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sunschay · 1 month ago

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An Unwanted Guest || Natasha Romanoff x Male Reader

You return home after two years serving in the American army, having been forced by your father to enlist. But you didn't expect to have another stepmother in such a short space of time.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: Inappropriate language, swearing, sexual tension, age gap (Reader is 21, Nat is 42, she's a milf ugh), Bruce is a terrible and disrespectful husband. *

Also, this is not fully proofread yet, so it may contain some minor spelling errors.*

Word count: 10k

You wake up to the sound of banging pots and pans and a loud bell ringing in the back of the dormitory. It must be about five in the morning, but that's the time everyone here is obliged to wake up anyway, as early as possible. Sleep isn't important, but your work and your duties? Without a shadow of a doubt. You hear the recruits getting up from their bunks and putting on their uniforms, berets, boots and belts before retiring to the mess hall. You get dressed as well, brush your teeth and splash cold water on your face and almost jump with fright when you turn around and see a man standing in front of you.

“Private Banner. There's new mail for you at the post office outside the base.” Sam Wilson says, almost like a robot, the dark circles around his eyes giving away his bad sleep during the night.

“Thanks, Wilson.” You press your lips together and nod, retreating to the cafeteria.

It's an ordinary cafeteria, at least 30 to 40 square meters, with 25 tables and chairs scattered around. The canteen is a rather small kitchen that houses large pots and pans, two built-in stoves with four burners each and a huge fridge taking up almost half the space. The soldiers form a queue with trays everywhere to eat.

“Combatant Banner, how's your day going? There are three letters and correspondence from Mr. Banner waiting for you.” Your most familiar and talkative friend, Steven Rogers, greets you with the same smile as every day.

“Hey mate! Thanks for that, really. How's your day going?” You reply and give him a brief hug. “Good so far, no women around unfortunately.”

Steve is a good man, he's also an excellent and extremely competent soldier, unfortunately life (in this case, the top lieutenants) has placed him as a letter carrier indefinitely supposedly because Rogers doesn't reach the level of skill and strength as other recruits. But he's still a nice guy with his straight-edged blond hair, his friendly smile, his blue eyes and his pumped-up muscles.

“Thanks for this, Steve. I bet my old man is just asking me how things are going. He should know by now that I'm coming home tomorrow.” You snort and pick up the thick envelopes, seeing that the other letters are from your 13-year-old brother, Derek.

It was probably one of his drawings that he's always sent you since you joined the army.

“I hear you've got a new hot stepmother- I say, I hear you've got a new stepmother, comrade. You know, Derek tells me everything. I love that kid.” He gives you a nervous wink and you choke on air.

“Stepmother!? Wait, bloody hell! That's the fourth woman my old man's taken in two whole years.” You shake your head in disbelief.

“Come on, Y/n. He's single and still a bit young, a man should celebrate his freedom as he sees fit. But sometimes, with a new woman comes new problems.” Steve laughs lightly, finding your nervous expression amusing.

“The thing is, he's been having fun with several women for a long time, Steve, and he always gets into trouble with all of them because he doesn't know how to deal with break-ups. I bet she's a bitter old woman with a bunch of kids. Thanks, man, I'll have to accept another little woman wanting to boss me around anyway. See you in the cafeteria.” You roll your eyes and say goodbye to Steve with a high five.

After picking up the tray, you sit down and start opening the cards, barely touching the food in front of you. As soon as you finish opening the first letter, a long sigh leaves your lips before you start reading.

"Hey, my firstborn, how are things going over there? If I remember correctly, you're just finishing your service and will be going home soon. Derek misses you, I helped him send you his many drawings of dinosaurs and of you painted next to him in a soldier's uniform. He can't stop talking about you. I've also heard that you're as strong as a big Nutcracker doll. That's my boy. On the other hand, I imagine that Rogers has already told you everything. Son, yes, I'm in a relationship with another woman. Natasha is the most incredible and fascinating woman I've ever seen, and it's the best thing that could have happened in my life, I think you'll like her. We can't wait to see you, firstborn, come home soon."

Running your hands through your hair, you let out a heavy, tired sigh, taking a few bites of the not-so-juicy apple on the tray and looking at the mashed potatoes mixed into a soup with a strange texture. The food isn't always the best, but there's nothing to complain about, at least you have something to eat.

“I told you, new stepmother, new problems.” Rogers giggles as he enters the cafeteria and then laughs when he sees your frown.

“At least I hope this one doesn't try to burn our house down.” You say with a frustrated half-smile, eating with some effort.

“Relax, she must be a good woman.” Steve places the tray on the table, looking away for a moment.

You continue eating and frown when you see that he's practically drooling, staring in the opposite direction. Your head turns slowly and you see Second Lieutenant Stark and Agent Carter enter the cafeteria, walking together as they talk. She's pretty, with short brown hair, light eyes, a light button on her lips and a military uniform, wearing high boots. Agent Carter is actually the first General of the United States Women's Army, so basically, she's a well-known woman around here and sometimes makes a visit to the men's military base to do "research", evaluations and things like that.

“I'm going to have to get a bigger bucket if you keep drooling over her like this.” You smile, feeling Steve throw a stuffed potato at you.

“Ew, I wasn't even looking like that. Mind your own business.” He scolds you, fiddling awkwardly with his food.

“Oh, the one who spoke is no longer here.” You laugh and finish eating, getting up when the lieutenant calls you to run around the courtyard.

This time, you wake up before the bell rings and the noisy pots start banging to wake up the rest of the soldiers. Today is "vacation" day, if you can call it that. You're coming home after two years away. Finally. You'll be able to sleep when you want, when you want, drink, do all the rebellious shit you share with Steve. As you enter the bathroom, you pick up a razor and fit a new blade into the razor, washing your face with warm water and spreading shaving foam over your face as you shave. After removing the loose hairs from your face, you wash it thoroughly and face the new pencil moustache covering your skin, all the rest of your skin shaved and clean.

“It's not so bad.” You whisper, running your fingers over the moustache.

As soon as you've finished the rest of your hygiene, you pick up your farewell uniform, putting on your camouflage collarless shirt, pants and boots. You run your fingers through your black hair and comb it gently until it's neatly aligned, then you put your beret on your head. When you return, the dormitories are already empty and the commanders take the rest of the conscript soldiers outside to catch the bus home. You wouldn't take a bus home if Bruce came to pick you up, but with a brainless father like him, it wasn't good to risk being late. You stand in the queue and immediately feel someone tugging your ears back slightly, turning to see Steve right behind you.

“Hey, buddy, you look like you've just stepped off a modeling cover. If I were a woman, I'd be wet just looking at that moustache.” Rogers jokes and you roll your eyes, joining in.

“Yeah, and you look like a nomad with that much beard, the girls will love that.” You put your hands behind your back and he sighs. “I wish.”

“Private Y/n Chase Banner, 21 years old, British, sergeant correspondent. You may board.” The man hands back your papers.

“Sometimes I forget you're British. It's a bit ironic, you don't even like a cup of tea.” Steve says, straining his accent and making you laugh. “Why tea when we have whisky and beer in America?”

Steve laughs and takes the documents out of his pocket, handing them to the driver. Quickly all the soldiers board and you press your head against the hard seat, looking out of the window as the base slowly moves away and the bus accelerates. You hear Steve chattering non-stop next to you about Agent Carter, saying how divine and beautiful she was, and saying how much he wished he had a chance with her. The trip from Kentucky to Washington DC would take at least 8 hours and something more, it was still early in the morning and you'd be arriving in the afternoon or even evening, so you just answered Steve with nods and brief 'um, yeahs' as you drifted off to sleep.

“Hey, buddy, this isn't bedtime! Wake up!” Steve shook you, making you jump in your seat slightly.

Your fingers rubbed your eyes and you shook your head, gradually adjusting your vision. Outside, the sun was beginning to set, delivering a warm and muggy evening, the clouds gradually disappearing as the larger group of soldiers began to get off the bus at the Washington terminal. Steve laughed as he commented on your sleepy face and you grabbed your backpack, following him off the bus. It was clear that Bruce hadn't made any effort to come and see you in Kentucky, so it annoyed and irritated you at the same time, but there was no point in wasting time with your grumpy old dad.

“You're coming to dinner with me. That's not a request.” She joked with him as they started walking together.

Your house wasn't three blocks away, it wasn't that far, so it would be nice to walk.

“If it's to meet your hot stepmother, I'm always up for it.” He said and you punched him in the bicep.

“How do you know she's hot and not some old lady with a herniated disc who's obsessed with plants?” You opened a packet of mints, handing him another.

“Derek told me she's not old. And I know Mr. Banner doesn't date old ladies. Come on, Y/n, it's only been three times.” He replies, making you let out a laugh.

“Three times describes my father's character very well, Steve. Well, let's face it, there are a lot of hot old ladies out there.” You blink, feeling his critical gaze on your back.

“You're a fucking pervert. I didn't know you liked old ladies, man.” He laughs, pushing you slightly.

“I didn't say I liked old women! I'm just saying that there are some older women, in their forties and fifties, who are hot, depending on the individual. There was a friend of my father's, I think her name was Wanda, something like that, and she was in her late thirties or early forties. She looked like she was in her twenties, I swear to you, she was crazy as hell! Of course, not all women get to that age looking good, it's a question of grooming and vanity, you know.” You explained, kicking a few stones along the way.

“To me, that's like saying: 'I'm definitely into fucking an older woman's brains out', there's no limit to that, bro, you're an adult and single.” He winks and you laugh out loud. “Wait, why do I feel like something happened between you and this Wanda?”

“She gave me head in the bathroom at her nephew's birthday party. If that answers your question.” You smile mischievously and Steve shakes you like he's made a great discovery. “I knew it, you tricksome pervert! If she really is that hot, then I understand you.”

“You say that as if Carter wasn't a little older than you." Your eyes narrow and he shrugs.

“That's another matter, Banner.” He smiles smugly.

As soon as the two of you arrive, you stop to look around the house. It looks the same, but at the same time it looks like a different house. As if you didn't belong here. The house is still surrounded by orchids and tulips that you planted years ago in memory of your mother, something you did every year to remember well what she liked to do when she was alive. The house had worn-out paintwork, ajar windows and a tall lawn, which made you wonder if Bruce was so useless as not to mow a simple garden lawn. You walked up to the front door and knocked lightly against it, hearing some loud voices talking from inside.

“Just a minute!” A female voice shouted from inside and you slowly turned to face Steve, who had a small smile on his lips. “Time to meet Mom, Banner.”

You rolled your eyes deeply and tried to ignore him, scratching your moustache nervously as footsteps approached the door.

When the door opened, the first thing that came into your mind was that Steve was probably right. She wasn't old at all. Or she was Bruce's own age and she was fucking well preserved, which you thought, fuck, that's got to be it. The vision lit up before you, with a redhead opening the door of your own house with sweet wavy red hair down to her shoulders, big curious green eyes analyzing you as if she already knew who you were before you even said a word, her face as delicate as pieces of porcelain, her nose turned up and the most beautiful lips you could find. She was much shorter than you and than Steve, which meant that you had to look up to meet your eyes and that you had to move your head down to see her.

A black dress falls over her body with delicacy and a deafening elegance. There are a few buttons from the opening, which shows a little of her pale neck, to the middle of her waist, which has a belt around it. It's a simple garment. But it doesn't exude any kind of vulgarity, although this woman... she exudes lust through her eyes. She has slight expression marks under her eyes, almost imperceptible, but which give away the fact that she is much older than you. And she hasn't even said a word to you. A pearly necklace is around that elegant slender neck and you hold your breath, locking your jaw before you speak.

“May I ask who you are?” Your whisper is precise and firm, and you can see out of the corner of your eye that her cheeks are flushing.

“Natasha. Natasha Romanoff. You must be Y/n. I'm your father's wife.” She answers you just as firmly, although her nervousness shows through a little and Steve's eyes widen behind you.

You would never have thought that your father would get married so quickly, even if it was his way of getting into bed with any woman for one night and then telling you that he was in a relationship with her. But he had married her! That was too much.

“It's me, yes.” That's the only answer that came out of his mouth and Natasha seemed to swallow with some bewilderment.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Romanoff. I'm Y/n's friend, Steve Rogers. I hope you don't mind my presence, it may have been a little unexpected.” Steve greets her with a light handshake.

“It would never be a bother to receive you, please, the house is more yours than mine.” She smiles and turns to you.

Without a word, you lean in as Steve pulls away from her hand. Her nails are painted a bright red, which contrasts with her red hair. Your hand brushes against hers, which makes Natasha almost gasp and electricity runs through her body when your hand gently squeezes hers. Without further words or affirmations, this is much more than Natasha would have expected to feel. You raise your head and she quickly moves to the side, making room for you and Steve to enter.

You won't admit it, but you're fascinated by Natasha's beauty. You also know now that you were wrong to think that she was older than Bruce, he only went out a few times with some noble ladies full of money with arrogance stamped on their faces.

“Y/n!” A weak, childish voice shouts at you, and you laugh as you feel little arms go around your legs. “Hey, big boy.”

You greet Derek, feeling him cling to your neck and hug you tightly, as if he hasn't seen you for decades. Well, he hadn't seen you in almost three years, so it made perfect sense.

“Doesn't anyone miss me?” Steve mocked. “Stevie!”

You laugh and let them talk, quickly answering a few of Derek's questions before seeing Bruce off down the stairs. He's got his black hair tangled and all out of order, his glasses are crooked on his face and he's wearing a white coat, with a scruffy beard. He looks a mess, with dark circles under his eyes and a breath of something like campari. You look him up and down with judgment and press your hand on the strap of your backpack.

“Hey, big boy.” He approaches you and gives you a firm hug.

“Hey, old man. I thought you'd see me at the Fort.” You say, frowning with annoyance masked as irritation.

“Well, you're already a big man, Y/n. Not to mention I was looking after your brother, he needs to brush his teeth and do his homework.” He says, turning away and fixing his glasses.

“Of course, you're always worried about my brother stinking of pure alcohol.” You say firmly, your jaw locking with some force.

“Is that any way to talk to me, kid?” He looks at you, slowly approaching as Natasha comes back into the room.

“Oh, I believe you're both hungry. I'm making an apple pie before dinner, love, can you help me?” She grasps Bruce's shoulders, who turns away from you. “Of course, darling.”

Your eyes roll back and Natasha gives you a look as if she's analyzing you. It's a fact that, although much older, Bruce is shorter than you, and his bone structure is even smaller, as if you were the older one here. You cross your arms earnestly, feeling the tension start in your broad shoulders and work its way down your burly biceps. Yes, you really have become an even bigger man than your father and Natasha seems to be looking at this before turning her face away and entering the kitchen.

“Hey, man. Relax, let's just enjoy the night.” Steve grabs your arm, visibly tense, and pulls you over to the sofa.

You sit down with him, try to relax but it's almost unavoidable. Bruce Banner has always been the kind of guy who is a compulsive alcoholic. He goes to support groups every weekend to try to get some support from other people who suffer from the same problem, but he keeps drinking as if he depended on it. He wasn't exactly a friendly father to you, it's as if he was always there but absent. He didn't teach you how to shave, so you learned on your own – with support from Steve who has a great dad – he didn't teach you how to pick up girls or how to flirt or how to drive, let alone how to listen when you had any doubts. He's like a ghost who breathes, eats and sleeps. But he's never really there for his children.

That's probably why your mother divorced him in your teens before that accident. Bruce is a difficult person to deal with, something you clearly took from him, but you're completely different. You're a good man, you're there for Derek, you're good with children, you're civilized, patient – when you want to be – and you're everything your father would like you to be.

“Look, I drew a picture of my school friends, Uncle Stevie and Y/n/n!” He says, handing you a drawing.

In it, Derek is drawn wearing the same blue sweatpants and plaid shirt at the actual moment. His hair is messy and slightly disheveled, his round glasses are crooked and you straighten them on his pale face, seeing that there is a blond boy next to him and a girl in a pink dress with long red hair.

“Who's that, little guy?” You ask as you stroke his hair.

“That's my friend, Emily!” He says between jumps and Steve looks at you with a smile. “Friend, huh?”

“Do you fancy her, mate? It's okay to talk to us, it's boy talk here, we won't judge you.” You ask and then smile, listening to Steve chatter something. “Fancy? Is that any way to say you're into a girl? You Brits are funny.”

“Give it a rest, Steve, it's noble English. You can talk to me, mate." You stroke Derek's hair and he laughs nervously.

“I think so... Dad says that when you like a girl a lot, you start admiring her, praising all her tastes, her hair, her expressions and everything about her, I see Emily like that. But I'm afraid she likes another boy.” He closes his expression into a sad little beak and you lift him onto your lap.

“Listen, you're a young boy. You're handsome, you've got nice hair like the bloke here.” You look at Steve who starts bragging and you interrupt him. “Maybe Emily is your first love, but you're still very young, you've got a lot to live up to. You've got to finish school, get a good job, make new friends, find a hobby, something you enjoy doing. Life isn't just about girls or love, it's about you and how you want to live it. And if Emily ever lets you down with another bloke, send her home to the grumpy toad.”

“What's the Grumpy Toad's house?” Steve blinks in confusion and you lean in to whisper. “A polite way of telling someone to fuck off. He can't swear because he's still a polite little boy.”

“You're unpredictable.” Steve laughs, disbelieving what he's heard.

The conversation between the two of you continues between laughter and irresponsible advice from Steve, who makes you laugh every second at the absurdities he tells you about past relationships, and from Derek, who starts showing you a folder full of his drawings. Lovely doodles. Natasha enters the room after a while, pressed between the doorway and shyly clears her throat.

“Hi guys, I don't mean to interrupt, but dinner's ready.” She says and you stand up, ruffling Derek's hair. “Go brush your teeth, kid. Girls don't like guys with breath.”

Derek mumbles something but climbs the stairs to the bathroom, determined to follow any of your advice, because you're the oldest and he sees tremendous wisdom in you. When you enter the kitchen, you sit down and Steve sits right next to you at the square table, and Bruce is there, scribbling something down. Always working, never with time for his children. Or too drunk to care.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” He says, and barely blinks as Natasha places a plate of food in front of him.

“No problem, my love.” She says and her gaze settles on Natasha, who moves gracefully.

Is it wrong to be completely attracted to an older, more experienced woman who is unfortunately your new stepmother? Most likely, but you can't help it. Everything about Natasha is too sexy. Her light-lipped smile, her curves, which even covered by that very covered dress, manage to be somewhat naked. Her legs, the way her knees bend to grab something from the tallest cupboards in the kitchen. You can imagine the way her knees can bend in front of you... and fuck. Stop it, you tell yourself.

“How was your time serving, Y/n?” She asks you, and seems to be talking, or trying to.

“Same as always.” Your answer comes, it's short, but not rude, just disinterested.

The best thing is to look like you're disinterested in her. Not out of rudeness or rebelliousness. But because you feel the adrenaline in your veins that tells you it's dangerous to be so enamored of your stepmother, knowing that this is also something immoral and incorrect. You don't want to lose control.

“Men giving orders. Proud men doing what they want to do. Discipline masquerading as arrogance.” You prolong your answer, and you don't expect Natasha to understand, after all she is a woman and has never been in need of serving her country.

Natasha, on the other hand, is struggling to stay focused on getting more plates and cutlery to distribute to you and Steve during dinner. She's fascinated. Shocked. Silently drawn to you. The difference between you and Bruce is glaring. While he seems sloppy and uncivilized, you speak so calmly and politely that you don't even sound like his son. You're both very similar in appearance, hair, face, expressions, eyes a little, but the difference in size from your father to you is absurd. You're like a wall of muscle compared to him, who clearly makes sense as a fatally alcoholic and careless man.

