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kmt123whatsthetea · 6 months ago

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The wonders of ink

Fred Weasley x reader x George Weasley

‘Fred and George prank you by getting your clothes dirty, only to take you to the bathrooms to help you clean off’

A/N: I decided to repost (so nobody thought I was dead). I’ve been gone for so long and I feel guilty so I decided to deliver smut upon you all haha. My dear sister helped me to write this (Her Wattpad account is @Darkness_Donut. Feel free to give her a look if you’re in the Wattpad area)

T/W: Unprotected sex, The twins being kinda pervy, Groping, Double penetration

Fred and George put a lot of work into every prank.

Whether it was as simple as a ‘Hex Me’ note on Ron’s back or as sophisticated as creating a new type of chocolate that caused facial warts.

Not only did they put work into their pranks, but they also put pride into them. Each one was like their child, born and sent into the world to cause mischief. The prank they planned for you, however, was less like a prank and more like a plot for something even better than the typical annoyed scowl the pranks were usually met with.

While other students prepared for various classes and homework projects, Fred and George would stay locked in their dorm, perfecting the key catalyst for their interaction with you.

The twins were head over heels in love with you. While most people would approach you with a normal greeting and a proposition for a date, the twins needed to do more. Go big or go home was practically their motto. So when their newest creation was ready, all they had to do was wait for the perfect moment.

____________________________________________

You had been in the courtyard. Your nose stuck in the book that was cradled in your hands. So unsuspecting and sweet. The way the wind blew your hair, how your eyes were glued to the words.

George approached you, not too close that you’d notice but close enough that he could start phase one of the plan. He pulled out a small vial, the liquid inside a dark blue that stained the glass. He took a deep breath before uncorking the bottle and taking a step closer, ‘tripping’ over the tree branch and spilling the liquid over your uniform.

You squealed and moved the book aside, looking between the fresh stain and the redhead who threw it on you.

“George! What in Merlin's beard have you done?!”

George just shrugged his shoulders, putting on an apologetic look. The same look he gave his mum when she scolded him for putting a spell on Percy’s breakfast which caused the sausages to spout legs.

“I didn’t mean too, honest. I just kinda…tripped”

You did not look pleased, understandably so. George almost felt guilty but then he remembered the plan. It was all going smoothly, even if you might disagree.

“I feel awful. How about we go to the Prefects bathroom and get you cleaned up before it dries?”

With a sigh, you followed George.

The walk to the prefect's bathroom was filled with you grumbling about the stain and scolding George for not being careful. The bathroom was empty (all thanks to a little spell that temporarily made the door disappear). The baths were filled to the brim with hot water and bubbles, steam dampening the air.

Fred emerged from around one of the pillars, smirking as he looked you up and down.

“Good job, George. I knew you could get our girl here. You know, love, you should really clean up that stain. Wouldn’t want Snape taking away our hard earned points, now would you?”

George moved closer to you, his chest barely touching your back. Fred leaned against the pillar, staring at the black spot on your shirt. You crossed your arms, letting out a huff. You could practically see the burning desire in Fred’s eyes from across the room, the heat from George sneaking through the back of your shirt and warming your skin.

“You’d both like that, huh? Why don’t I just have a bath while I'm at it?”

George ignored your sarcastic tone and leaned closer, his breath tickling your ear.

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea, sweetheart. We’ll get you nice and clean”.

Something about George’s soft tone caused your hands to rise to your top button, both sets of eyes glued to your fingers as they popped open the first button of many. One by one, your shirt slowly opened. The shirt had luckily (or unluckily) caught the liquid and stopped it from seeping through to your bra and skin underneath.

George helped you to slip the fabric from off your body before Fred stepped closer and took it from him. He held it up with a smirk.

“There’s nothing here, love. Maybe you just wanted to get naked for us”.

The white shirt was clean. Not a spot or stain in sight. The sight of your wide eyes and confused look made Fred chuckle. George rubbed your arms.

“Our newest prank, disappearing ink. We heard Harry talking about how his idiot muggle cousin had some so we wanted to make our own. We made it especially for you”.

Your hand darted out to snatch the fabric from Fred, smoothing your fingers over the fabric that was once stained to see if it was really gone. Both boys watched as your expression turned from confusion to shock to a mix of desire and anger. You were angry that the twins had tricked you and pulled you away from your book but you couldn’t help but feel hot at the thought that they made an ink just to get you in your bra. Maybe a reward for all their hard work wouldn’t be so bad.

George tugged on the bra clasp, his lips ghosting down your neck before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. A shiver ran up your spine at the feeling, but you didn't push him away. Fred toyed with the hem of your skirt, watching as your eyes glazed over with desperation.

“I need you both. Please make me feel good”

Fred tugged your skirt up, using his other hand to trace his fingers over the elastic of your underwear. He slowly trails your underwear down your smooth legs and helps you step out of them so your dripping folds are on display to him. As you look upon their faces, both of them lick their bottom lips in unison. George finally pulls your bra off, tossing it with your discarded shirt.

How could you look so innocent in just your skirt with your tits out? To the twins, you were like a graceful doe who wandered into the hunters' den. George practically growled as his hands groped your tits, squeezing the sensitive flesh. Your eyes closed and you let out a whimper that was sweeter than any sugary treat from Honeydukes.

Fred took the opportunity to unzip his trousers, shimmying them down enough to pull his cock out. Every noise that escaped your lips made it jerk in his hand. He stepped closer, his tip pressing snugly against your clit and leaving a splodge of precum. His hand wrapped around your thigh, tugging it up and over his hip while George held you upright. His head speared through your folds, your slick coating his shaft.

“Do you want this, love? You want me inside of you? Maybe we should see if that tight little hole can handle Georgie and I at the same time. I can feel how wet that makes you, Sweetheart. The thought of taking two cocks, we’d break that sweet pussy open”

George tugged at your earlobe with your teeth, only pulling back when a whine bubbled up from your throat.

“I think you want us to ruin you for other men”

Your voice couldn't have been more than a whisper, but it was filled with every dirty promise and beg that would only be privy to the twins’ ears.

“I want you two. I want other guys to look at me and know that I belong to you”

“Sweetheart, you already belong to us”

George moved his hand down to push his trousers down and pull his cock out, pressing it at your entrance before pulling you against him. His cock slid inside of you, your warm cunt hugging his shaft.

Fred brushed his fingertips against your clit, taking in the sight of your hole stretched around his brother's cock. It was gonna be a tight fit. He nudged at your entrance, his tip trying to find a space big enough to squeeze into. With a bit more persistence, he was pushing forward, the desperation to be buried inside of you fueling him.

You tried to stay still, trying not to squirm or clench. The stretch was so intense that you swore you could even feel the blood pumping through the veins decorating their shafts. Every pulse, every nudge felt like it would rip you in two.

When Fred’s tip finally pushed through the small opening, the squealed moan that left your lips was enough for George to press his hand to your lips to muffle any sound. As much as they loved the noises you were making, they couldn’t get suspended so close to graduating. There would always be other occasions to hear your pretty moans.

The sight was one to behold. The twins wished they could photograph your pussy stuffed with both of their cocks and frame it, only to watch the replay over and over.

An obscene squelching filled the room as they repeatedly stuffed their cocks into you. The stretch brings you closer to the edge than ever before. Your walls clenched, trying to both push their cocks out and pull them deeper. It didn't take long before you were cumming, clenching around them in a desperate need to be full of their cum.

George's hand stayed over your mouth, his lips whispering sweet praises in your ear. Fred lips were pressed against your forehead, giving chaste kisses here and there. Their groans echoed throughout the room when they felt you cum around them. You felt too good to be true. It took them 3 months to make that ink.

It was worth every single minute.

A mix of their cum flooded your insides, but there was so much that it started spilling out. But they didn't pull out just yet. With how much effort went into getting you between them, they were gonna make this last for as long as possible. It was only after they came down from their high that they noticed just how much of a mess you all made. Cum spots stained your skirt and their trousers. Fred’s chuckle caught your attention.

“Maybe we should clean you up for real this time”

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fear-is-truth · 3 months ago

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⋆౨ৎ˚ 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 — nicholas a. chavez

𝓣ags ; actress!reader . not proofread . wc 1.4k

requested by — @chaimilkshake

꒰ after your breakout role, teen vogue invites you and your future co-star for an interview ꒱ؘ.

The set of Teen Vogue’s interview was bathed in blinding, fluorescent light, illuminating the sleek, modern chairs arranged under the cameras. Your fingers tapped anxiously against your thigh as you sat in one of them, trying to keep your nerves in check. This wasn’t just any interview—it was your first big one, and you could feel the weight of the attention on your shoulders.

You glanced across the room at Nicholas Alexander Chavez, who was seated in the chair next to you. He’s the rising star everyone’s been talking about since Ryan Murphy’s new docuseries blew up, where he played Lyle Menendez. The two of you were often compared, given your similar roles. In the film, you played Sandra Anderson, one of the infamous “bathtub sisters”—two teenage girls who orchestrated their mother’s murder, a case that horrified the nation. It was your first big role, and while the story itself was dark and intense, the critics had been praising your performance alongside your co-star’s. You’d both been dubbed the “female counterparts” to Nicholas and Cooper Koch, and while that comparison was flattering, it always felt a little surreal to you.

You had only ever done tv commercials before Bathtub Sisters. At 19, you were new to all of this, while Nicholas, at 25, was experienced, confident, and already beloved. And now you were about to share the spotlight with him, after the two of you had been cast as romantic leads in a new rom-com—a pairing that had already broken the internet—people were dying to see more of you together.

Yeah, no pressure.

“Alright, you two ready?” the interviewer — Maggie’s voice calls out from off-camera. You take a deep breath and nod, forcing a small smile. Nicholas glances at you, catching your eye, and offers an easy smile of his own. It helps ease your nerves a little.

“Welcome back, everyone! Today, we’re sitting down with two of Hollywood’s newest stars—Nicholas Chavez and Y/N, who recently broke the internet after being cast together in an upcoming rom-com. You might recognize them from their past roles as Lyle Menendez and Sandra Anderson. Welcome, you two!”

“Thanks for having us, I’m Nicholas Chavez,” Nicholas says smoothly, flashing a smile in your direction. You nod and wave shyly at the camera. “And I’m Y/N L/N.”

“So, this new rom-com,” Maggie begins, “How did it feel to hear that you were cast together? People have been calling you two the ‘next big thing’ after how viral the announcement went.”

Nicholas chuckled, glancing at you for a split second too long. “Honestly, I didn’t expect that kind of reaction. But I can’t complain—it’s been cool seeing people get excited. And, y’know, it’s pretty exciting to be going to work with Y/N. I’m really looking forward to it.”

You try to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck at his compliment. Stay cool, you tell yourself. “Yeah, it’s been…pretty surreal. I mean, this is only my second project, so to be thrown into something so big, it’s wild. But my friends and family have been really supportive.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet!” she gushes. “You two seem to have good chemistry, even off-screen. I can tell.” You shift in your seat, hoping your nervousness wasn’t too obvious.

“So, you both came from playing in darker, heavier roles—the Menendez brothers, Bathtub Sisters—and now you’re starring in a romantic comedy together. That’s quite the shift! How’s it been adjusting to such a different genre?”

“It’s been fun,” Nicholas replies. “I mean, the last project I worked on was pretty intense, and the same goes for Y/N. Jumping into something lighthearted was a nice change of pace. Plus, rom-coms? You can’t beat that.”

You nod in agreement, trying not to blink too much under the lights. “Yeah, definitely. My first film was so dark, and this…it feels like a breath of fresh air.”

“And how about the fan reaction? It’s not every day a casting announcement gets that much attention. People are already shipping you two.”

You feel your face flush at the mention. “I’ve seen some of it,” mentally reminding yourself never to google your own name again. “It’s kind of crazy how fast things blow up.”

“Yeah, it’s wild. People really get invested in this stuff. But hey, it’s cool seeing how excited they are about the movie.” Nicholas agrees.

“So, you guys have been compared quite a bit—being cast in true crime roles, playing siblings in intense, high-profile cases. How do you feel about that?”

Nicholas turns his head to look at you; silently waiting for you to answer first. When you smile back awkwardly, he speaks up. “I think it’s pretty cool. I mean, both cases are so infamous, and it’s wild how much people gravitate toward these kinds of stories.” He pauses, turning his head toward you again.

“But you guys really knocked it out of the park with Bathtub Sisters—I was blown away.”

Surprised by the sudden compliment, you blink, trying not to let it show how flustered you felt. “Thanks, that really means a lot. I watched Monsters too, and your portrayal of Lyle Menendez was just…” you pause, searching for the right words “…insane.”

“How do you handle that kind of pressure, especially you—” the interviewer nods toward you, “since you’re still pretty new to the industry?”

You shift a little in your seat, brushing a hand through your hair. “Uh, it’s pretty overwhelming at times, but it feels like a dream — getting compared to phenomenal actors like Nicholas and Cooper is a huge honour.”

Nicholas chuckles, leaning back slightly. “Hey, don’t give me too much credit. You’re killing it girl — I wasn’t anywhere near where you are when I started.”

His easy confidence makes you relax, and the interview continues smoothly, covering your upcoming rom-com and what fans can expect. Every so often, Nicholas gives you a reassuring smile, helping to settle your nerves

As the interview wraps up and the crew begins packing, the both of you are waiting for your cars outside the studio. The air is cooler now, with evening settling in, and you fidget with the sleeve of your jacket, still feeling a bit starstruck.

“You did great in there,” Nicholas says suddenly, breaking the silence. You turn toward him, genuinely surprised.

“You think so? I felt like I was rambling half the time.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “No way. You were cute and genuine—people love that.”

A smile creeps onto your face, and you feel a little more relaxed around him.

“T-thanks.”

Nicholas’s phone buzzes in his hand, and he glances at it quickly before slipping it back into his pocket.

“Hey, I know we’ve only just started working together, but… do you wanna grab coffee sometime? No cameras, no interviews, just hang out.”

You blink, caught off guard. He’s Nicholas Alexander Chavez. He could be hanging out with anyone, and yet, here he is asking you. Your heart does a little flip.

“Yeah, I’d like that,”

“Sweet,” he says, pulling out his phone and handing it to you. His fingers brush yours briefly, and the small touch sends a rush of warmth through you. You quickly type in your number, trying to ignore the way your cheeks heat up.

He takes the phone back, flashing a smile. “I’ll text you. Promise it won’t be one of those crazy-ass 3 a.m. texts.”

You laugh, feeling your nerves start to fade completely. “Good to know. I’d hate to have to block you.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Block me? Ouch. That’s cold.”

“Boundaries, right?”

“Fair enough.”

As Nicholas heads toward his waiting car, he turns back just before getting in. “Oh, and just so you know,” he calls out with a teasing grin, “I might text you at 2:59 a.m. Just to see if you’ll actually block me.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re pushing your luck.”

“Hey, I live dangerously,” he replies with a wink before sliding into the car.

As he walks away toward his waiting car, you stand there for a second, feeling a little dazed. The whole day had been a whirlwind, and now it seemed like something even crazier was about to begin. Nicholas turns back just before getting into the car, offering one last wave before he disappears into the backseat.

Maybe Nicholas and you were going to be the next big thing—but off-screen.

MLIST

#nicholas chavez #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez x y/n #Nicholas Chavez fluff #nicholas chavez imagine

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aventurineswife · 2 months ago

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Reader knitting baby gloves, hats or little baby vests without telling anything to them. And when they get suspicious that the reader wants a baby or something they learn that the reader's sister is going to give birth and all those are just a preparation for the new coming baby. Their reactions?

“Welcome, little one”

You sat quietly by the window, the soft click of knitting needles filling the otherwise peaceful room. Every now and then, you’d glance at the pattern, the yarn slipping through your fingers effortlessly as you focused on the tiny baby gloves in your lap. Your mind was calm, focused on the task, though you couldn’t help but smile as you imagined the little hands that would soon wear these gloves.

Sunday walked in quietly, his eyes flickering to the delicate, almost ethereal gloves. “I’ve noticed these,” he said in his usual, composed voice, pausing a few steps away from you. “You’ve been spending an awful lot of time on these… but why?” He tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving the tiny gloves.

You glanced up, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It’s nothing. Just a little project.”

He raised an eyebrow, his wings shifting subtly behind him. “It doesn’t look like nothing. Is it for us? Or perhaps…” His eyes narrowed slightly, considering a possibility. "You wish for us to have a child?”

You shook your head with a soft chuckle, setting the gloves aside. "Oh no, it’s not for us. It's for my sister. She’s expecting a baby soon, and I wanted to help out.”

Sunday’s expression softened as he stepped closer, concern and curiosity mixing in his gaze. “Ah, your sister. I see now. A new life to protect, and you’re preparing for it with such dedication. I suppose this isn’t the first time you’ve knitted things for her?”

You nodded, feeling a wave of warmth from his understanding. “No, I’ve done this for her before.”

His serious expression was replaced with a small smile, his eyes almost glowing. "You’re always so considerate for your loved ones. It’s clear you will be a great aunt/uncle."

Aventurine, as always, entered the room with an effortless confidence, his eyes immediately drawn to the delicate baby vest you were knitting. He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Is this your work? I must say, I didn’t expect you to take up something so… cozy.” He leaned against the doorframe, his eyes following the rhythmic movements of your hands.

You didn’t look up, but you offered a quiet hum in acknowledgment. “Hmm, it’s a hobby.”

“Mm,” he replied, stepping closer with that teasing smile of his, his hands resting in his pockets. “A hobby, you say? And is this hobby preparation for… a little one? You’ve been knitting baby clothes for quite some time now. Are you telling me something, sweetheart?”

