she was pregnant without being married. So she decided to play her game.
“Really? Enlighten me.”
Lizzie raised an eyebrow and gave Y/N a wicked smile.
“You know what? I don’t want you to ruin this for me.” She shook her head.
Y/N frowned, why would she ruin her date? She didn’t even care. Lizzie playing the mysterious woman was the most boring thing in the world and if she thought that would make her ask anything else or beg her to say her new lover’s name, Lizzie didn’t knew her at all. Y/N had enough at the moment to stick her nose in someone else’s business.
Lizzie rolled her eyes when Y/N didn’t commented anything further and walked with the folders to the safe.
She wanted to rub in her face that she was dating Angel Changretta. Whatever dating means, they were having wild sex, and Angel had said a few times that he didn’t care about her past. He took her out in his car and drove her back home, not like Tommy he only took her against the desk and didn’t even dare to take her clothes off, he just used her and lately he didn’t even looked at her.
Angel was her ticket to a better life.
Y/N locked the safe and returning to her desk, she found Tommy leaning against the window.
“What are you doing here?”
Y/N gave him a confused look. “I work here?”
That earned a laugh from Tommy. “Thought you we’re heading out, shopping.”
“Yes but later, once I finish my shift.”
Pointing at the hall, he let her walk first. “I need to ask you for a favor.”
That caught her attention and she looked at him intensely. “Anything.”
“Do you remember all those times we talked back then about how we dreamed of doing something together to turn everything around?”
Y/N nodded. “Because life was never fair.”
“How we were always missing opportunities because everything was so damn hard?” Tommy continued, his mind going back in time to a day when they didn’t allowed them in school because his old uniform had a hole in one of the knees and Y/N’s mother couldn’t afford the new books, so they skipped classes and went to the river to swim.
“You always said if it was up to you, you’d do everything completely different.” Y/N remembered all too well.
“I’m planning to open an institution for the kids in need.”
Her eyes sparkled with admiration. Tommy’s generosity didn’t know limits and it spoke volumes about the real man he was.
“How can I help?” She jumped in right away.
“That attitude will make you conquer anything.” Tommy pointed at his friend with a smile. “Whenever it’s possible I need you to lead this project. It’s ambitious but I’ll give you all the people you will need to materialize it.”
“Yes! Of course!” She oozed the excitement. “Education it’s the key for a better future.”
Tommy pouted, letting her words sink in. “You’ll need to make that the slogan.” He chuckled.
“I can scout the children who lost their fathers by the war, they probably were forced to drop school to start working.”
Tommy relaxed his shoulders, pleased with the way Y/N understood what he wanted.
She then continued, now pacing around.
“And the boys and girls whose fathers work at the factories, long hours they’re probably left at home by themselves… what about a program after school? We could offer them tutoring or different courses like knitting for girls and carpentry for the boys.
“Free tuition and uniforms.” Tommy added.
“We could add a jar by the bets table so people can donate here too.”
“Lizzie had some properties already, I’ll tell her to give you everything, check them out and tell me which one you think would work better.”
“Tommy this will make a huge difference, you can’t even imagine the impact.”
“Excellent, now… leave that.” Tommy tipped his head towards the papers. “Find Polly and go already,” he instructed and then produced something from his pocket.
“Tommy I can’t accept this.” She was shocked by the amount of money he was handling her.
“You can, and you will because it’s a gift for the baby. Now go, because I need to smoke.”
One of the secretaries walked past them, it wasn’t her original plan, but she heard their conversation accidentally.
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Part 5
Tag list: list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @lau219 @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @lauren-raines-x @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @red-riding-wood @lovemissyhoneybee @theendlessvoidofdarkest @wannabeperfectionists-blog (can’t tag) @yeppaweshallsee (can’t tag) @skydisneylover (can’t tag) @holacia3 @galactict3a @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @ietss @abaker74 @natalie--rushman @elliaze @justrainandcoffee @teawonderfultea-blog1
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faetreides · 2 months
Note
I have had this thought running around all week. What if reader was sejanus’s girlfriend but Coryo was in love with her, so when he returns to the Capitol after everything in district 12 and the reader is upset that her boyfriend had died and been labelled a rebel, he’s there to comfort her and later married her.
I realised that there’s a few gaps in this but I don’t even care cause I’m so obsessed with the thought! Love you!!💗
I debated on answering this bc this is a fairly common "trope" in the corio x reader space, but I decided to see if I could do something a bit different with it, I hope you like it & I love u too!!
(TYPICAL CORYO WARNINGS Y'ALL)
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In my head, canon era Coryo would be a lot more confused by being able to feel anything romantic for anyone. It's not like you're a childhood friend of his, or a new transfer from a district family that won the gamble and made it big, no. You're just one of the many middle tier capitol families who while never being on the same level as others, they also had less to lose. It would make something in his gut simmer, if your family was any more significant than a fly hovering around a rotting corpse. You are not the asset that Sejanus is.
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But he hates seeing you link arms with Sejanus as you walk out of class together. He loathes the sight of you two splitting a cookie and feeding it too each other like it might as well be your wedding cake. It isn't until Coriolanus "happens" to be wandering through the academy corridors after hours, that his mind catches up with his cock. It's useless to count how many times he's rubbed his cock raw to the memory of your panty covered crotch under your skirt (you don't wear them constantly so you're a bit stupid about remembering to be careful).
Your moans, which he's already heard through the walls of your apartment when he couldn't resist the urge to see you, tip him off. He ducks around a nearby corner and peeks out to see you and Sejanus locking lips. What's worse, is that he can see that your pants are pooled around your ankles, and Sejanus is nearly throwing his back out thrusting his dick in your dripping hole. Huh. Coriolanus would've never pegged you as the sort of person to take risks like that, but you must need the added thrill to be wet enough for your boyfriend.
Coryo knows that there's nothing special about the softer moments you and he share. That the food you sneak him is given because you're a nice person and not because it kills you to see the love of your life starve. You aren't implying anything when you explain Antony and Cleopatra to him (he didn't need you too, he just wanted to have more memories of your voice and to make you feel smart). But he can't stop himself from drafting up a false reality, which he's believing is become less and less false with every touch and glance.
In the days after his return to the capitol when all is said and done, he tells himself that Sejanus had to die so he could live. That that's all it came down to, survival. Deep down, he doesn't bother kidding himself. He knows that he saw the perfect opportunity to get rid of the thing standing in between him and his happily ever after, and that you weren't very bright when it came to capitol propaganda. You might even feel inclined to be grateful once you learn about your beloved was all too willing to betray you and run off with some district songstress.
Having less to lose doesn't mean you have nothing to worry about. If anything, it makes you an easier target.
He gets a reoccurring nightmare about Sejanus having survived the hanging and biding his time in the woods of district 12 before coming back to hunt him down, to get you back. The paranoia will never fully go away.
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Text
Sweaty Palms 1
Warnings: this fic will include obsessive behaviour, possible non/ducbon, bullying, and other elements which may not be specifically triggered. Please be cautious in continuing on to the story.
Character: Curtis Everett
Summary: You start going to the gym to break old habits, but new things are scary.
Please reblog and leave some feedback, preferably in a reblog but you can always drop by my asks. I always love working in y'alls ideas with these AUs so I am so excited to hear from you.
As always, take care of yourself <3 be kind and be patient. Love you.
No tag lists. Please review my pinned and bio for guidelines.
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You’ve never been to a gym before. You’ve never been to a lot of places. Crowds are not your forte, public places are your personal nightmare, and strangers make your nervous. Everything makes you nervous. 
You can’t hide forever. That’s the conclusion you’ve come to. It's not a very comfortable one for you but if you don’t change, you’re always going to feel like this. Heavy, deflated, lost. It’s hard to put into words the feeling. The world just seems to pass you by, it functions around you, and sometimes you almost believe you’re not really there. Like a ghost, you just watch it without effect. 
The extra fifteen dollars a month isn’t too much of a stretch. You can hold off on your Kindle addiction for the expense. That’s another thing, you need to start being smart, more practical with your money. 
Planning. That’s something you’re working on. You didn’t come without one. You wouldn’t make it past the door without a set of steps to follow. 
You stop by the front counter first. You ask the woman behind it about how to get into the gym. You bought a membership online. She brings up your profile and issues you a membership card, explaining how you can also download the app and register with your member number. You thank her and continue through. 
You walk along the first floor, the leg machines and the rowing machines being worked by the regulars. You find your way to the dressing room on the second floor and enter with your head down. You try not to look anywhere but where you need to. You find a stall and change, packing away your street clothes, then go out to find a locker to shove your stuff in. 
You emerge with your phone and your new smart watch strapped to your wrist. You glance at the face of it. Your heart rate is already elevated. You unlock your phone and tap the app you downloaded the day before. You flipped through the catalogue of beginners’ workouts but didn’t have any of the equipment to do it yourself. It’s cheaper to just come here. 
You go to one of the spaces laid with mats and stop before one of the racks of weights. You stare at your phone in exasperation. You don’t understand, you’re connected to the wifi but the app just won’t connect. You could try on your own but you really don’t know what you’re doing. 
Ugh, why did you even bother? This is just another failure. You try restarting the app and then your phone, aware of the activity around you. Does anyone notice how clueless you look? 
“Hit it or quit it, little girl,” a man startles you as he brushes by you and grabs a large set of dumbbells, the thirty on the side catching your eye. You shift out of the way and press your phone against your chest, the smooth fabric of your shirt causing it to vibrate as if you tapped the screen. “This isn’t the phone club, it’s a gym.” 