She rubs her thighs discreetly as she places a plate in front of you and fork and knife on either side of the embroidered plate, hoping you haven't noticed her indecent act, but you're even watching the way her throat moves when she breathes. She feels impure, filthy. She shouldn't look at her husband's son as prey, as if she had never seen such a beautiful and majestic man, a man who, as soon as he entered the house for the first time, left her breathless.

No, you were younger. Perhaps more naive, too young. And you were her husband's son. Her stepson.

“If I may ask, does that make you uncomfortable? Taking orders?” She asks, placing her plate and cutlery in front of Steve.

You lick your lips slowly. Natasha stares at you. She likes that. An act so simple and ordinary that it made her almost drool all over that table. She was a depraved and incorrect woman at that moment. Natasha loses herself in you at that moment. The intense green gaze flees from your calm lips to your drawn jaw, sculpted beyond her comprehension. Your eyes are wild yet calm, they exude...a hard life. A life full of challenges. They're dominant and Natasha doesn't like the way they intimidate her without you even realizing it. But that's you, a mystery to her, silent and solid. A black ocean with no comprehensible answers.

“I only do what I'm asked. It's my job.” Her whisper comes, quiet, yet icy.

“A man who works without complaining becomes a good worker. I think that's what I taught you.” Bruce speaks for the first time, taking a bite of his food.

In front of you, the smell of food fills your stomach and you barely notice Natasha serving you as you are busy facing even the worst fears of her soul. Your hands move nimbly and you cut off a piece of meat, putting it in your mouth and chewing slowly. It takes her a few seconds to realize it's a stew and the salty broth with potatoes, carrots and peas melts in her mouth perfectly.

“First of all, you cook perfectly well, that's great, Natasha.” You say as she sits down to eat and you see her pale cheeks develop a slight blush. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

No one had talked about her food in a long time, not even your father.

“Secondly,” You take a few more mouthfuls, managing to eat half the stew in minutes, and then look at Banner with a certain disgust. “Is that why you sent me to the army? To teach me your own kind of passivity?”

“You seem to like offending me sometimes, kid.” He laughs dryly, helping Derek to sit down and assemble his plate. “What's wrong with being passive?”

“Nothing, nothing wrong with it. Except that whenever someone confronts you, all you know how to do is roll over and show your belly like a puppy.” You cluck your tongue, listening to Bruce grumble.

“I think we'd better calm down a bit here-” Steve begins, still starting to eat when you cut him off. “No, I won't calm down.”

“I sent you to the army to control your rebelliousness and lack of control!” Bruce replies, starting to get upset.

“My rebelliousness? Don't fuck with me, Bruce.” You spat, completely disbelieving that you had heard such a thing.

“You've always acted in a problematic way, breaking laws, coming home late without giving explanations, disrespecting your own father! What did you want me to do? Shake your hair and tell you how to act, as if you were actually going to listen to me?” He shouted back, pointing a finger at you.

“You never cared about me yourself. You send me to the army to control me by saying I'm a rebel and all that shit and now you treat me like some fucking bum you don't even know. You sit on your ass here all the time, you only go out to work or to drink like you always have, you think you're an example of something?” Your hand hits the table and Steve gets up next to you, trying to stop anything worse from happening.

“You shut up when I talk to you, kid!” He growls and Natasha grabs him by the shoulders. “Bruce, please, let's put this aside. Derek's here, sweetheart.”

“Enough, please, let's calm down, man.” Steve puts his hand on your arm, suddenly getting serious.

Your chest is rising and falling through the camouflage uniform, hitting your ribcage with some violence. Natasha is frightened, even though she tries not to show it, it's quite transparent. She's heard Bruce's stories about you, that you had the same explosive temper as him even though you were different, that as a teenager you got into fights frantically and that you were suspended from school for 'vandalizing' the bathroom walls and things like that. Most of that was true, but the only friend you had was Steve, you were both often chased by the good-looking guys and bullies for being "skinny and weird" and ended up being extremely excluded and beaten up at the time. As if the confusion came to you both on purpose.

In any case, Natasha didn't know you and became involved with Bruce shortly after you officially joined the army, where you were promoted to the rank of Private E-2 a year later. Although Bruce was her husband, he generally behaved unpleasantly some of the time, especially when he got drunk in front of Natasha, which also discouraged Derek and made him sad, wishing he had more time with his father. She wanted to get to know you better, she felt that you had a good heart and she didn't really want to believe all the absurd stories that Bruce told her as if he wanted to make you a bad son for his wife.

“I wish I didn't have to look at your face.” Your answer came, harsh, indifferent.

Bruce didn't move, however, as if it hadn't hit him. He really didn't care about you at all. You felt an extreme pang of guilt when you saw Derek at the end of the table, hunched over with his hands on his head. He hated arguing and shouting, and it often happened between you and Bruce, but you avoided fighting in front of the boy as much as possible to prevent that kind of thing from happening to him there.

“All right, darling, come here.” She called to him, hugging him and trying to calm him down.

The rest of dinner was a terrible, deathly silence that pressed down on her throat, absolutely wanting to break Bruce in half. But you wouldn't, you already felt bad enough for scaring your little brother. When you'd finished eating, feeling Steve stare at you in fear of another fight breaking out, you got up and put your cutlery and plate in the sink, emptying a glass full of orange juice that you'd barely touched minutes before.

“Oh, Y/n, you don't have to do that, I could really do it-” Natasha intervenes, but you respond subtly. “It's okay, I don't mind.”

She stops in place, her lips parted in shock. It was rare for a real man to be there to do something as simple and minimal as washing dishes without her having to ask. Because for that very reason, Bruce wouldn't do it on the grounds that 'he worked too much' and Natasha had to take care of the cleaning and everything else in the house on her own. But it weighed on her, she felt alone there, even if it seemed silly. Bruce Banner described himself as an old-fashioned man, but something about him pointed more towards a misogyny hidden under the carpet. You really were different from the man she married.

“Oh, all right.” She sighs, the corner of her lips curving slowly.

Putting a little detergent on the yellow sponge, you subtly scrub the plate and then the cutlery and glass. You turn on the tap and wash everything silently, watching a few bubbles of foam disappear down the drain and everything become clean, then you take a dry cloth and dry everything, placing it inside the cupboard in the proper places for each object. You knew how to do everything apart from washing dishes. Washing your father's rusty car, cleaning the whole house, absolutely everything that would be considered 'women's chores' that your mother taught you before she died. And he silently despised you for it, but it didn't matter, because there had been a helpful and very useless man in this house and now that man was back.

“Are you staying for dessert?” Natasha asks as she watches you dry your hands and Steve also wash his dirty plates and cutlery quickly.

“No, Steve and I are going to stay in my room for a while. We can eat later if there's anything left, thank you very much.” You shove your hands in your pockets, watching her nod a little tensely and pick up all the remaining dirty dishes when Steve gives her a nod.

The two of you climb the stairs and soon reach your room. It's not a small room, but it's spacious enough to hold everything you like. Philosophy books, art books, porn magazines that you used to swap with Steve when you were teenagers, – yes, this is kept secret – some toolboxes in case you needed them when something broke in the house, a collection of old CDs by the Beatles, Led Zeppelin and a thousand other bands and singers from the 70s and 80s. The room is still tidy, with a single bed lined with thin blue sheets and a gray pillow. There's also a desk and a medium-sized cupboard in the corner next to an old window.

The smell of your room and nostalgia is cozy, almost intoxicating.

“Hey, man, do you really keep them all? No kidding!” Steve laughs, picking up the magazines with the half-naked women on the covers.

Although you didn't have an addiction to this kind of thing, you and Steve were once two curious teenagers with hormones running wild in the middle of puberty. You'd get excited and buy these magazines on the sly, but even so, you weren't the type who needed to see a naked woman's body to get completely turned on. No, you were better than that, and you knew that real bodies worked better, were beautiful and much more objective.

“Of course, I left the army and ended up forgetting all this garbage.” You laugh, opening the drawers and leafing through some superhero comics, watching Steve laugh as he sees a cover with a blonde woman on one of the covers wearing pink lingerie. “No, no! Fuck, man that was the worst, I remember you gave it to me with the pages sticking together, you fucking pervert!”

“Sorry, man, I couldn't help myself! I still remember the look on your face when you got it full of life.” He says and you rolls your eyes.

“Jesus, that was disgusting. I'm going to throw it all away anyway, unless you want to keep it as a souvenir.” You laugh quietly and he makes a vomiting noise.

“No, thanks.” Steve shakes his head, walks over and picks up some comics to read too.

You put on a band CD while you lose yourself in conversation with Steve, remembering everything. You both laugh out loud when you remember the time Steve put a live frog on the head of a girl who was terrified of frogs, because she just thought it was funny to make fun of your worn-out shoes and said you couldn't afford new ones. He's never been so furious, no one could mess with you, only each other and all in jest, of course.

It was a great pastime for you to play pranks on bad students and grumpy teachers, or to skip important classes to drink cheap beer while listening to a small radio given to you by Steve's father. Those were incredible times, which only got old in the best way when Steve and you decided to enlist for the first time at the age of 18, getting kicked out because of arguments you had with some of the lieutenants. Anyway, you both found a way to get into the American army through the Kentucky fort, and obviously, together.

So Steve and you knew each other practically from your mother's womb. Joseph and Bruce met during high school before they got involved with their respective wives. They both served in the army, but only Mr. Rogers decided to make it a career, although he didn't succeed and decided to go into medicine. They were extremely close throughout your and Steve's adolescence, until one day they drifted apart over a mysterious fight in which you never really found out the motivation.

Even so, you and Steve could fight for centuries and still remain good friends.

“Hey, there's someone at the door.” Steve yawned, signaling the light knocks on your bedroom door.

With a light sigh, you put your comic aside, turning down the volume of a small, still-functional radio that was playing Black Sabbath in the background. When you opened the door, you saw her again.

Natasha. Your 'lovely' stepmother. She was standing right in front of the door, with two pieces of pie on a large plate and a tense, apparently shy look on her face. You still didn't understand why she looked at you as if she was going to dismount at any moment. She was wearing a beige apron over her dress and her hair was now slightly wavy at the ends, her face flushed.

“I know you may not be that hungry anymore, but I can't help trying. The pie is still warm, it's apple with caramel on top and blackberries and you know, I'm sorry about Bruce. Your father didn't have a good day, Y/n.” She sighs, looking away for a moment.

“Did I hear the word pie!?” Steve jumps out of bed already excited.

“I appreciate that. I'm sorry about the argument. I think he always tries to take it out on me, but that's okay. How's Derek?” You blink slowly, trying to ignore the feeling of Natasha staring you down to the core.

“Fine, I guess. I fed him dinner and some pie, got him to brush his teeth and now he's sleeping like a newborn after reading your stories about bigfoot.” She laughs softly, making you smile.

“He'll end up having nightmares about it. Thank you, Mrs. Romanoff.” You say, your voice already husky and slightly sleepy.

“Natasha, call me Natasha. There's no need for formalities here.” She replies, licking her lips slowly.

“Natasha.” You whisper back, hearing Natasha's breathing increase as you spell her name perfectly on the tip of her tongue.

“Have a good night. If you need anything you can call me and I'll be in the next room.” She says, almost stuttering, and nods as she walks away. “Good night, Natasha.”

“God, I thought you were going to eat each other and leave the pie behind!” Steve grumbles, picking up a piece with one of the forks and takes a bite, closing his eyes. “Wonderful!”

“Bloody hell, Steve, she's my father's wife!” you laugh incredulously, taking a piece of the sweet pie. “It's really good, it's fucking delicious.”

“But I know that. She's still got the hots for you, don't you see?” He shrugged, starting to devour the pie in seconds. “And even if she wasn't your father's, it must be worth losing yourself...you know, in that woman.”

“You're absolutely shameless. And I would never do that, no matter how much my father deserves it.” You roll your eyes, taking another piece of pie and Steve smiles. “I'm paying to see how badly this goes.”

Your wristwatch reads at least 6:10 in the morning. You don't know why you woke up so early on a Monday when you were on vacation from work, so to speak. Perhaps waking up at 5 a.m. every day at the Fort to paint walls and curbs, patrol, and other exhausting military services has made you accustomed to waking up at those times as if you were an uncontrolled robot. So you took a shower, brushed your teeth and ate an apple before going to Steve's house to pick up some cans of paint.

Your house was in a deplorable state, with the paint on all the walls outside peeling off, the garden with its extremely high lawn dirty with leaves thrown over it since last fall, dead plants and flowers everywhere and the appearance of the house itself sad and gray. You had to do something about it, since Bruce hasn't done it in two whole years.

Wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, the clock now reads 7:19 in the morning. You finish running the roller full of paint up to the top of the back wall of the house, not even needing a ladder because you're so fit. In an hour you've managed to paint the whole house and now you're going to rip down the wooden fences and put up new, clean ones.

“Y/n! What are you doing? It's so early and it's roasting hot out there!” You hear a familiar feline voice and drop the paint roller on top of the empty can.

You step away from the can and container and wipe the excessive sweat from your chest, your skin was probably all sunburnt, exposed to the bare torso and shapely legs on display. Natasha is at the door, dressed in a red sweater. Holy shit. You turn your face away, feeling deeply warmed, and run your paint-smeared hands over your face, clad only in baggy shorts and barefoot.

“I'm painting the house, Natasha.” You answer simply and matter-of-factly, watching out of the corner of your eye as she puts a thin blouse over it, certainly embarrassed.

“At 7 in the morning! You must be dying of heat! Have you applied sunscreen?” She asks, approaching quickly.

You missed the maternal concern and affection, but considering the current situation, it was totally inappropriate.

“We didn't use sun cream during our time in the army. Especially during patrols on the patio with direct contact with the sun, or anywhere else where it was necessary. They simply didn't hand out sunscreen to us.” You say and shrug, discarding the empty tin and the rest of the used items.

“That's horrible, you could get serious burns!” She replies and puts her hand to her head, making you laugh. "I'll be back in a minute."

Natasha leaves and you wash your hands in a sink at the back of the house, removing as much of the gooey paint as you can and wetting your head and chest to try and cool off. As soon as you've finished, you go down to the basement and get a box full of new fences that haven't even been used before. First you get the rest of the tools and put everything in the garden, then you get a lawnmower, which luckily isn't rusty.

You push the lawnmower as soon as the blades shoot out, starting to cut the grass quickly. Your hands are steady and nimbly, you're finishing off the first row of grass. Pressing the button on the side of the mower, you snort and sigh deeply, resting your hands on your waist.

“I'm going to melt like this, my Lord.” You say to yourself with a laugh.

Going round to the back, you find a sack and a shovel and start gathering up all that grass and throwing it into the sack. It could be useful or reusable at some point.

“Hey you! All right, take a break from that and come and eat properly.” Natasha appears as soon as you've collected all the grass in the sack and walks over to you gently.

She's now wearing a black tank top, which emphasises her perfectly marked collarbone and her pale neck, which is as delicate as any detail can be. On her legs are a pair of denim shorts, neither short nor baggy, but you can still see how her shapely thighs look so perfectly...thick in them. And she looks so natural, nothing forced, just there, for you, carrying a plate with a cut sandwich, a glass of juice and a bottle of water. I mean, your father was lucky but he was an idiot, why on earth would he deserve someone like that?

“Natasha, really, you didn't have to do that. I don't want you to bother with me.” You say, feeling your face very red, from the sun - and from a certain effect it has on you - and sweaty.

“I'm not bothered at all. I'm not going to let you die of dehydration in this heat, it must be 30 degrees or more!” She exclaims and you carefully pick up the plate, cautiously dropping the other equipment. “Wait, open your arms a little, don't let go of the plate please.”

You frown and open your arms, pushing the plate as far away from your torso and body as you can. Natasha approaches you, taking a plastic bottle from the pocket of her shorts and opens the lid, pouring some kind of cream onto her fingers. You stare at the words written in blue and white, trying to decipher the smudges, and your jaw drops in disbelief. It was sun cream.

“Natasha, look, it's okay, I've got used to the sun-” you say, but it's too late.

The woman is smearing sunscreen on your face, and you're so red that even under the sunscreen, you can see how flushed and hot you look. Oh, shit.

“The sun doesn't get used to any of us, though. Once when I was half your age, I went to a beach in Miami, Florida, with my parents and some friends. I slathered sunscreen all over my body except my buttocks and um... I definitely couldn't sit up straight for a week after that, the burns weren't kind to me and it wasn't the sun's fault.” She laughs lightly, gently rubbing the sun cream into her cheeks and forehead.

The heat in your cheeks spreads even more violently and you gently bite your lower lip, something that Natasha notices and strangely makes her legs wobble. I wonder what else makes her unable to sit down for a whole week. Fucking stop it, you cut off your thoughts before they spread, but they're dirty all the same.

“That must have been hard.” You answer, and your voice slowly begins to die.

What is she doing now, my Lord?

Natasha finishes spreading the sunscreen on your face and neck, her fingers still smeared with protector trailing down the start of your chest. Your skin is burning, but that's not what fascinates her, it's the hard, burly, extremely rock-hard flesh of your pectorals, covered in a very thin, sparse line of hair. She gasps as discreetly as she can, trying her best not to grab his every muscle and touch and squeeze. In fact, she knows now that you look like more than a wall, it's as if you were made completely of muscle and only a little 'skin' covering everything.

Romanoff's hand slides to the end of your chest on the right side, and she doesn't even know what she's doing, for her, she's just spreading the rest of the sunscreen on her fingers. But you feel it, you feel her grip, her electrifying, mundane, specific touch, as if she wanted to scratch every part of your skin as well as touch it, as if she wanted to do everything you could imagine there.

“I'm sorry.” She says, swallowing dry and trying to swallow her own shame as well.

But she still feels your warmth. She feels your minty fresh breath, pleasant and peaceful, she feels how affected you were by a single touch of her delicate, soft hand. You want more and maybe she knows it, but that's wrong, it's inappropriate.

“You can leave the sunscreen somewhere, I'll put more on after I've cut everything here.” You say and she nods quickly, hugging her own body.

“This is going to be a lot of work.” She says and you nod, taking a bite and moaning slightly.

The sandwich is a spicy mix of tomato, toasted wholemeal bread, smoked turkey breast, mayonnaise, a little mustard, bean sprouts, cheese and a spicy dressing. As well as being kind, intelligent, seductive, completely attractive, the woman cooks like hell, what more could Bruce want? Absolutely nothing.

“Fuck, this is fucking divine, the work will be worth it. Thank you so much.” You thank her without knowing what else to say, the scouse accent making Natasha wince.

She had time to notice your accent and your voice as soon as she arrived with Steve at the residence yesterday. She, however, had no idea that you were British or anything. Not least because all Bruce ever really said about you were the most unpleasant compliments in the form of criticisms. He proved to be a good father to other people, but it was different with you. You could see why.

“No need to thank me, really. I hope you didn't forget your sunscreen.” She says, raising an eyebrow as she tries to look serious and you laugh. “Sure, no problem.”

Your bites are precise and hungry, and you can tell that a single apple an hour ago would never have satisfied you. You finish eating, drink all the pineapple juice and hand it all to Natasha, taking the sunscreen again and spreading it on your fingers, your hands flying across your sweaty pecs, ribs and abs. Natasha walks away towards the house, her gaze lingering on you several times.