You paused for a moment, looking up to meet his playful yet searching gaze. You could see the wheels turning in his mind, and a small smirk played on his lips as he waited for an answer.

“No, it’s not like that,” you replied, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. “It’s for my sister. She’s expecting, and I’m helping her get ready for the baby.”

Aventurine’s expression shifted from playful to surprised, his smirk faltering for a moment. He raised an eyebrow, trying to process. “Your sister, huh? Well, that makes more sense. I had a feeling you weren’t planning on bringing a baby into the picture just yet…”

You smiled at his teasing, grateful for the lightheartedness he brought. “Not yet, no. But I’m sure my sister would appreciate the help.”

“Very considerate of you, as always,” he said with a softer tone, his eyes gleaming with admiration. “I suppose I’ll just have to wait for the next exciting news, then.” He winked at you, leaning in slightly. “But if you ever change your mind… I’ll be more than ready to play the role of doting uncle.”

You were hunched over your work, carefully weaving the yarn to form a small, intricate baby hat. The rhythmic motion of your hands was calming, and the thought of the new life that would soon enter the world filled you with warmth. But as you pulled the final stitches together, you couldn’t help but notice Ratio standing nearby, his sharp gaze fixed on the tiny hat in your hands.

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat, startling you slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You’ve been quite… diligent in your knitting lately. I must say, I didn’t take you for someone so invested in these… trivial pursuits.”

You chuckled softly, lifting your gaze to meet his slightly raised brow. “It’s not trivial. I’m making this for my sister. She’s about to have a baby.”

Ratio’s eyes flickered with interest, and though he didn’t show it, there was a shift in his expression. “A baby?” His tone was more thoughtful now. “Ah, I see. You are preparing for a new life. How fascinating.”

You nodded, your fingers still working the yarn. “Yes, she’s due soon. I’ve been helping her get ready.”

He stepped closer, a subtle curiosity in his voice as he observed the delicate details in your knitting. “I see. This is rather meticulous work. A fitting way to show affection. I had assumed you had other reasons for such actions… Perhaps even to prepare for something… personal?” He raised an eyebrow, a touch of skepticism creeping into his tone.

You laughed at his suspicion, shaking your head. “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just for my sister. A little extra help from me.”

Ratio’s expression softened, a rare hint of genuine warmth in his gaze. “I see. I apologize for my assumptions. I suppose I misjudged the situation. You are indeed a person of thoughtful consideration.” He gave a small nod of respect. “May your sister’s child be blessed with wisdom and a strong mind.”

Blade stood in the doorway, his red eyes sharp as he watched you knit a tiny baby vest. It was an odd sight, especially when considering the life he led, and for a moment, the cold edge of his gaze softened as his mind raced with possibilities. His quiet steps took him closer, his voice low as he finally spoke.

“You’ve been knitting a lot lately. That’s not like you,” he remarked, his tone just as sharp as usual, but with a hint of curiosity beneath the surface. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

You looked up, raising an eyebrow at his directness. “It’s nothing. Just a little project.”

Blade’s eyes flickered toward the baby vest in your hands, a faint frown forming on his lips. “This doesn’t look like something you’d do for yourself,” he commented, his voice uncharacteristically thoughtful. “Are you preparing for something… or someone?”

You paused, setting the vest down and meeting his gaze. “It’s not for me. It’s for my sister. She’s expecting a baby soon, and I’m helping her get ready.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and then Blade gave a quiet, almost imperceptible nod. “Ah. Your sister.” His expression softened ever so slightly, and for a moment, you could see a flicker of warmth in his eyes that wasn’t there before. “I see. I suppose that’s… good. For her.”

The words were simple, but the underlying sentiment was there—something rare for Blade. You smiled, knowing that despite his dark and fractured past, he was capable of caring in his own way.

Dan Heng walked into the room quietly, his eyes briefly scanning the contents before landing on the small baby vest you were knitting. His expression remained neutral, but there was a glimmer of suspicion in his eyes as he looked at you. “You’ve been knitting a lot lately,” he commented, his voice calm but his gaze lingering on the tiny clothing you were making.

You looked up from your work, offering him a small smile. “It’s nothing, just a hobby.”

Dan Heng’s brow furrowed slightly. “It doesn’t look like nothing. Is this… for us?”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “No, it’s not for us. It’s for my sister. She’s expecting a baby soon, and I’m helping her prepare.”

Dan Heng blinked, surprised. “Ah, your sister. I see now.” His tone softened, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he glanced at the delicate item in your hands. “I didn’t know you were expecting to become an aunt/uncle.”

You shrugged lightly, feeling the warmth of his unexpected reaction. “I’m not, but I’m happy to help.”

Dan Heng looked at you for a moment longer, as if weighing something in his mind, before his lips curved into a rare, genuine smile. “That’s kind of you. I’m sure your sister will appreciate it.”

His words were quiet but sincere, and in that brief moment, you felt the bond between you deepen.

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punkshort · 5 months ago

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In Another Life | Part II

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader (time travel au)

Chapter Summary: Danny unexpectedly drops Marcus off at your office, but it works to your advantage when you decide to use him as the subject for your next article, and your research brings the two of you much closer together.

Chapter Warnings: language, typical brother embarrassing his sister, threats of physical violence, a little fist fight, some blood from said fist fight, mention of drugs, jealousy, food consumption, fluff, flirting, sexual tension, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, fingering

WC: 8.4K

Series Masterlist

Your apartment had devolved into utter chaos the last two days. It seemed like every time you rounded a corner, you had to dodge some person or scrap of metal or power tool, and it was getting on your last nerve. New York wasn't exactly known for spacious living arrangements as it was, so to have what little space you did covet overrun with your brother's shit really sent you into overdrive.

"Lizard's mom has a house in Queens, why the hell is all this shit here and not in her basement?" you snapped at Danny early one morning after you stubbed your toe on a drill.

"He's worried about her finding out what we're up to," Danny explained, and you immediately scoffed into your coffee.

"She's deaf in one ear and hasn't stepped foot in her basement since his dad died."

Danny agreed to move his time traveling project to Queens later that day.

The scowl on your face smoothed out the moment Marcus entered your kitchen, rubbing sleep from his eyes and looking absolutely devastating in the pajama pants you had bought for him just a few days prior. It took all your willpower not to let your eyes drop below his waist, having already made that mistake the day before. The noticeable bulge hidden amongst the thin sleepwear had you spacing out the entire train ride to work and you couldn't afford any distractions that day. You had a big meeting at eleven where you had to present the next topic for your column and you were scrambling. The source you had for your long-distance relationship idea fell through last minute, so now you were tasked with brainstorming a spectacular backup plan in the next four hours.

"Morning, General. How did you sleep?" Danny asked as he scooped cereal into his mouth.

"Quite well, thank you," he replied, then his eyes met yours and he smiled. "Good morning, my lady."

You grinned like a school girl, your heart fluttering excitedly in your chest when you stammered, "G-good morning." Danny rolled his eyes but chose wisely to keep his mouth shut.

Marcus was able to find his way around by that point, however he still seemed hesitant to just start opening your drawers and cupboards when he needed something. Tired of reminding him to just help himself, you set down your coffee and picked up your loaf of bread from the corner of the counter.

"Same as yesterday?" you asked him as you popped two slices of bread in the toaster, anticipating his answer.

"Please," he said with a grateful nod, then dutifully clasped his hands at his waist.

When Danny watched you crack some eggs into a frying pan along with a few sausage links, his jaw dropped.

"You're making breakfast for him but not for me?" he whined.

You swiveled around and pointed your spatula in his face. "He is our guest, thanks to you," you reminded him, and Danny quickly shut up.

"I do not wish to be a burden," Marcus said. He hadn't moved but his broad frame felt like it took up the entire room.

"You're not a burden, Marcus," you told him softly, then gave him a small, reassuring smile.

"Yeah, no worries, man," Danny said, clapping him firmly on the shoulder before dumping his dirty dishes in the sink. "I'm just giving my sister a hard time because it's obvious she wants to jump your bones."

"Danny!" you shrieked while throwing an oven mitt at his head. He dodged it and ducked out of the kitchen, his laughter fading down the hall towards his bedroom.

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire as you turned your focus back to the frying pan. When Marcus cleared his throat, you closed your eyes in dread because you knew what was coming.

"What did that mean, jump your bones?"

"Nothing, just ignore him," you said, sliding the eggs and sausage onto a plate. A few seconds passed when Danny's voice shouted down the hall, "It's a euphemism for sex!"

"Goddamnit," you muttered through clenched teeth. You began to storm out of the kitchen, prepared to kick Danny's ass, but Marcus shot an arm out to stop you.

"You look lovely today."

You gazed up at him, mouth agape, while you tried to find your voice.

Say something. Anything.

"Thanks. Uh, thank you," you mumbled, smoothing down the pink and white floral dress you picked out. On days where you had your big monthly meeting, you tried to make an effort to look like you belonged at a fashion magazine.

"Do you have plans today?" he asked, his eyes swooping down your frame appreciatively, and for once it didn't make your stomach turn when a man looked at you that way. "Daniel tells me there is a beautiful park in the city. I desire to see it and would very much enjoy your company."

You knew you were reading too much into it, but you couldn't help but feel like he was asking you on a date.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Marcus," you said, "I have to work today. But I promise we will see it before you go home."

Home.

His face fell at the word and he quickly dropped his gaze to the floor, trying to hide his disappointment.

"Of course, I understand. Thank you for breakfast," he said, sliding past you so he could pick up the plate you made for him. You chewed your lip and glanced at the time. If it were any other day, you would just call in sick, but today was too important to miss.

"I promise, okay?" you told him as you gathered your bags. "We will see Central Park before you leave. And whatever else you want."

He nodded and took a bite of his food. Although he appeared to be unbothered, you still felt an enormous amount of guilt.

"Danny!" you called from the front door, "this shit better be gone by the time I get home!"

"Yes, Mom!" he shouted back sarcastically from the bathroom. You rolled your eyes and gave Marcus a quick wave before hurrying out the door.

You were fucked.

You had one hour until your meeting and you had absolutely nothing.

Already, you had done your usual brainstorming techniques five times over. You scrolled through social media, hoping to find some trend or topic that might be popular and garner attention, but you were coming up dry, so you kept circling back to your long distance relationship idea. You had sent out every feeler you could think of, asking any of your usual contacts if they had anyone you could use for a story about your chosen topic, but so far you weren't having any luck.

Suddenly, your phone rang and you lunged for it, hoping it was a lead, then groaned when you saw Danny's contact picture pop up on the screen.

"Hello?"

"Hey..." he began, and you could tell by the tone in his voice that you should brace yourself.

"What did you do?"

He laughed on the other end. "I didn't do anything. Actually, I did do something - I am getting all this stuff out of your place, but there's just one thing."

"Spit it out," you said, your eyes flickering to the time. 45 minutes to go.

"I can't take Marcus with us to Queens. There's no room in Lizard's car."

"So let him stay in the apartment."

"I'm not leaving him all alone in New York City!" he protested. You heard some familiar sounds in the background of the call and you frowned.

"Where are you?"

Danny paused and you instantly began to put your defenses up.

"I'm... in your lobby. With Marcus and Lizard."

"You're what?!" you exclaimed in a loud whisper, glancing around to make sure nobody overheard you in your cubical.

"I told to him to just stay in the lobby and read your crappy magazines and if anyone asks, to tell them he's here for meeting."

"Danny! You can't do this, I can't babysit a fucking Roman General right now!"

You heard Danny walk a few paces away, presumably to get some privacy so Marcus wouldn't overhear, before he answered.

"He'll stay downstairs, I promise. I told him what floor you're on in case of an emergency but maybe you can pop down and take him for lunch. You've been making heart eyes at this Roman General for the past three days, don't try and lie."

Anger coursed through your veins but you were running out of precious time, so you gave up.

"Fine," you seethed.

"Great!" Danny said cheerily. "But I might not be back til late. We're burning tons of time moving all this stuff, we got work to do."

"So I have to bring him home?"

"Yes, you'll have to bring him home. You're going there anyway, aren't you? What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is he's going to be bored and lonely all day down there!" you snapped.

"He's not going to be bored. He's in New York City. The elevators alone are blowing his mind right now."

Despite yourself, you smiled when you remembered how in awe he was the first time he rode in an elevator.

"Tell him I'll be down to take him to lunch in like, a little over an hour. I have a meeting at eleven."

"You're the best!" Danny said, then before you could respond, the line went dead.

You grumbled obscenities under your breath when you heard a familiar voice say your name from the opening of your cube.

"Hey, ready for the meeting?" Matt asked. You practically dropped your phone from his sudden appearance and he chuckled. "Did I scare you?"

"Yes," you hissed as you began to gather your things, trying to hide your annoyance. You looked over the top of your cubical wall, hoping and praying you would see someone - anyone - else to walk with to the conference room, but you were shit out of luck.

"Doing anything fun tonight?" he inevitably asked, like he always did, and you sighed. You made the mistake of hooking up with him after one particularly rowdy work happy hour and ever since then, Matt's been waiting for his next opportunity. "I know a guy who works at that new French restaurant, I can get us a reservation and then, who knows..."

"I have a friend in from out of town," was all you said. No matter how many times you turned him down, he remained persistent.

"That's cool. Girls night, then?"

"My friend's a guy," you quickly corrected him.

Matt stumbled over his feet as you reached the conference room. It was the biggest one on your floor, directly across from the elevator banks. The entire wall was made of glass, floor to ceiling, so you could see through the room to the opposite wall, where there was a fantastic view of the city.

"Oh, like a cousin, or..."

"Nope," you replied, voice clipped so he knew the topic was closed. With a frustrated huff, Matt plopped down next to you and flipped open his portfolio. You gave him a sideways glance, momentarily feeling bad for him. He was by all accounts a good looking guy. He wrote a column for the men's health section and based on his physique, you assumed he practiced what he preached, but sadly his looks is where his good qualities came to an end.

Charlotte, your editor, breezed into the room, her presence enough to make everyone sitting at the long table quiet right down. She ghosted her palm over her perfectly coiffed grey hair and sat her portfolio down in front of her chair at the head of the table. As you got yourself organized, your mind scrambling to come up with a lie about a long distance relationship source, Charlotte placed her phone down delicately next to her leather portfolio, then slowly uncapped the expensive looking pen someone once told you was gifted to her by Marc Jacobs. Everybody watched and waited until she was ready, which was signified by a dainty clearing of her throat and a quick, sweeping glance over the table followed by a curt nod. At that point, the usual routine began.

Without having to be asked, one by one everybody took their turn presenting their idea for the month. Each person's name was listed on the agenda in the order Charlotte wished, and mercifully yours was dead last.

Your anxiety began to spike when Sara, the girl who was before you in nutrition started to wrap up her brief speech about some gluten free lifestyle benefit bullshit.

Keep it short. Keep it vague, and you'll figure it out later. Everyone wants to leave, it's almost lunch.

Then some movement by the elevators caught your eye. Your breathing ceased and you broke out into a cold sweat when you saw Marcus had stepped out of the elevator and was fucking talking to the receptionist. Then you locked eyes when they both turned to look towards the conference room.

"Shit," you whispered.

Matt nudged your ribs and you startled, glancing around the room to see Sara had sat down and half the table was staring at you, waiting for you to begin. You shakily stood up and swallowed the lump in your throat when Marcus began to weave his way towards you through the maze of cubicles.

Call it a stroke of genius or divine inspiration, but an incredible idea hit you right as you opened your mouth to speak. You had about half a second to decide if you should wing it and trust your gut or talk out of your ass about your first idea.

Fuck it.

"This month, I have a very interesting idea that I'm super excited about exploring," you began, watching when Marcus came to a stop outside the glass door. He looked back and forth, his fingers twitching at his sides. "My topic will be Romance without Technology," you announced with a confident smile. "I'll be researching how adults navigate their love lives without the help of dating apps, social media, or even texting," you said, listing each item on your finger as you spoke.

"Who's that guy?" Sara asked, pointing towards the door. It was at that point you realized most of the table was gawking at the tall, broad, handsome looking Roman General waiting to get your attention.

You smiled and walked toward the door with your arm outstretched.

"This is Marcus," you said, holding the door open and ushering him inside. He murmured your name but you cut him off. "He's the subject I'll be interviewing for this month's article. He doesn't use technology of any kind. In fact, he doesn't even own a cell phone."

The entire room gasped and Marcus looked around, confused, but understood what you needed him to do. He raised one arm up to greet the room and said, "Good morning."

Most of the women began to whisper excitedly to one another, shooting him looks and giggling behind their hands until Charlotte cleared her throat and once again, the room fell into silence.

You chewed your lower lip anxiously as you waited for Charlotte to silently appraise you both. Finally, you saw the corner of her mouth twitch and she gave you a barely perceptible nod.

"I look forward to reading it."

She stood abruptly and collected her things, signifying the end of the meeting, and relief flooded your veins.

"Are you okay?" you asked Marcus, pulling him to the side while the room stood and slowly filtered out. He nodded.

"Yes. There were many vehicles that passed by with bright lights and loud sirens. When I asked what it was for, I was told there was an emergency."

You giggled and shook your head. "So the fearsome General was scared?"

His brows knitted together for a moment before he answered.

"No. I grew concerned for your well being."

Your heart could have melted on the spot.

"Oh," you said softly, and just like that, the annoying little flutter in your chest was back. "I-I'm fine, but thank you. That was... that's really sweet, actually."

He grinned as his eyes swooped down your frame, causing butterflies to awaken in your stomach.