“Sorry, I...” 
“There’s a cafe across the street, you can go play candy crush there,” he scoffs, “seems more your speed.” 
“Must feel real big, huh?” A gritty voice nears from your other side, “real heavy lifting there, pushing around a woman.” 
“Huh?” The first man narrows his eyes as he grips the set of dumbbells at his sides and faces the other man.  
He’s taller than you, muscular but not too bulky. His head is shaved and a dark short beard lines his jaw. Similar hair peeks out from the top of his tee shirt and dusts his toned arms. He slips past you, inserting himself between you and the gym watchdog. 
“Bro,” the first guy sneers, “don’t even start with me. You think you can step up.” 
“I’m not stepping up,” the other man defies, “I’m telling you to mind your business. Take your weights and leave her alone.” 
“Pfft, this some sort of date? You know, this isn’t the Olive Garden--” 
The second man crosses his arms, his back to you as he postures at the other man. He’s silent as he stares him down. You can’t see his face but you can feel the tension roiling off of him. There’s a thick lull as both men stand in a deadlock. 
“Got something to say, bud,” the first guy drops the weights and they boom against the floor. You wince and step back, “go on, I could use the work out.” 
“I said it,” the second man utters flatly, unyielding as he looms like a wall between you. 
“Fucking loser,” the other spits back, “you’re really gonna fuck around for that? Have you seen the skin around her?.” 
The man doesn’t respond. He stays as he is, an unmoving sentinel. The other man growls in frustration. 
“Fucking chicken shit, why don’t you speak up, dude?” 
Still no answer. Just a glare. You clutch your phone against your chest, frozen in horror and confusion. You didn’t mean to start a fight. You hate confrontation. 
Suddenly, the man before you jerks as he’s grabbed by the large man. His back hits you slightly and you drop your phone as he latches onto the other man. Everything happens so fast. The man who came to your defence has the other man on his back on the mat in seconds, a knee on his chest as his fists clasp around the top of his tank top. He bends over him and snarls. 
“Christ, bro, get the fuck off of me,” the man on the floor shoves on his arm helplessly.  
You glance around and notice the audience forming around you. Oh no. You look back to the two men. You step forward and tap the closest man on the shoulder, the one who defended you. 
“Please,” you croak nervously, “I don’t wanna get in trouble.” 
He turns his head, glancing back at you with powder blue eyes made bright by the dark row of his lashes. He exhales and lets go of the other man. He stands and puts his arm out as if to keep your behind him. 
“You really want me to repeat myself?” He sneers down at the other man. 
The larger man pushes himself up and scowls, shaking his head and he turns to stalk off muttering, leaving behind his forgotten dumbbells. The other man bends to pick them up and returns them to the rack. You look down at your empty hands then search the floor. 
You reach for your phone but it’s plucked up before you. The man brings it up between you and holds it out. You take it with a thank you. 
“No problem,” he rasps. 
“I... you didn’t have to--” 
“That guy’s an—he's not nice,” he corrects himself and drags his hand over his mouth and chin, “I don’t like bullies.” 
“It’s my fault,” you shrug, “I was in the way. But er, thanks. I'm... I’m sorry.” 
You turn away and look back at your phone. The app isn’t working. It says it needs another update. 
“You need help with something?” The man asks. 
“I...” you peek at him over your shoulder, “yeah, I... I don’t... I don’t usually... it’s my first time.” 
He nods and hums as he steps closer. You face him and show him your phone. You’re jittery as it trembles in your grip. He’s a stranger. Your whole plan was to avoid those. 
“I got this app to help but it’s not working,” you frown. 
“Try the update?” He points his thick, long finger at the screen. 
You tap and keep the phone visible. The app shop comes up and the update button is grayed out. Underneath, italics read ‘this update is not available for this device’. You frown and bring the screen closer to your face. 
“It won’t let me,” you pout and flick your lashes, mortified. How are you this helpless? Why did you have to have a witness? Several. You look around, some eyes darting in your direction. 
“Hm, well, what are you trying to do? You said this is your first day?” He prompts, “I could... I could help out a little. If you need. I’m no trainer, I just do my own thing but I could try.” 
You bat your lashes up at him then look back at your phone. You don’t know what else to do. Your whole plan has fallen apart because your operating system is outdated. 
“I... I’m not very... athletic,” you explain, “so I can’t go very fast.” 
“That’s okay,” he assures you, “I can go slow.” 
“You don’t have to do that. I can figure it out.” 
“I know I don’t have to,” he shifts and peers over his shoulder, “but how about I stay close anyway,” he moves and you can see the guy from earlier staring daggers from a chest press, “just in case.” 
“Oh, I... I’m sorry,” you tuck your phone into the pocket of your leggings, “I made him mad.” 
“Let him be mad. Got nothing to do with you,” he turns back to you again, “I could take you through some stretches and basics; lunges, squats, stuff like that. As best I can.” 
“Erm, I guess... I don’t wanna be in the way,” you rub your neck. 
“Not in my way,” he says evenly, “lets grab some weights first.” 
He directs you to the rack and without a thought you go to it. He approaches beside you as you realise, you didn’t say yes, you didn’t agree to this, but you don’t know what else to do. 
“Start with some twos,” he advises, “and if you’re not getting a good burn, we can up it later.” 
“Oh, okay,” you grab the dumbbells with the large twos on the side. He grabs the twenties. You feel totally inadequate. 
“So let’s get out space,” he backs up and looks around the mat, “here should be good.” He bends and sets down his weights, "for now, let’s put these aside and start our stretches. You don’t wanna pull anything.” 
You nod and place your weights beside you. You stand and stare at him. He’s in good shape. Great shape. He makes you even more conscious of your neglect. You already feel breathless. 
“I’m Curtis by the way,” he steps forward and offers his hand. 
“Oh, uh,” you shake his hand and give your name. 
“Pretty,” he says as he squeezes before letting you go. His hand is huge compared to yours and the gap in your strength is obvious just in that small gesture. 
“Alright, easy, slow, arms out,” he extends arms, “roll your shoulders and your head, loosen up.” 
You watch him and hesitate to follow his direction. You hate that there’s so many people around. You don’t want to look stupid. You’re so ungainly and awkward.  
“Try not to think about it too much. We’re all just here to work out, right?” He says and you shy away, embarrassed that he noticed your discomfort. You raise your arms and start the stretches, “good, you’re doing good, angel. Make sure to breath, alright?” 
You roll your shoulders and head and blow out a breath. Your nerves are pinging all over and your muscles are shaky. This isn’t what you expected at all. Your plans fallen to pieces and yet, it’s not entirely a lost cause. 
“Arms up,” he guides you into the next exercise, “on your toes, reach as far as you can...” 
You obey, letting his voice guide you. His deep, calm timber is almost comforting. The even tenor is a stark contrast to chaotic nervously. You can get through this. 
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Being Inarizaki’s Manager
Miss Manager is Shy and Cute 🥹
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Inarizaki x shy and cute! Female manager (she/her pronoun)
Warnings: Atsumu starts off as a butthole but we reform him, fluff
A/N: I wrote a headcanon set earlier with a shy reader and well, now I think I’m a shy reader expect 💅 so here’s one of my favs with a shy manager 😌
Oof- you good, girl?
Seriously this team is like the opposite of shy and calm
I wouldn’t say they are Karasuno level but they get HYPED
Now, many of them had given up the dream of ever having a female manager
They were prepared to brave it alone (namely Kita, Aran, Omimi, Akashi, Suna, Ginjima, etc)
They knew what their problem was…
Well PROBLEMS
Atsumu and Osamu
But it’s fine because they were efficient 💅
Kita did everything and well, Kita did everything
But that all changed when one day our precious Angel, Riseki, met someone new 👀
You see, you were the new girl in school
A curse honestly
Being the new kid is never easy, trying to find friends or fit in with everyone is so hard
And to top it off, you were ridiculously shy and a wallflower
It’s not that you didn’t want to make friends but your shy, cute nature made it difficult
When you first joined Riseki’s class, he thought you were rather cute
You kept to yourself, didn’t bother anyone
You were smart and capable
And most importantly, you had absolutely NO CLUE who the Miya twins were 😌
Riseki had watched you a few times, and you showed a lot of promise
You seemed to be able to ignore all the Miya chat surrounding you
You didn’t seem bothered by the fan girls
And most importantly, when a Miya fight would break out, you’d simply ✨ignore ✨ it
The problem was that Riseki knew you were shy
You’d never speak up in class, you barely talked to anyone
But he also knew this was his opportunity
So what does he do? Well he confides in Kita
“Hey Kita, so I think I might have found us a potential manager?”
Kita 👉🏻😐😑 *not convinced or optimistic whatsoever*
“Is this person a teenage girl?” Kita asks in return
“Yes but-”
Kita 👉🏻 No 🫶🏻🥰
“Here me out tho, she’s a transfer student and I’ve been keeping an eye on her,” Riseki says
Kita 👉🏻🤨 creepy but ight-
“She has shown zero reaction to the Miyas at all! Like none, not even a second glance!” He says
Kita 👉🏻 tell me more…
Riseki goes on to explain more about you and Kita agrees to give you a small trial run
Ok now that Kita is convinced, all Riseki needs to do is ask you
Simple right?
“Hey Yn!” He yells as you freeze
You rn 👉🏻😐😳
Please you are looking around like “is he talking to me? Am I Yn?”