She's a married woman. Married to your father. That's not right, it's far from it.

But just taking a look is okay, right?

You hurry, organize everything and start up the machine again, cutting another row of grass. Then another, another, until you've finished with all that tall grass that could end up with some animal hiding there. You put all the grass in two sacks and put them in the corner of the garden, then you start to remove and tear down the old, dirty and soft wooden fences, which are practically falling apart.

After marking out the right height for the fences with lines and stakes, you make a quick calculation and grab a spade, digging the holes where the picket panels will be. It takes about some hours, between quick breaks, your feet are dirty with dirt and now your body is really bathed in sweat, but after lining up the pickets, checking that they're all in the same vertical position, digging non-stop and cleaning dirt off your grass, everything looks perfect. You even do a quick and precise finish, and smile when you see that your work has turned out perfectly.

“Great. I just need to replant the plants soon.” You whisper, feeling tired.

After putting away all the equipment, cleaning up all the grass and briefly painting the fences, you walk away and enter the house, dripping with sweat from head to toe. You wipe your feet on the carpet, imagining that Natasha is the kind of woman who will freak out if you get dirt all over the house and yell at you for hours. Now, however, she's sitting in the living room, with Derek by her side as she appears to help him with his homework.

“Looks like I'm late.” You smile, adjusting the black cap on your head and her gaze quickly falls on you.

She has to control herself, she has to. She's in front of a child.

But it's inevitable.

Bruce would probably show off if he looked like that too, but he's got the typical 40-something dad-beer-belly physique. You, on the other hand... you're majestic, even though you're completely sweaty and give off the classic manly odor of a man who does everything for his family, your muscles being highlighted by sticky sweat, probably swollen from working outside the house. She is silently awestruck, the heat rushes through the blood in her cheeks and her thighs rub together painfully.

“Y/n! Nat said you were painting the whole house.” Derek jumps up, running to hug your legs and you wave.

“I just went to give this house a new look, it was looking sloppy and abandoned. I painted it, put up new fences and now it looks decent, all that's missing is a few details on the inside. And you, big boy, go back to Aunt Nat and do your homework.” You kiss his forehead and the boy runs back to the woman.

“Aren't you hungry? It's practically lunchtime.” Natasha starts talking, looking tense.

“Maybe I'm a bit too hungry, but I need to take a shower and get rid of that skunk smell. Where's Bruce?” You cross your arms, looking around the house for your old father.

“He's gone out to sort out 'work matters', he said he'll be back in the afternoon. You can take your shower, when I've finished here I'll make you something to eat.” She says, smiling gently and you sigh.

You're definitely not used to this motherly treatment. You've always looked after yourself, but Derek first, and Bruce second. You always prioritized family, but that didn't mean you were at ease with Natasha doing it all for you. After all, you've never had anyone really care like that. Natasha seemed to want to take care of you like a newborn baby and that seemed strange, but you didn't want to give her so much trouble. You could look after yourself, so why worry so much?

You didn't want to be so close to her either. You were afraid of what might happen when you were alone, because that sexual tension was evident, it was dry and eager. She looked at you the way you looked at her, with silent desires that even without emitting sound, understanding, could be understood just by looking at you, by searching for you.

The warm water falls over your body, relaxing every tense muscle from your back to your exhausted chest. You lean your forehead against the wall and relax for a moment, allowing yourself to enjoy the feeling of relaxation and calm.

“Fuck.” You whisper softly, feeling a wave of warmth hit your body.

No. No dirty thoughts about an older woman. The problem wasn't that she was older, it was that she was your stepmother.

The foam-filled sponge glides over your stiff, tense body, your eyes closing as you imagine... Natasha on her knees, or lowered to the floor, or bent over with her face buried in the pillow as she smiles at you. A grunt leaves your lips and the blood rushes violently to your semi-hard member.

“Jesus, no.” You say, washing yourself and running some shampoo through your slightly overgrown hair, wiping away all that sweat.

After taking a few more minutes in the shower to get rid of a possible erection, you wash your face and leave the bathroom, drying yourself with the first towel you find there. You're still hot, but you have to control yourself. You want to take her right now, admit it. Your head shakes and you climb the stairs to your room with the towel around your waist, hoping you've been unnoticed, and enter the room, drying yourself quickly.

Passing through the open door, you put on sports shorts and boxer shorts underneath, quickly finishing drying your hair while putting on a tight compression T-shirt. Just wearing it makes you realize how much you've really grown physically.

“Hey, it's time to take Derek to school.” Natasha says as you walk down the stairs with running shoes in your hands.

“Sure, I can do that without any problems, my dad didn't use the car to go out today. Are you coming?” You ask, trying to understand the blush on her cheeks.

“I'd love to. I'm just going to finish tidying him up.” She smiles tensely, and you see your brother waving frantically as Natasha changes his clothes.

Derek then turns around, his hair combed back like his mother used to do with hers, the backpack a little bigger than him slung over his back and wearing a simple blue shirt and shorts, the sneakers identical to yours. Well, Natasha really was a good stepmother. You just couldn't see her the way you were seeing her, because that was incorrect and dirty, but it was almost inevitable.

“Ready?” You lick your lips and the two of you nod quickly. “Good, let's go.”

The road is quiet, peaceful. Natasha tells you where Derek goes to school because he was transferred not long ago and you drive along calmly, listening to them chatting about random, common things. Your hands turn the steering wheel skillfully, and through the rearview mirror you feel Natasha's gaze on you, although you can't say why.

The car stops and you park it in a wide parking lot, turning off the engine and taking off your seat belt. Stepping around the car, you help Derek out of his seatbelt and open the door for Natasha, who looks ecstatic about something but climbs down next to your brother, stroking his hair.

“Professor Carter!” Derek says, and runs out to a female figure standing a few meters away near a silver golf.

Natasha closes the door, giving you a grateful look, and the two of you approach the scene gingerly. Derek is hugging an older woman, she wears a long dress just below her knees in a wine color and her hair is straight blonde and well aligned, her brown eyes surprisingly calm, welcoming the boy and leaning down to hug him back. She... She's familiar to you.

“Hey, pretty boy, how are you? Natasha, good morning. Oh.” She greets the redhead and then looks at you, a surprised look filling her face.

More than a few years ago, you and Sharon Carter had a little fling together. You grew up together and had a lot in common. Steve introduced you to her at a party when you were 16 and she was 19. She's not that much older than you, and that didn't seem to be a problem, until Sharon said she'd fallen in love with you. And indeed, Sharon has fallen in love with you.

But you were the classic bad boy who liked to drive without a license, who spent the early hours of the morning away from home because your father constantly found any reason to fight with you, to complain about you as if it hadn't been his choice to have a son. You weren't the typical nice guy Sharon needed, like Steve for example, and you didn't know if you were in love with her, but you two had sex often, and that made her even more attached to you.

When you disappeared with the simple warning that you were going to serve in the army and didn't know if you'd be back any time soon, Sharon was disappointed. She wanted to spend time with you more than anything, but you had gone to serve your country and she had a career ahead of her, which she chose to become a teacher even though she wanted to be a psychologist. She liked you, she really did, but sometimes you acted like a bomb about to explode, just like Bruce did.

“Surprised to see me? Yeah, I knew you were going to become a teacher, Sharon. You always knew how to get along with children.” You say and squeeze Sharon's hand with a gentle but firm touch, which she blushes at before replying.

“I thought you were going to spend even more time in the army, Y/n. It seems to have done you a lot of good.” She says, biting her lip discreetly and smiling.

Natasha crosses her arms, an impassive expression on her face. She can already completely tell that the two of you know each other, that's for sure, but for some reason, the way Sharon looks at you and acts towards you makes Romanoff feel a big pang of discomfort in his stomach.

“Teacher, I have to show you my new drawings!” Derek says excitedly, hugging the woman tighter by the legs.

“Of course, darling, I'll look at them all, okay?” She says, running her hand over his bangs. “I thought Bruce was coming today.”

“You know how he is, always 'sorting out work stuff. Thanks for taking such good care of him, Sharon.” A minimalist smile curves your lips without showing your teeth and Sharon nods.

“No need to thank me, apart from being my job, it's a pleasure to look after this little one. We should have a coffee together one day, perhaps.” She says and makes you sigh, grabbing the car keys and giving Derek a kiss on the forehead.

“Yeah, maybe one day. Good morning, have fun, we'll be going for now, see you soon.” You nod and she agrees, expecting more from you, but turns and walks into the school with the boy.

As soon as you get into the car, put the key in the ignition and adjust the windows, Natasha gets in. Her face is slightly twisted with frustration, perhaps? That, and a hint of discontent. It looks like someone has stepped on her toes, but why?

“So, you and the teacher...” She says calmly, although her eyes seem distant and indifferent to you.

“What?” You turn the wheel, steering the car out of the parking lot and back onto the road.

“There seems to be something between you.” She replies and you laugh awkwardly, shaking your head.

“There's nothing between us.” You say and look at her out of the corner of your eye, Natasha's face turned completely towards you.

“She made it sound like there was, you know.” She shrugged, seeming not to want to bother you with the subject.

“Steve and I have known her since we were teenagers. Teenage parties, drinking, drugs, you know. Sharon was a fling of mine. If I can call it that.” Your voice answers quietly and you look at Natasha discreetly.

"Well, she doesn't seem to have forgotten you. You know how it is, when a woman loves, she's willing to do anything to make up for lost time, but it doesn't just depend on her." She says relaxed, still trying not to let her jealous face overflow.

“Sharon isn't in love with me. At least I don't think so. Even if she was, I'm not what she's looking for.” You say and on the one hand, Natasha reassures herself.

“And what is she looking for?” Romanoff looks at you from the passenger seat.

Her lips are pressed together, her breathing seems slightly unregulated. She's frustrated, yes. She's jealous, yes. She hated the way Sharon looked at you as if you were a toy she could ride on top of. Absolutely. Yes. But why should your stepmother be jealous of you? That was wrong, immoral, maybe a bit problematic, she'd only just met you anyway. It made your skin hot, but the hairs on the back of your neck were rising and your fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter, trying to focus on the road before your eyes.

“What most women are looking for, I believe. A protective, self-assured, confident man. She wants a man who is one hundred percent there for her at all times. I didn't learn to be like that.” You brake at a red light and buckle up, your head resting against the seat.

“Don't you think she's the right woman?” Romanoff swallows, trying her best not to sound intrusive.

If anyone else were asking you these questions, it would be a different story. But her, she brought you comfort. She was...good. She was a good woman, as Steve assumed.

“I'm not in love with her, Natasha, even if she was right, what good would it do?” You look at her, and she nods quietly.

You've never found someone who makes your heart soar as if you were in one of those cheesy movie clichés, who makes time stand still around you, who makes you feel like the luckiest man in the world. No, you've never experienced any of that. You've only had nighttime adventures with older girls or even girls your own age, adventures with kissing, sex without commitment and conversations thrown away to be remembered. You never knew what love was.

And the only person who could teach you that was right there beside you, annoyed for some reason at the possibility of you falling in love with someone other than her.

“All right.” That was the only answer Natasha gave you, watching the car pull into the driveway of your house.

When you got in – and there was still a certain murderous silence in the air – you just took off your shoes, sat down on the sofa and picked up the remote control, looking for a live American soccer program, trying to distract yourself. Natasha went into the kitchen to do something, and the door creaked open a few minutes after you arrived, revealing Bruce's early arrival. He looked at you, but overcome by pride, said nothing and passed through to the kitchen.

“Hi, darling. How was work?” Natasha's distant voice said to him, who caught her kissing him, answering disconnectedly. “It was business as usual. I've never waited so long to get home and have my wife all to myself.”

You rolled your eyes, lay back on the sofa and turned up the volume slightly, watching two American league teams fight for a title. For some unusual reason, the sound of wet kissing bothered you deeply. You shook your head and tried to focus on the match, then you heard footsteps approaching the room and Natasha's warm hand touched your shoulder, making you turn almost instantly.

“Hey, do you want something to eat?” She asked, her lips slightly swollen and her face flushed.

You'd love to see her like that, but you'd love it even more to have that effect on her.

“No, thanks, Natasha. I'm going to take a nap, you can relax.” You replied and she nodded, smiling slowly before heading up the stairs, Bruce right behind her.

Your head pressed into the pillow and you let out a short curse, feeling uncomfortable and disgusted by the situation. It was your father's house too, but you were still there. Anyway, you forced yourself to sleep and it worked, your eyes became heavy and you completely relaxed your muscles against the not-so-spacious sofa, knowing that you would wake up with a sore neck as soon as you woke up.

“Fuck.” You cursed, rubbing your tired eyes.

The house was the same, but the afternoon was beginning to fade, making it clear that it would soon be dark. You grabbed the black clock on the table, seeing that it read 5:48 in the afternoon. There was still an hour or so before Derek would be released from school, so you were relieved to see that you weren't late to pick him up.

“What?” You sat groggily on the sofa, listening to a lot of noise coming from upstairs.

There were sounds coming from upstairs, and at first you thought there was something wrong there, since you were still groggy from sleep and tired. But gradually you noticed. The creaking of Bruce's bed, the loud sounds of skin hitting skin, of the headboard hitting the wall. They were having sex.

“Fuck, holy shit.” You say, completely lost in disgust and cover your head with your hands. “This can't be serious.”

But you could still hear it. It completely disturbed you. But it was also wrong, being jealous of your stepmother when she's married to your father. It's not as if Natasha hadn't been upset with Sharon about you too.

But she was married, you weren't. Still, that seemed contrary to morality.

“Fuck.” You cursed to yourself, getting out of there and going to the kitchen.

There was a case of beer in the fridge. You hated looking like your father, because whenever something bothered you or upset you, you always drank too, but not like him, he was worse. You grabbed two bottles and opened the caps with your teeth, spitting them into the trash can. Five minutes passed, and you emptied half the bottle of beer, lying on the sofa when Natasha came downstairs.

Your head turns subtly in the direction of the stairs and there she is, walking down the steps like an art exhibition that could never be bought. A misunderstood muse. Yet not something that could be conquered, but touched, felt. A woman, with a deceptive young girl's face, with an older woman's mature soul with gifts you could never guess. Married to your arsehole of a father. He didn't deserve her, that much was clear, but what could you do, if not mourn in the corners of the house, silently wishing this woman was yours?

Her skin was pale, although tanned by her own sweat. Her impeccable red hair was now dishevelled and out of order, falling in light waves to her shoulders. Her body, which could reveal to you many dangerous curves and paths to the most silent sin, was covered in a long black dressing gown, and you could see that she was wearing a baggy T-shirt that wasn't hers on her body. Her lips were swollen, dry. You could see a glimpse of her shapely legs, and wow, what legs. Although you knew exactly what she and your father were doing up there, she didn't look pleased. Her eyes looked confused, troubled, even sweaty, she was unhappy. And how could she not be unhappy with Bruce Banner?

But you couldn't look away. She was so well preserved, my goodness.

“I'm sorry, Y/n, I thought you were still asleep. I didn't want to appear like this, I must look like an unnatural stepmother.” She laughs, and it's so natural that you want to hear that sound more often.

“Yeah, well, I just had a nap anyway. It seems my father didn't take care of his work properly. I heard it, without meaning to, but I heard it.” You say, and as soon as you realise what you've said, you swallow bitterly.

Natasha looks at you deeply, she doesn't feel offended. But embarrassed? To the extreme. Bruce doesn't even look after the house, imagine if he could handle wife when they're in bed? He was an arrogant arsehole – and sometimes you were a bit arrogant yourself – but he was terrible at a lot of things. That made him a complete failure.

“Y/n. I wish you wouldn't comment on my sex life with your father.” She says, and she's not blunt, but firm and offhand, even.

“Sorry. I didn't mean to.” You reply calmly but you want to say much more to her.

Yeah, if I had you, you'd really moan, Natasha. In fact, you wouldn't even be walking unless your legs were completely weak and you wouldn't even be thinking. That would be having a real man.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket and you grab it, seeing messages from Steve inviting you out for a drink at a newly opened bar. It didn't sound too bad. And you weren't going to stand there listening to your incredibly hot stepmother having sex with your slacker father who didn't even know how to treat a woman. You answer Steve quickly and grab a camouflage jacket, put it on over your shirt and change your shorts for trousers and shoes before heading back down to the living room.

“I'm going for a walk with Steve, we're going to a pub with an old high school crowd. When I get back, I'll probably bring Derek from school. So don't worry, I'll take care of everything.” You say and walk across the room, but Natasha holds your arm.

“Hey, don't drink too much. You're driving and you're bringing your brother, Y/n.” She says, her green eyes clouded with worry.

“I won't. You can relax.” You whisper firmly, and the smell of her sweat hits you.

It's something like vanilla, but at the same time mixed with a specific sweet, fruity flavour. Delicious. She's delicious. Even when sweaty, her scent remains impeccable, and you've noticed it ever since you first saw her. You see a slight bite mark on her neck and you want to touch it, but something bothers your stomach, because you know it's not you who's caused it. And you can't. Natasha sighs, she knows you're so close that just by looking at you she could stop breathing, because you're like a masterpiece hidden deep inside her genius mind.

“I get it. You take care.” You say, forcing yourself to get away from her before you do something thoughtless.

Natasha regrets your departure. She wants you to stay, but it's your choice and you want to be with your old friends, it's your right, so she just watches you walk out the door. Your words are still jumbled and struggling in her mind. Bruce really wouldn't know how to satisfy her. But what about you? How deep could you go for her?

The place is cosy like being in an old cottage in the middle of a field away from everything, but it's a pub nonetheless. A pub, with the appearance of a pub, of course. With lots of chairs and tables spread out in an orderly fashion, with decorative signs with drink brands, with people laughing and exchanging small talk with each other, with a woman carrying more mugs of frothy beer than you can count. The smell is pleasant, a mixture of burning wood and live alcohol seeping through the walls, as well as jazz and blues playing in the background. Now that should be a lifestyle. You stick your hands in your pockets and catch up with Steve, who is chatting distractedly to Private Wilson, none other than Maria Hill and James Barnes, a school friend who has disappeared from your sight to go live with his parents in Germany.

Maria was a great friend of yours and Steve's, and he even told you that she liked you a lot, but you only saw her as a sister, something that annoyed her, but she would never push it.

“Hey, look who's here! When Steve said you looked like a wall, I couldn't believe it, I had to come and see for myself.” Barnes laughs and hugs you, patting you on the back. “And you look great, mate, if you were blonde you'd be considered a German citizen straight away.”

“You're impossible.” Maria laughs and hugs you too, as tightly as if she hadn't seen you for years, which was true.

The five of you get lost in conversations between the past and the present. Maria, who was a classmate at the school where you and Rogers studied, had completed her studies and was studying law for some time, something she was very proud of. Barnes, who was now living in Germany but took time out to see old friends, had opened a workshop in Stuttgart, one of the country's most influential industrial cities. Wilson was certainly in the army, as you already knew, but according to him, he planned to finish another year of service and open a carpentry shop to honour his late father's memory. Even Steve was planning to leave the army, he said he'd like to become a 'police chief', which didn't sound too bad. You, on the other hand, weren't even sure what to do.

All you knew was that you wanted your own car, to move out of your grumpy father's house and find a place of your own, even if it wasn't in the city centre.

But you would still happily visit Derek as often as you could.

“Hey, baby! Why don't you come round and give us a bit of attention? Let's have some fun!” A bald guy with yellow teeth exclaimed from the table a few metres away from yours on the left.