"Did you wanna get something to eat?" you asked as you stared up at him, his large frame making you feel so tiny in comparison. "It'll be on the company's dime since I kinda just signed you up to be the subject of my next article."

He cocked an eyebrow at you and shoved his hands into the pockets of his khakis, the action bringing up the memory of you measuring his inseam and you felt your face begin to heat up. God, you must have looked ridiculous, standing there in front of Marcus in the middle of your office, looking up at him with big doe eyes.

"Of course," he replied, "but what do you intend to write about me?"

You grinned and hurried back to your abandoned chair, scooping up your things before pointing to the door.

"Let me drop this stuff off at my desk and I'll explain everything."

"My marriage was arranged," he reminded you from across the table draped in white linen. You decided to take him to a nicer steakhouse not too far from your office, one that didn't enforce a dress code but still had good food that you rarely sprung for out of your own pocket.

"I know, but I'm sure you can still give me an idea of what romance was like," you replied. "For example, did you get her any gifts? Give flowers? Take her to places that were meaningful to you? Or to her?"

Marcus dropped his gaze to the table and shrugged. "We knew each other for such a short period of time, there was unfortunately not much in the way of romance."

You clocked the forlorn look in his eye and began to feel guilty for bringing it up. "I'm sorry. I'll just make something up, don't worry about it. No one'll know."

"No, no, I wish to help," he said quickly, his hand stretching across the table to loop two of his fingers around yours. "Just because I do not have many personal stories to share does not mean I cannot help with your research."

"I don't want to reopen any old wounds," you explained, your eyes fixed on the way his hand linked with yours so naturally on the tabletop.

He chuckled softly, his smile causing his deep brown eyes to sparkle and a dimple to appear on his cheek.

"It was a very long time ago."

When your salads arrived at your table, Marcus released your hand to pick up his fork, frowning down at the bowl before asking, "This is the salad named after Julius Caesar?"

You giggled and shook your head, the sound causing him to lift his chin with a warm smile.

"No," you said once you collected yourself, "No, it's named after another Caesar. The guy who created it, I think."

Marcus didn't seem to mind he was wrong or that you found his error so funny. In fact, he enjoyed it.

"You have a beautiful laugh."

Instantly, your cheeks flushed and you shyly looked down to focus on your salad. "Thank you," you said softly.

He watched you silently for another minute more, admiring the way your eyes fluttered shut when you tasted something good or tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, then took a hesitant bite of his salad.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise and you grinned from behind your napkin.

"Delicious."

You giggled again and nodded. "Yes, it is."

Once your salads were taken away and before your main course arrived, you pulled out a notebook and flipped to a blank page.

"Let's start from the beginning. You don't have to go into excruciating detail. Maybe just some things you know of that others did to... court women? Is that even the right word?" you mumbled the last part to yourself as you scribbled something at the top of your paper.

"It was seen as a sign of weakness for a man to become infatuated with a woman," he said, and you looked up at him in surprise.

"Why's that?"

"Marriages rarely were based on affection. They were viewed as a way to improve your social standing, but it was mutually beneficial," he explained, his finger tracing the design engrained in his fork. "Women were taken care of, looked after and tended to while the men were able to claim a high ranking senator or nobleman as their family. And, of course..." he trailed off, his cheeks staining pink when he dropped his gaze to the table and said, "received the traditional benefits of having a wife."

You smirked to yourself as you wrote notes on your pad of paper.

"Thought you were used to talking about sex openly," you teased. He cleared his throat and your pen paused over your paper to meet his eye.

"I admit, at times I feel nervous around you."

"Me?" you balked, but he just nodded and your brain scrambled for something to say that wouldn't entirely embarrass you. You landed on deflection.

"I thought it was a sign of weakness to grow infatuated?"

He grinned and leaned back in his chair. "I never said I agreed with that line of thought."

"No, I suppose you didn't," you said, shyly dropping your eyes to your paper. His gaze was too intense. Every time you looked at him it felt like he could see right through you. "So, tell me. Hypothetically. If we lived in Rome and I caught your eye, what would you do? How would you win me over?"

Marcus took a deep breath, his broad shoulders relaxing as he thought about your question for a moment, staring at your pen hovering over your paper.

"I would write you letters every day," he said softly, forcing your eyes back onto him. His voice was low and deep, smooth yet firm as he spoke. "I would write of your beauty. I would compare the color of your eyes to the flowers and fauna that grew in my garden, delicate and all encompassing. I would tell you how food tastes better on my tongue when you are around, and how I ache for you when you are not near. I would try to explain how difficult it is to breathe without you, and how I would gladly die a thousand deaths just to feel the softness of your lips against mine."

You stared at him, hand frozen where you left it resting on your notebook. He waited patiently until you finally blinked yourself out of your stupor and inhaled a shaky breath.

"Uh, s-so love letters, then," you stammered, shakily scribbling down something incoherent on your paper. Jesus fucking Christ, get it together.

"Yes. Love letters," he repeated. He sounded so cool and collected. How was he so relaxed? A moment ago, he was admitting you made him nervous. Maybe he was just better at hiding it than you.

Your server arrived and placed your food down in front of you, the heavenly scent wafting up and making your mouth water. Placing your pen down in favor of picking up your fork and knife, you asked, "Have you ever had steak?"

"I am not sure. What animal is it?" he asked, picking up his fork and testing the tenderness of his steak by giving it a little poke.

"It's cow. Try it, it's good."

"Cows were used for farming," he said before slicing a piece off and examining it closely. "We could not afford to slaughter them."

You watched as he popped a bite into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully before giving you a smile and nod.

"Good?" you asked, your heart skipping a beat at finding another food he liked.

"Very," he replied once he swallowed. "You are quite perceptive and have good taste."

"Thank you," you answered, taking another bite and trying not to preen too much from the praise.

"So tell me," he said after he finished up his filet and moved on to his potato, which he eyed wearily. "Do you not receive love letters as a form of courtship?"

"Uh, no," you replied with a laugh. "Closest thing to that nowadays would be a text and even those are... sub par."

"So what is it that you do?"

"What do you mean?"

He pointed to your notepad with his fork. "For romance. What activities do you take part in?"

"Oh," you said, wiping your mouth and pushing your empty plate to the side. "You mean dates. Uh, this actually. Get dinner together. Sometimes see a movie," you paused and rethought your word choice when you saw his face. "A show, or a play. Um, sometimes go to a bar. Stuff like that."

He nodded and let your answer roll around in his head for a moment before asking, "So, is this a date?"

Marcus smiled when he saw you become flustered. You thanked the server for clearing your plates and leaving the bill before responding.

"Uh, I don't know," you finally said shyly, making his smile grow even wider. "Do you want - I mean, well... I'm technically working, but, you know, if - if that was something you were interested in, then, I guess w-we could classify this, or, you know, it could be construed-"

"Yes or no," he said, interrupting your insane ramblings with a soft look and an outstretched hand. Your face was hot with embarrassment but you reached out for his hand, anyway.

"Yes."

"Yes," he repeated, squeezing your fingers. You grinned and nodded, your stomach doing cartwheels as you tried to steady your breath.

Once you paid with your corporate credit card, you walked back out to the street, Marcus holding the doors open for you before offering you his hand. You sheepishly accepted it and walked a few paces in the direction of your office before he stopped you.

"Must you return to work?"

You gave him a sad smile and took a step closer. "Yeah, I'm sorry. But maybe I can play hooky tomorrow."

Marcus raised a curious eyebrow at you while playing with the material of your dress with his free hand, gently pinching and feeling the fabric between his fingers. "What does-"

"It means I'll call in sick without actually being sick so I can have the day off," you explained without him needing to finish asking.

He grinned and dropped your dress in favor of cupping your cheek. "I would like that very much."

"Me, too," you said, gazing up at him while leaning into his touch. His strong, calloused hand felt rough against your skin, but you liked it. As if reading your mind, he stroked his thumb over your cheekbone and murmured, "You are so soft."

You hummed, not trusting yourself to speak when you watched him slowly lean down to your level, your eyes fluttering shut as you waited to feel his mouth against yours. But just when his shadow got close enough to block the sun behind your eyelids, you heard someone shout your name.

You swiveled around angrily, your hand still laced together with Marcus's as you looked for the person who interrupted one of the more romantic moments of your life.

And then you saw Matt stalking up to you from the direction of the restaurant.

"Is this why you've been ghosting me?"

You frowned and tilted your head. "What?"

Matt came to a stop in front of you both and jutted his chin towards Marcus. "Too busy sleeping with your profiles to hang out?"

"W-what?" you stammered again, too shocked to fight back with your usual vigor. You felt Marcus stiffen next to you. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he immediately sensed your discomfort. "I'm not - this isn't-"

"Oh, sure," he sneered, crossing his arms, his biceps bulging out of his thin dress shirt. "I saw you two in there. You were three seconds away from crawling into his lap."

Your mouth hung open in shock and humiliation. "Were you following me?"

Before Matt could answer, Marcus took a step forward.

"I am going to have to insist you stop yelling," he seethed, and even though Matt followed his own advice in his articles and worked out plenty, Marcus still towered over him.

Matt's eyes went wide for just a moment before his bravado returned. "C'mon, man. She's just using you, don't you see that?" Matt prodded, then he scoffed. "Unless you're good with it. Then by all means, have fun. She's a good fuck but I don't think she's got much else."

It all happened so fast, you couldn't remember Marcus dropping your hand and cocking his fist. You couldn't remember the first sickening crunch of his knuckles against Matt's nose, but you did remember hearing his pained howl.

Marcus only landed a few more blows before you came to your senses and tugged him by the shoulder. It was laughable to think you would be strong enough to move him, but you must have also said something because Marcus immediately stopped and turned back to you.

"Jesus Christ!" you cried shakily, hands trembling as they hovered in the air. You weren't sure what to do and people were staring as they walked by, driving up your anxiety. Marcus was fine except for his skinned knuckles, but Matt was much worse. He had a busted lip and already a bright blue shiner forming on his cheekbone, and when he stood to face you both, you noticed another cut on the other cheek.

"The fuck is wrong with you!" he spat, blood dripping down his chin.

"Mind how you speak to women and perhaps they will wish to spare you their time," Marcus snarled. Matt turned his attention to you, the pad of his thumb swiping against his lower lip.

"Who is this guy? What the fuck is his deal?"

You took a deep breath, your mind settling and your fortitude returning.

"If you had just backed off when I said no the first dozen times, maybe you didn't have to find out!"

"Oh, come off it. You like the chase. You get off on guys trailing after you-"

"You're the only fucking one, Matt!" you yelled, no longer caring who was looking. "We hooked up once, years ago, and you just can't take the hint! I'm not interested!"

His eyes clouded with disbelief as he propped his hands on his hips and shifted his weight to one foot, standing there as if he were somehow new to being shot down.

"I'm telling Charlotte about this. About your little..." he trailed off and gestured vaguely over your shoulder, "guard dog. I'm sure she will love to hear about one of your profiles assaulting an employee."

You crossed your arms defiantly and made a face. "Oh, yeah? Do that and I'll recommend to HR they give you a drug test."

His face paled for a moment but he tried to hide it. "Drugs? I'm not on drugs."

"Oh, so you're telling me your balls are just naturally that shriveled up and small? Because, shit," you laughed, "if it's not steroids, you might want to see a doctor about that. That's not normal."

Matt swallowed tightly and clamped his mouth shut. You smiled and turned around to Marcus, who had been listening to your entire argument and probably understanding less than half of it.

"Let's go."

You tugged on his arm and he obediently followed, leaving Matt to lick his wounds.

"Your work - the building is the other way."

"I know," you said, raising your arm to hail a cab. "I'll figure something out. We're going home."

Marcus watched as you paced around your kitchen, phone pressed against your ear as you spoke to your boss and faked a sudden illness that included the word cramps. When you finished up, you looked over at him from across the room.

He looked so normal now. Sure, he spoke a little strangely but without his tunic, clad in khakis and a polo shirt, he looked like he fit right in. Like he always belonged right there.

"I don't think I even thanked you," you said. Marcus smiled and shrugged.

"No need."

He was so damn adorable, it was killing you. "I've never met anyone like you before," you confessed, leaning a hip against the edge of your counter.

"In a good way, I hope?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. You giggled and nodded, the sound making his heart soar.

"Yes, in a good way."

He brought his hand up to smooth over his mouth nervously and your stomach dropped.

"Oh, my god! Your hands!" you exclaimed, crossing the room to snatch one of his massive hands within both of yours.

"It is alright, there is no-"

"Come on, let me clean up your knuckles at least," you said, pulling him towards your tiny bathroom, which somehow felt even smaller when you were both crowding the space. "Sit here," you told him, pointing towards the closed toilet seat, "I have some stuff somewhere," you muttered under your breath as you rifled through the medicine cabinet behind your mirror, then tugged open the drawer in the vanity that always stuck. Marcus did as he was told and watched you with amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Ah ha!" you announced victoriously when you held up a bottle of clear liquid and a box of bandages. He smiled as you washed your hands before meticulously laying everything out you would need. Picking up a cotton ball, you doused it with the liquid and turned to him, having little choice but to stand between his knees and lifting one of his hands to look at it closer.

He splayed his hand out flat, palm pressing against your palm while you carefully dabbed at the dried blood.

"You have laid with that man before?" he asked out of the blue. Your cheeks felt warm when you nodded and avoided his eye.

"A long time ago. It was a mistake."

He didn't say anything else for a few minutes, just watched as you tenderly cared for his broken skin, your proximity and touch overwhelming his senses.

"Did he mistreat you?"

Quickly, you shook your head. "Oh god, no, nothing like that," you told him. "It just... wasn't a good fit."

Marcus couldn't stop staring at the soft slopes of your face and the bright sparkle in your irises, growing infatuated with the way your brow scrunched together in concentration while you worked.

"Did he not worship you?" he asked softly, watching as your breath hitched and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

"Uh, no," you finally said, setting down the cotton ball in favor of a tube with some salve. You squeezed a small dot onto your finger and began to apply it carefully to his knuckles. "Can't say there's been a lot of worshipping happening in my life," you added with a dry chuckle.

"No?"

You shook your head and wiped your finger with a tissue and tried not to let his injured hand that had fallen to your hip distract you.

"No," you whispered, your shaky voice betraying you.

He tsked and brought his other hand up to your hip, slowly splaying his fingers wide and crumpling the fabric of your dress. "Shameful. You deserve to be worshipped."

All of the air rushed from your lungs, your body thrumming with desire. Marcus noticed the fine hairs on your arms raise when goosebumps flashed across your skin and he delicately picked up your hand, flipping it over so he could press a kiss against the inside of your wrist.

His deep brown eyes met yours and with his lips still brushing against your skin, whispered, "Will you allow me to worship you?"

You found yourself nodding before your voice had a chance to catch up with you, then his hands gently cupped your face and pulled you down to his level. The moment your lips finally met, you forgot how to breathe, how to move, how to think. His lips were so unexpectedly soft and tender as they slowly massaged against your own that it sent you into a tailspin.

You pressed your mouth against his with a little more force, the fear that he may just stop at one kiss gripping your throat and driving you forward. He made a soft, surprised noise in the back of his throat when you began to kiss him with more intensity, but he didn't skip a beat. He tightened his hold on your face, fingers dimpling your cheeks and his nose bumping lightly against yours.

Your hands pressed against his chest, then your fingers curled to grip his shirt, wanting to tug him closer, wanting to feel him everywhere but you were still in your stupid fucking tiny bathroom and it was difficult to maneuver. Seemingly anticipating your next move, you felt Marcus stand. Your head tipped back, neck craned upwards at an impossible angle, refusing to break the kiss even for a moment so he began to carefully walk you backwards towards the door. Every step towards your bedroom felt like you were walking deeper and deeper into the sea, drowning in his overwhelming presence and touch.

Marcus's palm slid over your shoulder, down your arm and only stopping when he found your ribs. He wound his arm around you as you both stumbled through your doorway with as little grace as you would expect from two people growing more and more intertwined by the moment.

Once you felt your mattress pressing into the backs of your knees, you released your death grip on his shirt so you could reach behind you and unzip your dress. The cool air washed over your bare skin when it pooled around your feet and suddenly, you felt extremely exposed. What kinds of women was he used to being with? It felt like every day when you went into work you learned something new that men found desirable in women. How could you possibly be expected to keep up in the modern world, let alone with what Marcus might find appealing?

But when his palm reconnected with your middle and he felt your smooth skin under his hand, he grew desperate for more to the point where you could sense it, pushing your insecurities to the back of your mind. His injured hand left your cheek so he could glide both massive hands over the soft swell of your curves, his fingers twitching as he sought out more of your skin but when he came in contact with your bra, his hands stopped.

You could feel his hesitation by the way his lips stalled against yours so you took his hands and wrapped them around your back, wordlessly guiding him to the clasp as your tongue slid inside his mouth.

He figured out the hooks on your bra after only one or two fumbles and it dropped to the floor to join your dress.

"Fuck," he whispered when he finally managed to pull away to admire your nearly naked body. Your eyes widened with surprise.

"I don't think I've heard you curse before."

He inhaled a ragged breath, his eyes still drinking you in when he murmured, "I did not have a reason to before now."

He gently grazed over your breast, barely even touching you while he watched with fascination as your nipple tightened from the brief contact. "You have stirred something within me," he said softly, his eyes and hands continuing to roam. "Something I believed did not exist for a long time."

You leaned into his touch when he cupped your breast, enraptured with how soft you felt under his hand. Your fingers curled around the waistband of his khakis, sliding your nails across his lower stomach, across the coarse hair you very much wished to see while his mouth descended on your throat. His beard tickled the spot below your ear and it sent a shudder down your spine. His lips curved into a smile against your skin at the involuntary movement and he asked, "What else do you like?"