“Hey I was wondering if you had a club yet?” He asked as you just stared 👁️👄👁️
Please Yn, function
Riseki realizes that he probably came in way too strong, so he backs up a bit
“Umm I’m sorry to come at you so strong but I was wondering if you needed a club? The boys volleyball team is looking for a manager and I think you’d be perfect,” he says as your eyes widen even more
Please blink before your eyes dry up
“Ohh umm I don’t think I umm- I’m not sure I’d be good- I don’t play volleyball or know anything really,” you say as you blush heavily
Riseki is DYING at how cute you are 😭
“It’s ok Yn! I can teach you everything and the guys, wellmostoftheguys, are super helpful!” He says as you ponder for a bit
Maybe this is just what you need? You never take chances like this and maybe now is the time to start branching out
“Umm I guess I can try,” you say, a tiny smile lighting up your face as Riseki dies inside 😭
After school, he brings you to practice
The gym is huge and all the guys in it are huge as well
You start to second guess your decision
Maybe you aren’t cut out to be social, yeah maybe you’ll just be shy forever
Suddenly you are forced out of you thoughts when you are approached by four guys
You quickly take refuge behind Riseki and peer out from behind him as the boys all smile at you
“Kita, Aran, Omimi, Akagi- this is Yn! Yn these are our third years!” Riseki says as you blush hard and peek out from behind him
“Umm hello, I’m YN from class 1-4. It’s very n-nice to meet y-you,” you stutter out as the third years practically perish
How the heck are you so freaking cute?? 😭
“It’s nice to meet you YN, I’m Kita, the captain. Thank you so much for coming to meet with us,” Kita says, already impressed that you aren’t making waves or causing any disruptions
“T-thank you for having me,” you say as you stand next to Riseki now, a little more confident
“So Yn, do you know anything about volleyball?” Aran asks as you shake your head
“Not really but I’m a pretty fast learner,” you say as the boys all nod
Suddenly, a rouge ball comes flying out of nowhere as you quickly take cover as Akagi stops it from hitting you
“Are you ok Yn?” Kita asks as you nod
“I’m fine thank you,” you say before being approached by a boy with a yellowish blonde hair color
“Hey girls aren’t allowed in the gym!” He shouts as you reeled back a bit
Who was this extremely rude person?
“Shut up ya idiot! Obviously she’s talking to the captain!” A silver toned man says
“Yeah well I don’t need to be interrupted by any squealing pigs during my serves so get out of here!” He shouts at you as you quietly back up
“ATSUMU! Knock it off, stop being so rude! This isn’t one of your fan girls, this is Yn and she’s going to be our trial manager!” Kita scolds the yellowish blonde as he scoffs
“This? This is going to be our manager? She’s tiny and looks like she’s afraid of her own shadow! How is she going to ever be a manager for a powerhouse?” Atsumu says as you whince a little
Man he was a jerk 😒
“Damn Sumu, you’re being a jerk! Leave the poor girl alone,” a tall black haired man says
“Suna’s right! She didn’t do anything to you,” Omimi says as Atsumu stares at you
“She’s literally taking up space! Like how is she going to even be helpful?” Atsumu says as you finally lose it
“Excuse me,” you say, a little anger and agitation now clear on your voice
Everyone 👉🏻👀
“Yes, I maybe a little shy and skittish at times but it’s extremely rude of you to judge someone you haven’t even been introduced to,” you say as the men all look at you
Kita is like mentally taking notes
Suna has his phone out and recording 📱
Riseki is like “who is this?”
“My name is Yn and I’m a first year. I might not be the best but I’m smart and I learn quickly. If I interrupted your practice, I apologize but I won’t stand here and be treated with disrespect,” you say as you bow and take your leave
Honestly Queen shit 👑
Oohhhh Kita and Riseki are BIG MAD
Kita doesn’t say anything, he just GLARES at Atsumu
Riseki turns and goes after you but not before giving Atsumu the death glare of a lifetime
Aran, Omimi and Akagi are ready to kill
Suna is still recording 📱
Ginjima has now joined the pack and is wondering what the heck is going on
And Osamu, well Osamu is 👀 👇🏻
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“YOU TYRANNICAL PIGGGGG!” He shouts as he kicks Atsumu in the back
But this time, nobody stops him from beating up his brother
The team 👉🏻 😙🎶
Meanwhile-
“YN wait! Please wait- I’m so sorry about Atsumu!” Riseki says apologizing to you
“Riseki, I’m sorry but I can’t-,”
“Please Yn! PLEASE! Please just give us a shot! I promise, we will kick Atsumu off the team if we have to just please be our manager!” Riseki says, on his knees BEGGING
Dang these guys really want a manager 😅
You sign, “I’ll do a trial run if it means that much to you.”
Riseki 👉🏻😐😳🥹 really?!?
You smile and nod a little
Riseki pulls you in for a deep hug 🫂 as you simply blush
And this began your journey as Inarizaki’s sweet manager
I wish I could say it was all smooth sailing but alas, Atsumu is still on the team 🙄
You aren’t sure why but at first, he’s just not nice at all
Like he refuses to take a towel from you, or even drink the water you hand him
He kind of makes you miserable
He knows how shy you are so he often puts you on the spot just to embarrass you
“Hey Yn do you know what that was called?” He says as he slams a serve over
Omimi and Akagi 👉🏻🙄 here we go…
Kita 👉🏻 😐😑 Atsumu-
Osamu 👉🏻 just say the word Yn 🙎‍♂️🤛🏻
Suna 👉🏻👀📱
“Umm a serve ace right?” You shyly respond
“Well would you look at that, she can learn,” Atsumu laughs as he walks away
Everyone is GLARING at Sumu rn
Literally Riseki was not joking when he said they would kick him off the team Yn
Idk if you bruised his ego or what Yn but man’s has it out for you 😅
However, one thing about Atsumu is that you can win the man over
It’s simple really… 🙌🏻 praise 🙌🏻
And you do just that
“Sumu your sets are really off today!” Aran says as Atsumu glares at him
“Yeah dude you literally almost flubbed our quick,” Suna says as Atsumu rolls his eyes and walks away
He sits on the bench, putting a towel over his head as he ponders
He’s not sure what’s wrong with him today but he’s been off all day
You noticed something was off, thinking maybe he was just having a bad day
But then you realized that Atsumu Miya wasn’t use to having bad days
So you decide to extend an olive branch
You walk over the him as he sits on the bench
“YN wait!” Osamu tries to stop you but he can’t
Suna’s eyes widen in fear for your life as Kita gets ready to save you from certain destruction
You calmly sit beside Atsumu as he turns his head and glares at you
You smile a little and place your hand on his gently
The team 👉🏻😳😲
“Everyone has bad days Atsumu. If we didn’t have bad days, we’d never get better. I still think you’re an amazing setter and if you ever need a hug, I’m here for you,” you say as Atsumu’s eyes widen
Atsumu is to stunned to speak
Quick Suna take a picture!
Seriously he was so mean to you and yet, you were still so nice to him
You smile and stand up, walking back to practice when it happens 🫣
Two strong arms grasp you from behind as a warmth radiates around you
You smile a little, grabbing his arms and squeezing
“Thanks Yn,” Atsumu says as he lets go and walks back into the court
The entire team is too stunned to speak
You say nothing as you go back to your job, handling towels, volleyballs and notes
“Did that just happen?” Ginjima asks
“I think so? Is this a dream?” Omimi responds
“Holy crap Atsumu actually has a heart?” Suna says
“OF COURSE I HAVE A HEART YA IDIOT!” Atsumu screams from the court
“Not like anyone could every tell ya grinch!” Osamu responds
“EXCUSE YOU SIR?!? WE ALL HAVE BAD DAYS, IF WE DISNT HOW WOULD WE EVER GET BETTER!” Atsumu responds
“YN literally just told you that ya dummy!” Ginjima says, rolling his eyes 🙄
The guys go back to practice
This time, Atsumu is much more on point
You smile and clap as the boys all kill it in practice
You don’t cheer loud, simply clap and smile 😊
It’s literally giving them life Yn!