This guy was with two other men at his table, one of them had spiky hair and wore dark glasses, the other had gel-slicked hair and blue glasses. They were all wearing jackets and dark clothes, with helmets on the floor under the table where they were standing. They all looked fucking weird, though, and were already staring at Maria in a completely uncomfortable and sexual way that was putting you off. She paid no attention for the first few minutes, of course, trying not to care, but they were becoming increasingly unbearable to put up with.

“Hey, mate, stay cool. She's with us.” Steve said, noticing your shoulders tense with nervousness.

He didn't want to risk it, he knew you had a certain problem with anger but Steve was a man of order and hated arguments unless he felt it was 'necessary'. You, on the other side, had already downed three shots of straight whisky and were ready to blow the ugly faces off those ogre bikers.

“And who said I asked you anything, hero hair?” The frizzy-haired guy asked and stood up, passing behind Sam and subtly squeezing Maria's shoulders, who was startled. “Could you please take your hands off me?”

"You don't like it, do you?" He laughed and approached her.

You practically jumped out of your chair, using both hands to push the man's chest, who staggered backwards with your violent force and almost fell to the floor. He growled a dry laugh and approached you again, punching you in the air as you nimbly sidestepped him. Your group laughed and whistled in your direction, making him even angrier, and you drove your fist straight into his nose, hearing something break and fresh blood splatter on your skin.

“She said to let go of her.” You grunted, hardly caring about the pain.

“What the fuck, man!” One of them shouted and you felt the thud of something glass against your face. “Y/n!”

You punched the same man and kicked him in the stomach, hearing a loud grunt of pain, blood staining the refinished wooden floor. The second man approached and you head-butted him hard, feeling his blood splatter on your forehead and nose. The bald man pushed you, making you stumble with a bleeding part of your face, noticing that he had smashed a fucking glass bottle over your head. Fortunately, there was a single deep cut on your eyebrow going halfway down your pale cheek. He nearly blinded you. Steve pushed him hard and kicked him in the stomach, and you elbowed the third man who approached you in the face.

“That's enough! Out of my pub, NOW!” A middle-aged man with a full moustache said and Steve and the others pulled you out.

“Bloody hell, mate, you nearly fucked your face up for that! That was insanely crazy!” Barnes shouted, trying to analyse your bruise.

“It's okay, it's just a bit of blood.” You sighed heavily.

“What were you thinking! Jesus, Banner, you could have hurt yourself badly or something worse!” Maria grabbed your shoulders, visibly worried.

“Exactly! We need to take care of this.” Steve pointed to your bruised face.

“I wasn't going to let that disgusting worm harass you, Hill.” You whispered furiously, your fists shaking.

“And I didn't want you to get hurt because of me, Banner! God, you're so impulsive.” She shook her head.

“All right, Hill, I'll take care of it from here. Don't worry.” Rogers touched her shoulder and Maria nodded nimbly.

“Wilson, Barnes and I were thinking of going to a party a few blocks from here, are you coming? It's a friend's birthday.” She asked, brushing a lock of her fringe out of her face.

“I can't right now, I have to pick Derek up from school. I hope you have a good time, though.” You say and pull her into a tight hug, which she returns.

“And I'll be keeping an eye on this tough guy. Good night, take care, gentlemen and...lady.” Steve says goodbye to them and you look at him out of the corner of your eye. “Don't give me that look, you know I won't let you drive alone in this state.”

And Steve does. He drives to school as soon as you've said goodbye to the rest of the group, looking at you every five minutes as if you might jump out of the car if you had a mental breakdown. You were still bleeding, no matter how hard you tried to stop the bleeding, the cut had left a wide scar on your eyebrow sliding in a crooked loop to the beginning of your right cheek. It stung like hell, even, and there might have been a few shards stuck in there, but you'd convinced yourself to put up with as much pain as possible and Steve not to drag you to the nearest hospital.

“Stevie! Y/n!” Derek ran towards you both, hugging you and jumping into your arms.

“Hey, little brother.” You ruffled his hair, hearing voices all over the car park, parents gathering with their children and kids everywhere.

“What happened to your face?” The boy held your chin, his black eyes wide.

“Well, what can we say, mate? Your big brother took on a bad guy to protect a friend of ours and ended up with a war wound.” Steve smiled, crossing his arms as he looked directly at you.

“Hey, that's an honourable act. Let's just say it's what separates the men from the boys.” You shrugged, opening the passenger door for your brother and sitting him down, helping him buckle his seatbelt.

“In other words, he's a tough guy.” Steve laughed briefly, getting into the car and you patted Derek on the shoulder. “And we say...”

“We should always protect and look after women, sir.” The boy said before you could even think and you nodded positively, sitting down next to him and pulling on your seatbelt as Steve started to drive. “That's my boy.”

The journey home is a bit hectic. Derek tells you and Steve that the girl he's supposedly tremendously in love with, Emilly, has taken a liking to a guy who certainly loves to pick on him. She also seems to be ignoring him. You and Steve try your best to comfort the boy, who is quiet for a few minutes only until you mention that Natasha must be preparing something for him to eat when he arrives. The boy jumps out of the car as soon as you park it and helps him with his seatbelt, and you joke about it with Steve as you approach the house after locking the car.

“You're here, baby! How was class?” You hear Natasha's voice from inside and sigh.

The first thing that unfortunately crosses your mind is that she literally fucked your father while you were awake listening to everything.

But it's okay, because apparently Bruce didn't get the job done, but he should be calmer now.

“It was great, Nat! Emily kicked my arse, but it's okay because Stevie told me I'm a big guy who deserves better things and now I'm starving. Look at that, Y/n's got a new war scar!” He exclaims, pointing at you as you enter the room.

Natasha is now wearing neutral-coloured baggy trousers, a striped T-shirt and slippers that you've never seen before, but which make her even more adorable considering the situation. Her red hair is tied up in a messy bun and a few strands fall across her face, making her look completely and fucking ten times hotter than before. But no, you shouldn't see your stepmother like that, mate.

“What? My God, Y/n! What's happened?” Natasha moves away from the cooker where she was standing and switches off the fire, running over to you.

“Natasha, it's no big deal, just-” You try to explain yourself, but Romanoff is quicker.

“Oh, God. What's wrong? I told you not to drink, especially as you had to bring Derek back home! Say something, how did this happen?” She exclaims, practically on the verge of collapse.

You almost laugh at the situation, because you find the way she cares for you subtle and kind, but your smile falters when Natasha is so close that her breath brushes your face. Her fingers are on your jaw, some run over your ears, and you smell her, feel how close she is now, and her touch is simply the icing on the cake. It lights you up.

“It was just a silly bar fight, Natasha, it's fine. Steve and I were with some friends, Maria, our friend, was being bothered by some weirdos and I had to take action.” You explain, swallowing.

“And by that he means: he took on three men practically on his own and got his head bashed in. That's why he's bleeding.” Steve commented, not looking threatened by your fatal stare.

“Jesus Christ. You've got to be out of your mind, you should be in hospital right now! Hang on, I'll take care of it.” Natasha said, moving away to rummage through the cupboard drawers.

Just then, Bruce appeared, coming down the stairs. He had his glasses in his eyes, his hair crumpled and dishevelled, a crooked posture and a grumpy, grey look in his eyes. He didn't look very friendly for someone who'd had sex this afternoon. Well, it's not as if he's the type who knows how to leave a woman satisfied. It seemed to make sense.

“Leave the boy alone, Natasha, he can look after himself, he's practically a grown man.” He said and she replied. “No, he's bleeding, he won't know how to look after himself.”

“You're stubborn, just go and serve the dishes and stop voicing your opinion-” Bruce said rudely, but she cut him off.

“Shut up, Bruce. Sit down. I'll take care of Y/n's wound first.” She practically grunted, bringing with her a first aid kit.

Bruce looked static, probably furious that his wife had hit him for the first time, but he went to sit down at the table and remained silent.

“Natasha-” You sighed, feeling her sit you down in the living room armchair and shake her head.

“No Natasha, Y/n. You're hurt, the least I can do is clean it up and hope it gets a bit better, but if you were in hospital, you'd probably need a few stitches.” She shakes her head, opening the small suitcase. “And that's going to hurt a bit.”

You close your eyes and shake your head subtly, trying to ignore the way her breath was practically in your face and judging that her full breasts were so prominent inside her striped shirt, she was probably without a bra. Fuck, don't look over there, kid. Natasha takes a piece of gauze, her hands already clean and sanitised, and presses it gently on the cut, trying her best to stop the bleeding without hurting you.

“You know, I was a nurse when I was about your age. For a few years. I served in the army in Manhattan. I was good at what I did, but I didn't think it was for me.” She whispered softly, her eyes fixed on every part of your face.

“Can't stand the smell of blood?” You asked rhetorically.

“Not just the smell. I don't like seeing the consequences caused on the body of a man who is trying to defend his country. I didn't have the stomach for it.” She swallowed dryly and you nodded softly.

“What do you do now?” The question escapes her mouth faster than she realises and Natasha pulls out the bloodstained cotton wool, fiddling absent-mindedly with the case.

“I make cakes, sweets in general, it's been a long time since I married your father. I was unemployed anyway, so as I'm almost obsessed with baking, I put one thing together and that's what happened.” She replied, bending down to wipe the dried blood from her brow.

“Do you make them and have your own shop or?..” You stared at her.

“No, well, I cook them and prepare everything myself. Young Thor, from next door, delivers them on his bicycle, and I pay him accordingly. He's a great kid.” She says simply.

Your jaw clenches, the fingers of your hand squeezing the seat cushion indiscreetly. Annoyed? Certainly. But why? She's your stepmother, she's married and well-off, even though she has your idiot father for a spouse. Apart from that, you shouldn't be jealous of her.

“Got it.” Your eyes flash dangerously and Natasha suddenly blushes, looking away.

“I'll put a saline solution over the cut to make sure it's cleaner. Then I'll cover it with gauze, but please make sure you go and see the doctor, Y/n, I don't want you to get an infection or anything.” She asks and you nod.

Romanoff leans over and with a new piece of damp cotton wool, she dabs it over his still open cut with the utmost caution, cleaning the area as best she can. A grunt comes out of your mouth as the wound burns all over, the blood running cold through your veins. Natasha notices and pulls her hand away slightly, feeling your gaze on her.

“It's all right. Take a deep breath.” She says and you do as she says, your chest rising and falling.

She moves closer again, and feels your hand on her wrist, which makes her breathing increase slightly, intimidated by you. But you follow her every move, and she cleans the wound as much as she can, pulling away when she's finished. With a clean towel, she carefully dries around the wound and takes a piece of gauze, making a few improvised cuts because of the angle of your wound. She quickly covers the area and sticks the cotton fabric there, making sure it sticks well but also doesn't cover or obscure your vision.

“Thank you. That wasn't necessary.” You say, your heavy accent making Natasha's legs tremble discreetly.

“It was necessary. And please don't get into any more fights if you want to kill me and your father with worry.” She says, and her hand accidentally brushes against your broad shoulder.

“I'm sure he doesn't mind, but I really appreciate it, Natasha.” A crooked smile curves her lips.

“I care about you.” She says simply.

Natasha's gaze on you is surreal. Everything about this woman is surreal, her eyes, her voice, her completely gentle and naturally full demeanour. Fuck, she should be unwanted here, but you're starting to completely ignore the very rules you've built behind the wall you're hiding behind, because deep down, you want this woman in every way possible. It doesn't matter if she's your stepmother, or a forbidden woman.

“Aren't you coming round for dinner?” Natasha smiled softly, a bite on the lower lip being enough to end your evening.

#natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel #steve rogers #agegap #scarlett johansson #natasha romanoff x you

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supernatural-hunter1 · 6 months ago

Note

Hi I hope you are having a good day or night

can I please request a reader who meets future and current luffy

You do not have to do these part: current luffy is not interested in any relationship but the future luffy is happening married with reader

You can make at your own way of course

Thank you,(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

Thanks for requesting, I will do my best😃 and I hope you don't mind if I based this a little bit off of around the movie "Adventures Of Nebulandia" (which might be my new favorite movie of one piece😅 and if you have not seen the movie yet. I apologize in advance four the slight spoilers😓)

Luffy x female reader, fluff,

"LET THE GAMES BEGIN!!"

It was a beautiful warm sunny day on the thousand sunny, you recently just joined the straw hat crew about 3 weeks ago to be exact. They had to dock on an island for supplies. And to get their ship fixed up, but surprisingly you came from a tribe of werewolves, and you learned how to shift into your Wolf form during both the day and night. Luffy though that you were pretty cool and practically begged you to join his crew?

And now here you are on the thousand sunny you were sitting against the tree on the grassy deck drawing sketches, nami and Robin. We're both sitting under an umbrella on one side of the deck, while Usopp and Franky we're having a shooting contest On the other side of the deck shooting at objects floating in the water.

When chopper spotted a distress signal coming from a nearby island? Luffy and Sanji both appear out of nowhere! And Luffy ordered to go and investigate, so as your ship docked to help out, whoever was shipwrecked, but turned out the whole thing was a trap, buy the foxy pirates who wanted a rematch of the davy back fight?

"What's a davy back fight?" Franky asked, Usopp explained what the Davy backfight was and about how luffy and the others competed in the games long before Franky, Brook and you joined the crew (poor chopper, he is still traumatized from the last davy back fight 🥺)

"It does look like fun, but I'm not interested, so if you guys need me, I'll be back at the ship." You said, but before you headed back to the ship, you felt the hairs on your back stand on end and feeling like something wasn't right? So you decided to stay and watch the games from the sidelines.

However, somehow, during the eating contest your crew soon found out that one of the members, a foxy crew turned out to be a marine advral and planned this whole thing to defeat the straw hats both Sanji and Zoro were taken, along with two members of foxy's crew, you were thankful that Luffy was all right but you worried for the other two members of your crew.

you split your group into two teams Brook and Chopper stay on the island to find the antidote while your group went off to go rescue Zoro And Sanji meanwhile, on the way to the island where your friends were being held captive. Foxy offered some creepy looking buttons, of course, nobody wanted them except Luffy, so you took a more classy approach.

"Here foxy, i will take those." You said, as you gently took all of the buttons, then he walked over to Cacho, who had a box full of them, and you dropped all of the buttons back into the box with the rest of them, then you took the box from Cacho and walked over to the side the ship then threw the box overboard into the ocean.

Nami and the others were relieved, and thank you for getting rid of them help Luffy, chuckled, As he saw the disappointed look on foxy's face, Luffy always did love how a savage you could be for good reasons but hearing his gentle chuckle made you blush, once you reached the island were your are being held captive,

"Let's play a game shall we?" (Okay mister JIGSAW!😂) The marine adverel's voice echoes through the speakers that our hidden in some of the rock towers around the island, the enemy explains that in one of the rock towers has your friends trapped inside and within the rock towers were built in canons and an army of marine soldiers?

In the center of the island there was a geyser that blows out steam? Filled with seawater. That created a creepy eerie fog surrounding the island but as you're distracted by the fog some vines wrapped itself around Robin. In some of the marine soldiers came and collected her, one by one members of your group disappears? All of the vines around the island we're controlled by seawater. Which rendered part of your group powerless.

Once Luffy found the rest of his friends, Usopp and the others warned him to stay back due to some traps, but knowing your stubborn captain, he refused to give up to rescue his friends but you yourself remained hidden from the enemy. Awaiting your captain to give out a signal before you all got separated, Luffy had you hide out of sight from the enemy. To plan a surprise attack in case anything went wrong, plus you were immune to the sea prism stones and to the vines being controlled by seawater because of your tribes ancestral abilities.

After Luffy fell into one of the traps and foxy was rendered powerless because of the seawater in the fog, as the enemy was gloating about his plans succeeding, your captain reminded him of something?

"The joke's on you i also had a little maneuver plan of my own?" Luffy said, and he whistled the enemy, looking a little bit confused, wondering what he meant by that before he began to strike at Luffy. Suddenly, the enemy freezed as he heard the sound of a crying wolf howling from a far distance? Cacho who had a gun pointing at Foxy looked around in a panic? Nami, who is also laying on the ground, looks around and she smiles.

Everyone, hears a growling sound coming closer to them. The marine advral looked up and saw a pair of glowing eyes approaching them. He shout for Cacho to shoot at whatever creature it was. Just then you jumped onto his side and you bit down the gun in half with your teeth leaving the broken pieces on the ground and you stared face to face with your enemy.

"Hell yeah that's our girl!" Usopp shouted with excitement, "Y/n what a relief you made it right on time!" Nami giggled happily, you appeared in your werewolf form standing in between your friends and the marine adveral in front of you was a hole where Luffy fell "i knew I can count on you y/n, keep them busy while I try to get out of here." Luffy shouted. "You got it captain." You growled, as you stare down at the villain in front of you,

Cacho was shaking in fear as he backed away slowly. Foxy, on the other hand was also shocked at first, but now his eyes sparkled with amazement. "Luffy, you didn't tell me that you had a werewolf In your crew!" He said with excitement in his voice.

As you began to fight. And fended off the enemies attacks the villain used one of his attacks that struck you in the force of the energy of the attack cause you to fly backwards across the field and it slammed you against the hard stone right above, where Robin was tied up you let out a painful wine once you fell to the ground. "Y/N! Are you alright?" She said with worry in her voice.

You slowly start to get back up, " Don't worry, i'll be okay." You said, you stand up to fight again. Luckily, after sometime chopper and Brook finally arrived to the island to give sanji and zoro. The antidote that chopper made for them, once the two of them were back to normal, and everybody we're fighting an army of Marines. Wants, the enemies were defeated and your crew escaped.

Split head was happily reunited. With his crew. After going back to your ships and parted ways with the foxy pirates, while everybody was heading to the kitchen on the sunny, when suddenly luffy extended his arms wrapping themselves around your waist and pulling you towards him in a great big hug "Thanks for all your help back there y/n i couldn't have done it without you." He said and do you get giggled,

"It was the least I could do. Besides, you're my captain after all, so of course I do anything to protect the ones I love." You replied, giving him a light smile. He gently took off his hat and placed it on top of your head before leaning in and placed his lips on yours, in a surprisingly soft but tender kiss it was short and sweet and when you pulled apart "I love you too y/n." He chuckled, you feel the heat, raise as your face turns pink. And you gently? Pull his hat down your face to hide the blush. He lets out a light laugh at the site of you.

"Now come on, let's go eat I'm starving." He said, as he grabbed your hand and started pulling you towards the kitchen to join the others.

( I hoped you enjoyed it. This is my first one piece story and I tried my best? now, i bid you all farewell until next time. Have a lovely day/evening/night😁)

#one piece x reader #luffy headcanons #luffy x reader

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for-a-longlongtime · 4 months ago

Text

WIP on Wednesday Thursday

Well, first of all, my WIP folder is currently looking like this:

But fuck it, we ball right?

I got tagged by @din-cognito and @avastrasposts this week, and @the-blind-assassin-12 and @lotusbxtch last week, so I've got some catching up to do! I've been all over the place working on different docs, so you're getting a few tidbits this week.

I've posted snippets of this before (and lo! a hozier title! I'm gonna have to change that though because the story ended up going differently than planned), and after it having been on hold for months, the pieces are coming together at last.

let me wrap my teeth around the world (working title) | Santiago x Frankie “You think we did the right thing there?” Santiago says, staring at the ceiling as he avoids Frankie's eyes. Unsure he really wants to hear the answer, because of how likely it is that he is the only person who can’t answer that with a decisive yes. Fish was the only one on their team - besides Tom - who'd had a family to take care of, who needed that money probably more than any of them did because of his pilot license being suspended. “I mean... Following his lead with the money.” No answer. The deafening silence lasts for much too long. Santi grimaces as he closes his eyes. Shit. Why did he even ask? He keeps fucking up like this.