It was becoming difficult to breathe. The way he was so slow and careful yet sure of himself was unlike anything you had ever experienced before with a man. It was making your knees weak and your head swim.

When it took too long for you to answer his question, he lightly pinched your skin between your teeth, causing warmth to bloom just underneath the mark.

"T-touch me," you stammered, your eyes sliding closed and your head tipping back, surrendering yourself completely to his prowess.

His hand slipped down your body, over your stomach and underneath your panties. You gasped sharply when you felt one thick finger part your folds, sliding over your clit and dipping into your entrance, drenching him with your arousal.

"Lay down for me," he whispered in your ear while wrapping his free arm around your back, holding you steady so you didn't collapse from the torture of his singular finger working in and out.

He laid you down carefully in your bed, his hand never losing its rhythm and his mouth still ghosting over your neck and chest.

You whined and bucked your hips under him, fingers getting tangled in his thick curls while he whispered words of adoration into your skin, imprinting himself on you forever.

He could feel you growing rigid, your muscles tense and your exhale coming in short bursts. He brushed his lips over yours at the same time his thumb grazed over your clit, making your jaw drop and a sob erupt from your throat.

"Relax," he murmured, increasing the speed of his wrist while slowly sliding his tongue alongside yours. "Relax and let go for me, cor mea," he said against your mouth.

Your body convulsed beneath him when he brought you to your climax with just one finger. His mouth locked over yours, swallowing down your cries and allowing them to feed his ever growing desire. When you whimpered and lightly pushed his hand away, he withdrew from between your legs but continued to deepen the kiss. It was so sweet and loving that it sent you reeling, wondering how you would ever find satisfaction from another man again after Marcus.

"Take these off," you breathed, tugging on his belt loops. He reared back to sit on his heels while deftly undoing the button and zipper of his khakis, leaving them gaping open at his waist before yanking his polo shirt over his head and tossing it onto the floor. You bit your lip, admiring his bare chest for the first time while he pushed his pants down and kicked them off.

"Christ," you muttered, eyes trailing over his tanned and scarred skin. You reached out and traced a particularly jagged one on his shoulder but he was more focused on ridding you of your underwear. If you ever questioned the validity of his time traveling story, any doubt was erased from your mind when you saw his body.

"Did these hurt?"

He paused and followed your gaze to his marked up torso.

"Some, at the time, yes."

Your expression softened to one of pity as you continued to scan his body, losing count of the shiny, pale scars.

"W-what... how did these..." you trailed off, unable to keep the emotion from your voice. Marcus cupped your cheek and pressed a kiss against your lips.

"It is alright. I have been in many battles. It is my job, and just like yours, I must do it."

You laughed but you didn't really find it funny. "You risk your life every day while I write about best places to take a first date or what to do if you're faking orgasms with your boyfriend. You can't compare the two."

Marcus cocked an eyebrow as he hovered above you. "And do you have much experience faking orgasms?"

You felt your face flush. You knew he was just trying to distract you, but it was working. "Some."

He leaned down and kissed the tip of your nose, then each one of your eyelids before asking, "But not a moment ago?"

You shook your head and raked your fingers through his hair, making him growl at the sensation of your nails across his scalp. While he focused on positioning himself at your opening, you dragged your mouth over his shoulder, tongue dipping to trace over his scar. You couldn't do anything about them now except show them love, something you were realizing Marcus was desperately lacking in his life back home.

Home. The thought entered your brain right when he first pushed inside you, stealing the air from your lungs and bringing tears to your eyes. You did your best to brush it aside and focus on the present, like the way he stretched you open or the soft noise he made when he fully sheathed his heavy length deep within you.

"Fuck," you gasped, clawing at his shoulders while you tried to get your bearings.

He released a groan so guttural and deep it had you squeezing around him. Your mouth found a home on his neck as he slowly began to rock his hips, your lips and teeth leaving temporary marks over his skin to join the scars. Every kiss was slow, every touch was attentive and it was hard to stop yourself from giving into him.

"You - oh," he moaned, eyes sliding shut as he lost himself in the moment. It might have been the first time you'd seen him ever falter, and the thought sent a fresh wave of arousal through you. "You are so soft and beautiful," he mumbled before finding your mouth once again and plunging his tongue past your teeth. "I fear it is almost too much for me to bear," he confessed between kisses.

Marcus was unlike any man you had ever met in so many ways. His vulnerability staggered you. Most men you had known would consider it weak or embarrassing to speak the way he spoke, but Marcus managed to do it without sacrificing an ounce of his raw masculinity.

His broad shoulders and thick arms caged you in, giving you a feeling of safety and security you never felt before with another person. It was always you who had to be strong, who had to figure everything out and be responsible. And for once, with Marcus, it felt like you could let go and not have to worry.

Your body relaxed beneath him, legs spreading even wider to accommodate his powerful thrusts. He pulled an arm out from underneath you to press down on your thigh, pushing it into the mattress next to you in order to open your hips up even more. Then he leaned up just a fraction so he could grind his hips against you with his new found space, drawing a shaky moan from your throat when he came in contact with your clit.

Marcus paid attention. He took note of what you liked, what made you writhe and gasp and he teased you with it until you were begging him for more. He couldn't deny you, so he gave you what you asked. When you whined for him to go faster, he did. When you begged him to touch you, he did. He gave you everything you asked for until your legs trembled and your breath quickened and you were tossing your head back into your pillow, his name on your lips as you fell apart for him.

Then you gazed up at him, eyes smoldering, your lips swollen and parted and looking more beautiful and satisfied than he ever could imagine. Pulling him down to you by the back of his neck, you whispered his name in his ear and he shuddered, his hips faltering for a moment all because of one simple word from your lips.

"Marcus," you whispered again, mouth sucking a bruise into his neck. "Are you going to come for me?"

"Yes," he groaned, his eyes fluttering shut as he neared his peak. A lazy smile spread across your face, body still flooding with pleasure as he fucked you a little harder seeking his own.

His hand fell to your side, pulling you closer, rolling your hips in rhythm with his, and with his teeth bared and eyes flashing with hunger, he came with a broken groan that sent a shiver down your spine. You gasped at the feeling of him emptying himself inside you, eyes squeezing shut in ecstasy. His mouth crashed over yours with your eyes still closed. Your tongues danced together, first with lust, then once your heart rates slowed and your skin stopped tingling, with something more. Something like longing and desperation to hold onto the moment as long as you possibly could.

You both spent a little too long sharing tender kisses and gentle touches. For once, the world around you ceased to make noise and the only thing that mattered was what to order for dinner so you didn't have to leave your bed the rest of the night. You picked Mediterranean food and spent the hour after it was delivered discussing how it compared to the food he was used to, neither of you daring to mention the elephant in the room.

You curled up into his side, his arm draped around you, his back leaning against your headboard as you watched a romantic comedy together. Just as you were explaining the plot and how you had used the movie as inspiration for an article the year prior, a breakthrough was happening in Queens.

The volume on your phone was off and neither of you were paying attention to it lighting up on your nightstand, too busy ignoring the movie in favor of fusing your lips together again with your limbs slowly tangling together under the covers to notice the text come through.

Danny: staying in Queens for the night, we're on a roll. The mighty General shall be out of your hair b4 you know it.

#marcus acacias x reader #marcus acacius fanfiction #marcus acacius x f!reader #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius x reader #general marcus acacius #marcus acacius fic #marcus acacius #gladiator 2 fic #gladiator 2 #gladiator 2 fanfiction #in another life fic #marcus acacias smut

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traveler-at-heart · 6 months ago

Text

Lessons of Love

Summary: So, Nerd!Natasha and Fem!R, their first date and everything fluffy. I just have a lot of thoughts about them and maybe this will be a series (and it will eventually contain G!P Natasha so if that's not your thing, you've been warned). Nerd!Natasha x Fem!Rogers Reader

Don’t count the days, make the days count.

Natasha’s father had told her that as if it was ancient wisdom and not a fortune cookie message.

It was also easier to say it when you didn’t have to attend high school. There were days when she couldn’t cope with it, like when the football team was agitated before a match, or there was some drama around the most popular people in school.

Those times were a stark reminder that Natasha had no one to talk to, a confidant to mock the jocks or a friend to share the gossip with.

Genius comes with a cost.

That one was her mom’s way of comforting Natasha.

She was the smartest person in school, miles above her peers. What she didn’t have in social intelligence, she more than made up with a sharp, quick and brilliant mind.

But as she entered the chem lab, and took a seat at the last table where she was always alone, Natasha wished that things could be different.

If only for a day.

“Morning, everyone” professor Fury greeted as people went to their seats. “You might have heard about an explosion during class” the few giggles that were heard were quickly silenced by Fury’s glare. “So, to keep this from happening again, we’ll switch the teams for the rest of the semester”

Natasha’s heart raced. What if people could choose and then she’d end up front of the class, everyone staring because no one picked her?

“So, alphabetically” Fury read the list, Natasha going over the name that was before hers…

Rogers.

She looked at you, sitting next to Wanda on one of the first tables. You waved at the twins when their names were called, laughing at Wanda’s annoyed stare. Being paired with her brother meant she’d do most of the work while he fooled around.

“Rogers and Romanoff”

Natasha saw you gathering your things and looking around. When you found her, a smile broke out and you walked to join her in the back of the room.

How does one greet the most popular girl in school? Head of cheerleaders, little sister of legendary quarterback Steve Rogers, not to mention the most beautiful girl in all of Shield High.

Not that Natasha was paying attention.

“Hey, Natty” you greeted, sitting next to her and looking around. “Wow, you can really see everything from here”

“I-I guess”

Natasha wanted to crawl under the table and hide. What was she supposed to talk about?

“Guess it’s my lucky day” you said, unable to deal with the silence. Natasha had a hard time understanding if you were being sarcastic. “I mean, you’re the capitan of the Science Club. So, that makes you the best partner anyone could hope for in Chemistry”

Natasha didn’t have time to answer, as Fury finally started with the lesson. Once he gave you all the instructions and wrote some exercises on the board, everyone went silent. Of course, Natasha was done in half the time.

“Show off” you teased and felt your heart beating faster when Natasha actually laughed.

“Want help?” she offered and you went over your notes, nodding.

“I think I got most of them except… this one?” you pointed with your pencil. Natasha leaned, reading again and pulling her chair closer to yours.

“You see, when you choose a coefficient, try to select one as low as possible”

“And that would affect all of the atoms in the molecule” you said and Natasha nodded. “Ok, I think I got it”

But the redhead kept staring as you began to write again, and you poked her side.

“Stop it, Romanoff”

You went back to work, missing the way Natasha blushed at the physical contact.

“Good. Now, I want you to get to know each other even better, so you’ll do a project for next class. Do not sass me, youths” Fury raised his voice as everyone began to protest.

“We’ve known each other our whole lives, can we skip this one?” Pietro said while pointing to his sister, and everyone laughed.

“No” Fury said, turning to write on the board again. “Do some research on why it’s important to balance chemical equations and what other parts of chemistry rely on this skill. Bonus points for concrete examples where it helped advance important research on other fields”

He dismissed the class, and everyone began to pack their bags to move to the next session.

“So… uh… how do you wanna do this? Wanna meet somewhere?” Natasha said, unfamiliar with team projects. Teachers would let her work alone, because pairing her with someone meant she’d do all the work and split the credit.

“Yeah, not my place though. The boys have their weekly pool game after football practice and they can get so loud” you rolled your eyes, walking out of the classroom next to the girl.

Natasha’s stomach turned at the idea of being anywhere near the school jocks.

“So, the school library?” you offered, giving her a way out in case her house was off limits.

“I think my mom has more books about it than the library”

Damn it, where did that come from? She couldn’t handle a class with you and now she was suggesting her place? Where would you even work? And Melina would make some embarrassing remark, or Alexei would ask a million questions and say something silly…

“Yeah, cool. I’ll stop by after cheerleading practice”

“Let me give you the address”

“Natty, I know where you live” you chuckled, surprised that she seemed surprised. “Remember your birthday party? I was there”

“That was like seven years ago”

“Yeah, so? I remember” you smiled. “Gotta run, see you later”

Natasha stared as you walked to History class. You turned around one last time, smiling shyly and waving at her.

Natasha waved back, her cheeks turning red at being caught staring.

Crap, she wasn’t going to survive this assignment.

—

You went up the steps, fixing your hair before ringing the doorbell.

God, how were you going to manage this afternoon with Natasha? You were barely able to keep it together during class.

You were still torn on how to manage your fight or flight response when the door opened.

“Y/N!” Natasha’s sister practically shouted your name.

“Hey, Yelena. I’m here to…”

“You know my name” the girl said.

“Well, yeah, you’re Nat’s sister”

Speak of the devil.

“Yelena!” Natasha went down the stairs in record time.

“What?” Yelena said, talking back as soon as Natasha switched to Russian. They went back and forth for a while, and you stood outside, wondering if you’d ever manage to get in.

“Sorry about that” Nat finally turned to you, Yelena leaving the room in a rush.

“No worries. I couldn’t understand you. Literally”

“My room’s this way” Natasha said, scratching the back of her neck.

A second later, she regretted letting you go up the stairs first. Your skirt moved with each step you took, toned legs in full display. Natasha had to pray she wouldn’t trip on the way up.

“Which door?” you turned to look at her, her ears red. You bit your lip, trying not to think how adorable she looked all flustered.

“The one on the right” she pointed and you nodded, waiting for her to tell you it was ok to open it.

“Wow” you said, looking around at the shelves full of books and scale models of different machines.

“You can take the chair if you want” Natasha offered her desk, and you were so busy reading the titles of the books you almost didn’t hear her.

“Oh, that’s ok. I can sit on the bed” you said, placing your backpack in the corner. You pulled out your laptop and opened a new tab. “I was thinking we can get all the info we need, and then decide how to organize it. I’ll write a draft and you can review it”

It was Natasha’s turn to be distracted, appreciating the way you leaned against her headboard, stretching your arms above your head.

“I-I got some books from my mom’s study. Let me find the right one…” she sat on the floor and you laid on your stomach, your heads at the same height as you looked over her shoulder.

Natasha began reading and taking notes, while you reviewed some articles on your laptop.

“Ready”

“Ok” you said, changing to sit next to her on the floor. Natasha felt your shoulder against her arm, and your sweet parfume invaded her senses.

You always smelled good. And looked so pretty. It was hard to focus but she managed just enough to dictate some of the things she’d found useful.

“You don’t have to write this down, but let me know if you think any of it is interesting for the paper” she said, and you really wanted to pay attention, but your eyes kept drifting to her lips. “Y/N?”

“Huh?”

“Sorry, I’m boring you” Natasha said, closing the book and looking dejected. She was about to put it away when you reached for her hand, sitting up.

“Now hold on. You weren’t boring me”

“It’s ok”

“Nat, look at me” you asked. The redhead seemed to forget you had moved closer when you reached for her hand, and when she turned to look at you, you were inches apart.

“I…”

Was she looking at your lips? Were you leaning forward? Did she want this?

You didn’t have time to find out, as the door to Natasha’s room opened and you jumped back.

“Oh! Yelena was telling the truth”

“Hi, Mrs. Romanoff” you greeted, hoping she didn’t notice your cheeks turning pink.

“Y/N, it’s so good to see you. Why are you sitting on the floor? Natalia, where are your manners?”

“Mom”

“No, that’s ok. I prefer the floor. Your hydrengias are looking spectacular, by the way” you tried to change the subject.

“Thanks to you! You were right about the change of place. Oh, I should have sent you a plate of cookies, you helped me with it and I didn’t even thank you”

“That’s ok, Mrs. Romanoff”

“Well if you want to stay for dinner, you’re more than welcomed” Melina turned to her daughter, with a more serious demeanor. “And you, remember to put those books right where they belong. I have a very particular system”

“Yes, Ma’am”

“So…”

“I…”

You both spoke at the same time.

“Sorry” you tried to breathe, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “You were saying?”

“I didn’t know you spoke to my mom about flowers?”

“Oh, that” you blushed and Natasha bit her lip, drinking in every word you said. “Yeah, Mom and I ran into her at the farmer’s market. They were talking about plants and we gave her some tips. That’s how we spend quality time, working on the garden”

Natasha nodded, but you still stared at her.

“Can I ask you something?” you said, looking at her lips. Natasha swallowed and nodded. “I… uh… why was Yelena acting weird when she saw me?”

That’s not what you meant to ask, but you had lost your courage.

“Oh…” the redhead looked disappointed. Or were you imagining things? “She’s obsessed with joining the cheerleading squad, and you being the President…”

“I’m not, anymore” you blurted out, surprising even yourself. “I mean, I’m still on the team… but I thought Pepper would do a better job”

“But they won the Nationals last year because of you” Natasha protested, and you were taken aback by her sudden rage. “There’s no one better than you”

“That’s really sweet, Nat” you placed your hand on hers. “But it’s for the best. Trust me. I’ll have more time to focus on the school paper or… I don’t know, dating?”

“I guess you could do that…” Natasha said, looking at your hands. For the second time in the day, your eyes found hers and then traveled to those beautiful lips.

“Y/N!”

Bucky shouted from the door. Damn it.

“My ride’s here” you said, disappointed. Natasha nodded, standing up and offering her hand to help you up. You took it, surprised at her strength.

A gasp left your lips when you were face to face, inches away from her lips. All you had to do was step forward and stand on your toes…

“Y/N/N” Bucky insisted and you had to control the urge to tell him to go to hell.

“Sorry. I have enough notes to write something. Can I text you once it’s done?”