Now when it came time for tournaments, you can’t say you weren’t nervous
This was your first time around so many people
You were still pretty shy, even thought you’d become friends with the entire volleyball team
Literally they were so protective of their shy little manager 🥹
“Ok is everyone here?” Kita asks as you nod
You had been walking in back with Suna, making sure all the members stayed together
“Ok let’s go get warmed up!” Kita shouted as the guys all nodded and followed
You were walking when suddenly, your notebook fell and your papers scattered everywhere
“Crap!” You silently said as you kneeled down to pick them up
However what you failed to notice was that the team had continued to walk
You see where I’m going with this 👀
“Hey guys- oh no!” You said as you stood up, realizing there was every color of jersey surrounding you BUT black and white
You 👉🏻😐😳😢
“Ok Yn calm down, the team is somewhere,” you silently muttered to yourself as you wandered around giants
You felt like crying, scared and nervous because there were so many people around
You had to ask someone for help
Suddenly, you bumped into the back of someone
“I’m so sorry!” You said, tears in your eyes as she looked at you
“Oh it’s fine, hey are you ok?” She asked, gorgeous blue eyes watching you
You shook your head, eyes meeting hers
“Hey Kiyoko, I’ve got the bento boxes all sorted!” A blonde girl said, walking up to you
“What team do you work with?” The girl named Kiyoko asked
“I-I’m with Inarizaki,” you said as they both smiled
“Come with me and Yachi, we can take you to the gym,” Kiyoko said as Yachi stood beside you
“Thank you so much,” you say bashfully to the two pretty girls
Meanwhile…
“Ok Riseki, Ginjima can you help YN fill up the water bottles please?” Kita asks as they nod and look over to you
Only you’re not there 😅
They start looking all over for their precious bby
Please Ginjima even looks under his shoes incase he stepped on you 😭
“Umm Kita,” Riseki interrupts
“Yes,” Kita says looking at him
“YNs not here,” Riseki says as everyone stops
“What the hell? Where is she?” Kita says looking around everywhere for you
“Suna weren’t you walking with her?” Aran asks as Suna gulps
“She was with me just a a minute ago!” Suna says, now panicking too
“Oh my god and I was just starting to actually like her and you lost her?!?” Atsumu says as Osamu smacks the back of his head
Then they hear their opponents say something
“Has anyone seen Kiyoko and Yachi?” Their team captain says
“OH MY GOD WE HAVE A MANAGER KIDNAPPER!!!” Riseki yells as two of Karasunos memebers RUN from the gym
“We have to find Yn!” Aran shouts following them with the rest of the team
All that remains in the gym is Kita and Karasuno’s captain, Daichi
“We could just text them,” Daichi says as Kita nods
Back with you, you are enjoying talking with the two Karasuno managers
They both seem a little shy like you but they still manage a strong school
“The gym is just up this way-” Kiyoko says when you hear it
At first, it sounds like a stampede of elephants
Then you realize it’s just like 15 teenage boys racing toward you 😅
“YN OH MY GOD WE FOUND YOU!” Riseki says pulling you into a hug as your boys gather around you
“Are you hurt? Do you need help? Are you hungry?” Aran says panicking as you watch Kiyoko and Yachi fight off their team
You giggle a little, the boys taken a back
“I’m fine guys, I actually just made some friends!” You says smiling at Kiyoko and Yachi
Inarizaki rn 👉🏻😐😳🥹 our baby is growing up!
“Thanks Kiyoko and Yachi! I’ll see you in the gym!” You say, waving to the two girls as they follow you
You look over at Riseki and give him the biggest hug
Riseki rn 👉🏻😳
“Thanks for inviting me to be your team manager! Now let’s go kick some butt!” You say sweetly as the team stops
The team 👉🏻👁️💧👄💧👁️
No need to worry about the match Yn, I’m sure everything will be just fine 😌
1K notes · View notes
literaryavenger · 6 months
Text
Heartbroken
Summary: Tony helps you through your first heartbreak.
Pairing: Dad!Tony Stark x Daughter!female!reader
Warnings: Fluff. Language cause why not. Reader is hurting. Tony is an angel. My poor attempts at being funny.
Word Count: 1.4K
A/N: I wanted some soft dad Tony and this came out. The end is a little rushed, I didn't know where I wanted it to go but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. I hope you like it!
Masterlist
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You exited the elevator and made your way through the living room, not sparing anybody a second glance.
You went straight to your room and slammed the door behind you, leaving all of the avengers that were currently in the living room in a shocked silence.
That wasn’t like you.
You're a cheery and positive teenager that never misses a chance to hang out with your favorite group of superheroes.
Even during your bad days, you at least said hi and chat a bit before going to your room, so your behavior today as you came home from school leaves everyone worried.
They all know high school isn't easy, but it somehow never affected you much.
Maybe because you grew up in the spotlight, being a Stark.
You were the perfect combination of Pepper and Tony, smart and driven, sarcastic and confident, sweet and supportive. Really just a ray of sunshine in everyone’s life.
Everybody at Midtown High knows who you are and every student you meet gets surprised by how nice you are to anyone that approaches you, everyone expecting you to be a stuck up bitch.
You talk to and befriend anybody who’s nice to you, but you spend most of your time with Peter, Ned and MJ.
Speaking of which, while everybody stares at the door you just disappeared through, Peter enters the room through the window, a feat that not everyone is used to yet.
"Damn it, bug boy, stop doing that!" Sam almost yells, never failing to get startled by his abrupt entrances.
"Sorry, Mr. Falcon, sir." he says sheepishly while Bucky snickers like every other time, but before they can start bickering like always, Tony addresses Peter.
"What’s wrong with my daughter, Spider-ling?" he says in a serious tone, despite the nickname he can’t seem to get tired of.
"I don’t know, Mr. Stark. She was fine during lunch, but when school ended she was nowhere to be seen. We were suppose to meet at the exit like always but she rushed home alone. That’s why I’m here, I was worried." the more Peter talks the more Tony gets worried.
It wasn’t like you to not show up to do something you planned to do with someone else, let alone without giving a reason or at least a warning first.
Tony has heard enough so he gets up from his seat and walks towards your room, knocking twice, then once and then three times fast, a secret knock you came up with when you were little designed just for him.
He hears a faint ‘come in’ and, with furrowed eyebrows, he enters your room, finding you sitting on the bed hugging your knees to your chest.
Without saying a word he comes in, shuts the door and sits next to you, putting an arm around your shoulders. You shift to put your head in his chest and, when hug him as tightly as you can, Tony can actually feel his own heart breaking at the sight.
His little ray of sunshine, crying her heart and soul out and there's nothing more he can do but hold you. So he holds onto you just as tight as you are, willing himself not to let his own tears fall at seeing you so broken, needing to be strong for you.
After you calm down a bit, he can’t help himself as he asks "who do I have to kill?"
He feel a little better when he hears your little giggle against his chest, but he's still very worried and you both know he wasn’t entirely kidding.
He doesn’t rush you into talking, giving you time to put together your thoughts before starting to explain.
"I’ve been seeing someone..." you start, sitting up straight, sniffling, and he already doesn't like where this is going. "I’m sorry I haven’t said anything, mom knows though…"
"Of course she does." he mumbles, a little offended you would tell her and not him, and Tony Stark was never one to not voice his thoughts. "Why didn’t you tell me?" he was clearly hurt, pouting a bit just to amuse you. You giggle again as you answer.
"I’m sorry, but I know what you would’ve said: ‘You’re not allowed to date until you’re 65’" you try to imitate him with a deep voice that makes him chuckle.
"Damn right you can’t!" He says and you lighten up a little at his laughter and keep talking.
"I was going to introduce you soon, I swear! But then…" your smile falls and you can’t stop the few tears that escape. "Today, while I was waiting on Peter, I saw him…"
You trail off and he holds your hand giving you an encouraging squeeze but still not pushing you. Then, in the smallest voice he’d ever heard you use, you finish your sentence. "He was kissing another girl…"
He wished you hadn’t finished the sentence. You start crying again, quieter than before, but it still broke Tony’s heart.
"Oh, honey…" He wraps his arms around you again, mentally planning how to kill and dispose of the body of the little prick, when he hears you again, your voice barely a whisper.
"It hurts, dad… why does it hurt so much?" you still couldn’t stop crying, barely able to finish the sentence.
"I know, Tinkerbell." The use of your childhood nickname made you smile against the tears, the memory of how it came to be coming to the forefront of your mind.
You were about 6 years old, watching Peter Pan for the first time with your parents, when you started giggling uncontrollably.
Your parents gave you a funny look, expecting you to be sad at the part where Tinkerbell was dying and worried they were raising a little psychopath.
"What are you laughing at, Junior?" much to Pepper’s displeasure Tony had started calling you that, sustaining that you were turning out to be just like a little version of him.
Your mom disagreed, but was slowly changing her mind, especially after what little six year old you said next.
"Daddy’s just like Tinkerbell: if she doesn’t get attention he dies!" you got out between giggles, making Pepper almost double over laughing as Tony started a tickle attack, a fake offended look on his face.
After that your dad started calling you Tinkerbell, not able to let go of your first sarcastic comment, against him of all people, but secretly very proud.
You were brought back to the present by your dad’s words as he started rubbing your back. 
"I know it hurts now, but it’s gonna get better, I promise. Your first heartbreak is never easy, but the good news is you have your whole life ahead of you to find a guy smart enough to understand how lucky he is to be loved by you and never let you go."
Now, Tony Stark is many things.
He’s a genius, billionaire, former playboy and philanthropist. He’s an entrepreneur, a superhero, a savior. He’s a role model, a caring friend and doting husband.
But, at this very moment, you can’t help but be proud to call him your father.
You wish you could tell him that at the moment, but you can’t find the voice to speak so you make a mental note to tell him later. Right now all you can do is hug him so tight you’re not entirely sure he’s able to breathe, but he doesn’t make any attempts to make you let go.
The next couple of hours are spent between hugs, words of encouragement and Tony trying everything he can to make you laugh.
When he succeeds in lifting your spirits, you both make your way to the living room where all of the Avengers are now, Pepper included. You sit next to her and she wraps her arm around you, having already been updated on the situation, of course.
Everyone else seemed to have come to a mutual understanding of not pressing the matter, knowing you’ll open up when you’re ready and not wanting to upset you again now that you’re back to your cheery self.
You’re glad nobody’s asking any questions, acting like nothing happened, exactly what you need right now.
You spend the rest of the day with your family, forgetting all about your broken heart, realizing you’re better off without him.
At one point your dad whispers to you "I still need the name of the little jerk, so I can fuck him up" and you can’t help but laugh, more glad than ever to be lucky enough to be a Stark.
288 notes · View notes
paradubolical · 3 months
Text
it's that time again
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here's how to make alcohol at home
recipe under the cut. it's long. I warned you.