Next we've got a WIP that I haven't worked on in a bit (it wanted to go on break, bummerrr) but that I'm hoping to pick up very soon.

Untitled | Reynaldo x Matthew It’s those large hands that draw Matt’s attention first. That, and the golden chain partially but-not-quite hiding under that checkered golf shirt, glistening every now and then in the bright afternoon sun. It’s almost as bright as the gleam in Sophie’s eyes when she throws back a shot and listens to the older man introduce himself as Reynaldo. Matt is only vaguely aware of the prepared talk that the man launches into, a few words standing out, such as ‘exclusive members only’ and ‘the best golf club in all of Arizona’. Things that everybody wanted to hear, and that gave Sophie all the more opportunity to coo at the man how this was ‘one of the best premium golf clubs’ she’d ever been at. It probably isn’t all that premium though, considering the Scotts and Dale had been able to book this place on a budget. And truth be told, it’s still unclear to Matt why they are here on a ‘vow renewal bachelor staycation’, which seemed a contradiction on its own. Or even why Sophie showed up here, acting like one of the guys, just long enough until she found someone who was willing to give her the attention she was clearly looking for. He’d seen the pattern before, especially with the girls on the Kel-squad. None of that matters though, he tries to remind himself as they make their way up to the golf course. He’s simply glad to get away from Kelsey for a couple of days - not just for some peace and quiet, but also so he doesn’t have to wonder if she’s talking to Domingo every time she smiles at an incoming message on her phone.

Finally, this last one is still in the VERY early stages, but ngl... I'm excited. Thank you to the folks who encouraged me to keep going with it! This is hella out of my comfort zone but what the hell, that's where the fun is, right? This one is going to more filth than I'll probably be able to shove into an one shot... so it may end up becoming two or three parts. We'll see.

for glory (working title) | Harry Castillo Harry is speechless, shock painted over his features, and it takes him a moment to find his voice. "You wouldn't dare to," he finally manages to say, and what had previously been surprise in his eyes has now flipped into unmistakeable rage. "Mmm, is that so, Harry? What - you think I've got morals or something?"

EDIT: WAIT!! I forgot to add one final excerpt! This is from a yet to be decided chapter from Joel and Marcus Moreno' story. I spent way too much time trying to find the right face claim moments for them at different ages, and this is what I settled on for their mid-twenties:

Joel in his mid-twenties (a.k.a. Zach Wellison in Brothers & Sisters)

Marcus Moreno in his late twenties (a.k.a. looking like Comandante Veracruz from the Burn Notice movie).

Yes, I'm as shocked as y'all are about the latter, but I promise it'll make sense. As for the excerpt:

Untitled series | Joel Miller x Marcus Moreno Marcus folds his arms as he leans back against the wall, looking every bit the charismatic guy most people know him to be. But Joel has known him a long time and can see where the varnish has cracked, and the parts he so desperately tries to cover up. "So you don't like it. How I look. You don't like me anymore," Marcus says after a moment, and there’s something about all that combativeness on display - as well as the bitter irony of those words - that hits Joel much harder than he was prepared for. He doesn’t have the same defense system that Marcus clearly is equipped with; the mask that he can put on and off so easily after years of practice. So he just shakes his head. "Think it's been too long since you've had someone push back against you, M." "The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Joel tries to hide his sigh by drinking from his coffee, but the beverage has gone cold, the stale taste of it now bitter on his tongue in a way that feels oddly specific to this situation. "Don't pick a fight with me because you're unhappy, Marcus," he says softly.

I know a lot of y'all already posted a WIP Wednesday, so I'm just gonna link a couple of folks, no pressure as always (apologies if you've already made your weekly WIP update):

@perotovar @sin-djarin @lotusbxtch @mountainsandmayhem @qveerthe0ry

@letsgobarbs @gothcsz @milla-frenchy @guiltyasdave @oliveksmoked

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#wip wednesday #wip #my writing #pedro pascal characters

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authorsofghosts · 8 months ago

Text

Restlessness | Peter Maximoff x Reader | Pt. 1

Author's Notes: everyone blame (or thank) @genderqueerbarbie777 for this, they made me like Pietro before I even met him in any media. also surprise bestie !!!

Summery: Peter's sleep schedule is... borderline non existent. You try to give him some of your own coping skills, things you've learned over the years of also dealing with mutation-induced insomnia.

Themes: Fluff, Friends-to-Lovers, Mutual Crush, Mutual Pining, Slowburn, Cussing, Labs mention, Mental Health Talk, Peter steals stuff (offscreen), Peter's worst day ever (/j), R has insomnia, R is a mutant (no powers written), R is a Student at the school (older, over 18), R scolds Peter.

Word Count: a lot. (4.8k)

"Hey, wait up!" You call out to your friend, who quickly zooms to your side with his signature goofy grin.

"Yeah?" He asks, looking at you, eying the book in your hand, "What's the journal for?"

"I- Peter!" You're baffled. You knew that he was usually a snooping kind but when he did it to you, it was embarrassing. You shake it off, clearing your throat, "It's for you. You saw it was blank, huh?"

He nods, taking it from your hands and flipping the pages with his thumb. He looks up from the book towards you and grins again, "That's sweet, but I'm not much of a writer."

"Yeah, but I thought maybe it could help with your... uh, insomnia?" You question yourself, looking at him again as he holds the black leather book in his hands, thumbs rubbing the texture. Maybe it was a stupid idea, but you had to stand your ground. "Sometimes journaling can help calm your mind, make you sleepy."

"Yeah?" He smirks, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you into a hug. "Thanks. I'll give it a try." He pulls away, looking down at an non existent watch and smiling, "I gotta get going now, have fun with your... whatever you're doing."

And with that, he was gone, but not before leaving something in your hand. A piece of paper with a poorly drawn alligator mouth with the words "Later" in it. It was cute. You found yourself staring at it for a little longer than you should.

Later, indeed, you saw your friend again. Surprisingly, in the gardens. He turns and looks at you, zooming up next to you and smiling widely. "Heya. Whatcha doin'?"

"I was gonna go for a walk, but maybe with you it'll turn into a run." You joke, looking down to see the journal in his hand. "You drawing or something?" As soon as you say that, the journal disappears from his hand.

"Uh, I don't know what you're talking about." He laughs, poking you on the head, "You going stir crazy in the mansion, yeah? Wanna run to the mall or something? My treat." He snakes an arm under yours and holds your head, and suddenly, without even letting you answer, you're sitting at a table in the food court of the mall. You go to say something but he cuts you off, "One second-"

And for only two or so seconds, Peter is gone. You groan, staring at the chair, waiting for him to come back. He returns with two large cups of soda, sitting one in front of you. "You pay for these?"

"Well- no. But I mean, the prices are so jacked up here." He laughs, leaning into the table you both sat at. "I don't mind it, if you don't. I'll go get some of Beast's cash and we can-"

"Peter! I'm fine with you doing that here," You start, holding your cup in your hand, pointing it slightly at him, "but don't you dare think I'll let you steal from Hank."

"Aw, you have a soft spot for the blue fur ball, eh?" He teases, rolling his eyes and sipping his soda. He watches as you shift in your sit, eyes studying every minuscule movement.

"Yeah, may I do, and? You can't just be taking from your friends, Peter." You look at him, watching as his eyes dart up to meet yours. He chews on the plastic straw for a moment, looking to the side and thinking.

He shrugs, "I guess you're right. But hey, don't tell me you haven't at least thought about how much money that rich guy Charles has got." He wasn't wrong, you two weren't the only ones to think about it either. Rumors around the school, mostly stupid ones, were always about the money that kept the school up and going. But you didn't really care for that kind of gossip. "He's not exactly a millionaire, you know?"

"Change the topic." You say before sipping your drink, tapping your nails against the grody table you both sat at. He nods, laughing softly at your tone. He looks around and grins.

"Arcade?" He asks, nodding towards the bright lights of the games not so far down from the food court. You smile widely, a strange feeling in your heart. Is this a date? Is he taking you, you of all people, on a date? Surely not.

You stand up and push your chair in, waiting for him to do the same. He slaps his legs as he stands up, grabbing his drink again and wrapping an arm around you. "I'll take that as a 'yes', then."

"Yeah, show me your 'amazing video game skills'. I still kick your ass in anything you can't cheat at."

"Oh, you're on!" He says before running forward, at a normal human pace. You follow, laughing softly as he looks back at you. You both make it to the arcade, looking around for the first game to play. Peter already spotted his favorite, but knew if he choose it before you could make a decision, he'd look bad. So he let you pick. You grab his hand and slide into a booth cabinet, the screen in front of you flashing images of gunning down monsters. You look at him for approval and he nods.

Peter digs in his jacket pocket for a second before pulling out a roll of quarters, putting a finger to his lips in a 'Ssh'ing motion. You gasp, wondering where he even got them from. Before you can even ask him, the game blares to a start. He places your hands on the controller gun and smirks.

The game is fun, I mean, of course it is. You choose it cause you knew you'd like it. The competitive nature of both you and Peter rang out in the banter, but also the brilliant teamwork. You laugh and fight together. For an arcade game, it's really good. And you go through at least half of the roll of quarters to play the whole thing, continuing the story line and getting the high score in each.

Peter smiles at you after putting both your initials on the scoreboard and leans back, shoulder brushing against yours. "Why didn't you tell me you're a great shot?"

"I did, you just didn't believe me." You laugh, leaning into his touch. You both sit there, your cheeks heating up as you realize your proximity. You quickly crawl out of game, stretching slightly as you look around the Arcade. Peter stands next to you, following your gaze.

"What now, Sargent?" He chuckles, putting his hands on your shoulders with a slightly rough plop. You laugh with him, shrugging. "Pac-man it is then." He grins, pushing you towards the row of arcade cabinets to the left. He leans against the wall and slides a quarter into the slot, quickly making work of the game because of his powers. You watch, not surprised in the least, seeing him do this multiple times before.

If anything, it was entertaining. His hands moving impossibly fast and he chews on his cheek, sticking his tongue out in focus. You felt that strange flutter in your chest once again, realizing what it was now. Were you really falling for the dumb speedster, or did you just heavily care for his well being?

You related to Peter, both being mutants and both of your mutations causing sleep issues. You never really told him what kept you from sleeping, but that didn't stop him from telling you, yapping about every detail as he sat on the couch, legs criss cross as he holds the toes of his boot, swaying back and forth.

He can't stop moving, ever. If he stops moving, then everything slows down, and he can see everything fall into place. His mind is constantly racing, too, to try and combat the slowness of everything. If he could, he'd just sleep in micro bursts, but if he falls asleep, everything goes back to normal. He's done it before, falling asleep in the halls because everything is so slow and so peaceful, immediately falling over and drooling onto the floor.

Watching him beat the game and cheer, you see the tiredness behind his excitement. The eye bags under his eyes, the way his eyes slowly blink to give him just enough rest to keep going. You sigh and lean into him, "When's the last time you slept?"

He looks at you, eyes widening at the question and your proximity to him. "Well, uh... I don't know... maybe... Friday?" He shrugs, pulling you closer and ruffling your hair, "Why? Worried about me, hm?"

"Peter, it's Monday."

"It is?!" He says, faux surprise. "I know, I know. I just, uh... can't, ya know?" He laughs, looking around for something to distract you both. He finds the prize stand and quickly counts tickets. "786. I can get uh... not anything cool, really."

"Then let's keep playing, dingus." You punch his arm before dragging him towards more games, trying to find something he can win a lot of tickets in. You push him in front of a simple, large jackpot game. "You got this one, right?" You tease, smiling at him as his eyes scan the machine.

He nods, clearing his throat as he looks it over more, "Yeah, yeah I can get the jackpot no prob, doll." He shimmies a quarter out of the almost empty roll and puts it in the machine, leaving you stunned at the last word he said. 'Doll'? That one's new.

To Peter, everything slows down as he focuses on the spinning wheel watch each tick move clockwise. He smirks, eyes not leaving the lit up indicator. It's the first time he's seen a machine like this, actually, so he was amused to watch it go. He quickly pressed the button as it landed on the bright green panel that said 'JACKPOT!'.

You squealed as the tickets started to flow out of the ticket slot, watching the counter rise up to the big, big number of 500 tickets. You kneel down, collecting all of them so that they aren't on the floor, giggling happily as you look up at him. "Knew you could do it."

The words make Peter flustered, taken aback slight by them. It wasn't that they were unexpected, just... different. He looks down at you, leaning against the arcade cabinet and watching the tickets funnel out of the slot. He can't help but let time slow around him so he can stay in the moment longer. Your eyes looking up at him, your smile, everything. He felt at peace, and God, did he need some peace in his life. He cleared his throat as you stood up, the bunches of tickets in your fist. "Anytime." He said calmly, thinking about the response while he left his eyes to wander over you.

You both trotted over to the prize table after he did the same number a few more times (20. He did it 20 times, even after you told him to stop.), racking up your ticket pool to a solid 5 digit number. The ticket counting machine almost breakdown on you both. This caused you both to laugh softly, leaning against each other as you walked over to the prize table. Peter slid the ticket slip to the worker, who looked at him with narrow eyes. You knew what for.

"What did you do now?" The man behind the counter asks, looking down at the slip. "Ten thousand, seven hundred and eighty six fricking tickets. How?"

"I have my ways," Peter laughed, blowing across his knuckles as he shock them in front of himself. He looked over at you with a smirk. "That new games easy, might wanna turn up the difficulty."

"You got ten thousand tickets from that spinning wheel?" The worker eyed you both, raising an eyebrow. "You sure you and your friend there did just spend God knows how many hours here in the last few days to crank up this number?"

You laugh softly, shaking your head. Peter spoke up again, "No, mister Dan. I haven't been at the mall since last week, you can check your cameras." He pointed around to each of them before turning back to him. "So you gonna give us the alligator and crocodile plushies or what?"

Your ears perked up, remembering the doodle from earlier that day. You pulled it out and looked at it before shoving it back into your jacket pocket carefully. You walked over and followed your friend's gaze to the two stuffed animals connected by the hands. You tilted your head, trying to read the tag before it was blocked by Dan, the arcade worker.

"Here. Have fun." He grumbled.

"Hey, hey, no, I still have seven hundred and eighty-six tickets. The matching bracelets and the candy bundle, por favor, senor." Peter smiled, leaning over the glass and pointing at what he wanted. You watched the rest of the conversation, taking a step back and looking at the note and plushies again. It was funny, like he had planned it all along. You weren't sure if he did, it wouldn't be that far fetched, would it?

Peter turns back around to you and waves his hand in front of you. "Hello, earth to planet you, what's up?" He looks at you and then your hand. He laughs softly, grabbing the note from your hand and looking at it. "You kept it?"

You tilted your head, looking at him. "Yeah, of course. I mean, that was only a few hours ago anyways." You rolled your lips into your mouth, biting them softly before smiling and grabbing the bracelets from his hand. Each had a picture of the plushes, one alligator, and the other a crocodile. It was cute, the little doodle of the alligator on your note was clearly based off of the bracelet. "Who's is which?" You twirl the rubber bracelets in your fingers, smiling as you look at him.

"You get the Gator, obviously." He smiles, using his super speed to slip the bracelet on your wrist then holding his next to yours. You both laugh, the connected plush animals falling to the ground as Peter drops them. He picks them up and looks at the stitches that connects them. "Yeah, I can get a seam ripper and unconnect 'em, huh? So we can each have one."

You smile, agreeing with him, "Yeah, I'll help you so you don't fuck it up." You grabbed the plushies and wrapped them in your arms, sinking your face into the soft fabric. "Oh these are surprisingly well made, real soft. Like those Valentine's Day stuffies."

You both freeze at your words, both stopping right outside the arcade and into the mall. He wrapped an arm around you, looking around before grabbing your head and giving you a heads up before zooming back to the mansion. As you got the the front door, Beast and Charles were on the front porch. Peter hissed out a curse as both the men looked at you two.

"Have fun, Maximoff?" Hank said, looking at him with a slight tinge of anger. You don't know if that was from the escapade you two had at the mall or if it was because of something Peter did before. Before you could ask if you were in trouble, the convenient mind reader cut you off.

"You're not in trouble, but he is. Come on," Charles said, turning his chair around and opening the door, waiting for you to go in first. You knew you were going to get a stern talking to, and you hated it. There was nothing worse than being scolded by a British man that could see your every thought.

You took the walk of shame to the Professor's office, sitting down in the chair with the stuffed animals in your arms still. You knew he could tell you were afraid of getting in trouble, but that didn't keep him from doing what he had to. He gave you a warning, something he said Peter had way too many of, and this was only your second.

"Your other warning, if you remember correctly, was because of something similar with your buddy, yeah?" Charles said, looking at you. You nodded, biting the inside of your lip as you recounted the time you and Peter had went up to the roof past curfew, just to hang out a little longer. It was something anyone would do really, to chill under the night sky with their best friend. "I understand your relationship with Mister Maximoff is-"

"Relationship?" You spoke, looking up from your feet for the first time since you stepped foot in the room, "We're just friend, Professor." You looked at the bracelet around your wrist and the stuffed animals in your arms as you started to laugh slightly. "We're just friends." You repeated yourself, trying to convince yourself as well.

"Oh." was the last thing that Charles wanted to leave his mouth, eyes widening as he realizes he said it out loud. He clears his throat and tries to save himself, "Still, you are one of our school's smartest kids, you can't be acting out like this. Again, there is no punishment for you. It will, however, go on your record." He turned, pulling open a filing cabinet and taking your file out. "I'll see you in class tomorrow. Please, behave yourself so I don't have to before then."

With that, you got up and left, the room silent with only the sound of the clock above the door's second hand ticking. You weren't upset at Peter, of course not, that's your best friend, but you were mad about something. You couldn't figure it out, but you stormed to your room and locked the door, groaning as you threw yourself, and the plush animals, onto your bed. You looked at the two plushes as you laid on your back, eyeing the seam that kept them together. Maybe you should make Peter do it, after all, he got you both in trouble.

It was supposed to be a quick trip to the mall. Nothing else. That turned sour as soon as he laid his eyes on the arcade. Peter wanted to win for you. He wanted to get the matching bracelets and stuffed animals, so that maybe you'd see that he cared about you. He just never really knew how to express that.

"Look, Hank, you can skip the whole speech of having the behave if I'm gonna stay at the mansion, I get it just-" You goes to walk into the mansion and Hank's hand stops him.

"I'm sorry, Peter. You're kind of on your last warning." Hank said, his voice rough. Peter looked at him, his eyes wide.

"No, I mean, what is this, like... 25? 35...? There's no way it's more than that, man, I've basically been a saint since that time on the roof-"

"I know you have, but still. You can't keep getting away with whatever you want. You gotta promise me something, alright?" The two looked at each other before Hank continued, "This is the last stunt you're doing. You're an X-Man now, Peter. You can't keep acting like the world doesn't have consequences, and you can't take someone down with you."

"Down with me? Hank, Charles isn't writing them up, right? Listen, I'll take double the warnings if that's what it takes to keep their record clean. I didn't even properly ask, I mean, I just kinda grabbed 'em and zoomed to the mall, it's my fault, really." Peter rants, talking expressively with his hands as he always did, but this time he was stuttering and stammering as his face heated up with embarrassment. He quickly covers it and groans into his palms. "Fuck!"