“Sure, let me give you my number”

“I already have it…” you blurted out, trying to hide your face.

“How?”

Now, this time you were grateful for Bucky’s insistence.

“Coming, Buck! See you later?”

“Yeah. I’ll walk you out”

You nodded, allowing Natasha to lead you to the front door. Her father, coach Romanoff, was chatting with Bucky at the door.

“Good practice today” Alexei said and Bucky nodded.

“Thanks, coach” he then turned to you, offering his hand to get your bag. “Ready to go, doll?”

“Yeah. Thanks for having me, Nat. Say bye to your mom and Yelena for me?”

“Sure”

An uncomfortable feeling took over Natasha as you walked next to Bucky, watching him take your bag and carry it for you. You laughed at something he said while he opened the car door for you and then drove away.

“They make a cute couple, don’t they?” Alexei said, but Natasha shrugged her shoulders and went back to her room, almost knocking Melina over on the way up the stairs. “Did I say something wrong?”

—

Natasha felt weird doing it, but she couldn’t help herself.

She only opened an Instagram account to watch cool science videos. But she knew your username because Yelena followed you and now, she was acting like a creep, looking at your profile.

In search of what? She wasn’t sure. Maybe proof that you were dating Barnes.

“Hey” Yelena walked into her room and Natasha dropped her phone. “Ew, were you watching porn?”

“What? No! What do you want?” Natasha said, the blush in her cheeks only making her seem guilty.

“Well, just wanted to ask you if Y/N mentioned anything about this year’s tryouts?”

“No, we didn’t really talk about… that”

Natasha didn’t mention the conversation you had about stepping down as president. She had a feeling that was private.

“Ok, go back to watching porn” Yelena said, closing the door before Natasha could throw a pillow her way.

Then, her phone pinged and Natasha looked at it as if it was a cursed object.

Unknown number: Hey, Nat. I have a draft ready. Lmk if I can send it to you

Natasha: Hi. Sure thing, I’m not doing anything

Damn it, way to be a loser, Natasha.

She didn’t even wait a few minutes to reply.

Y/N: Ok, should be on your email now.

Natasha: Thnx, reading now.

Y/N: Gotta get ready for dinner. It was nice seeing you today.

Y/N: Outside of school, I mean.

Y/N: So… yeah. Anyway. I’m being weird, haha. Talk soon.

Y/N: XO

Natasha’s heartbeat sped up with every new text. She caught herself reading them over and over again.

She didn’t have time to worry about what to reply, because her mother came knocking.

“Dinner’s ready. You can take your time… Yelena told me you were busy.”

“Oh, my GOD!” Natasha jumped out of bed, opening the door. “I am not… watching porn!”

“She said you were stalking Y/N’s instagram” Melina said, turning to find her youngest daughter holding a laugh.

“сука” Natasha screamed, running after her.

“Papa, help!” Yelena screeched, going down the stairs.

“Language! And no running inside the house!”

Melina sighed. With the way Natasha was looking at you today, she had a feeling that parenting was going to be even more complicated now.

Throughout the week, you never left Natasha’s mind. It was a strange feeling. She’d never dwelled on social interactions that much, thinking it wasn’t worth her time.

But still, when Friday came, she was excited because you shared English class as well.

And there you were, leaning against the door, speaking to Barnes. Again. Natasha sighed, trying to ignore the heavy feeling in her stomach at the way you laughed with him, smacking his arm playfully.

As usual, the redhead kept her head down and went to the last table of the classroom, where she could be left alone. Only, you walked straight to her as soon as Professor Harkness started the lesson.

“Hey” you greeted, sitting next to Natasha.

“H-hi”

“Sorry, do you want me to find another place to sit?” you said, looking around the room.

“No!” Natasha practically shouted, making you flinch. “I’m sorry. No, you can sit here”

You nodded, occupying the chair next to hers. It was going to be a slow day, as Ms. Harkness set up the projector to show a documentary about Patricia Highsmith.

“You have to write a report about this so pay attention” the professor said, taking a seat to start the film.

While the documentary played, your mind kept drifting back to Natasha, sitting a few inches away from you. Truth be told, you had always found her to be beautiful, intriguing… but after spending an afternoon with her, those moments when you touched hands or locked eyes, kept replaying in your head.

Instead of taking notes, you decided to execute a plan that was saved for the next Chemistry lesson. Drawing on a sheet of paper, you created a game of hangman, double checking the number of letters for each of the three words.

Without looking at Natasha, you pushed the sheet her way. She looked at it for a second too long, and then at you. You were beginning to regret the whole thing, and then she underlined the letter T. You smiled, writing on the designated place.

Natasha took her time analyzing the sheet, but by the time the lesson was over, she had guessed some of the letters.

_o_i_ o_ _ _ tur _ _ y ?

The bell rang, and as the lights were turned back on, you looked at her, smiling nervously.

“So… want me to tell you what it says? Or, you can take the sheet and text me if you figure it out?”

God, you sounded so desperate. No wonder Natasha looked at you as if you had grown a second head.

“I’ll take it” she smiled, placing it between her notebook and walking out.

“Actually, Nat…” you went after her. Why not just ask straight away and see what happened?

“Yes?” she said, turning to look at you. Truth be told, she was anxious to get out. Your proximity had distracted her during the entire class. And it only got worse when you slid that sheet her way, and she saw the way you were biting your lip nervously.

She had to force herself to look away from your lips.

“I was thinking, if you’re not too busy…”

“Go on a date with me”

You were both taken aback by the interruption. The words were stolen right out of your mouth by a junior student, Peter Parker. He was staring at Natasha excitedly.

“Never mind” you grumbled, rolling your eyes and walking away.

Natasha flashed an angry glare at Peter, but you were walking down the hallway at record speed.

“What is wrong with you?” Natasha said. Peter was a year younger, but knew the redhead from science club.

“Sorry, it’s just that I… those were the words that came out of my mouth to ask MJ out. MJ! And she said yes!”

“Yeah, start with that next time”

Natasha spotted you across the hall, talking to Thor. Of course.

“I have to go” Natasha pushed the boy aside.

She was so distracted, she never noticed where she was going until she opened the door to the computer room, where Barnes was making out with another senior, Sharon Carter.

“Knock, damn it” Barnes said, but Sharon smacked his arm, looking stern.

“Don’t be a dick, James”

Natasha wanted to call Barnes a lot more than a dick, because who on their right mind would cheat on you? She stared at him a second longer, too angry to even speak, and then turned around, shutting the door behind her.

You deserved so much better than Barnes.

—

Y/N: Were you able to figure it out?

Natasha kept staring at her phone. She hadn’t replied to your message since yesterday and the longer she waited, the worse she felt.

Should she tell you about Barnes? Would you believe her? Or would you call her the worst name in the book and refuse to be in the same class as her?

The girl was pacing around in her room, but of course Yelena chose that moment to play her music at full volume. Natasha let out an exasperated sigh, going to her sister’s room.

“Turn it down!” she yelled from outside, knocking several times to get Yelena’s attention. “Yelena? Your music is too damn…” let the record show she had tried to knock. Natasha walked into Yelena’s room without permission, ready to get into a screaming match with her sister. What she didn’t expect was to see you sitting on her bed, while Yelena showed you different things on her closet.

“I told you it was very loud, Yel” you said, smiling at the girl and then at Natasha, who took a step forward to shut the music down. “Hey, sorry about the noise”

“I don’t recall giving you permission to come in, sestra” Yelena said, examining a t-shirt and her favorite vest. She turned to you. “What about this?”

“Yeah, that’s better. And hair braided, don’t forget that. Pepper and all the other girls love braids. I think the ones Natasha wears sometimes are really… uh, pretty”

You didn’t mean to sound like a creep, but of course you had noticed Natasha’s fiery hair braided from time to time.

“So, since you’re standing there and made me turn off my music” Yelena turned to her sister, showing the outfit. “What do you think? Tryouts are on Monday and Y/N is helping me pick an outfit”

“That one’s nice” Natasha nodded, trying to avoid your stare. She thought she had today and tomorrow to figure out what to do over Barnes. But what if you came to talk to her and she just blurted the whole thing out?

So, she excused herself and thought it would be better to hide in her room. Peace didn’t last long, though.

“Knock!” Natasha grumbled when her sister got in.

“Hey, you didn’t knock either just now. I wanted to ask if you got the tickets for the movie”

“Yes, of course I did”

“Good. I can’t go with you, so you should take Y/N”

“Wait, what?” Natasha hissed, trying to not lose it at Yelena’s ridiculous antics. “You can’t just cancel like that and she probably doesn’t even want to…”

“Ask her”

“What?”

“Ask her. Or if you’re too afraid, I can do it for you. But honestly, Natalia. Just do it. You’re both driving me crazy”

Natasha didn’t know what Yelena meant by that, so she just rolled her eyes and sighed.

“I’ll ask her, I don’t want it to seem like my little sister has to arrange my outings”

“Fine. I’m getting some water, you should do it now. Don’t pass out” Yelena winked, knowing her sister could barely handle social interactions.

Natasha felt her heartbeat strong in her chest, but didn’t wait too long before going back to Yelena’s room. She knew her sister meant it and would absolutely ask you out on Nat’s behalf.

“Hey, Y/N” she walked into the room, door ajar.

“Hey. What’s up? Want to try on outfits with us?” you joked. In spite of her nerves, Natasha smiled.

“I wanted to ask if you wanna go to the movies”

“Really?” you smiled. “What time?”

“It starts in an hour so… we can leave in thirty minutes if it works for you”

“Yeah. Awesome”

You didn’t think about asking which movie or anything else really. The fact Natasha had asked you was all you cared about. The redhead left the room once her sister came back, trying to hide her anxiety. Yelena gave her a knowing look, and kept chatting with you but wasn’t surprised to find you smiling out of nowhere, distracted and constantly checking your watch.

Once it was time to go, Natasha waited downstairs to drive you both to the movies. The ride there was quiet at first, until you reached out for the radio.

“Very cool” you praised when OK Go came on. “Their best music video is for I won’t let you down”

“What? No way! This too shall pass. That Rube Goldberg machine was insane”

“But what about all the extras and the umbrellas? Imagine the coordination it took. I tried to talk the girls into doing it for Nationals but they said I was insane”

Natasha laughed at that, humming along to the song, feeling more relaxed. You also smiled, and enjoyed watching her drive. She looked hot as she held the wheel.

As you were arriving to the theater, you mentioned Barnes and how he always forgot to get the tickets and once again, Natasha’s anxiety came back.

She was quiet as she parked and you both exited the car.

“Wait. I’m sorry. I can’t do this”

“Do what? What’s wrong?” you looked at her, searching her eyes.

“Please don’t hate me” she pleaded.

“Natty, I could never” you shook your head, the term of endearment almost leaving Nat out of breath.

“I saw… Barnes and Sharon Carter kissing in the computer room. I’m sorry”

“Ew. Yeah, they tend to do that anywhere they can. I’m the one who’s sorry you had to see it” you laughed, but the sound died down when Natasha looked at you as if you had grown a second head.

“Aren’t you dating Barnes?” she said, trying to understand everything.

“What? Gross. He’s like my other brother. Slightly less annoying than Steve, that’s for sure”

“You’re serious?” Natasha said, feeling as if a giant weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

“I’m very serious and very much single… waiting for a pretty girl to come sweep me off my feet” you said, smiling as Natasha blushed. You took her hand, going inside the theater. “Come on, the movie is starting soon”

You waited in line for the candy store, her hand still in yours. Once it was time to get your stuff, you stood behind her, looking over her shoulder by standing on your toes. Natasha blushed at the contact, your chin resting against her shoulder while you asked the clerk for some chocolate.

“Let me” Natasha said, paying before you could give the man money.

“Chivalry isn’t dead” you said, enjoying how much she was blushing. You smiled, helping her with the soda and finally going inside the room.

“So, what are we watching?”

“It’s this new zombie movie, like found footage”

“Oh, cool” you muttered, feeling the palms of your hands get sweaty.

“Sorry, I didn’t even ask if you were ok with that”

“No, it’s fine. I’m just a bit of a chicken” you laughed, settling in your seat. You hoped Natasha didn’t think you were lame and as the movie started, you really did try to be brave. And then a zombie came jumping through a window and you hid your face behind your hands.

“Hey, it’s ok” Natasha took your hand. “We can leave if you want to”

“No, I’m fine” you said, forgetting about the movie as soon as her hand let go of yours, arm going around your shoulders to comfort you.

No way were you leaving now.

You leaned against her chest, hiding when something scary was about to happen. Natasha held you close, her hand going up and down your back in a soothing manner.

Who knew all it took was some scary zombies to get close to her…

The movie didn’t last as long as you’d have liked, but still, you were happy when she kept holding on to your hand as you left the cinema.

“That was fun” you commented and Natasha let out a laugh. “What?”

“You were hiding half the movie”

“Maybe I liked that part the most” you challenged, pleased when she blushed again. “But next time, we’re watching a rom com or a sci-fi movie.”

“I’d like that” Natasha said and you were looking at her lips when your phone rang. “Want a ride home?”

“I couldn’t possibly ask you to”

“It’s not a problem. Come on” she walked next to you, opening the car door.

“What else do you listen to?” you played with the radio, going from A-Punk, to Keane and Travis. “Really good taste”

“What about you?”

“Anything really. I have like 45 playlists that are completely random. I could send you one if you’d like”

“Yeah, I’d like that” Natasha nodded. You smiled, enjoying the view (and by view you meant Natasha, her fingers tapping against the wheel) for the rest of the ride.

Once you got home, she opened the car door for you again. You didn’t move from your spot next to her, enjoying the proximity.

“Nat?”

“Yes?”

“I like you” you said without a warning, and it was hard to tell who was more embarrassed, you or Nat. “I’m sorry for being so forward but I think I needed you to know. I’m thinking about kissing you and holding your hand and…”

For the first time in her life, Natasha did something without thinking. She pulled you by the waist, connecting her lips to yours. You groaned in surprise, but sighed against her mouth a second later. Your hands went up her neck, to keep her close to you as you moved your lips against hers.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself”

“Never apologize for doing that” you smiled, leaning your forehead against her shoulder. Natasha smiled, kissing your temple. “Are you good to drive?”

“Yeah” she nodded.

“Ok. I don’t want you to do it if you’re distracted or something. It could be dangerous, you know?” you rambled and Natasha saw genuine concern behind your words.

“I’ll text you when I’m home, how about that?”

“Yes, please” you sighed with relief. “Be careful. And thank you for today” without being able to help yourself, you stood on your toes and pecked her lips one more time.

Natasha got in the car, smiling as she drove back home. True to her promise, she texted you as soon as she arrived.

She was expecting Yelena to greet her with a million questions, but the girl was back in her room, still listening to music.

Going back to her own room, she found the game of hangman you had done for her, now complete with Yelena’s handwriting.

Natasha was really clueless.

Movie on Saturday?

This whole time, you were asking her out. Natasha took a picture of the paper and sent it to her sister.

Nat: You went through my stuff.

Sestra: Ur welcome.

Natasha would never hear the end of it. Her phone pinged again.

Y/N: Glad you’re home safe.

Y/N: Still thinking about that kiss.

Y/N: So… yeah. When’s our second date?

Coming to think of it, she was happy to pay that price.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n

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redflagshipwriter · 7 months ago

Text

Red Hot Ghouls 10 2/2

Masterpost

Jazz’s roommate Tiffany was fine and all that, but Danny didn’t feel that he was missing out on much when he phased from the stairwell directly into the little ensuite bathroom that connected to Jazz’s bedroom. He could hear quiet conversation from the living room– the TV, maybe?

But Jazz had clearly locked her bedroom door before she left. Danny made a note that Tiffany definitely wouldn’t be finding him and then he starfished on his sister’s bed. He set an alarm for 1 am with a smidge of guilt. It probably wouldn’t wake her up. Maybe she wouldn’t even stay home for the night, she had a boyfriend, right? Or was she the one with the girlfriend who worked downtown?

Whatever. Danny slept like the dead. In fact, he slept through his alarm and woke up to see 7 messages from Jazz. The one showing on the screen was “DANIEL FENTON Tiffany thinks my bedroom is HAUNTED because someone is snoring in there.”

“Oops,” Danny said under his breath. He opened up the clock app and made sure that the alarm wasn’t going to go off again. He quietly pulled open Jazz’s drawers to find a clean pair of socks and a hoodie that didn’t have his university name written on it.

The first thing he pulled out was a baby pink hoodie that had SQUAT written on it in white all-caps print. “I sure do,” he said to himself, and changed into it. It was a lie. He did not lift weights. That was Jazz’s hobby.

He did enjoy the thought of how pinched her face was gonna get when she saw him in her clothes. Danny had a little chuckle over it before he phased back out and nearly fell down the staircase. His arms wheeled for balance.

When he caught himself he looked around to be sure no one saw. The zone was clear. Danny smirked.

“Another perfect landing for the Phantom.”

Oh, duh. That was a thought. He didn’t have to hoof it.

It was dark enough that he reconsidered his plan to walk to Arkham on foot and ducked back into Jazz’s place to transform where no one could see the light show.

He made good time across the stretch of ocean that separated Jazz’s dream job from the rest of Gotham City. He knew where to go, based off of insider information.

Jeremy Waters had landed himself in Arkham, rather than standard criminal housing, because he would not shut the fuck up about the debt the Ghost King was going to owe him and how he would repay it in the blood of everyone who crossed him or whatever. He was in the low security end, given that he was just some dude, but Danny still spend a moment steeling himself to wake Jeremy and (ugh) talk to him.