FOREWARD:
I do not endorse regular substance abuse or at-home distillation without proper training. Don’t hit your kids. Don’t blow up your house. It’s okay to eat shit and die, like, once every three months, not every two weeks, not every weekend. If you’re doing that, there’s not much I can do to help or give in way of advice. But this recipe is not for you. And you should reconsider some stuff if you haven’t already.
That being said.
The following is my personal method for brewing beer, mead, wine, etc. I have utilized this method many times and it has worked wonderfully. I have achieved up to 15% proof. This means that the substance you create should be perfectly drinkable and safe if you follow the instructions and use your head. HOWEVER. You should be prepared to read this whole document before making anything. There are warnings and safety precautions you need to take, and I don’t want anyone to get botulism of some shit because of a shoddy recipe that doesn’t explain absolutely everything.
I also do not encourage the practice of distillation at home. This is not because it is illegal. For those unaware, distillation is the semi-complicated process of heating alcohol to produce hard liquors. While it may sound fun to make Smirnoff from home, there is a reason we do not. Alcohol is extremely flammable. You will set yourself or your valuables on fire.
Ingredients:
1 Packet ActiveDry Yeast
1 Cup Sugar or 1 Cup Sugar Equivalent*
⅔ Gallon Water
Supplies:
1 Gallon Container
1 Suitable Cork or Lid**
3-4 Ballons, Latex Gloves, or even condoms will do honestly***
IMPORTANT:
You must have a space prepared ahead of time to store the JFCB while it brews. Remember. It will stink like hell. Anyone who smells it will know it’s alcohol. Use your noggin okay
NOTES:
*
In simple terms, alcohol is created when yeast eats sugar. You can use pretty much anything sugary. Don’t use chocolate unless you want to die.
I like to use those strawberry-flavored grandma hard candies. The stuff they make is super fucking strong and tastes like god himself descended from the heavens to kick your ass. It makes what I like to call the JFCB. It’s high-proof enough to burn your throat. So, you know, try to moderate.
**
You need something to seal the container with once you’re done. Pick wisely.
***
It’s gotta be something that can form a seal around the lip of the container, but also expand like a balloon. These are some of the things I’ve found work best.
INSTRUCTIONS:
Creating the Base
Take your 1-Gallon Container and fill it with half the packet of ActiveDry yeast. You don’t need all of it. Trust me on this one.
Pour in your 1 Cup Sugar or Equivalent.
Pour in the ⅔ Gallon of Water.
Either whisk or mix vigorously. When it starts foaming, you’re done.
Stage 1
Put the Balloon/Latex/Condom over the lip of the container. Make sure it’s secure and extremely tight, but there’s plenty of room for air to fill.
Find your designated Place to Put It. This should be somewhere nobody’s gonna smell it, and also somewhere nobody’s gonna go for the next three odd months.
Set your shit down.
Wait 2-3 weeks.
Stage 2
After 2-3 weeks, the alcohol should stop emitting gas. At this point, it’s safe to cork. Don’t do it beforehand or the container will explode.
I like to put some hot glue or wax over the lip just to make sure it’s sealed extra well. I sometimes put tinfoil too. It doesn’t actually help anything, just looks fancy.
Find somewhere nice to store it. Make sure it’s right side up. Odds are you sealed it pretty poorly if it’s your first time, and you’re gonna be in deep shit if it starts to smell.
If it does, that means you corked it too early. Move it back to your Place to Put It for like a month. Recork it after that time’s up. It might be difficult, but you’re smart. You can do it. It should be good to go after that.
And there you have it. A nice bottle of…. Something?
Enjoy. Or just leave it to sit.
FAQ:
Q: I’m worried about getting botulism from this shit. Is it really safe?
A: Usually, people don’t get botulism. My rule of thumb is that if it smells like shit you should really just throw it away. If you’re really worried, I’d also recommend throwing it away. The paranoia’s not worth it.
Q: I’m a minor. Should I try this at home?
A: Probably not. I’m a minor too, so fuck’s to say what my opinion’s worth.
Q: I want to try vodka/scotch/whiskey. What should I do?
A: You should just not. Or buy it at the store. I don’t know man i’m not the all-seeing eye
Q: I’ve heard you need an airlock for this. Do you need an airlock for this?
A: Absolutely fucking not. They are feeding you airlock propaganda. You don’t need an airlock.
168 notes · View notes
atlabeth · 1 year
Text
far too young to die - anthony lockwood
summary: three things happen on the day you decide to solve your problem:
your tea-making skills get lauded
you get the biggest history lesson of your life
everything goes wrong.
you should have expected this the moment lockwood & co got involved.
a/n: this got away from me but twas very fun to write and protective lockwood is becoming my lifeblood lol<3 enjoy and remember kids: fuck netflix
wc: 5.7k
warning(s): canon typical stuff, mentions of murder and throat slitting, implied/sort of described domestic abuse, hurt/comfort. reader panics a lot. suspend your disbelief please and thank you. reader also has a last name of holloway just for convenience
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Reading the newspaper was impossible this morning. 
Your leg wouldn’t stop bouncing up and down, and the envelope on the far side of the table drew your eye every five seconds, and your neighbor did not need to be cutting his lawn at the moment, and all the while that presence was there. It always was, whispering illegible things to you and taunting you through the shadows and making your life a living hell you couldn’t prove. 
An unwilling shiver ran down your spine, and you tamped down on it. 
After today, it would finally be over. 
Hopefully. 
The doorbell rang, and you about jumped out of your skin. You took a deep breath, calming your heartbeat as you set your cup of tea back on the table, and went over to the door. When you opened it, you were met by three teenagers about your age, and the lanky, dark-haired boy in front gave you a small smile.
“We’re here for Edmund Holloway,” he said. “Have we got the right address?”
“You do—I’m his daughter,” you said. “You’re the agents?” 
The boy nodded. “Anthony Lockwood of Lockwood and Co.” He held out his hand and you shook it, and once you released it he gestured to the other boy and girl standing with him. “These are my colleagues, Lucy Carlyle and George Karim.” 
You nodded again, wringing your hands together as you let out a shaky exhale and said your name. “Anthony, Lucy, George— nice to meet you all.” 
“Lockwood is just fine,” he said, and you nodded. 
“Are you the one who put out the ad?” George asked with a frown. “It doesn’t look like your father is here.” 
You shook your head. “My father put out the ad. He’s on a business trip at the moment.” 
Anthony frowned. “Why isn’t he here?” 
“He doesn’t handle ghosts very well,” you said wryly. “Gives him an awful fright.” 
“Most people don’t,” Lucy said. “That’s why we’re around.” 
“Forgive my bluntness, but it doesn’t seem very smart of him to leave his daughter in a haunted house,” Lockwood said. “Even if agents are clearing the house.” 
“He doesn’t exactly… know I’m still here,” you admitted sheepishly. “My father expected me to stay at a friend’s house until today, give you all the payment, and then make myself scarce until the problem was solved.” 
“Why in the world are you here then?” George asked. 
“...Because I need to know that this ghost is gone,” you stated. “I need to see with my own eyes that it’s over.” 
Lockwood eyed you cautiously, and you cleared your throat as you stepped aside. “Come in, agents. I can explain over tea.” 
You closed the door as they filed inside, and you wrought your hands together as you followed them. “I’ve got Earl Grey and chamomile, if anyone’s interested,” you said as you began filling up your kettle. 
“Chamomile would be lovely,” Lucy said, her eyes wandering around the interior as she took a seat next to George at your table. 
Lockwood, however, stayed standing. He pointed at a painting hanging on the wall and glanced at you. “Starry Night?” 
You nodded. “My grandmother painted it when she was younger. She specifically left it in her will for me.”
He smiled. “It’s beautiful.” 
“It is, isn’t it?” You pulled a tin of loose tea out of your cabinet and set it on the table. “I’ve never been much of a painter myself, but I’ve always wanted to learn like her.” 
“As interesting as this is, you said you would explain your poor choices,” George interrupted. “And your history.” 
“Blunt as he is,” Lockwood said dryly, “he’s right.” He took a seat next to Lucy, leaning back in the chair. “Tell us everything you know about this house—anything that could be causing the haunting.” George cleared his throat and his lips twitched. “And why you’re still in the haunted house alone.” 
You nodded, leaning against the counter with a sigh. “To answer the question on all of your minds, I have no idea who the ghost could be. My only guess is some fellow from decades ago, back before the house was in our immediate family.” 
“You inherited it?” George asked. 
“From my grandmother,” you said, “the same one who painted. She died a few decades ago, and she left the house to her son in her will. After my mother died, my father and I moved here to get away from the memories.” 
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Lucy said softly, and you managed a smile. 
“Thank you.” You folded your arms across your chest. “And before you ask, no—it’s not my mother’s ghost. She died far away from here, and she’d have no reason to stay behind.” 
“Do you know when this house was built?” George asked. “A lot of the architecture looks Victorian.” 
“Sharp eye,” you said with a slight smile, and you stood up from your spot against the counter as the kettle started to whistle. You poured the water into three mugs and added your handmade tea bags before you looked back at them. “It was built in the 1850s, I believe. I think it’s been in our family since then, but I’ve only been aware of it since my grandmother.” 
“Could it be your grandmother’s ghost then?” Lucy asked, and you shook your head. 
“She didn’t die here. And she wouldn’t have any reason to stay either,” you said. “Which is why I’ve had no idea who it could be.” 
“Strange indeed,” Lockwood agreed, suddenly speaking up. His gaze pierced into you. “You’ve got such a connection to this ghost and yet you don’t even know who it could be.” 
Your cheeks burned. George huffed a laugh. 