"First of all, language," Hank laughs out, shaking his head, "Second of all, this isn't their first warning. You know that. And Charles would never do that, you both broke the rules. If it was brought up, even if not verbally, the Professor would probably not care to begin with. He's harsh on the rules, bud."

"I know! I know, it's just, I didn't think we'd be gone for that long!" Peter looked at Hank, a wide smile on his face as he laughed, "I thought we'd be in and out, but honestly, that arcade grabbed way too much of my attention. And they kept egging me on to keep playing, so I decided to-"

"Get enough tickets to buy the plush reptiles? Yeah, real smooth." Hank laughed. "You know that's gonna look a little suspicious, right?"

"Suspicious? What are you talking ab-" Peter blushed deeper as he saw the look on his friend's face, "I do not have a crush on them!" He stomped, zipping around the porch in anger. "Okay, maybe, but shut up!" He continued the little bit of a temper tantrum on the porch and when he finally got out all the frustration he stopped in front of Hank. "What do I gotta do to clean my record? Anything, Beast, anything at all I'll-"

The next day, you walk into one of your classes and see Peter standing at the front, a look of defeat wiping away as soon as he saw you. "Hey!" He said, running up to you, unusual as he'd almost zoom up on you and hug you whatever way he thought was funniest.

"What are you doing here? Don't you have like Danger Room duty or something?" You asked, looking at him with a little bit of worry because of what happened the day before.

"Oh, yeah, that's after this though, I kinda owe one, or well, a lot, to Charles for letting me crash here and, well, uh.... This is one of the things I have to do to scrub clean that 'bad boy' record. Did you know I have the most warnings? Yesterday was the 50th."

Your eyes widened at his words, blinking a few times. You laugh as you realize a new addition to his usually terrible fashion chooses. "What's with the collar?"

Peter sighed, groaning as he fixed his jacket to try and hide it, "It's supposed to repress my mutated gene, in turn making it to where I can't speed through the chores I'm supposed to do." He says, clearly mocking either Charles or Hank.

You move his jacket to look at it again before smiling up at him, "Well, don't let me distract you, Mister Maximoff." You said before patting his cheek and going to sit in your chair. You looked back at him and saw his bright, goofy smile, which warmed your heart, making getting through the rest of the day a lot easier.

Peter slowly, oh so painstakingly slow, went around the day, cleaning the mansion head to toe, teaching some as a substitute, and helping Hank with his day to day. He was basically, in his words, a 'paper pusher' the whole day. He did mundane things when he could be training to be a better X-Man. It annoyed him, but if it meant being able to stay at the mansion, being a X-Man, and staying close to you, he'd do it ten times!

The most annoying part, though, was that he couldn't use his powers. This also caused the day to seem a lot faster, since he didn't space out and slow down time accidentally. As soon as the last of the classes ended, he walked up to Hank, "Alright, take it off now, please? Please, please, please!" He pointed at that damned neck collar and grumbled, shaking his hand rapidly as he waited for Hank, who was going as slow as he possible could to watch Peter's reaction.

"Alright, I get it. World's fastest mutant misses his powers. Thanks for being a test subject." Hank laughed softly, unclasping the collar from Peter. He watched was the younger man speed around the lab, making sure not to upset any of the stacks of papers around them both.

"Thank you! Oh my GOD, you have no idea what my day was like. Wait- did you say test subject?"

"Well, yeah, who do you think developed the technology?" Hank laughed, sitting back down and looking at Peter. "It was just a small thing I worked on to past the time."

"That thing could've killed me?!" Peter exclaimed.

"No, I tested it myself before, but because my mutation is, well, uh... physical, it didn't do anything to me. You have an actual power, beside turning blue."

"Oh..." was all Peter could say, staring into space for a moment, "Alright, but that means, my day is done? I'm free from doing this again right?"

"You think one day of chores is enough to repay all the broken rules?" Hank laughed softly, "Try a whole week."

"A week?!" Peter groaned, falling to his knees dramatically, "You're gonna kill me, Beast..."

"Well, that's not the plan." Hank chuckles, turning back to whatever he was working on. "Go. I'm sure they'll wanna hear all about your day."

Peter's eyes lit up at those words, had forgotten you existed for the last few hours. He zoomed out of the Lab and up to the main floor of the mansion, jumping back and forth eagerly in the elevator as he planned out how to surprise you. You probably hadn't made it to your room yet, so if he slipped in and stood there til you walked in, that would be a shocker, right? But first he had to find you.

With a quick lap of the Mansion, he found you walking up the stairs to your room. He smiled as he passed you, the quick air making you groan as you realized what happened. You run up the stairs faster and open the door to find Peter standing there, looking at a nonexistent watch and tapping his foot.

"Heyyyy," He said, turning to you with his arms open, waiting for you to run into them. But you didn't. You sat on your bed with a groan as you walked past him. "What? What happened, why are you bummed? You were fine this morning, who bummed you out? Do you want me to beat 'em up?" He asked a hundred questions a second as he walked over to you, sitting on the foot of your bed.

"No, I'm just tired. Don't get into any fights, please." You groan, laying on your side as you looked at him. You eyes brightened as you realized you actually had something for him, "Oh! Right, look!" You got up quickly and reached under your bed, pulling out the alligator and the crocodile plushes from under your bed, which were now separated.

Peter's eyes lit up and he grabs the gator from your hand and beams a bright smile, "Oh my goodness, you did it?! You didn't, like, rip them to shreds because you were mad at me?" He laughed hugging you tightly.

"No, what the hell do I look like?" You laugh, a little out of breath as he squeeze you. He pulled away, letting you breath and continue. "You're my best friend, man, I'd never do that to you. especially when we got in trouble for rescuing these from big nasty mister Dan, huh?"

Peter laughed, falling back onto your bed and holding the plush alligator to his chest. He had forgotten about the bracelet around his wrist and his eyes gleamed as he saw it. "Well, speaking about that, uh, getting in trouble?" He looked at you, his face softening, making you know his next words.

"You don't need to apologize, Peter." You quickly cut him off, mirroring his position with the crocodile against your chest, laying back next to him. "Just, uh.. promise me something?"

"Yeah, yeah, anything, what's up?" Peter turns to the side, looking over at you as he props his head up with his elbow. You look really nice, and he couldn't get that thought to go away. There was something different about today, seeing the things he had done, bringing you down with him, getting you in trouble with Charles. It made him love you even more, he had carelessly kept living the way he had before meeting you. He realized his thoughts and gaze caused everything around him to freeze as you hadn't replied to him yet. He shook himself free, looking at you, "Hm?"

"Use the journal. Maybe it'll help keep you in check, too, yeah?" You ask, putting out your pinky finger. He had completely forgotten about it, honestly, but if he was gonna make a promise to you, he'd have to keep it. He nodded and made the pinky promise with you. You both laid there for a moment before bursting into nervous laughter, sitting up and continuing with the both of your night.

97 notes · View notes

tan1shere · 1 year ago

Text

Changes pt 3

Ellie Williams x female reader !

A/n: finally what you've all been waiting for, I hope you all enjoy this was such a fun story to write. I feel like I wrote this well, especially the anxiety as I suffer hugely from it, a few techniques in there of how I deal with it if you also struggle <3

Summary: Ellies the bad girl in the school but she takes a liking to the reader, everyone's worried but the reader somehow changes her for the better ... or does she ?

Warnings: MDNI. Smut at end !! Implied rape from a past relationship, anxiety, pet names, SOFT DOM ELS ! mentions of drinking and I think that's it :)

Text: orange-ellie pink-reader blue-angela

The red text is flashbacks which is near the end !!

Masterlist || pt 1 ! , pt 2 !

"It's all an act. Dont fall for any of it."

...

"She's gunna hurt you Y/n."

...

"I'm not a completely great person, maybe I'm working on it I dunno. But I don't date. I can't it's just not in me."

...

"Don't start anything with her, you're too pure for her antics."

...

"She's not changing Y/n, she will hurt you."

...

"We warned you."

It was spiraling in your brain, everyone's words including hers. You felt foolish for thinking you could change her in any way. An absolute fool. Why couldn't you of listened to everyone. All you had was hope. But that died that night, that hope was officially gone for good. You had been curled up in bed all of your Saturday. You hated to admit it but you were crying. Laying in your bed with cold tears staining your face. You had come home from that party in the exact same state.

"Oh, babe.." you heard Angela's voice softly say, bringing you into her embrace. You sunk into the feeling letting out tears. "What's up?" She asks pulling back a little. "Y-you were right. I'm such a fucking idiot." You sob. She was confused. "Woah what, slow down." Her hand rubs on your arms, bringing you with her to sit on the couch. "Me and Ellie. Well we were dating in secret, I'm so sorry for that. But we aren't anymore." She changes her expression to a more serious one. "That fucking wh-" But you didn't even want her to finish that. You knew Ellie had hurt you but it was fairly new, you still had some love for her. As troublesome that may be it was nothing but the truth. You had to get over that tho. You had to.

You were laying on your side, still mulling over those same sentences over and over again. It was like a tiny devil in your brain telling you 'you fucked up' but you soon hear your door creaking open. "I made you some sammies." Angie came in with a sweet smile. Your back was currently facing her and you didn't make any effort in changing that as you let out a dry hm. She lets out a sigh. "I won't watch you starve because of some silly girl who's hurt you. Please." You turn over looking at her. "I'll eat, just not as hungry right now." She walks over setting the plate down on your bedside table, moving to sit on your bed. "You're strong ok? I know you will get past this." You give her a tiny nod. "I might just take a nap." She nods in agreement going to leave. "Good idea."

A few minutes go by when you hear the door. You couldn't make out the voice so you continue to rest on your side. Holding the drawing she did of you in hand, staring at it. All of this, everything just wasted. You couldn't bare to look at it any longer, chucking it in a random direction, deciding to get some rest.

Ellies pov.

The night before:

"Oh this one's going to be a good one I can feel it." I say, examining the crowds of people. It was booming, that's for sure. I look at her, she looked so effortlessly pretty. It stunned me. "You're so silly." She speaks. "Come on let's get a drink." I then say, grabbing her wrist and dragging her gently with me. Her smile was brightening every bad thing in this world. "I'll be the sober help." I smile at her. "Not even one love?" She just shakes her head. "Alright, just make sure you're comfortable yeah?"

It had been maybe an hour into the party and I didn't feel completely with it. Y/n was sitting comfortably in my lap, just looking so beautiful. "Mmm I want another." I slur. And there it was, her gorgeous giggle. "You're so gone Els-" "your laughs so pretty, makes my heart warm." I blurt out suddenly. "Well that's very kind of you." She replies. But as I keep looking at her I could tell something was off, or was I daydreaming? Was the alcohol just messing with my brain. I decide to ignore it, not in my right mind. "Can you pretty please get me another drink my beautiful girlfriend." I watch as she smiles at me, probably replying but the music drowns out not only my thoughts but any formable words. Feeling her get off and leave, I could feel my brain going fuzzy too. But deep down something just didn't feel 100%. I eventually turn my head to look at her, noticing Kenny speaking to her.

That boils my blood. Why can't he just mind his own business? Stop it Ellie, you haven't been angry like this in forever, don't break that streak now. She comes back over handing me my drink, I give her a mumbled thank you. "Was he hassling you?" "Who, Kenny? Nothing I can't handle my love." As I look at her I notice her posture shift, i knew it wasn't her getting comfortable on my lap. Because if anything she looked uncomfortable.

"You alright mama?" I decide to just ask. "I'm just going to go for a pee." She states, beginning to get off. "Oh.. alright love." I'd be lying If I said I wasn't worried, but the other half of me felt dizzy, making me forget slightly what was going on. I shake my head going to get up and get another drink. When I eventually hear shuffling next to me. I turn my attention to see a dirty blonde girl. "Hey." She gently says. It takes me a moment as confusion washes over me. "Hi?" Silence. "You don't remember me?" More silence. Because no, I didn't know who the hell she was, until I take a better look. "Sophy." She smiles. "Ah so you do remember." I somehow felt awkward. "Uhmm yeah." Still really confused on why she's even talking to me. "I missed you." Stunned. "I- huh?" Now I was really baffled. "But- i kinda just left ya." It was bad, but it was the truth, why would she miss me. "Yeah well. You were still hot." I furrow my brows at a loss of words. "I- wha-" When I suddenly feel her lips on mine, I felt all too sober right then as my eyes widen. But before I could push her away- "Ehem." I hear someone clear their throat, I don't even need to turn around to know who it was.

"Fuck.." I mutter, slowly turning to face her. "Wait baby no i-" I began but suddenly my freshly poured drink was being dumped on me. I sigh. "No." She points at me. "Ellie what the actual fuck." I stare at her, saying nothing. Not even knowing what to say. Fuck, it's like it's happening all over again, speak you idiot. My eyes widen as she starts to cry.. ive never seen her cry before, safe to say I never ever wanted to witness it again. "Y/n no no please-" "After everything we've been through, after what you told me. They were wrong. You cant change for anyone. I should've listened to them." I immediately shake my head. It was all wrong. "Don't say that please- it was an accident fuck- she just-" But she cuts me off, shoving the cup into my chest. "Shut up Ellie." And I listen. I couldn't fuck things up any more then i have. Right...

It was silent, after a second or two she soon goes to leave. "Wait-" I start, but it was no use. She was gone in the swarm of people. "Fuck." I curse under my breath. I couldn't let this happen, not her. Not someone who I know I've fallen in love with. God Ellie you should've just told her. I wanted to make this right, after all she was my everything. I stride through the crowds when I spot her. I notice she isn't alone. God, does Kenny ever just fuck off. There's that anger again, but nothing was stopping me this time. I March on over there, pushing him to the ground ignoring all the fallen gasps. "Ellie what the fu-" "He touched you!" I retort. "You bitch." He starts to speak, getting off the floor and making an attempt to hit me, but he misses. "Fight round two then, you fucker." And it begun, the tiny fight between us. But I notice her going to leave. "Wait no- please let me explain!" I yell, grabbing onto her wrist. She immediately pulls back, with anger herself. "No Ellie. Don't ever touch or even speak to me again." "They weren't right, you have changed me i swear to you!" I plead, but she just shakes her head. "Once a dick. Always a dick. You. Have. Not. Changed."

And that was that. I watch as she leaves. I felt so empty like I had just lost my best friend. What the fuck was I going to do.

Missed calls. I called her so many times, I was freaking out. Think Ellie. God. This was suppose to be the one thing I didn't fuck up. I pace in my room, debating on what is the best approach. Nothing. "Come on brain. You can be creative, don't lack in that now!" There was one option. Going to her dorm and trying to talk to her, Angela. There needed to be a backup plan tho, I had no faith in the first one. I flop on my bed with a long sigh. "You made her cry.." it hurt to even look back on, her hurt features. Her anger, but most importantly those glossy eyes. I close mine trying to get the image out, laying on my back still thinking. "Fuck it." I get up and head over to her dorm. Knocking on the door hesitantly, when Angela is suddenly in sight. "Can I spe-" "No." She immediately cuts me off. "But-" "No Ellie you broke her fucking heart. Again. Why do you always do this to people." I stare at her. "This time was an accident I swear-!" She raises a brow. "You accidentally kissed someone? Yeah alright." There was no winning this. "Please just let me talk to her and explain." She looks at me, but not before shutting the door in my face. Great. What now?

It had been a few days later, and there was no sight of her in classes. Which was worrying, knowing how involved she was with the work. It was saddening to say the least. I decided to have a small wind down in the library, wanting to clear my thoughts in the safe space. When I spot her just sitting in a corner, reading. Was I dreaming? I haven't seen her in days. My feet felt like they were glued to the floor, staring. Do I go over? Talk to her? What do I say?

All these thoughts raced through my mind when I just stood up properly, beginning to head over there. I stand for a few moments in hopes she'd see a person's shoes and look up. As her head rises I notice her eyes. Tired. Worn out. Red and puffy. My heart breaks all over again, especially when her soft expression turns into a bitter glance. "I uh-" I sigh scratching my neck. "Can we talk?" There was silence. Not our enjoyable silence that we'd always share. A cold silence. "Nothing to talk about." I swallow hearing her voice for what felt like forever. And it hurt, the pain deep inside her. "Please." Pleading. I just needed to try say something. I bend down getting infront of her view, needing her to look at me. When she does I just pray she hears me out. "Go on." I soften my look, hearing how uneasy her voice was. I know I didn't mean for all of this to happen, but how could I. How could I of let her kiss me at all- my thoughts were cut off when I hear a faint cough. "She kissed me." Great going. "No really? I'm well aware." God damn Ellie. "I just- I mean, I didn't kiss back." "I saw you Ellie, that's such bullshit." I close my eyes. "Ok, well I didn't enjoy it." She scoffs. "So you admit you did kiss her back?" Now I was silenced. Shit. "Uhhh- well- fuck sake."

She shakes her head. "Just leave me alone." She says dryly, getting up from her spot about to leave. I go to grab her, but don't. Wanting to not repeat history. "Please just let me explain more." She bites her lip, and I know she's suppressing tears. "You've said enough." And so I let it be. Letting her walk off and out of the quiet building.

A few weeks. That's how long ago the library incident first happened. I hadn't seen her around since. Had she left.. like Noelle. "No, don't be silly she loves it here she would never. Not because of me, right?" I huff, that had become a habit, talking to myself. I was still on the mission to get her back or atleast explain things. But my brain was bone dry. It was currently the last class of the day, I rested my chin on the desk, still trying to think. "You know Ellie." Dina began. "Why don't you do something nice for her, give her a note saying to meet somewhere, maybe make her some food or-" I shake my head. "This isn't just some ordinary girl." Dina was honestly shocked. I turn my attention to her. "Shes more than that, I have to do something bigger." She pats my shoulder. "Maybe she has changed you Williams, cuz you've never spoken such things about anyone." It's true, she definitely did. "If this was you and Jesse had done this and you still loved him and such, what would you want him to do?" She ponders that question. "Well I suppose I'd want the truth from both. Him and this random girl." My face lights up. Genius! I smile wide going to hug her. "That's brilliant Dina! But- wait. How would I even do that." I ask. "I think you should figure this out on your own, if she really has changed you I think you should know what to do."

"I'm sorry for screwing you over." My words come out rushed, looking at Sophy with so much hope. She just looks at me. "Really?" I nod. "That's very big of you." She states. "Yeah well, just trying to mend past situations." There was a long pause, before either of us spoke. "Hey, I'm sorry for kissing you that night. I'm in no way that kind of person. Maybe when I'm drunk but I didn't even know you were seeing anyone, didn't even know the Ellie Williams ever could to be fair." The confession heals something inside me, letting that hope be reassured. "So you forgive me for being a complete jerk ages ago?" She smiles and nods. "Yeah we're cool." A sigh of relief escapes my lips. "So what's happening with her? Are you two speaking." I shook my head. "Shes mad and upset and to be honest I don't blame her. I did technically kiss you back-" "you didn't actually." I furrow my brows. "Huh-?" So incredibly confused. "But she said she saw it-" Sophy shakes her head. "Well I didn't feel anything. You must've been talking or something beforehand to make it look like you did, but you didn't. I remember most when I'm drunk and you never kissed back. Plus she caught it before it could progress."

Happy was an understatement. "That's incredible, oh my God I could just k-" we give eachother a look. "Yeah no, bad line to use." I let out a slight awkward laugh, making her shake her head with a smile.