‘He’s going to take this as positive feedback,’ Danny thought glumly. ‘He’s going to think he’s gotten something in his obsession with me. He’s probably going to be even more annoying.’

He wasn’t entirely sure that Jeremy’s focus on gifting him spouses wasn’t projection. The guy was kinda obsessed.

The weight class difference between the two of them was just absurd, metaphysically speaking. Jeremy was a 52 year old Poli-sci graduate who had ditched a middle of the road career in the Foreign Service at age 40 and started pursuing immortality. Midlife crisis and all that. He had a bit of boxing experience, but that was it. He was just a human guy.

Danny was king of the dead and he could shoot lasers from his hands. He was strong even for a ghost.

‘It’s pathetic that he creeps me out still. It’s just such bad vibes to be pursued by this old guy who won’t take no for an answer.’

Still, gotta do what you gotta do. He blew frost into the room to set a mood and scramble the fuck out of any surveilance equipment. Then he grimaced his way through calling out, “Jeremy. Jeremy. Jeremy!” until the jerk woke up.

…and immediately started genuflecting. “My lord Phantom,” Jeremy whimpered. His whole body was shaking.

Danny wished it was fear. But no. It was excitement, like he was some freaky little purse dog. He shuddered. “What did you do differently in your latest summoning?” he asked. His voice somehow came out cold and superior.

He could see Jeremy’s dazed grin even when the guy was still looking at the cell floor. “I am so glad that you ask, my lord,” he babbled. “I increased the number of ritual participants from 7 to 12. I changed from Kosher to Pink Himalayan salt. I was initially going to offer my humble self as a sacrifice-”

Danny’s stomach lurched.

“But when the Red Hood burst in, I knew that it was a sign!”

The red what now?

“Surely someone whose aura is so soaked in death and brutality would be a flavorful meal for one so horrendous and deathly as you, my Lord,” Jeremy babbled on.

Danny made a face.

‘He thinks I’m going to eat the sacrifice spouse?’ Danny paused. ‘...Was he lying, or does he want me to eat him? What does he think will happen if death eats him?’

He had a morbid curiousity that made him want to ask. But it was probably best not to know. He needed to sleep at night.

“It was the Pink Himalayan salt that was powerful enough to draw my attention,” Danny told Jeremy, because he really didn’t need any good information. “I reject your offering. Stop trying.”

He left immediately in hopes of not hearing the wailing and gnashing of teeth behind him.

#red hot ghouls #dp x dc #dc x dp #dead on main

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arlana-likes-to-write · 3 months ago

Note

hello!!

tw drugs??

i have no idea if you take request for Natasha and daughter reader, but if you do, would you be willing to write about nat finding out the drugs addiction of reader and like the angst of a mother and then like happy ending where nat obviously helps reader to be clean again?

Leave a Light On

Warning: mention of death, past of abuse in the Red Room, substance abuse (drugs, alcohol), laced, drug buying, hallucinations, fighting, physical injuries,

Relationships: Natasha x reader (platonic), Natasha x Maria

Word Count: 4.1K

“Parker,” the boy jumped almost 10 feet in the air at Natasha’s voice. The Black Widow felt terrible for scaring the teen, but your absence worried her more. “Where’s my kid?” He looked at Ned and MJ, a confused expression on his face. As the seconds ticked by, her heart started to beat rapidly. The sound echoed in her ears.

“She’s not with us, Miss. Romanoff,” Peter said. “She said she couldn’t hang out because she was working on a school project.” MJ nodded.

“We haven’t hung out with her outside of school lately,” she said. The Black nodded, thanked the kids, and left them. There wasn’t much she could get out of them regarding your whereabouts. She needed to find you. The lies were stacking up.

I’ll be with Peter. I’m not hungry; I ate before. I’m sorry I’m late; I had to stay after school. Nat, I’m tired. I’m going to turn in early.

Natasha knew it was going to be difficult. She adopted you when she and her sister brought down the Red Room. You were so young when Natasha found you in a room. You looked so small. At that moment, Natasha wasn’t going to let you go.

The Black Widow found Tony in his lap. She grabbed the table from him and threw it onto the couch. “You know normal people say hello when they enter a room.”

“I need you to find my daughter,” he sat up in his chair. “Trace her phone, hack street cameras, anything. Just find her,” she pleaded. Tony nodded without a second thought. Natasha hated showing any weakness and hated asking for help of any kind, but she would do anything to find you.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The bass of the music was rattling your bones. The apartment was loud, sweaty, and overcrowded, but you never felt more alive. It reeked of alcohol, weed, and sex. As you stumbled through the party. People’s hands touched your body. Somehow, you got to the small kitchen and found your friend who brought you to this party. She was a sophomore in college, and right now, she had her tongue down some guy’s throat. You laughed and took the spoon out of the juice to fill your cup. Before you could sip the juice, a small shot glass was pushed into your free hand. “Take the shot, Tiny,” Heather yelled in your ear. You smiled at your friend and took the shot. It went down smoothly, and you chased it with your mixed drink. Everyone called you Tiny, from the Avengers, your friends at school, and the people you got high with. It was due to your small stature that kept you alive in the Red Room.

That place haunted your mind and body. There was no peace from the horrors you faced. The only time you felt at peace was when a strong drink was in your hand or a pill that would dissolve on your tongue.

“Here,” the guy Heather was kissing handed you a pill. It was light blue. “Take it,” he encouraged. There was no need for peer pressure. You took it. It tasted like blueberry as it dissolved on your tongue. You were ready for a fun night.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You were alone. Somehow, you managed to leave the packed apartment and walk down the stairs. You sat there with your head on the wall while others came and went. No one stopped to see if you were okay. You weren’t. Your head was spinning, and there were a few missing memories. You had a shot, the pill you were given, and your first drink. You weren’t sure what you had after that. You were playing with a ring that rested on your right ring finger. It was a gift from Yelena. A ring that acted as a fidget toy. You could still hear the music from the apartment, but you sang your song.

“Poust vzegda boudyit solnse…” your voice slurred. It was the only light in the Red Room. You remembered your biological mother singing it to you as she held you close. Her soft voice covered the sound of gunshots and screams. Fuck the Red Room. Fuck that miserable place that broke you. Fuck Dreykov. Fuck it. Fuck all of it.

“Dorogoy,” you slowly raised your head. Eyes squinting at the person in front of you. Something was wrong. The stairwell you sat on felt too small - the walls were moving closer and closer to you. You tried to focus on the pattern on the wallpaper - a floral print but the flowers were moving, too. No, they weren’t just moving but blooming, stretching, and twisting, and the petals drifted towards you.

“Tiny,” that voice again called out. You knew that vice. That voice called so much pain and suffering. The voice robbed you and so many girls of their childhood. A hand touched your shoulder.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you slapped the hand away and rushed to your feet. It took a moment for your feet to figure out what you wanted them to do. You stumbled your way down the last few steps and outside. The clear air helped clear your mind. You put your hood up and walked down the sidewalk. Glancing behind your shoulder, there was a car following you. They were going to bring you back. You could hear footsteps behind you.

It was a bad idea to quicken your pace. The mix of drugs and alcohol messed with your coordination. You stumbled, catching yourself on your palms. The pain moved through your arms. Again, you felt hands on you. “Net, net, otoydi (no, no, get off),” you yelled and tried to fight the hands off you. You couldn’t go back there. It would kill you.

“Hey,” the voice was quiet, and the hands left you. “Stop, you are going to hurt yourself.” The world around you started to spin. You couldn’t figure out which way was up or down. Bile began to form in your throat, and you rolled over to your side, throwing up the alcohol in your stomach. Your limbs felt heavy, and you were too weak to stop the hands carefully picking you up. “Poust vzegda boudyit solnse…” the voice whispered. Your head fell heavily against the person’s shoulder, and you drifted asleep.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

When you came to, there was a pounding in your head. Your mouth was dry, and it tasted like the drinks you had the night before. You groaned, and your stomach flipped. “Sweetheart,” Natasha’s voice echoed. Can you open your eyes for me?”

“No,” you moaned, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Why is that?” Her voice was soft and loving.

“I’m going to throw up,” Saliva pooled in your mouth. You heard movement and felt something placed on your lap.

“If you are going to be sick, it’s okay,” she ran her through your hair. You shook your head, which was a mistake as your stomach worsened. Being sick was a weakness. You weren’t weak. You were strong. “Come on, Tiny, if it will make you feel better, it’s okay.” You opened your eyes, grabbed the metal bowl, and threw up the contents of your stomach. Natasha robbed soothing circles on your back as you were sick. You slumped back once you were done, all your energy drained from your body.

“That’s probably not the last time you’ll be sick,” you weren’t sure when Helen opened the door and entered. “Your body is trying to expel the laced drugs in your system,” Laced? No, that was impossible. Heather won’t let you take something that was laced. “Do you want me to go over the damage you caused from what you took?” You’ve never seen her this angry at you. When you were first brought to the Tower, she had to give you a health exam. Her touch was so gentle, something you weren’t used to. “You’ll have to go to a rehab program.” It was like ice was injected into your veins. Going to a rehab program meant you had a problem. You were fine. You could stop if you wanted.

“I don’t need rehab,” you told the doctor. “It was a one-off. I’m fine.”

“Helen,” Natasha cut off the doctor before she could say more. “Can you give us a second?” Helen looked between you and the Black Widow. She nodded and closed the door behind her.

“I’m fine, Nat,” you said, playing with the blanket threads. You used it for movie nights and random hangouts around the Tower, a checked pattern of greens and blues. “It won’t happen again.” You saw her nod out of the corner of your eye.

“I believe you,” you slowly looked at her. She was smiling, a kind and bright smile that reminded you of when she saved you from the Red Room. The sirens were blaring, explosions rocked around you, and you smelt of death, but her smile as she held you close made you feel safe. “But if you lose your way, I’ll leave the light on.” You forced a smile.

When you first arrived at the Tower, you were terrified of everyone and everything. The only source of comfort was a small lighthouse nightlight that Natasha had. She gave it to you, and she learned that when you had it on, you needed her—you needed her to keep you safe. As you got used to living out of the Red Room control, you gave it back to her. She kept the light on, a reminder that she was always there.

“Okay,” you said. But you were okay. You had it under control.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You lasted five days, clean of everything, even coffee, but the withdrawal was killing you. You were exhausted, snapped at everyone, and your body hurt. So, you gave in to the things that you knew would help. You bought a pack of cigarettes from Heather. Those helped to get you to 7 days. Until the nicotine couldn’t stop the shakes, you brought a gram of weed from Tyler, your dealer. That got you to 10 days. On the 11th day, you were desperate for it all to stop. Even when you managed to sleep, your mind created nightmares after nightmares. They made you relive your biological mother’s murder over and over again.

You bought something more substantial from Tyler and took it while you walked around the park. When the high hit and you walked back into the Tower, you saw Yelena going through the fridge. Dammit. You wanted to grab a snack and hide in your room until you were sober enough to be around people. “Tiny,” the blonde said. “I am going to make mac and cheese. Do you want some?” You were starving, but it was a bad idea to stay here. However, if you went to your room, it would look more suspicious. Without a word, you sat down at the kitchen island. “How was your day?” Her back was to you when she asked.

“Good,” you said. “We went for a walk,” Yelena placed a bowl before you. It took everything in you not to start giggling, even when you picked up the fork and mixed the hot sauce in the noodles. As you slowly ate, you felt Yelena’s eyes on you.

“Are you high?” She asked. You shook your head.

“Just high on life,” you laughed at your dumb joke. Yelena narrowed her eyes at you. “Damn tough, crowd,” you mumbled and slid off the chair to bring the rest of your food to your room.

“Tiny, get back here and tell me the truth.”

“You aren’t my mom,” you said.

“Then I’ll tell Natasha.”

“She isn’t my fucking mother either,” you regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth. Yelena grabbed your shoulder to stop you. It happened on instinct, you dropped your bowl and spun around. You grabbed onto Yelena’s wrist. You only let her go when she yelped in pain. The sound broke through the drug-induced haze in your mind. You dropped her hand.

With wide eyes and your heart beating, you stared at Yelena, who held onto her wrist. You were a monster, just like Dreykov said, just like your mother called you. “It’s okay, Tiny,” Yelena said. “I should not have grabbed you,” you saw the grimace of pain on her face. So you ran. You ran to your room and ignored the call of your name. The drugs in your system made your head feel fuzzy, and you stumbled a few times, but you made it. Slamming the door closed, you locked it and moved your dresser to block yourself in.

You stumbled onto your bed and heard knocking on the door. “Dorogoy,” it was Natasha. “Can you let me in?” You stayed frozen. “I’m not upset, no one is, but I need to know you are safe.”

“I am,” you managed to call out, wanting to give her some peace of mind. “I can’t open the door, Nat. I need a minute.” You heard her sigh.

“Okay, Yelena is fine, and I’m here for you. The light is always on.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You stayed in your room until you knew everyone was asleep. Your stomach ached with hunger, and you were thirsty. The last time you ate was yesterday. You put your dresser back and carefully unlocked the door. You walked into the kitchen on quiet feet but froze when you heard voices. Someone was softly crying, and the other was trying to soothe them. You peeked around the corner and saw it was Maria and Natasha. The Black Widow was the one crying. You pressed your back against the wall and strained your ears.

“Baby, you have to breathe,” you heard Maria say. The relationship between the two was relatively new. It’s so new that Natasha hadn’t told you about it. You only knew that you caught them one night when you snuck back into the Tower after a party. “I know it hurts, but you will make yourself sick.”

“I don’t know how to help her,” Natasha’s voice shook at each word. “I feel the trouble coursing through her veins, but it’s got a hold on her,” you leaned against the wall and closed your eyes. “I can’t lose her. I don’t know what to do,” Maria sighed, and you waited with batted breath and wondered what she would say.

“You can’t help her if she isn’t willing to accept the help,” Maria softly spoke.

“It’s gonna kill her, Ria,” it felt like a snake wrapped around your lungs and squeezed tight. It was impossible to breathe. Even though you were in such a massive space as the Avenger Tower, you felt small. Once again, you ran back to your room to grab your wallet and took the stairs to the back exit of the Tower.

You weren’t sure where you were going. Each step felt heavy with guilt. “Hey, kid,” you looked at a man standing in an alley’s opening. “Want any?” He had a small baggie of pills. Without much thought, you handed him money and took the pills from him.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, walking with your hands in your pockets. If your mind wasn’t on a downward spiral, you knew buying from a random city corner was a bad idea. The pills looked sketchy, and a nagging feeling formed in the back of your skull. You walked down the sidewalk with the pills in your pocket, not able to take them, and stopped at a pay phone.

Fishing some quarters out of your wallet, you dialed Natasha’s phone number by memory and listened to it ring. “Hello?” She answered on the third ring. You were silent. “Who is this?” Even over the phone, you could tell she was still crying.

“Nat,” you answered.

“Hey Tiny, where are you?” You looked at the street corner and rattled off the closest intersection. “Are you on anything?” You closed your eyes and shook your head.

“Just the stuff from this afternoon,” you admitted. “I uh bought stuff, but I haven’t taken it.”

“What do you need?” It felt like the first person to ask you. Everyone thought they knew what you needed; no one asked what you wanted.

“You,” you answered. “Can you pick me up?” You heard her sigh in relief.

“Of course. I’ll be right there.”

“Thank you,” you whispered and hung up. You put your hood up as you felt the first drop of rain. It felt therapeutic as the rain began to pick up, and you waited at the corner for Natasha. Your mind was your worst enemy. Part of you wondered if she could come from you. Maybe you were more trouble than you were worth. You heavily considered taking the pills in your pocket.

But the rain silenced everything. The rain was steady, creating a soothing white noise that confronted you. The drum-like patter of the droplets hitting the roof calmed your racing mind. The water that hit the windows made a rhythmic beat. You loved the sound of cars splashing through the puddles. Your clothes stuck to your skin, and your hair was a mess. Still, you felt at peace. “Sweetheart,” you opened your eyes and saw Natasha standing before you with an umbrella. “Hi.”

She came when you called, and you pulled her into a hug. The hug was bone-crushing, and Natasha hugged you just as tight.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

When Natasha’s clothes were drenched like yours, you got into the passenger side, and the Black Widow ran to the driver’s side. She let out a sigh. “I didn’t expect the rain,” she said. “Or I’d bring towels.” You smiled and watched the rain run down the glass. “Do you want to go back to the tower?” She asked.

“I like the rain,” you answered instead. “For once, my mind was quiet,” Natasha said, starting the car and driving. “Where are we going?”

“Trust me,” you nodded. She drove in silence; the only sounds were the rain and the music on the radio. You leaned your head on the window and watched the rain. You picked some droplets, and they raced down the glass.

Finally, Natasha parked in front of an apartment building. “Why are we here?”

“Maria owns an apartment here,” Natasha unbuckled her seat belt. “She likes to have a place away from the craziness.” She turned off the car. “Follow me,” you exited the car and entered the complex. Natasha waved at the doorman and went straight to the elevator. You entered, and the Black Widow pressed the button on the roof. You began to hum the lullaby that your biological mother used to sing. It helped fill the silence. When the doors opened, Natasha grabbed your hand and pulled you to a small covering.

The metal roof over your head protected you from the rain, but it amplified the sound. It echoed slightly, which made it more intense and filled the space with a rich, immersive sound. You closed your eyes and allowed the sound to engulf you. Without opening your eyes, you put your hand in your pocket and handed the colorful pills to Natasha. You felt her take them. “Is Yelena okay?” you finally asked.