“That’s right,” he said. “You haven’t even told us about why you’re still here.” 
“The ghost hasn’t just been haunting our house,” you murmured, staring down at the floorboards. You’d have to clean the dirt between the cracks later. “It’s… it’s been haunting me too.” 
Lucy frowned. “What do you mean?” 
“It’s always around me,” you said, and even then you could feel the chills all over your body. At this point, though, it might’ve been your own design. “I— I can always feel its presence, I hear it whispering to me constantly, and it feels like every time I touch something old in here I get a damned vision, or voices in my head, and—” 
You stopped, realizing your voice had risen without you noticing, and you took a deep breath. 
“And I feel like I’m going insane,” you finished, your tone much quieter than before. 
“You’ve got Touch,” Lockwood concluded, something different in his eyes. Lucy’s expression had softened, and George just looked even more interested than before when you nodded. 
“Talent that strong and you’re not an agent,” he said. “Why?” 
“I’ve never wanted it,” you said dryly. “And after dealing with this ghost for the past few months, I’ve got even less desire.” 
“You should consider it,” he said. “Maybe then you won’t have a ghost in your backyard.”
“This ghost has been toying with you for months, but it hasn’t even tried to harm you,” Lucy said. “It’s definitely a Type 2 based off your description, so I’ve got no idea why. What’s the point?” 
Lockwood shrugged, and he gave a nod of thanks as you placed the mugs of tea in front of them. “Maybe it’s related to you after all. I’ve heard cases of relatives not harming their own, especially in more sentient Type 2s—it’s rare, but it happens.” He looked at you. “If this house has been in your family since the 1800s, surely there’s been at least one violent Holloway death worthy of the Other Side.” 
“Is your theorizing always this fun?” you asked as you crossed your arms. 
“Usually more,” he said helpfully. Lockwood took a sip of tea and hummed. “We should get chamomile more often.” 
“I’m always telling you to,” Lucy said. “George is just insistent on making his own black tea.” 
“That’s because it’s far superior!” he exclaimed. “You should be thanking me for it, honestly.” 
Lockwood took another sip and looked at them. “She makes a great chamomile. It might just change your mind.” 
“I don’t mean to interrupt your conversation,” you said, arms still folded as their heads all snapped to you, “but we’ve only got two hours until the sun sets, and this house is still very much haunted.” 
“Right. I guess that means we should start preparations.” Lockwood stood up, smiling at you. “Thank you for the tea and your information. We’ll take your keys, vet the place, and hopefully have your ghost vanquished before morning comes.” 
“You don’t need my keys,” you said. “I’m staying.
George laughed. “You can’t be serious.” 
He looked at you, completely serious, and then at Lockwood, who wasn’t immediately objecting, and his eyes widened. “You can’t be serious!” 
“I want to help,” you said plainly. “It’s my house, it’s my ghost. I want it gone, and I want to be there when it happens.” 
“You’ve got no training,” he said. “You’ve got Talent, sure, but zero training. You’ll just—” he looked at Lockwood— “she’ll just slow us down.” 
“…You do know this place better than anyone,” Lockwood said, eyes still on you. “Right?” 
You nodded. “Lived here for the past ten years. I know all its nooks and crannies, and I could guide you through it blindfolded.” 
“You’re not an agent,” George said. 
“You said it yourself that I’ve got Talent,” you said, “and an obvious connection to this place and whatever’s haunting it, seeing as the ghost won’t leave me alone.” 
“Lucy, you can’t seriously be okay with this,” he said, glancing at her. 
“…I have some Touch too. I can help her, see if we’re picking up the same things. Besides,” Lucy said with a shrug, “you all took me in on a whim before I was fully certified. It’s just one job, in her house of all places.” 
“I won’t impede your work—I promise.” You looked at Lockwood, desperation mixing with resolve in your eyes. “For months, this house has haunted me from within. I want to be with you when you destroy it.” 
Lockwood’s lips quirked up in the slightest of smiles as he nodded. “Alright, then.” 
You immediately broke into a wide smile of your own as George sighed. “DEPRAC is going to have a field day with us if anything goes wrong. Allowing a completely uncertified girl to help us.”
“If anything goes wrong, I’ll personally take the blame for it,” you said. “I’ll say I forced you into letting me work with you all, and I will pay any fines.”
“Once we got fined 60,000 pounds for burning a house down,” he deadpanned. “Are you alright with that?”
You frowned. “Should I really be hiring you all?” 
“Come off it, George,” Lockwood said, and he collapsed his hands together. “Nothing like that will happen today, I assure you.” He smiled wryly. “As long as everything you told us was the truth, that is.” 
“It is,” you said. “I wouldn’t lie about something like this.” 
Lucy huffed a laugh. “You’d be surprised what some people do.” 
“Another reason I don’t want to become an agent,” you supplied. 
Lockwood picked up their bags and set them on the table, and he pulled out a bundle of chains then he tossed it to you. You caught it with a slight grunt. 
“Do you know how to use those, not-an-agent?” Lockwood asked wryly. 
You rolled your eyes, though not without mirth, and nodded. “I read, Mr. Lockwood.” 
“Good. Those are for your protection. We’ll protect you, of course,” he gestured at his rapier, “but it’s a last resort.” 
“Let’s try not to get there, then,” you said. 
“One thing you should know about working with us is that things rarely go to plan,” George said. 
“That is not true,” Lockwood rushed, but that only proved that it was most certainly true. 
You sighed as you finished the rest of your tea from before, having gone cold. You were certainly getting yourself into something with these agents. 
“Right, then,” Lockwood said, clearing his throat. He pulled out his rapier, that small smirk showing itself again as he looked at all of you. “Let’s catch ourselves a ghost.” 
-
You didn’t think your house had ever been as intimidating, as tense, as it did now.
You creeped through its hallways alongside the agents, the chains icy cold in your grip, almost scared to even breathe. Lockwood and Lucy had their rapiers drawn, and George held a net in one hand with one of their bags slung over his shoulder. 
They carried themselves differently than any of the teenagers you’d been around, with an air of eerie confidence completely foreign to you. It was admirable in a sense. Scary to think it could have been you. 
“No death glows yet,” Lockwood muttered. “Hear anything, Luce?”
“Very faint yelling,” she murmured. “I can tell it’s an argument—there’s two different voices, but that’s all I can make out.”
Lockwood looked at you, but you shook your head. “Not ringing a bell.”
“Where?” George asked. “Arguments are a good sign.” 
Lucy edged past Lockwood so she was in the lead, and you moved up the stairs. She paused at the top, her eyes closed and her brow slightly furrowed. “It’s even louder up here. I feel it all over, but it’s stronger around here. It’s a couple, a man and a woman—finances, jealousy, general unhappiness…” Lucy opened her eyes and looked at you. “Did your grandparents argue while they lived here?” 
“They argued like any other couple,” you said, “but as far as I know, they were completely happy. They loved each other.” You frowned. “And I don’t know why regular arguments would be so strong around here after so long.” 
“Time isn’t the biggest aspect for sounds,” Lucy explained. “They can linger for decades and be as strong as the day it happened.”
“And maybe they weren’t just regular arguments,” George suggested, your stomach sinking at the thought. 
“Could it be your grandfather’s ghost?” Lucy asked. 
You shook your head. “No. He’s alive, and he doesn’t even live in England anymore.” 
“Move around and touch some things then,” George said. “See if you get anything.” 
And so you did. You handed the chains to Lockwood and laid your hands on various things around the hallway and some of the rooms while George and Lucy went off on their own—the walls, certain objects, the beds. All you got were memories from your first few years here, and a blur of the decades between your grandparents. It was overwhelming, and you had to pull away after you touched your grandfather’s watch in your dad’s room. 
“Do you feel alright?” Lockwood asked. Though George and Lucy had gone off on their own, Lockwood had stayed with you to, one, make sure you were protected as his client, and two, keep track of any information. “You’re stumbling a bit.” 
“Yeah,” you murmured, “I’m… I’m fine. I’m just not used to using my Talent on purpose like this.” 
“On purpose,” he repeated wryly. 
“I try not to do anything with it,” you said. “I told you, I don’t want to be an agent.” 
“There’s a lot of people out there that would kill for a power like yours,” he said. “Kids stuck on night watch, agents with fading Talent, adults who can’t see for shit. Seems strange to just… ignore yours.” 
You shrugged uncomfortably. “I’m not ignoring it now, am I?” 
“No,” Lockwood said, “I suppose you’re not.”
Eventually, you made it to another room, your grandparents’ old bedroom that you’d ended up turning into your father’s office, and when you opened the door Lockwood whistled. 
“That’s a bright death glow.” 
You grimaced. “So this is where they died.” 
He nodded. “By the look of it, it wasn’t pretty.” 
“Great,” you muttered, and you walked inside. 
“Lucy! George!” Lockwood called as he followed you in, craning his neck to look behind him. “Get over here—we’ve got a lead!” 
“What is it?” you heard Lucy asking, her voice getting closer. 
Though you started to answer, you didn’t get the chance to finish as the door slammed shut on its own, separating you and Lockwood from the others. Your eyes widened as you whirled around. 
“Don’t panic,” Lockwood said immediately. You nodded shakily despite the blood pounding in your ears, and at your confirmation, he yelled out. “Luce? George? Are you alright?”
“We’re fine!” Lucy shouted, and there was the rattling of the doorknob. “Is it locked on your side?”