She agreed to help me smooth things over and I was forever thankful. "How do we go about this?" She asks. I think for a moment. "Maybe you could knock on her door and ask to speak with her, and maybe clear the air. Might be best if I'm not there so you can talk properly?" "Sounds good, I don't see a problem with that." I let out a breath of relief. "Ok awesome, thank you."

And after an hour or so she was back. "So how'd it go?" I sit up. "What's something she loves?" I was incredibly confused. "Reading, painting, music. Why?" She leans on the wall. "Shes a kind person, I think she forgave the fact I had apologized, but I reckon you should now do something so she can forgive you completely." I let that sink in and I knew just the thing.

Readers pov

It had been a long day, stressful classes, tons of work. Thank fuck it was a Friday and you could wind down again. You were currently snuggled up on the couch, watching some random cheesy romcom on the TV. Considering it was a Friday that meant Angela was at her boyfriends, so dorm all to yourself. You're brought back out from your thoughts to a knock at your door. Odd. Who on earth. As you open it you spot a girl, not really even processing when you suddenly remember. "Hi, can we talk quickly?" You were shocked nonetheless. What was she even doing here. You let her in anyway, your intrigue getting the better of you. You both make your way over to the couch in silence. "I would like to apologize for kissing something that didn't belong to me." She begins. You on the other hand stay silent and let her finish. "I was drunk- and that's never an excuse, but I do, do crazy shit when I am, I'm not that kind of person sober." There was a silence for a moment. "Doesn't excuse how she acted tho. I appreciate your apology." She nods. "Well if it's any constellation, she never kissed me back." That just confuses me. "Wait she didn't?" She shook her head. "I can assure you. It was just my goofy ass's doing." It only makes you feel a little silly for not knowing the whole story. "I feel embarrassed-" "don't, if anything i probably would've done the same, besides she didn't have the best track record did she? It's no surprise you'd assume." You're now the one to shake your head. "I shouldn't of, I should've let her atleast try and explain."

"Thank you for coming to clear it up with me." You say, escorting her out the door. "Of course, only right thing to do." You nod, giving her a smile. "Although I would've liked her to of come to do so- I know she's tried but I dunno- you think shes given up on trying to fix this?" She lets out a tiny laugh. "Far from that, give it some time yeah? If you know Ellie she never half asses things she loves." You just hope that's true.

It had been a few days later. Two to be exact. And you were currently on your way back to your dorm room. You were about to get your keys when you realize it's already open. "Angie?" You begin, but once you open the door you're greeted by those green eyes. That pale, freckled skin. "Ellie-" You breathe out, setting your things down. Wondering what on earth she's doing here. You notice a few things, like her guitar, then you suddenly smell food. "What is all this." "My apology." You let her continue knowing you had been a bit hard on her. "I made your favorite meal, and I know you were busy today as it was a Friday, so let me take care of you. I'm going to play your favorite song as you relax." Your gaze softens. No one had ever done this for you. Ever. So it melts your heart completely. "Here, come sit." She gestures. You go over to the couch, sitting down as she prepares her guitar, situating it properly in her lap. She begins to play the song Fade Into You by Mazzy Star, your entire face lights up. It hadn't been this bright in awhile, and Ellie seeing that makes her truly happy. Once the song finishes she looks at you. That comfortable silence being back and better than anything. "I- that took me maybe a week to learn, and honestly it wasn't easy but its the easiest song I've ever had to lea-"

But she was cut off by you kissing her. She missed it so much, how soft and safe your lips felt against hers. She was happy again. You pull back to get a look at her. "No one's ever done anything like that for me." She smiles wide. "I've never done anything like that for anyone." She states. "Well I'm glad I was the one." Another comforting silence. "You are the one." Your heart skips a beat at her words, just hearing them makes you giddy inside. "You really think so?" She shakes her head, making you furrow your brows in confusion. "I know so." And that sudden worry was gone again. All you wanted was to kiss her, she got the feeling. Setting the guitar down and bringing you closer. Kissing you so sweetly. You both part. "Well let's eat I bet you're hungry." You nod. "Starved." Your hand reaches out grabbing the plate of pasta. "Smells amazing, I didn't know you cooked." She laughs. "Again with the assuming my love." You put your hands up in your defense. "Didn't say you didn't look like the type to! ... although." A cheeky grins spreads across your face. She lets out a chuckle going to lightly hit your arm. "You're a menace." You begin to eat the meal, and it wasn't too bad. Had all the good flavorings, the perfect amount of cheese which she knew. "No one knows me as well as this, it's quite special to me." She puts her plate down to speak. "No one?" You shook your head. "Not even my parents."

She looked shocked. "Well, glad I could be the one who listens properly. Even though it truly isn't a hard thing to do." You nod at her statement. "You are a good listener. You know how I can tell?" "How?" She leans back intrigued, you take a moment. "Whenever I talk about something and I forget what we were talking about, you always will remind me of the exact thing in best detail that I was speaking of. And always it rejogs my brain. That is how I know you're truly listening." She smiles at you. "You're so cute." The compliment makes you blush, hard. "I missed you." You blurt. "I missed you too angel, so much you have no idea."

That night had been the most relaxing night of your life. It ended with her sleeping in your bed cuddling you until you fell asleep, the safeness you felt was undeniable. It was a regular Tuesday, not too busy but also not so quiet. It all went down hill with the last assignment you got, since you had been a bit out of it recently. You must admit you were slacking. It's not like you at all but you were determined to redeem yourself. That is until the project was due in 2 days. A project this big, no way in hell you were getting it done by then. Not unless you stayed up all night and day. It didn't help that you had classes ontop of that. Stress started to arrive as you go over the assignment. You were currently at the library, skimming it over and over. You begin to bite your lip, chewing and searching for any loose skin as that seemed to help you in some way. It's like a calming technique you picked up through the years, although the consequences aren't so calming. You would forever get ulcers that prevented you from eating because of the infuriating pain. You needed to stop doing it truth be told. You were pulled from the slight manic reading when Ellie is heard. "Hey baby, whatcha doin." She sits down across from you. "Just this assignment." You give her a smile. "How was your day?" You ask her.

"Pretty boring, but hey. Not anymore." She smiles at you now too. "Wanna do something later, you can come over and we can just chill." God that sounded nice but you knew you had to decline. "You can do this and maybe I draw or practice guitar, whatever suits you." God she was so sweet and thoughtful. "That's such a beautiful offer, Els but I think I'm just going to go back to my room to try finish this." And Ellie being Ellie she was agreeing. "Ofcourse yeah! Let me know if you need some company at all." She goes to get up, but before leaving giving you a kiss. "Bye baby." You kiss her back. Once she's left you look back at the work. "Right, let's go." You say packing it up and heading to your dorm.

"Hey." Angie says coming in. "I made some food it's out there if you want it." You nod, focusing on all the papers on your bed. "Whats all this?" You look at her. "Just some work I needa catch up on." She looks at it, then you. "Ok, well please eat." "Uhuh." You didn't take your eyes off of the sheets of paper, scribbling a few words on it. She let out a sigh which you hadn't even heard her do. She leaves soon after, closing the door.

8:01

-Hey sweetheart, just checking in. Making sure everything's ok. :)

You had been so engrossed that you hadn't even felt your phone go off, let alone hear the damn thing.

8:37

-hey sorry, yeah everything's going fine.

-want that company?

-you know, yeah. I'd love that, that sounds nice.

-be there soon. <3

You stop for a moment letting out a breath, you were looking through everything when your face drops, realizing you had completely missed a whole section. "Fuck." You curse going to grab it. There was absolutely no way you were finishing this on time now, you hadn't even seen it how are you going to put this in all of a sudden. "God damn it." "Everything alright?" You jump at the sound of Ellies voice. She holds a hand out. "Woah- didn't mean to startle you it's just me." You shake your head. "Sorry- just a bit jumpy I didn't expect you yet." You reply. She looks at your bed. "This is alot of work." You sigh, trying your hardest to stay positive. You turn your focus on her. "You brought your sketch book." She smiles going to sit in your desk chair. "Sure did, needed to do some doodling." You nod at her, going to continue to figure out what to do with this crap. "What's all this even for?" She asks. "English. Kinda stupid but oh well." Her brows furrow. "You love English tho." "Mmm, I do. But not when it's like this.." you sigh again. "You alright tho?" You nod at her question, flashing a smile. "Yeah, I'm good." She smiles at your own, going to start to draw.

The next night was harder, the whole day was. Trying to find spare time to get more done. It was nearly impossible. Your stress was increasing, making your anxiety appear. You were tearing your hair out in your bedroom. "Hey, have you eaten today?" You hear Angela's faint voice. "Mhmm." You lie. She huffs. "Im worried about you." Your eyes never leave your page. "Well I'm all good in the hood." You slightly joke around by saying that silly saying. "I'm serious Y/n. You hardly have a break from that." That went straight over your head not even hearing what she's saying. She sighs going to close the door again.

-can you please come over.

-why what's up?

-she's freaking me the fuck out, she's not eating I don't even think shes fucking slept, I notice shes been acting incredibly off and it's very worrying.

-slow down, why do you think all this?

-the food from last night was still sitting out this morning. She said she'd eat it and she hasn't. Her eyes are so bloodshot I could see from the millisecond she looked at me. Her bags were prominent too.

-oh Jesus.

-please come over here, I think she really needs you right now.

-I'll be over right away.

Your breath was shakey as you talk to yourself about what you had to do. Your room was a complete and utter mess. Paper, pens, folders. Everywhere. You were so engrossed by it you hadn't even heard your door open. "Y/n?" You heard, you turn your attention to the voice. "Hm?" She saw. Ellie saw what Angela was talking about. "Angie said you haven't eaten." You wave her off. "Can't." She was confused. "And why not?" You pull your lip down to the unsurprising ulcer that had formed. You let your lip rest back, getting back to your studying. "Well I'm going to go reheat the food I'll be right back." You give her another hum, not focusing on a word that came out her mouth. When all of a sudden, the stress was just gone. Your face sits still. Uh oh. That stress had now been replaced with anxiety. Shit. You couldn't let her see you like that. You had to stay calm. But once a panic attack occurred. There was no stopping it. Your breathing became more heavier, taking in breaths to hopefully get that heavy feeling that was on your chest away. No use. It only made things worse, making you freak out again. You felt like you couldn't breath, grabbing onto your sheets feeling tears start to come. Your entire body shaking from the arising panic attack, but also from the lack of sleep. It was going to catch up eventually. It just had to be now. "It might be a bit too hot so just-" Ellie begun. But immediately put the bowl down on your nightstand.

Her movements were speedy coming to crouch down infront of you. She watched you cry your heart out, breathing as if there wasn't air. "Hey hey hey hey, look at me baby." You shake your head, never wanting her to see this. "Please." Her gentle touch makes you reluctantly do so, still letting out streams of tears, shaking uncontrollably. "Shhh." She softly let's out, rubbing your knee. "I-i can't. I can't breathe-" She stands up gently grabbing your hand and putting it to her chest. "Yes you can, youre ok I swear to you. See?" You look at her then your hand, still freaking out slightly, you can feel a ramble about to approach. "This stupid work- Its- suppose to b-be done by tomorrow and I'm nowhere near done. I can't fuck this up because I had been slacking because of everything- and then I messed up on this last night, I h-have absolutely no time during the day because of other classes everything's so messy and I don't know what to do." You sob more. Her heart shatters at your unsteady voice and sobs. She wants to hug you but also doesn't want to overwhelm you even more. "Slow down yeah, once you take a small breath you'll be ok, trust me?" She squeezes your hand reassuringly, letting you know she's right there. "Youre safe. You're going to be just fine. I'm right here." Her voice was so delicate, you let your mind listen to it feeling the sobs begin to slow. "That's it there you go. Can I give you a hug sweet girl?"

You nod at her kindness, wrapping your arms around her torso and resting your head on her chest. She softly kisses your head hugging you tightly. Your grip also tightens not wanting to let go. "Can we stay like this?" You mumbled into her hoodie. "As long as you need angel." Your eyes close, listening to her steady heartbeat. Feeling that tiredness take over. "Can you try eat a small bit before you get some well needed rest, please?" You nod sheepishly, pulling back but still keeping close to her. "Can you stay with me tonight.." Your voice was unsteady but you honestly didn't care you were more than comfortable with her seeing you like this, you thought you wouldn't be, infact you worried about it for nothing. Maybe that's the same for alot of silly things you stress over. "I still dunno what I'm going to do about this stupid work." Your head lowers, looking at your hands in your lap. She thinks for a bit. "Leave it to me ok?" Your eyes move to look at her. "No no, it's ok-" "Please baby. Let me help you." Her hands gently grab your cheeks, and you just give her a nod. "Good, let's get you to eat then some rest hm?"

It was probably a few months that had gone by, you and Ellie were stronger than ever. Doing so well. You were currently over at hers, her roommate being out, you two were just hanging about in her bed. Laughing, smiling, talking. It was a lovely way to spend your evening together. When she turns to you. "Hey pretty girl." She smirks slightly, glancing ar your lips. "Hello." You reply cheerful. You notice her eyes, wanting to kiss her, leaning in to do so. Her hands sneak to the small of your back as the kiss was slow but heated, with intense passion. "Have you." Kiss "Ever thought." Kiss .. kiss - it slowly moves to your jaw. "About sex." And your eyes go ghost. Your mind runs, your heart pounds. Because no you haven't and there's a divine reason why. "I know I have."

"Don't move you little bitch."

You swallow. "I uhm- I dunno exactly." You could tell Ellie was in the mood, and her kisses were so nice-

"Absolutely pathetic, and you're letting this happen."

You blink furiously. "You make me so happy." The kisses continue, and you freeze. Just like all those years ago. "Youre so pretty baby." Your heart rate picks up again. Your anxiety peeking. "E-ellie.." You wanted to try to tell her. Considering you haven't mentioned it yet. "Mmm?" Her kisses move down to you neck, everything was soft but..

"Dumb. Fucking. Cunt."

You could feel slight tears. "Is this ok?" She asks. And when you don't respond she asks again. "Baby?" Then suddenly she feels something wet hit her nose. "My love?" She looks up this time, seeing the small tears. "Hey, hey." Her voice was velvet, making more tears fall. If anything you weren't as scared to do sex all over again, you felt so incredibly safe with her, and remembering all those flashbacks just proved how new all this was. It felt foreign. "Talk to me pretty." She goes to softly stroke your hair. "Was it something I said?" You just shake your head wrapping your hands around her wrist gently. "You're perfect." A silence. "Then why are you crying sweetheart." Her voice was as tender as her touch and you knew you were in love with this woman. "Because you're perfect." She smiles brightly. "Years ago, I was with this girl. We were together for 2 years when near the end she got incredibly toxic with me. And she well in some words-" You didn't even need to finish your sentence, Ellie knew and immediately hugged you. You returned it tightly, like you always did. That silence came back and it was incredibly comforting. "I love you." You hear her voice whisper in your ear. Pulling back to look at her a little surprised. "You don't have to say it b-" But you cut her off bringing her in for a kiss again. "Yes." That confused her. "I've thought about it with you and yes." Then the smiles return, and so do the heated kisses.

After a short while she moved to be more ontop of you but stops briefly. You look at her, she looks way too good right now. "Can I eat you out angel." Her face was close to yours but the way she asked only turned you on more, the fact she's such an angel with this all is an even bigger turn on for you. "Please do." You breathe. Feeling her slowly take off your shirt, she looks at your breasts admiringly. "You're flawless." You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but not because you were anxious or anything, because your whole body felt like it was heating up, all because of how loving she was. She moves her lips to kiss one slowly turning into a gentle suck, around the skin and on your hardened bud. You breathe out, but even that sounded pretty to Ellie. Making her close her eyes at everything right now. She couldn't get enough of you. "You're so beautiful, so incredibly pretty." She blabs on. Her kisses move down your stomach. Keeping with her tender like touch. She slowly but surely pulls your pajama pants down along with your underwear. She takes a moment to take this all in. "Want to take my time yeah? Promise it's not in a teasing way. You truly don't deserve that especially not right now. Just want to savor hm?" You nod, biting your lip ever so slightly.

"You sure it's ok mama?" She rubs circles on the fat of your thigh. You give her a nod but she shakes her head. "Wanna hear you verbally say it, please?" Your smile grew. "Yes Ellie I promise its ok, please do it." Your soft voice made her smile grow. "Angel girl.." She began, gently stroking your clit. Your breath hitches at the feeling. "Need to make you feel good, gotta." Her mouth slowly comes down to you, licking softly. Delicately. That then turns into sucking and she did not disappoint. She in fact was making you feel good. Amazing even. She keeps the pace, eventually looking up at you and the way you'd react to everything. When you felt her tongue go in you, you lost it entirely. Your mouth hung open with so much pleasure everything felt so natural. It always did. "Mmm, knew you'd be as sweet tasting.. such a perfect girl." You let a moan slip. "E-ellie i-" "Mhmm, feel you clenching on my tongue. I got you baby. I got you." This woman didn't make you last long at all but in hindsight. You were not at all complaining. Because as you began to cum, you feel the most incredible orgasm approaching. You felt content, safe. Secure. "Thereee you go Angel. Atta girl." She mumbles letting you ride out your high on her tongue. "Mmm Ellie please I need you so bad." She licks her lips coming up to your face. "Yeah love?" You nod. She goes to take off her clothes, going to get back ontop of you.

But she stops again. "Why don't we try this." She goes to lay down on her back getting you to straddle her. "You be in control okay? I'm right here to help. Just want to make sure this is perfect for you. All I want." You look at her lips, leaning down to kiss them. Her hands tangle in your hair, giving you a tender scalp massage as the two of you kiss. You situate so your pussys directly on hers, not moving just yet, going to sit up a bit. You begin to move shortly after. Watching as you both open your mouths. Her soft grunt made your stomach do flips. "You're so perfect Els.." Your breath became uneven, in the best way possible. She looks down at the two of you then back at your face, your features. "God your ethereal." Another moan escapes you as you speed up. "Good girl, doing so good." The praise went straight to your core helping egg your orgasm on. "C-Can we cum together, please?" Her heart fluttered at your words. "Ofcourse my angel. Wouldn't want anything more than to do so." Your pace picked up again, letting more moans slip from your pink lips. "So well, so incredibly good. Fuck." You knew she was getting close you could just tell. And so were you. Her hands rest on your thighs, squeezing the flesh. "Ready mama?" You nod with her, cumming with moans. Grunts. Of eachothers names even. As you rode out your high making sure Ellies was met too, your body became weak. Flopping onto her torso. "I love you, Ellie." You say back from about 30 minutes ago. Her smile was like it was tattooed onto her face. "You truly have changed me, Y/n.. and for the better." You close your eyes. Feeling yourself drift of to sleep. She kisses your head, stroking your hair gently. "Wanna marry you some day even.."

:))

#elliewilliams #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams the last of us smut

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16tinyfrogs · 30 days ago

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intro/FAQ (that i prob should've done a while ago)

hi! i see a lot of tumblr users with pinned introduction posts- so i'll probably make this as a rough draft & update it as i see fit.

i'm ella (she/her)! i got into poetry at the end of 2024, and i really like writing it/documenting my progress on this blog! scroll back far enough, and you'll get the reeeally rudimentary stuff...

i'm still in high school, but i have a profound love for the english language and butchering it with my (probably) outlawed use of punctuation in my contrapuntal poems. i also like to read a bunch, as well as sing, bake, draw, paint, and play with my 2 dogs- luna & olive.

my poetry- i often forget to actually post my stuff haha. my poems (& prose- i'm too lazy to separate them) are under #poetry & #original poem. *if it is tagged with #poetry but not #original poem, it is still my original work- i'm just forgetful with my tags lol.* i write about anything and everything, from chronic illness, to my queerness, to my faith, to media i liked, etc etc etc

other tags- #answered asks for any asks submitted (i try to answer each one as soon as i can), and #yappings for when i'm just talking about random things!