“Yeah, she is. Her wrist is just bruised. She’ll be fine tomorrow,” you nodded and opened your eyes, looking down at your feet. A pool of water started to form. “Tell me what’s happening, what’s been on your mind? Lately, you’ve been searching for a darker place to hide and that’s alright,” you looked at Natasha. “But if you carry on abusing, you’ll be robbed from us,” you licked your lips.

“I’m scared,” you admitted. “I’m so scared, Nat because the drugs silence his voice.” You knew she knew who you were talking to without saying his name.

“I know, baby girl, it’s so hard,” she took a few steps to get close to you. “You’ve been so strong, and you can move forward without that stuff.” You weren’t sure if you could. You relied so heavily on it.

“I need help. I can’t do this alone.”

“You aren’t alone. I’m here. I’m right here,” she said as she pulled you into her arms. Your body shook against hers as tears ran down your cheeks.

“I’m scared, mama. I’m so scared,” you whimpered. You were terrified, but you felt somewhat safe in her arms.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

3 Months

Your entire body hurt. There was a pounding in your head; the metallic taste of your blood filled your mouth, and you rested your head on the cool metal of the elevator. Groaning when the elevator stopped and you had to face the music. Your hood was up, and you stepped onto the floor. Glancing up slightly, you saw Maria in the kitchen. At least it wasn’t Natasha. Quietly, you walked to your room. “Hi, Tiny,” you groaned and stopped.

“Hi, Maria. I’m going to go to my room. I have a ton of homework,” you kept your head down.

“Why don’t you have something to eat before you start?”

“Not hungry” was the wrong answer. “I had a late lunch.” It was a half-life. You ate late because you were working on an assignment and hungry. But you needed to clean your face and put on makeup to cover the bruises.

“You know the rules, kid, you need to eat as soon as you get home from school,” God, you hated that rule right now. Bruce and Helen were worried about your weight while going through rehab. So after school, you had to eat a little snack. “Let me make you something,” you knew you weren’t winning this fight. You sat at the kitchen island with your head down and your bag by your feet. “How was school?”

“Good. I have an essay due at the end of the week,” your lip was aching from the repeated hits to the face. Maria placed a plate in front of you. It was a peanut butter sandwich.

“Kid, can you look at me?” You shook your head. “Come on, Tiny.” Sighing, you put your hood down and looked at her. You knew what she was seeing. Your lip was split. There was swelling around your nose, and the cuts on your cheeks were from the rings on Tyler’s hand.

“Don’t tell, Nat,” you broke the silence.

“FRIDAY inform Natasha she is needed in the med bay,” you groaned as Maria grabbed your hand and dragged you down to see Bruce. It was a blur as you sat on a medical bed, and Bruce cleaned and patched up your face. He determined your nose wasn’t broken, and you refused any pain medication. You were afraid to take any drugs as you were three months clean.

By the time Bruce was done, Natasha ran over to you. “Who did this to you?” she asked, gently cupping your face in her hands.

“You should see the other guy,” it was a poor attempt to joke because you couldn’t fight back. Tyler had some of his guys hold your arms. Maria gave you a pointed look over Natasha’s shoulder. “My old dealer,” you told them. “He’s been upset that I haven’t bought from him.” Natasha’s eyes turned stormy, and the look scared you. Maria took a quiet step closer as she saw the look of fear pass through your eyes.

“Names,” she said. Her voice was cold, and a shiver ran down your spine. It reminded you of orders given in the Red Room. You rattled off Tyler’s name and a few others. “I’ll be back.” Her hands left your face, and you felt cold.

“Mama,” you whimpered, and she stopped at the door. Can you stay? I need you to stay.” Everything hurt, and you were so scared you would use to stop it. Natasha’s face softened, and she walked back over to you. She sat down, and you slumped against her.

“I’ll handle it,” Maria said. She kissed Natasha’s cheek, then the top of your head. “Make sure you eat,” she teased. You nodded with a smile. Bruce came back in to give you ice, which Natasha held against your nose. She moved your hair and ran her fingers through it.

“I’m proud of you, dorogoy,” you hummed in question. “You needed something, and you asked for it.”

“You told me that you’ll leave the light on if I lose my way.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x maria hiill #blackhill x reader #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha romanoff x daughter! reader

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schoolsucks-tellmeotherwise · 2 months ago

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When the Last Petal Falls(Part 1)

Yandere!Duke x Male!Reader

You were put into an arranged marriage with a duke who's infamous for killing those married to him after the death of his wife when their son was but a newborn. After the marriage, the man ignored you, not even visiting your room on your wedding night. But the child was far too cute and lonely to simply ignore!

A/n : so uhh, idk how it happened, but I accidentally published my unfinished draft of this, I don't know how, last time I checked it was still in my drafts! I took a nap, turned off my notifications. And then when I woke up there was '____ liked your post: 'When the last petal falls'' and I was like, wtf, I didn't even upload it though.ヽ⁠༼⁠⁰⁠o⁠⁰⁠；⁠༽⁠ノ

A/n#2 : welp, it's updated now, so I'll see you on part two when I start working on it, hopefully I don't accidentally post it again.(⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠)

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You weren't all too thrilled about your wedding, but it's not like you could do anything about it. Your family was hemorrhaging money in a project that cost far more than what they had, stupid, really stupid. Now they're marrying off their eldest child, you, to a man, who was infamous for murdering his spouses, for profit! But you (the maids) packed your belongings and got yourself dressed non the less.

You stared at yourself as a maid continued to do your hair, all the while her coworkers arguing about what you should wear. "BUBBA!!" A small yet strong voice of a little girl yelled accompanied by rapid footsteps. Soon enough you hear the footsteps come to a halt as the door to the room opened slightly. You turned you head slowly so you don't ruin whatever the maid was doing. Seeing a tiny head peeking in, you smiled softly as you ushered your little sister in.

"You're going all ready?" She pouts as a she makes her way over to you with her arms outstretched. You engulf her in a hug when she got close enough before answering her question. "Unfortunately, I am, why? Are you going to miss your big brother?" You joke, Rose buried her face further into your clothes. Then you heard a a barely audible sniffle, not from Rose, no, but from out the door. You could guess the maid that was dutifully styling you hair heard it too when she stopped her work. You look at her before gently carrying Rose with you while she looked down towards the ground curiously.

Opening the door, you saw your youngest sibling trying to dry his tears with his sleeves. Crouching down, you place your hand over the one he was using to wipe his tears. "Finn, why are you crying?" You whisper gently, picking him up in your unoccupied arm. "B-big brother..... No go..." He whimpers clutching onto your shirt. You sigh softly, you gently place Rose down on the ground, with a pat to her head, so you could run your fingers through the young boys hair.

"I won't be gone forever, you two." You say as you walk towards the maid who was doing your hair earlier, Rose following you. You say down with Finn in your lap, calling a maid to get your little sister a chair as well. "You may continue." You tell the maid. Rose was oddly quiet the entire time, you won't question it though.

"... Can't you ask mother and father to hold off your marriage..." A deep yet quiet voice says. You nearly jump, you didn't hear him enter the room at all. "Wilhelm.. didn't I tell you to make noise so I know you're there?" You scold without turning to look at him. "I'm sorry.... I forgot to do so.. are you angry?" He whispers so quietly you had to strain your ears to hear. "No, I'm not." You say simply and you four were plunged into silence.

You sigh when 5 minutes have passed with no words spoken, the only noise being the whisper-yells of the maids(they tried to be quiet out of respect, they failed). You shift slightly so you could hand Wilhelm your sleeping brother. When he takes Finn in his arms you shoo the two siblings away, you're sure they were busy something before deciding to ignore that and come to you. "Well, you two have somewhere you need to be, make sure to put Finn in his cot beforehand." You say, leaving no room for objections.

The two look at each other before Wilhelm nods, a quick 'goodbye' leaving his lips and Rose hugs you quickly, turning away and walking to the door the young girl gives you a wave and a bye of her own. Only a few minutes later and your hair was finally finished, the other also having agreed on what you'd wear.

"You look stunning, young master!"

"I agree."

"Kyaaa! The young master's just so pretty! There's no way the duke won't like it!"

They all comment, but the last one but you on edge. It made you remember just who exactly you were marrying. 'That's right... I'm marrying him...' You thought, you were scared, and you couldn't deny it even if you wanted to. Getting married to someone you don't love is already hard enough, but getting married to someone who cloud kill you without consequences was terrifying.

"Young master? Are you alright? You seem quite troubled"

You hear a maid call out, a frown etched on her face. You quickly muster an 'I'm alright, don't worry' to her and she reluctantly believes it. The others looked worried to, yet never spoke a word, a silent conversation happening between them as they look at one another. Though they escort you out no less.

When you step out of the house you see lines of servants on the edge of the path way, your family (minus one) was in front of the gate and slightly blocking your view of a white and gold carriage behind them.

"[Y/n], you look stunning."

Your mother says as she hugs you. You wrap your arms around her as well before she pulls away. You feel a heavy hand gently hold place itself on your shoulder.

"Make our family proud, [Y/n]."

Your father says simply, but you can barely make out the slight waver of his stern voice. You give him a reassuring, close-eyed smile before saying 'Of course, father.'

As you step into the carriage with the help of the maids you hear your siblings call out. You smile at them and wave as the carriage starts moving.

The wedding hall was packed full of aristocrats, royalty and the like. Your family chatting up to your soon-to-be husband's family as you were given some touch ups behind the scenes by a maid. You were nervous, if not for your life then for the fact that if this went awry, your family would be in trouble, trouble that can't be quickly fixed.

Once the maid was finished you heard the king give an early congratulations to you and the duke for your marriage. You could see the duke waiting at the alter. And as you've guessed, he wasn't at all thrilled by this arrangement. It made fear for yourself more as you started to walk down the aisle.

You flinched as you felt him pull the veil away from your face harshly. You could feel your palms getting clammy as the officiant begins to read your vows.

"Do you, Iver Quinnell, take [Y/n] [L/n] as your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, through your highs and lows, in poverty and wealth and till death alone do you part?

"I do"

The duke said, gritting his teeth as he forced himself to hold your hands. He repeats the same for you, what's the point in asking this if there's no other option but—

"I do"

You say softly, but loud enough to be heard by the officiant and those closer to the alter. The old man smiles at the two of you before he turns around. Grabbing two silver chalice's filled with fine wine, he hands then to the two of you. This was it, once both infused some mana into one another's wine and drank from it, you two would be officially wedded.

You look up at your husband, his dull, golden eyes not focused on you. You sigh in relief, you don't want to look him in the eyes right now. Looking back down, you bite back the urge to just turn on your heel and run, but before you could act on those thoughts you stopped yourself as you hover your hand over your husband's chalice. He also, reluctantly, does so to yours.

You could see both chalice's glowing [f/c] and dark blue before returning to it's original, deep red hue. Hesitantly, you press the chalice to your lips before drinking the liquid inside. The crevices of the ring on your finger glow a dark blue as your husband's glows [f/c]. The phrase 'you may seal you union with a kiss' was what you dreaded, but you sucked it up like how your husband did as he hooked his arm around your waist and gave you a short kiss, long enough that people won't doubt or complain about your marriage.

Loud applause and chains of congratulations come right after. You spend the rest of the 'celebration' thanking guests, making connections and talking with familiar faces.

You begged to every god out there that you wouldn't be forced to spend the night with your newly-wed husband. Thankfully, they answered your prayers, but it cost you. A rumor about how the duke skipped his wedding night to visit his late wife's grave was what greeted you two days after the marriage.

You sigh tiredly as you sat in your office, handling your duties as the duke's husband. You could hear the quiet whispers of the maids that passed by.

"I heard that Duke Quinnell skipped his wedding night with Lord [L/n]!"

"Really? Where did you hear that from anyway?"

"From the head maids daughter! You want to know why he skipped it? Because he went to visit the late duchess' grave! I personally think he's a romantic, only for Lady Lucilia."

"You know well that the head maids daughter is a liar! And that's rude, we're infront of Lord [L/n]'s office right now, have you no shame?"

"I don't think he can hear me anyway, plus even the head maid said the duke went to his wife's grave! I heard she and her daughter accompanied the duke too."

You heard their conversation clearly, though muffled by the walls and doors. 'This maid is quite a blabber mouth, isn't she?' You thought, while separating all the documents and making sure they wouldn't fly away. You stood up and looked out the large window that overlooks the garden. Amidst all the green and flowers, you see a small black blob, and it looks like it's trembling.

Against your better judgement, you decide to go down and check what it was. The walk felt long, the corridors seemingly twisting and connecting back to one another, but you made it out with only being mildly disoriented. With a relieved sigh you start walking down path way. You remember that blob was somewhere around the yellow begonia's and away from the path.

Seeing the rose-like blooms you begin to stray off the stone path and onto the grass. You begin searching for the blob when you hear soft sniffling, it reminded you of when Finn would do his best to cry silently. You begin to walk towards the noise, your footsteps quiet. Parting a few bushes you see a small boy with black hair. You guess he was what you saw when in your office.

Slowly, you walk towards the boy, you sit by him with the rustle of leaves. You see him flinch and look up, his bright green eyes were red from crying, his puffy. His face remarkably similar to your husband's. 'Ah, so this is his child, how cute.' You think. "Who are you?" He asked meekly, his voice raspy from crying for too long.

"[Y/n] [L/n], you can call me whatever you like. But more importantly, why are you crying alone?"

You ask him. He looks at you, his big eyes becoming even bigger as they widen in surprise. He quickly and roughly wipes the tears away from his eyes with his sleeve. Well, he tries at least, the tears don't seem to stop.

"Stop that, you'll only cause it to get more irritated." You tell him, gently grabbing his wrist and pull it away so you can wipe away his tears a a soft handkerchief. He sniffles but leans his head into your touch. 'Poor boy' you think, it's sad to see how willingly he accepts any form of affection or touch. You can only guess how long he's been hiding his feelings and needs from everyone.

Only now do you realize that he hasn't answered your question. Maybe he doesn't feel comfortable sharing that with you, that's alright, you won't push him for answers. You start to hear sniffling again. Then you feel two tiny hands hold your hand, pushing it closer to his face.

You smile softly, moving your other hand away to hide the handkerchief. "Hush now, there's no need to cry." You whisper while rubbing his cheek with your thumb. "What's your name?" You ask him even though you already knew his name. "Lucille..." He says quietly.

"Well then, Lucille, is there something that you might want to do?" You ask him, and after seeing his eyes light up, you knew you did the right thing. "I wanted to practice my magic with daddy, but he was busy." He mutters. "Then, if you don't mind, we can practice together, right here, right now if you want." You tell Lucille as he looks at you, stars in his eyes. "Really?" He asked you. "Really." You say as a matter of fact.

You've spent days on end with Lucille, juggling with handling house affairs and caring for your husband's child. "Mama, why does magic exist?" He asks for the tenth time today. Sitting on your lap because he refused to leave you alone.

You sigh; "Again, Lucille, I don't know, but maybe it's because someone stronger thought that we deserved or needed the help of nature to live. And how many times do I have to tell you: I'm not your mama." You tell him while working on the boring, yet important paperwork in your hands.

"But mama-!" He was cut short as you shushed him, placing your finger to his lips. "Ah ah ah, I told you before that I'm not your mama, I'm happy you think I'm your mother, but I'm not." You say before patting his head gently. "You must miss her-" "I don't know her..."

This time, you were cut off by Lucille. "What?" You say, voice soft. You were shocked, he'd never done that before. "I don't her, I don't know my mom." He starts his hands ball up into fist, crumpling his shorts. "Why should I miss someone I never knew? Mama was the one who took care of me and played with me, not daddy, not the dead woman, but mama." He says, it left you stunned as he looks at you.

"I don't know how to love someone I don't know, mama..." He says so quietly that you could barely pick it up. You spin him around on your lap so that he could face you. You gently wipe away his tears, telling him sweet nothings to get him to stop crying. You never expected that he'd react like this.

And neither did the duke's personal butler apparently. As he was walking down the halls of your side of the manor, he hears the young master's voice. 'The young boy has never gone here before, why would he be here now?' The elderly man puzzled.

But seeing you comforting a crying Lucille, after he had said that he did not feel any love towards his birth mother, was not what he expected.

Perhaps he should inform the master of this. After all, anything concerning Lucille or Lady Lucilia is of great importance, or so Duke Iver says. And frankly, it concerned him why the young master said that, and why he burst into tears after.

If on the off chance that you forced the boy to say that, he would not hesitate to keep the young master away from you. And if Lucille really feels that way? He would be divided, he was loyal to the young master who he's served all this time, but on the other hand, he cares for the child running around like the boy's his own grandson.

Telling the duke would mean a punishment. Not for Lucille, no, of course not. But for you, the one who possibly forced the young boy to say how he doesn't love his biological mother. But if you didn't force the boy, then it means that Lucille is comfortable with you, going so far as to call you 'mama'. And if you were hurt, then that would mean that Lucille would be hurt as well.

After weighing his options, the butler chose the safer route, to tell the duke what he had heard.

*knock* *knock* *knock*

He knocked on the wooden thrice, after waiting for a while he entered when he heard 'cone in'. Seeing the large and imposing man sitting at his desk, glasses hung loosely from his face while signing documents and writing letters. "What did you need, Henry?" Iver asked.

"Master, I'm afraid that young master Lucille may be being forced to say that he doesn't feel a connection to Lady Lucilia by Lord [L/n]. I am still unsure whether or not this assumption is correct but I feel it is better to inform you of this."

He says, he saw the way the duke stiffened and how his hand were shaking from how tightly he balled them up, the feather pen snapping in half under the pressure.

Iver stood up, his frame blocking most of the natural light from getting in. His amber eyes glowing as he ordered:

"Tell Lord [L/n] to come see me in my office. Now."