You moved forward and tried to turn the handle to test it, but a scream was ripped from your throat as you stumbled backwards. Your hands flew to your neck, splaying across the skin as you expected to feel blood, but there was nothing. The cold metal pressed against your skin, the sharp edge of the knife tore across it, but there was nothing. Centuries flashed behind your eyelids but there was nothing. 
Lucy and George called out your name, but you couldn’t respond, your eyes wide as dinner plates as your whole body shook.
“God, are you alright?” Lockwood caught your shoulders before you could run into him, and his hands stayed there when he realized how much you were trembling. When you turned to look at him, your hand still pressed against your neck to stop invisible bleeding, his eyes were filled with concern. “What did you see?”
“I… I—” You tried to voice it, but the words stuck in your throat as the tremors continued.
Lucy yelled your name again and there was a bang on the door, and Lockwood looked up. “She’s okay! She felt something when she touched the handle— Lucy, see what you can get on your side!”
“Got it!”
“It’s okay,” Lockwood said softly, his attention turning back to you. His hands on your shoulders grounded you, and he was a surprisingly welcome presence. “Whatever’s here, I won’t let it hurt you. You just have to tell me whatever it is you saw when you touched that doorknob.”
“I didn’t see anything,” you finally managed. “I— I heard them yelling, screaming, threatening to leave each other, and then—” You forced your breathing to still, but it hardly worked. 
“And then what?” His voice was still just as soft, and he didn’t move away from you or take his hands back. He just stood there, waiting for you. 
“And then he killed her, Lockwood,” you whispered, your hand falling to his wrist. “She threatened to leave him, and he slit her throat.” You still felt the blood dripping down your neck. You wanted to crawl out of your skin. 
He was alarmingly good at keeping his emotions in check, the only sign of his shock the slightest pause before he asked again. “Who?” 
“I— I don’t know,” you said. “I just— I felt it, and it’s the same presence I’ve been feeling for months.” 
“So it’s our ghost,” he said. “Obviously, but we just need to see if Lucy can…” 
His words phased through your ears as the air in front of you shimmered, blue light coalescing into the source of your endless tormentor. One image, one woman, one ghost, the face of someone you never thought was an option, and you could do nothing but stare. 
“Lockwood,” you croaked, and he turned around. Immediately, his expression hardened, and he said your name as he moved forward and in turn pushed you behind him. 
“Don’t make a sound,” he uttered as he slowly drew his rapier, and he handed the chains back to you. You took them as quietly as possible, and with his arm braced in front of you, he moved the two of you back a safe distance. “Do you recognize her?” 
You nodded, but you couldn’t speak. All you could do was stare up, wide-eyed at the ghost above you. You’d been expecting a monstrous apparition, a cruel face to put to the presence that had been haunting you all this time, but it wasn’t. It was familiar, and perhaps it was cruel all the same, because the ghost was—
“Now would be a good time to say it,” Lockwood said dryly. 
You nodded again, your voice barely a whisper. “I guess I was wrong.” Your throat bobbed. “Because that’s my grandmother.”  
“Ah,” Lockwood said placidly. “The ghost really is your grandmother. Lovely.” 
“I never knew,” you whispered. “I didn’t know she died here, that she was murdered—” 
“You’ve got to stay calm,” Lockwood interrupted. “You’re not going to be any help to me or yourself if you’re not calm.” 
You didn’t know how you were supposed to stay calm in the face of your murdered ghost of a grandmother, who looked far younger than she was supposed to because she was murdered— 
“Do you hear me?” he asked, his voice more assertive than before. “I need you to stay calm for me.” 
Your vocal chords decided to work this time, though just barely. “I— I’ll try my hardest.” 
“I’m sure you know this already,” he said wryly, “but don’t let her touch you.” 
And then, George’s voice rang out. 
“What the hell is going on in there?” he called, and the ghost lunged. 
Lockwood pushed you back all the while slashing his rapier at your grandmother, her screams filling your ears and penetrating your body to the bone. It stole the breath out of you, even as her body dissolved from the metal, and Lockwood latched onto your arm as he backed to the edge of the room with you. 
“We’ve got a Type 2 in here!” Lockwood yelled, his sword brandished and his arm still protectively in front of you as his eyes darted all over the room, breath held as he waited to see where she would appear next. “George, work on getting that lock open! Lucy, find the source!” 
“Do you have any idea what it is, or am I just on a wild goose chase?” Lucy asked frantically. 
“The latter,” you responded, and you heard her groan as she ran off. 
“I don’t know if a lockpick will even work,” George said, voice muffled through the wood. “Ghost powers don’t respond well to science.” 
“At least try,” Lockwood said. “I’d appreciate it knowing you’re on the case.” 
“As long as you try not to die,” he grumbled. 
“No promises.” 
You shook your head as shaky breaths rocked through you. “Your sense of humor is a bit morbid.” 
Lockwood winked, somehow smiling even now. “We’ve got to cope somehow.” 
You huffed a laugh, only slightly unhinged. “Sorry about this, by the way. I really didn’t know that it was my grandmother. Honest to God, I had no idea she died here.” 
“One of the less egregious problems we’ve had,” Lockwood said. His eyes sharpened as he looked across the room, and your grandmother’s ghost suddenly appeared again. 
His grip loosened on your arm as he pulled away, handling his rapier with the skill of someone twenty years his elder. You lashed out with your chains whenever she got too close, staying behind Lockwood every time he shifted or twisted or moved around the office, but in such a small space—all the while dealing with her screams and the constant dread just being near her filled you with—you were beginning to grow tired. 
“Do you have any idea what her source would be?” he asked. “Or— or where it would be?” 
“No!” you exclaimed. “I thought we’d just be dealing with some bloke that was killed a few decades ago, not my grandmother and her vicious murder that I knew nothing about!” 
“Try and think, then!” Lockwood thrust forward with his rapier, preventing the ghost from advancing on the two of you for a moment as he continued to move back. “I know that this is shocking, but we’ll have time to deal with that later. Right now, you have to focus! Use your talent!”
Your heart beat like a hammer, the blood pounding in your ears, and you nodded. “Keep her away from me.”
Before Lockwood could question anything, before you could second guess yourself, you lashed out with the chains and darted past your grandmother’s ghost. You latched onto the doorknob again as you screwed your eyes shut, and it hit you all at once.
You weren’t immediately dead, so you assumed Lockwood was doing his job. But centuries of memories flashed before your eyes, and you were living through years simultaneously. 
The first time your grandparents toured the house together, your grandfather closing the door behind him as he took a moment for himself. He knew then that was where he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. 
When they decided to buy the house and crossed the threshold for the first time, him carrying your grandmother all the way up the stairs and to their bedroom, her falling onto the bed with a delighted squeal. 
Your father was born, and your grandfather’s hand slipped off the doorknob as he carried his newborn baby into the room, cooing and rocking him while he walked over and sat on the side of his bed. 
He lost his job, closing the door with a hand running down his face as he slammed his fist into the wall. The wallpaper dented beneath his knuckles, but he didn’t even notice. 
Your grandmother carefully closing the door behind her, padding over to the desk, opening the drawer and finding letters. Undistilled shock and barely bridled anger, the stench of betrayal. 
An awful argument, the worst yet. Screaming so loud it rocked the walls of the room, insults and threats and accusations flying through the air without a second thought. She went to leave, put her hand on the doorknob, but he went mad with rage. He slashed her throat from behind before he can even think, and your grandmother died with her hand still on the handle before she collapsed.
The doorknob, and—
“Her brooch,” you muttered, and your eyes widened as you slammed your hand against the door. “George, the brooch! Tell Lucy to get the brooch!”
“What brooch?” he yelled back. 
“My grandmother’s brooch!” you shouted. “My grandfather gave it to her as an anniversary gift. It’s emerald, Georgian cut! You’ll know when you see it— the vanity in the master bedroom on the first floor! You don’t have time to get her, just go!”
His footsteps ran off, but you didn’t even get a moment to relax as you felt that awful presence again. 
You whirled around and your breath caught in your chest, frozen stiff as you stared back at the face of your grandmother. 
It wasn’t that cruel, demented thing you’d seen when she attacked at first. This was just… her. Beautiful and fair-faced, late thirties having no effect on her. The eyes of your father, elegantly braided hair. You recognized the style of her dress, one that had been passed down to you. 
She looked like… like you’d imagined yourself in a decade or two. 
God, she was so young. Young and in love and betrayed. 
The world grew dimmer, your surroundings taking on a crystalline sheen. Everything was cold and your muscles were made of lead. You heard distant shouts, but it didn’t matter. 
Nothing mattered. 
You were so tired.
And then it all shattered. You crumpled to your knees, an overwhelming stabbing in your head as your breath came back to you in haggard waves.
Lockwood was over you, his rapier forgotten on the ground, and he shook your shoulders as he said your name over and over.
“…Lockwood?” you managed, your eyes barely open as you looked up at him. 
His smile was one of pure relief as he nodded, and though he stopped shaking, his hands still remained on your shoulders. “Yeah. You’re alright.”
“What happened?” you murmured. 
“You were ghost-locked,” he said breathlessly. “I tried to fend her off, but she was only focused on you. George must’ve gotten to the source right before she could get you.” He smiled sheepishly, but there was clear-cut fear behind those eyes. “Sorry about that.”
“I nearly died,” you said. The words tasted like plastic on your tongue, unusual and stiff. 
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t have let that happen.”
Lockwood went to say more, but the door busted open suddenly, drawing the attention of both of you.
George and Lucy were both completely out of breath when they barged in. Lucy’s rapier was drawn and George held your grandmother’s brooch in his hand, wrapped ten times over in a metal net.