↓ FAQs about poem formats & publications!

-> what's a contrapuntal poem?

great question! contrapuntal poetry is inspired by contrapuntal music, which is pieces with simultaneous/overlapping melodies. in contrapuntal poetry, you'll see 2+ individual poems (often from unique perspectives) which can be read on their own, and then together in one big poem. it's like a 3 in 1!

-> how do i read a contrapuntal poem?

attached is a screenshot of an old contrapuntal poem i wrote, about controlling relationships.

the poem on the left is the point of view of the controller. it reads like a regular poem- i am/ constricting,/ i'm scared of you/ trying ...etc

the poem on the right is the point of view of the controlled. it also reads like a regular poem- beware,/ the vine/ wrapped around your throat. ...etc

now, here's the cool part. they combine into one big poem! this might be a little harder to read- i'll type out the first couple lines as an example so you can see how the perspectives fit together.

beware,/ i am the vine/ constricting, wrapped around your throat./ i'm scared of you/ trying to escape the strangulation, ...etc

does that make a little more sense? it can be kinda confusing to read at first, but it's so awesome when you get used to the format! eventually, i wrote a poem about some characters from Severance, with three different perspectives! was a mind bender to write, i'll tell you that.

-> what's a blackout poem?

okay, so i don't know if it's reeeally a technically recognized format, but i saw it on @two-bees-poetry & thought it was super cool. i've only done like one or two, though.

my blackout poems are taken from other poems/prose pieces i've already written. i think of it as uncovering a secret message!

so here, my contrapuntal poem about two characters from the Unwind books with verrry wrecked home lives forms one secret message- "can i come home". this is very fun to try as a little thought experiment with your own works- i highly recommend it!

-> do you have works for sale/for print/published?

nope! this is basically the only place i've ever posted my work, apart from the occasional text to a close friend. i don't know the first thing about selling my work online, and i don't really think that my writing should be paywalled. that's not to say that i don't appreciate the outpouring of support i've gotten from this community, though. y'all are all very kind! & i have *nothing* against any poet who sells their words. get that bag sis lmao

as far as printing goes- i think it's super special that people want physical copies of my poems to have as gifts or hang on your wall (or whatever else). i have no problems with that, but please please please do not sell my work!!! i am literally just a person posting her silly little words for other people to see! let's just all be nice!

donations- there have been some remarks that my words deserve compensation, and i'm flattered! i've been thinking of setting up a ko-fi. it seems legit and low pressure. i wish i had something more than my words to offer to you all, but alas, i am built only for yapping. if i set up a ko-fi, it would literally be the most "contribute only if you really, really want to". i post because i like to- not to make a living!!

alright, this ended up SO LONG. oops. i def don't have enough notability to be writing this much in a post.. but i guess if you followed me, that's what you signed up for. feel free to ask me questions or talk to me about literally anything. i love making friends!

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yoonia · 8 months ago

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Hello^^

This is your annual (monthly) psa from little old me.

I'm sorry for being MIA. I had a ton of fun with my birthday bash event on October and I love that I ended up writing a couple of new pieces at the end aside from giving you guys some lovely moodboards to enjoy, which was a blast.

Unfortunately, on the final days of October, I started getting an allergy reaction from some of my meds, which led to me getting a weird skin infection appearing on my right arm and with a terrible inflammation on my upper arm. I also experienced a symptom similar to carpal tunnel syndrome which I got from hours of designing and drawing for work during the day and playing with canva and photoshop and writing on my computer at night, so I had to take a long break as soon as I finished my event and November came around.

To top it all, I think I'm a bit burnt out. I've been releasing a ton of things since August, and my mind (and I guess, my body) is asking for a break. I've been taking some time off from the internet and Tumblr because of this and have been focusing on recovering (bc your girl has bills to pay and I can't draw anything with this arm *sobs*).

I'm still recovering right now, with my arm still sore and hurting, but I'm slowly getting back to writing and creating some stuff again as I'm doing NaNoWriMo independently (without the site). Here's where we are at so far:

— Nefarious, that was planned to be released at the end of October, is about halfway done. I'm currently focusing on this one to release as soon as I'm done with it (because this won't be the last instalment from In Motion and I want to get the other out on December). Thanks to my break, I was able to open the draft with fresh eyes and...hated at least most of the things I wrote last month lol. so I'm in the middle of rewriting this and I can say that I'm making better progress with this so far.

— Carousel is still on rewriting process, with its weekly update continuing on Wattpad starting this month.

— The Bedroom Hymns is also on progress. I can only write for an hour or two each day due to my condition, so progress has been slow, but we're getting somewhere. I think I can release the new chapter right after Nefarious is released.

— Ever A Never After is continuing. Again, it's a slow progress, and I might release it sooner on Wattpad as small chapters if it comes down to it.

— I have a surprise project to release soon. I'm not sure when it's coming, but I'll be announcing it when I'm ready :)

That's all for now. Thank you for your patience and for making things fun for me back in October that you've given my a lot of motivation to write some new fics. I have a couple of messages waiting for me in my inbox which I'll be answering as soon as I'm available (again).

Be back soon! Take care, lovelies <333

xoxo, Dia

#psa #💌 from dia

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straykidsnerd255 · 4 months ago

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Omg a fellow stay am so happy I came across your blog. Got even happier that you write for solo leveling and even Suho!(my scrunkly poo😋) I have some couple of friends who really like him along with me(I'll definitely recommend your blog to them for more of him from you). If you could please write a one shot of him here's the plot;the reader is an apostle that ran away from the Itarim and along the way got amnesia (idk how they would get it my brain is fried already bit you can think of anything)and lived as a normal human in the mortal world and met Suho in the art university and got along very well to the point he started harboring romantic feelings for them. And the reader being emotionally constipated (lmao) was pretty dense to how he felt (Love me some desperate and in love puppy Suho)time skip to him awakening and stuff and how he and the reader started going to dungeons and met Esil, the gang would slowly learn that the reader is from the Itarim despite themselves not knowing that they are one.But Suho wasn't bothered or worried since he loved them all the same and were unharmful and kind. Although the reader would have some inner struggle with their past identity or what they might have possibly done and spirals down some sort of breakdown. But Suho comes in to reassure them that he still saw them as someone he'd be besides for his entire life.so like some tiny angst from reader but Suho makes it all better :3

Oml am rambling I just have a big hyperfixation on him specifically😭. But I hope this helps with you writing the plot. Oh and If you can the reader is preferably gender neutral, I think it's nice for everyone to enjoy reading a piece of thier beloved favorite.hope you have a nice day/night and don't pressure yourself ♡

Title: Somewhere only you and I know

Pairing: Sung Suho x Itarim Apostle Reader

Genre: Angst/fluff

Song: Somewhere only we know by Keane

Rating: PG-13

Warning(s): Reader forgetting their memories, reader having an identity crisis, gender neutral, swearing(like one or two swears happen), Suho being best boy, mentions of Suho’s parents’ disappearance, mentions of hostility towards reader, Suho is so whipped for reader, reader is a year younger than Suho (Suho is 22, reader is 21), Sung Jin Woo makes an appearance towards the end, someone dies (Its reader for a split second) , I am not quite caught up on Solo Leveling Ragnarok, so if there is something not right, I also don’t remember people's names except for the few that I do remember like Esil, and Suho, Jinah, and Jinho and of course Suho’s parents, Jin Woo and Hae-In

Summary: You had forgotten everything. What and who you were before waking up in a world of mortals and hunters. Not a single recollection of your past life could be remembered. So, you figured you would start anew. Now, a college student studying art when you happen to meet Sung Suho. Soon, you both are the best of friends, but Suho now has a problem. He really really likes you and doesn’t know how to tell you. During his little crisis of feelings, you are struggling to figure out who you really are as bits and pieces of your former life come filtering back.

Word Count: 2616

Thank you so much for the request! Hello to you too my fellow stay!! I had so much fun writing this one-shot and I hope that more come for Suho. I do apologize if there are a few things missing, I’m not quite caught up with Solo Leveling Ragnarok so pardon any errors or mistakes.

Your head smacked against the table as the teacher finished assigning the final project. Suho looked over at you with a raised eyebrow. “Are you doing ok there?” He asked, watching you lift your head up and take a piece of paper. You picked up your pencil before looking at Suho. “Why is it that the teacher thought it was the best idea to give us such a huge project but not enough time?” You asked, watching Suho grin widely. “I don’t know but being able to draw whatever I want makes up for it. I actually started a painting of my parents and hope to use that as my final project.” He said, his eyes looking down at the table. You knew the story. He had told you about them when you two became the best of friends.

You reached across the table and took his now trembling hand in yours. He looked up at you, his eyes had unshed tears filling them. “You will find your parents. I know you will. And I will be there next to you, helping you.” You said, a soft smile on your face. Suho could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Looking at you, Suho smiled. “And I will help you regain your memories again.” He said, tightening his hold on your hand slightly. The rest of the period consisted of you and Suho hunched over your papers as you both began sketching out the drawings designs. Suho was thorough in capturing what his parents looked like. He still remembered their faces when he was about 15 years old.

He remembered the way his father would smile at him and congratulate him on his achievements. How his mother would pull him into a hug and tell him how proud she was of him. His hand stopped moving across the paper, he could feel his thoughts starting to spiral, his heart pounding so fast in his chest as worst case scenarios filled his mind. ‘What if they were murdered when he wasn’t there?’ Shaking his head, he glared at the paper. ‘That wouldn’t happen. Father was strong, same with mother. Dad was even a homicide detective so how could he have died?’ Suho shook his head not wanting to think about that anymore.

He turned back to the paper and felt his heart clench. He had been drawing the entire time he was lost in thought. His parents stared back at him from the paper, their smiles were soft and gentle, and their eyes seemed to hold the universe in them. You looked up from your drawing when you couldn’t hear Suho’s pencil anymore and found him staring at his paper, a gentle smile sitting on his lips. You tilted your head, but saw the picture that Suho drew. Your heart warmed at the sight. ‘He really misses his parents.’ You thought, watching Suho faintly trace his mother and father’s face with his finger.

After class ended, You and Suho walked to your lockers to grab your bags and head home. Suho’s aunt had so graciously allowed you to stay with them til you could get on your feet. As you and Suho entered his aunt’s house, you bowed to her and her husband before slipping off your shoes and slipping on slippers. The rest of the day consisted of you and Suho putting the final touches to your sketches. “Wow Y/n. That art is spectacular.” Suho’s aunt said, leaning over to look at the art. You smiled rubbing the back of your neck. As you opened your mouth to say thank you, a sharp pain filled your head. You clenched your head and clenched your eyes shut.

Suho jumped from his chair running to the kitchen to grab a cold washcloth. Returning, he made you sit back against the chair with your head tilted back. He placed the cloth on your forehead and you immediately melted as the cold seeped into your skin. You groaned as the pain immediately vanished. “Suho, what happened?” his aunt asked, turning to her nephew. “Y/n gets terrible headaches that just appear out of nowhere. The only thing that happens to help is a very cold wash cloth.” Suho said, moving closer to your side and flipping the cloth over to the other side.

A few days passed but the headache seemed to get worse. You were constantly in pain, but one thing that stuck out was the fact it showed a bright white room, pillars everywhere and angel like creatures that stood towers above the humans. You gripped your head as you screamed, Suho sitting next to you when an episode happened, tried shaking you gently, the cold washcloth lying on the coffee table forgotten. You gripped Suho’s arm with strength he didn’t know you could muster up. “What the hell am I Suho?” You said, your eyes flashing a different color as your body doubled over. Slowly and over time, your memories began to return. People could see the changes and began to grow hostile. Hating everything about you. Suho, however, stayed by your side. He snapped and yelled at those that would hurt you.

Currently, you were laying on Suho’s lap, eyes closed and trying to at least get some rest. Suho was positively shaking. During the time he had been by your side, he started developing feelings for you. He didn’t care if you were to be his enemy. Days passed with Suho following you everywhere you went. You had begged him not to leave you as you were terrified. You didn’t know who or what you were and having everyone hate you didn’t make you feel any better. When you finally came to terms with what was happening, Suho had been working to awaken his own powers that he harbored. When Suho’s friends had met you they didn’t like you. They even admitted to hate the idea of being friends with you because of what you are.

{Months Later}

Suho had done everything to get you out of your apartment, but nothing was working all that well. Suho’s heart was starting to break as he listened to your sobs from outside the door. A few days finally passed before he had enough. He took the spare key that you had given to him and unlocked the front door. Suho knew right then and there he didn’t want to feel that heart wrenching pain ever again. You were laying on the floor, tears streaming down your face. Other than himself, Esil was the only other person that cared about you and made sure you had company when needed.

Suho knelt down in front of your face, waiting for you to even look up at him. “Suho, you should leave me. I’m a monster. To think I was someone that belonged to the enemy side.” A fresh wave of tears fell down your face. Suho could feel his heart breaking the more he watched you. “Y/n, I don’t care who you are or what you are. You have always been a sweet, and caring person.” Suho said, dropping so he was laying on his side facing towards you, his hand taking your hand in his and pressing it to his heart. Your eyes widened but you didn’t remove your hand. The feeling of his heartbeat against your hand made your already racing heart to slow down. You had longed for a way to figure out who you were but at the same time, you didn’t want to leave Suho and the others. You didn’t want to go back to your old life. There was a reason that you had forgotten about it, possibly even ran away from your old life.

“Please don’t shut me out anymore.” Suho whispered. You slowly moved closer to him, tucking your head into his chest and closing your eyes. Suho's face burned a bright red but his arms wrapped around your slightly trembling body. You tucked yourself closer to him and his arms seemed to tighten. Then, your body stilled. Your breathing halted and your eyes didn’t open. Suho gently shook your body but you didn’t move. He pressed his ear to your heart but his eyes widened and his heart sank to the pit of his stomach. You had died in his arms. He was the last person you saw before your body gave up. Suho held you in his arms as he cried into your shoulder, begging you to come back to him.

Opening your eyes, you stood before the massive gods. Their eyes on you. You knew what they wanted. They wanted a report. They wanted you to tell them the weaknesses of humankind. To tell them a way of killing everyone in the world. You looked at them directly, not bowing, or calling them by their titles. But instead, you warned them. You warned them that if they tried to hurt that world, they would lose everything they held dear. Possibly, even their lives. Of course, these gods laughed at your warming. Laughing at the mear idea of humans being able to attack or possibly kill them. Opening your mouth to counter, you felt a hand on your shoulder.

Turning to the side, you were met with none other than Suho’s father, Sung Jin Woo, the current Shadow Monarch. Your eyes widened as you met him, the immediate need to bow to him was nearly choking you. You made the move to kneel and bow, but Sung Jin Woo shook his head, a smile on his face. “Please return to my son. He needs you right now. I can take care of this.” He said, shoving his hands in his long coat pockets, a smile on his face. You watched as his calm demeanor changed as his eyes began to glow a dark purple. That same purple surrounded his body. “Arise.”

Legions of shadows appeared all around you. You looked at Sung Jin Woo, who had his eyes glued on the gods before him, but a simple nod of his head and the shadows rushed forward. Your eyes widened as you watched the Shadow Monarch for a simple moment before you were forced from the platform and floating away from the battle that rocked the darkness of space. Your heart raced as you watched the battle. Suho’s father was strong, but he was also so gentle when talking about his son. “Go back to my son Y/n. He needs you.” Sung Jin Woo’s voice filled your head once again. Almost immediately, Suho filled your thoughts. The looks he would give you when you were not looking. The soft smiles he would only give to you. Even the fear that appeared on his face when you shut yourself away. You closed your eyes, willing yourself to return to your body.

Slowly, you opened your eyes, the sound of sirens and sniffling could be heard. You blinked before slowly sitting up. The paramedic that was working to help you gasped when you sat up. He started taking your vitals and found it weird that your vitals looked completely normal. Packing his things up, he made sure that you were really ok before standing up and leaving. Placing your hand on your head, you closed your eyes and sighed out before standing up slowly and sitting down on the couch. Your mind drifted off to Suho’s father, watching as he and his shadows took to fighting the massive gods that you have once served. You were angry. Mad that you even thought following those gods was the right thing to do, or the fact that it was Sung Jin Woo, Suho’s father that pulled you from the nightmare.

“Suho?” You called out, after not hearing anything for a while. The sound of something dropping and feet running across the floor could be heard as Suho burst into the living room. His eyes red from how long he had been crying. “You’re alive.” He whispered, moving closer to you. Standing in front of you, he dropped to his knees and wrapped arms around your waist. His face is buried in your lap. You could feel his tears soaking into your pants. “Suho, I met your father.” You whispered. Suho’s head snapped up, his eyes wide as he searched your eyes. “Does that mean he’s dead?” Suho asked. You shook your head, “No Suho. He isn’t dead. I also regained my memories. I am an apostle sent by Itarim to kill off humanity.” You said. You watched Suho freeze but he didn’t pull away from you. “I realized that wasn’t the place I wanted to be. It wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to live a normal life, or at least as normal as it can be.” You said, your hand moving to thread through Suho’s hair, watching as his eyes closed, a soft breath leaving his lips.

Opening his eyes, Suho looked up at you, his eyes tracing your features as he gave you a goofy grin. You smiled down at him. “I don’t care what or who you are. I don’t care that you were an apostle for a group of gods that my father is facing off with. I don’t care if you are just a normal human.” Suho said, moving from where he was on his knees and sitting on the couch next to you. “Is this a weird time to tell you that I have a crush on you?” Suho asked, his face dusted a dark red as he waited for your answer. You laughed before turning to face him. “No, but I am a little dense. What do you mean by having a crush on me?” You asked, a sly smile on your lips. Suho turned to you and his own grin appeared on his face as he leaned towards you.

“This is what I mean by having a crush on you.” Suho said, pressing his lips against yours. Your eyes immediately close. The warmth in your chest expands as Suho presses closer. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his chest while he deepens the kiss. Pulling away, you both stare at each other with half lidded eyes as you try to catch your breath. A red dusting the bridge of your nose while the tips of his ears were red. Your fingers moved up to your lips and brushed your fingers against your lips, a happy smile on your face. You leaned your head on Suho’s shoulder and closed your eyes. Suho wrapped his arms around you and leaned his head on your head.

“Do you understand what I mean now?” He asked, his fingers rubbing down your arm as you smiled softly. “Yeah. I understand what you mean now.” You mumbled, pressing closer to Suho’s side. You knew you would never really come to terms with what you truly are, but with Suho by your side, you knew you could handle anything that comes your way. Suho, your ever-loving support, would smile and tell you how proud he is of you, and how much he loves you. You knew you found the right person to love. “Promise you will never leave me?” You asked one night as both you and Suho walked hand in hand around the small part near your shared apartment. Suho looked at you and smiled softly. “I will never leave you. I will share all your problems if you will let me.” Suho whispered, leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours in a soft, chaste kiss before you both continued on your walk, your steps lighter, now that you had someone by your side.

#Solo Leveling Ragnarok x Reader #Suho Sung x Reader #Suho Sung x Gender Neutral Reader #fluff one-shot #angst one-shot #Solo Leveling Ragnarok x Gender Neutral Reader

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