“Are you all okay?” Lucy asked, her eyes wide as yours. “I could hear her all the way downstairs, and—” 
“We’re alright,” you interrupted, and you looked at Lockwood. He got the hint, and he helped you up from the ground. The energy had been completely drained from you after being ghost-locked, so he kept his arm around you. 
“Looks like you were right,” George said, holding the brooch up. “Half-right, the ghost being your grandmother and all, but you’re right where it matters.” 
“Pretty good time to be right,” you said shakily. 
“Last minute save.” Lockwood laughed breathlessly. “You fit right in here.”
-
Lockwood helped you downstairs, and he insisted on making tea for you while you sat at the table with George and Lucy explaining what had happened. 
Your grandparents were happy, you hadn’t been wrong, but one too many things went wrong beneath the surface. They got married young, but he never felt like he was good enough for her despite her reassurances. He lost his job a week before your father was born, and with the stress, the finances, the jealousy— it all built up. Your grandfather snapped, so your grandmother did as well. 
“...and he killed her,” you finished quietly. “She found out he was cheating on her, they had this huge argument and she actually meant to follow through on her threats of leaving him.” You swallowed around the lump in your throat. “It turns out she never got the chance, and my grandfather’s been lying to us and the world ever since.” 
“I’m so sorry,” Lucy murmured, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now.” 
You nodded thankfully, and you smiled up at Lockwood as he placed a fresh cup of tea in front of you. It warmed your bones when you took a sip, and you already felt your strength coming back from the ordeal. 
“You all might get some calls from the police,” you said. “I’m going to call my father tonight and tell him everything, and then we’re going straight to the authorities.” 
“We’ll back you up if we get any,” Lockwood assured. “We’ll tell them everything you told us.”  
Lucy and George nodded. “I got some visions of my own that corroborate your story,” she said, “so don’t worry about proof.” 
George held up your grandmother’s brooch, still wrapped in the net. “I’ll hold onto this if they need it for evidence. Soon as it’s done, we’ll take it straight to the furnaces.” 
You nodded gratefully, and after another sip of tea, you stood up. Your legs didn’t shake, so you took another step and looked back at them. “Come on. I’ll walk you all out.” 
After the three of them gathered their things, you followed them to the door, and your smile was the most genuine it had been since this all started. 
“I can’t thank you all enough,” you said. “Lucy, George, Lockwood—you’ve put an end to my misery, you’ve finally put my grandmother to rest, and you’ve helped bring a murderer to justice.” Your shoulders felt a whole lot lighter as you handed the envelope to Lockwood. “I’m forever in your debt.”
“I wouldn’t say forever in our debt,” George said. “You’ve just paid that off.” 
You cracked a smile as Lockwood swatted him with the envelope, then he looked back at you with the same charm as always.
“We were happy to help. And we appreciated yours as well.” Lockwood dug into his pocket and pulled something out, pressing it into your hand. He lingered for just a moment too long before he pulled away and cleared his throat. 
“Your business card,” you realized as you brought it up closer. “What for?”
“You’re Talented,” Lockwood said, “obviously. Even though you haven’t honed it at all, you’ve still got some pretty impressive raw ability. If you ever find you want to put it to use, learn the ropes of being an agent… give us a call.” He smiled. “Lockwood & Co would be happy to have you.”
You looked over at Lucy, almost as if you wanted her approval. She gave you that faint smile. “You’re good when you’re confident, Holloway. And it would be nice to have another girl.”
George, next. He shrugged. 
“You held your own,” he said, “mostly. I wouldn’t be opposed to it if you got some training. We can’t expand our agency for just anyone.”
“And you already know what I think,” Lockwood said with that same smile. 
You couldn’t help a slight one of your own, and you looked at the business card again before shoving it into your pocket. “I’ll think about it.”
Lockwood nodded. “35 Portland Row. Remember it.”
“I don’t think I could forget,” you said with a soft laugh.
His lips twitched into a smile. “Good.”
Lockwood nodded at you one last time, something passing between you for just a moment before he turned around and his crew followed him. You watched the three of them get into the taxi and drive off before you closed the door, allowing yourself a deep, deep sigh. 
And despite all the chaos that had just occurred, despite the life-changing revelation that was brought forth, despite your near-death experience and the shift to your axis and the tainting of your family tree, as you walked back inside and picked up the phone to dial your father…
You felt more at peace than you had in a long, long time. 
You took the business card out of your pocket, staring at it as you waited for the number to connect. 
…Maybe, you thought wryly.
Just maybe. 
-
perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77 @simonsbluee @kwyloz @masteroperator @louderfortheback 
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estrellami-1 · 6 months
Text
If I Should Stay
More housekeeping! I was wrong about the date last time. My hiatus isn’t starting on the 15th; it’s starting on the 13th, possibly a bit earlier. But I’ll see y’all a little less than a month after that!
Part 1 | . . . | Part 38 | Part 39 | Part 40
“Vecna’s got my sister,” Steve whispers into the line, and Robin knows immediately that this time, this next fight with Vecna, is going to be very different.
She’s not going to let two of his atoms touch after what he’s done.
“Okay,” she answers, mind going a million miles an hour. “We know how to fix this, Steve, but you need to focus. Can you focus?”
He takes a deep breath. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Yeah, I can focus.”
“Okay. We need her favorite song.”
“I don’t know her favorite song.”
“Then you need to find someone who does.”
The line is silent for a minute, then Steve gasps. “Cassidy! She’d know.”
“Okay, that’s perfect. Call Cassidy, ask her what Allison’s favorite song is. I’m going to pick up El and we’ll be there as soon as we can, okay?”
“Okay,” Steve says. “Hurry?”
“As fast as I can,” she promises. “Call Cassidy.”
They hang up, and Robin eyes Wayne, who’s already waiting by the door with his truck keys. “I’m gathering this is an emergency.”
“If it wouldn’t be entirely weird, I would kiss you,” Robin informs him, because she barely has a filter at the best of times, and this is definitely not the best of times.
Thankfully, Wayne just laughs. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he says. “Toss your bike in the back and get in. I’ll need directions.”
Robin worries her lip. “Y’know the Wheelers’ place?”
“Karen?”
“Yeah. There first, please.”
Wayne offers her a teasing salute as he puts the car into drive, and Robin suddenly thinks this all might just work out.
The drive to the Wheelers’ is uneventful, and she hops out of the truck and pounds on the door. Karen opens it, and Robin grits her teeth. “Hi, Mrs. Wheeler,” she says politely. “Is Nancy home?”
“Oh, yes, of course, come in,” she says, ushering her inside before calling for Nancy.
Robin watches as Nancy makes it halfway downstairs before she sees who’s here. She watches as she goes through all the possibilities. “Hey, Robin, you’re here for the project, right?”
“Yup,” Robin nods. “For, uh. School.”
Nancy blinks. “Right,” she says, casting a glance at her mom, who doesn’t notice. “C’mon up.”
Robin hesitates. “Think we could use the basement?”
Nancy’s eyes flash. “Sure,” she says, and they’re halfway down before she speaks again. “What’s going on?”
“Vecna has Allison. We need El.”
Nancy bites back a curse.
They finally make it down, and El is standing in the middle of the room, waiting for them. “It is time.”
“It is,” Robin nods. “Are you ready?”
Eleven shrugs. “Is anyone?”
Robin gives half a laugh. “I guess not.” She turns to Nancy. “Is there an exit that doesn’t go through the house?”
Nancy nods and leads them out. “I’ll get everyone else,” she says. “Meet you back there as soon as we can. Be safe.”
“You too,” Robin says, grabbing El’s hand and running for Wayne’s truck.
“Where to?” Wayne asks.
“The Harrington place. Will you come inside?”
“All due respect, Robin, but my boy’s in there. There ain’t no way in hell I’m leavin’ him alone.” There’s a slight pause before he says, rather uncomfortably, “Not because I don’t trust you, of course-”
“No, of course not,” Robin waves him off.
“And, uh.” He winks at El. “You’ll have to pardon my French, little lady.”
She giggles at him. “But you weren’t speaking any French!”
Wayne chuckles. “No I wasn’t, and a smart one you are for knowin’ that. No, pardon my French just means excuse my potty mouth.”
El turns to Robin, who says, deadpan, “He means ‘cause he said hell.”
“Oh,” El says, as Wayne splutters but ultimately stays quiet.
Soon enough they’re at the Harrington place, and Wayne barely parks the truck before they’re all running in.
Robin stops him just before they get inside. “Did Eddie explain any of this to you?”
Wayne blinks at her. “No.”
“Shit,” she whispers. “Okay, look, long story short, which I’m kinda really terrible at, like worst person ever, like I can’t tell a short story to save my life-”
“Robin.”
“Right, short story, right. Um, we’ll explain more later, but basically me and Steve are time traveling here from four years in the future because there’s a wizard guy- well he’s not a wizard, actually, it’s Henry Creel, but anyways things happen and he’s got powers and he’s like a wizard and he’s trying to get control of peoples’ heads and kill them. And he’s trying it with Steve’s sister, Allison, right now. So… that’s what we’re about to walk into.”
Wayne sighs. “Is there anythin’ for me to shoot at?”
Robin blinks. “Well, no. Not right now, at least. But later there could be. If you want to be involved.”
“I ain’t lettin’ y’all do this while I sit by and do nothin’. That ain’t how I was raised.”
Robin stares at him for a beat, nods, and together they run inside.
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