A/n : So, I guess we're turning this into a two part story. So.... Thank you for reading this I will give you a digital flower as payment<3 and thank you for my first seven heart givers. Even though it was still unfinished when I accidentally posted it(⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠) anyways, have a good day, all days, peace(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

Date published: November 6, 2024

#male reader #male yandere #mlm #male yandere x male reader #bxb #cute child #step father reader #reader becomes a mother-figure #divider by cafekitsune #first time writing on Tumblr (im still getting the hang of it)#lgbtq+

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jointherebellion215 · 10 months ago

Text

Birdie

John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader

Summary: A rare night out in London has Bucky coming to terms with his feelings for you.

Word Count: 2.9k

Tags: mechanic!reader, songbird!reader, female!reader, she/her pronouns used, drinking culture, cursing, mutual pining, moderate bouts of denial, insecurities, women supporting women because it's what we deserve, let's pretend that The Old Therebefore is an ancient Appalachian folk song in this universe, maybe she's a Mary Sue idgaf, I just wanted to write something happy so LET ME LIVE, WWII era, there's no Y/N but reader has the nickname "Birdie"

A/N: Yeah, I'm obsessed with Masters of the Air. I had to write something for my mans before the creative procrastination literally killed me. Please leave a like, comment, or even a reblog if you're so inclined :)

You can read my OC version of this story on AO3!

Songs Mentioned in This Fic:

Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy by The Andrews Sisters

G.I. Jive by Johnny Mercer

The Ole Therebefore (Accapella) by Rachel Zegler

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, don't copy my writing without explicit permission. That includes you, you AI sonuvabitch.

Your heels clicked on the cobblestone streets, turning into the pub you’d heard so much about. You were out celebrating a very rare weekend off. The Brass had somehow allowed you and twenty other mechanics from base two days leave, so you took advantage of the opportunity and headed straight to London.

Your two best girlfriends from base were with you. Teresa was one of the toughest nurses you’d ever come across. She could give you a wide grin, crinkles around her hazel eyes, and reset a broken bone without breaking a sweat. It helps that she was already working towards becoming a nurse back in New Mexico, the war just sped along that process. You had bonded over your love of books, giving each other recommendations almost weekly.

You’d met Irene on the boat to England. She puked on your shoes almost thirty minutes exactly after leaving the port in New York. You gave a small grin, offering her a handkerchief and a piece of ginger candy and the rest was history. Finding out that she was a fellow mechanic was the icing on the cake. Coming in at a whopping five foot two, the spritely blonde could easily be found in a crowd with her loud Appalachian accent.

It seemed almost like fate for the three of you to have found each other. Being some of the few women on base naturally made you close, but you were closer with Irene and Teresa than any of the others. That’s not to say that you weren’t friends with any of the men, because you were. Friendly.

All three of you were dressed to the nines, in contradiction to your everyday work wear. You all got ready together in your hotel room, giggling while you applied makeup here, spritzed some perfume there. You all felt confident and were ready to have a good time. You spotted some familiar faces and made your way over towards them, your friends linked arm-in-arm with you. Lemmons was the first to greet you.

Of the fifty men on the ground crew, Sgt. Ken Lemmons was the most welcoming of them all. From the get-go, he didn’t care if you were a man or woman. He just wanted to know that you were capable. You were sure he had to go through some hazing because of his age, which probably changed his perspective on gatekeeping the job. This made earning and maintaining respect a lot easier for the women on your crew. We all came over with the same goal, it was better for all if we just helped each other out.

“Hey Birdie! Nice to see you out and about.”

Ah, the famed nickname. You tend to hum and sing under your breath when elbow-deep in a project. It helps you pass the time and clear your mind. Of course, the rest of the ground crew quickly caught on to this habit of yours, which quickly earned you the nickname “Birdie”. You, of course, never sing solo in public, so this confuses anyone who’s not around you while you’re working. But the name stuck, so here you are. Birdie.

Chairs are quickly cleared for you and your friends, which you all graciously take. You go up to buy some drinks, knowing what your friends like, and quickly return with your drinks of choice. Conversation flows, laughs are shared, and a few drinking games are played over the next hours. Teresa soon speaks up on a topic you’d been hoping to avoid.

“Do you think he’ll be here tonight?”

You shrug and look into your drink, “Dunno. Why does it matter?”

Irene, the ever supportive best friend that she is, backs up Teresa. “What do you mean ‘why’? This is your chance to finally make a move!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You quickly deny, taking another sip.

An unladylike snort leaves Irene, “My ass! You and Major Egan have been making googly eyes at each other when you think the other’s not looking for months. I’m saying it’s time for you to perk your tits up, buck on over and ride that—!” You slam your drink on the table, pressing your hand over Irene’s mouth, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Are you insane?” You whisper harshly, looking around to make sure no one overheard you. You seem to be in the clear, which makes you calm down a bit. Irene pushes off your hand, takes a swig of her drink, and consults the person who started this whole conversation.

“Am I wrong?” You look to Teresa, who cringes slightly in agreement.

You gape at the pair of them. Normally, you were the median between the two girls who had vastly differing opinions. But this is what made them come to a consensus? Unbelievable.

“Look, I’m not saying that I don’t want to.” You start, which makes your friends nod encouragingly at you. “It’s just that… Is he really as interested as you think he is?”

They both groan and slump against each other, like they’d just run a marathon. Teresa sits up, scooching your chair in closer so that the three of you were in a private triangle, cut off from the rest of the group.

“Let’s look at the facts here, okay?” Teresa starts to tick off a finger with each point she and Irene make. But you seem to always have a rebuttal at the ready.

“He brings you coffee every morning.”

“I thought he does that for everyone.”

“He constantly fixes his hair when you’re around.”

“He takes care of his appearance!”

“He walks you to the mess hall every day for dinner.”

“We just happen to be going the same way. And we happen to have the same dinner schedule.”

“He read The Hobbit when you said how much you loved it.”

“He’s an adventurous guy, it’s an adventurous book, what’s not to like about it?”

“You two literally will walk and talk outside alone for hours.”

“A man can’t have a stimulating conversation with a woman?”

“He laughs at all your dumb jokes.”

“Hey! They’re not all dumb. Like, the one with the goose and the—”

“Point proven. Anyways! He has your picture in the inside pocket of his jacket.”

That one stops you in your tracks. You brain tries to justify this meaning but comes up blank.

“He…” You struggle with an excuse. “He…” Your best friends give victorious smirks in your direction.

“He… likes the extra padding in his jacket?” You stutter over what is possibly the most pathetic, sorry excuse you could have ever come up with.

“When are you gonna admit to yourself that he likes you? Like, actually truly likes you?”

You gave a sad sigh, letting the insecurity you were feeling deep down come to the surface. “I just… He’s just so…” You had stomped down your feelings for so long that it was becoming hard to articulate what exactly you’re feeling.

“He just seems so unreal. Like, of everyone he could have chosen, why me? I mean, I know I’m great. But you’ve seen the other girls on base. They’re all so beautiful, smart, classy… and none of them are covered in engine oil ninety percent of the time.” You looked down at your hands, specks of grease and oil peeking out from beneath your nail beds. It seems like it would never completely wash out, no matter how hard you scrubbed. You hadn’t even painted your nails for this weekend, knowing it would be money wasted come Monday morning when you’re back on the clock.

Teresa and Irene share a look that you don’t see, then come forward and grab each of your hands.

“The words you just used to describe those girls. All of that is you, Birdie. That and more. You being a mechanic doesn’t make you any less of a woman, and to hell with anyone else who thinks otherwise.” You nodded in agreement, Irene’s words of encouragement slowly washing away your anxieties.

Teresa spoke up next, “You deserve someone who will rearrange the stars and the whole night sky for you. And I’m more than willing to bet that Major Egan is up for the job.”

“Besides, none of that 'unreal' stuff. At the end of the day, John Egan is nothing more than a man. If he can’t look past his nose and his d—" You gave a squeak to cover up the vulgar word Irene was about to blurt in public. She rolled her eyes fondly and continued.

“If he can’t see what you’re worth and make the effort to treat you a hundred times better than that? That’s on him. Not you. You know what you deserve, and you deserve everything you want. Absolutely everything.”

You sniffed, happy tears coming to your eyes. You brought your best friends in for a hug, thanking them profusely.

“Don’t sweat it,” Teresa grins into your shoulder “every girl needs to be pulled out of her well sometime.”

You pull back from the hug, grabbing your glass and tipping your head back, finishing the rest of your drink. “Even if he’s not gonna be here, let’s have a ball!” Your girlfriends cheer as the three of you go to the bar for refills.

One drink turns into two, which turns into a few more, and suddenly you’re buzzed. Your group are having a rambunctious time, Irene dancing by the local piano player. Once Irene looks over to you, she stops and whispers in the player’s ear. He nods, then starts a new tune. Irene starts up her voice, walking over to you and Teresa, encouraging you to join her.

The alcohol has loosened you up enough that you don’t feel the nausea you usually associate with being perceived, so you join in the harmonies you and your friends have practiced in your bunks at night.

He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way

He had a boogie style that no one else could play

He was the top man at his craft

But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft

Soon the whole pub was jumping and dancing along to the tune as you brought a new vibe to the pub. It was like a spark that started an entirely new night and everyone was eager to go on forever.

One song turns into an entire set, which ends with a full rendition of G.I. Jive, which had everyone singing along. It was a magical moment; made you feel like you were a part of something important.

Irene sidles up to you, giving you a hug. She says in your ear,

“I think it’s time to slow it down a bit. How about you sing that song I taught you.”

She means an old Appalachian folk song that’s been in her family for generations. You had heard her sing it one night and immediately loved the dark, but strong nature of the lyrics. It was an honor to learn it from her.

“I don’t know, it’s your family’s song and…”

“And I can’t think of anyone better to sing it to these soldiers.” You gave each other a look, her slight eyebrow raise gave you the courage to nod in acceptance. She smiled, hugging you again, her voice yelled out to the crowd.

“Birdie’s gonna sing solo!”

The announcement is met with raucous applause, Irene and Teresa shoving you towards a dodgy looking table. Crank offers a hand up, which you take gratefully. As you find your bearings on the tabletop, you quickly spin around and find all eyes on you.

The crackling energy in the air seemed to simmer, the fast-beating hearts of the pubgoers recognizing a moment to acknowledge you. Nausea starts to make an appearance, but a deep breath quells the sensation within you for the time being.

You take another deep breath. Inhale, exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

You close your eyes, open your mouth, and sing.

Meanwhile….

Majors Gale Cleven and John Egan walk down the familiar street, one eager to catch up with his fellow countrymen’s alcohol intake, the other just happy to spend time with his friends. They were arriving later to the festivities due to being caught up in filling out reports. By far the worst part of having a higher rank was the paperwork.

“It’s pretty quiet.” Buck acknowledges. “They’re usually rowdier by this point.”

Bucky sniffs, shrugging off the concern. “Ah, it’s probably nothing.”

As the two men approach the pub, they find that a crowd has formed. Soldiers, civilians, RAF, USAAF, old, young— people had obviously stopped to watch whatever was going on. It was dead silent, save for a voice singing. Was there a radio show on or something?

A familiar face peeks out at them from the crowd, DeMarco quickly waving them over.

Bucky is quick to question, “Hey, what’s going on?” but is immediately shushed by nearby crowd members. Buck cringes in apology, despite not being the one to disturb the peace. His best friend, ever unshaken by the opinion of strangers, carries on.

DeMarco leans in, whispering, “Your girl’s taking us all to church.”

“My girl..?” Bucky’s nose scrunches in confusion. He makes space through the crowd and quickly makes sense of DeMarco’s words. It was you.

I’ll catch you up

When I’ve emptied my cup

When I’ve worn out my friends

When I’ve burned out both ends

Standing on a tabletop, watchful eyes sat all around you like baby ducks flocking to their mama. You were captivating everyone with each note and word that flows from your mouth. Damn, you've got a set of pipes— a voice that belongs on the radio, in concert halls, on Hollywood records. He had no idea.

His little Birdie.

“Wow.” Buck mutters in awe from behind him, and Bucky couldn’t be more in agreement.

When I’m pure like a dove

When I’ve learned how to love

He hadn’t noticed before, but her eyes were closed. Like she needed to concentrate on each and every breath she took, every single movement her body made, before letting them out in an angelic melody.

As if by divine intervention, her eyes pop open and lock on his as she belts “how to love”

It could’ve been an eternity, for all he knows, the amount of time that they spent locked in each other’s gaze. The world pauses around them, everything frozen. Her eyes were already the kind to knock a man clean off his feet with a single gaze, but he thinks- for a brief moment- that his heart completely stops beating.

John Clarence Egan would swear every day from then on, until his dying breath, that the course of his life was altered in that very moment. He knew how it would continue from then on, and how it would end. How he wanted it to end.

Then the world starts back up and carries on.

Right here in the old therebefore

When nothing is left anymore

Her final hums are joined by a short blonde woman who stands nearby, another face he recognizes from base.

The applause that picks up after the end of the song is near deafening. The star of the hour gives a shy smile, a quick curtsy and is given a hand to step down from the table.

Everyone soon starts mingling, the normal chatter of the bar returning. But Bucky is stuck in his spot, dumbfounded. In all the conversations you’d had together, somehow this never came up. He should’ve put two and two together, as he recalls overhearing your hums one morning as he made his daily coffee delivery to you. But you had been caught off guard, so much so that you tripped off the ladder you stood on and fell. Luckily, his quick reflexes kicked in to catch you before any serious injuries occurred.

Remembering the sensation of his hands on your waist and thighs, face just inches from yours, sent his brain into a tailspin. That’s not even considering just how damn cute you were when, after a beat, you turned away from him and playfully mourned the cups of coffee that were splattered all over the hardstand.

“John. John?” A hand waving in front of his face knocks him out of his reverie. He blinks once, twice. Then looks to his best friend.

His voice comes out uncharacteristically weak in response, to which he then clears his throat and corrects. “Yes—yeah?” He pops the collar of his sheepskin jacket to try and hide the rampant red of his ears that signals the heat radiating from them.

Buck just shakes his head and gives him a knowing smile. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Egan. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“See what day?” Bucky starts to consciously return to his body, leaning on the bar.

“The day when a girl finally knocks you on your ass. I knew you had a thing for her, but that?” He points to his face and motions to indicate where they had just been standing. “That’s something else. That’s something real.”

Bucky gives another shrug in response, to which Buck throws back an unconvinced frown. He turns his head to gaze over the pub patrons and is distracted by you once again. Any denial he was about to spout immediately dies in his mouth when you lock eyes with him again and give him a dazzling smile. The world starts to fade away again.

His heart pumps faster in his chest at the sight. Damnit. He sighs, telling his best friend the truth he’s been privately wrestling with for a while now, all the while keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“I know, Buck. I know.”

Bucky smiles back at you and is elated when your face lights up. You give him a wave.

“She kinda snuck up on me.”

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runningfrom2am · 10 months ago

Text

red blazer (c.s.)

pairing: coryo x fem!reader

wc: 2k

tags/warnings: reader is arachne's "little sister" (they're like, a year apart lol but she GIVES little sister), sexual content if you actually squint, arachne is mean but in a big sister way, otherwise it's just cute and kinda funny. idk. enjoy!

requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)

nav / coriolanus snow masterlist

a/n: omg second ever coryo oneshot from me. LISTEN- i know i should do more of these BUT i loveee doing series for him bc his personality is SO fun to work with. anyway lol, check out my coryo series'.

"Maybe if you spent less time annoying me and my friends you would make some of your own." Arachne hums, sensing you standing in the doorway to the dining room where she and her friends were apparently working on some kind of assignment.

"I didn't even say anything!" You whine. "I was literally just coming to say hi."

"Well, don't. No one wants to say hi to you."

You pout, staring at her and crossing your arms. "Can I sit? Just for a few minutes? I won't even say anything. I won't bother you, I promise." There was an extremely tempting empty seat across from your sister and next to her friend Coriolanus that you'd been eying since you walked in.

He was just so pretty, so well composed, so tall, you were in love. Your crush on him had been lifelong, and with him only thirteen months older than you, it wasn't at all weird or totally unattainable. That's what you'd been telling yourself, anyway.

Arachne rolls her eyes, slamming her pen down on the table. "I already told you, the fact that you even exist is annoying to me. So, no. Go. Away."

"Arachne, it's fine if she sits for a few minutes." Clemensia cuts in, eager to just be polite but it makes you smile, nodding excitedly.

"Yeah, not everyone is as easily distracted as you are." Your heart flutters in your chest as Coriolanus comes to your defense, and you're already across the room and sliding into the seat next to him.

"You underestimate how annoying my little sister is." Arachne mumbles through gritted teeth, already looking back down at her textbook.

Coriolanus looks over at you and smiles, making the butterflies in your stomach erupt into a panicked frenzy.

"Hi." You whisper, cheeks flushing red.

"Hi." He replies quietly, his tone apologetic.

To Coriolanus Snow, Arachne's little sister was an outlier to her incredibly stuck-up family. She acted out often, was no stranger to commanding the attention of every room she entered, and to him, was the most beautiful girl to ever walk the academy halls.

So every time a group project or paper was assigned, he was forcing himself into the seat next to the oldest Crane daughter and requesting that they work together.

"Maybe at your house? Like usual?"

And it worked, one hundred percent of the time.

"What are you working on?" You whisper, leaning your elbow on the table and looking at the books he had laid out in front of him.

"Nothing fun, I assure you." He chuckles quietly, and you ignore your sister's glare that you could feel burning into your forehead.

"That's boring." You sigh quietly. "What's your favourite class?"

"Law."

"Law?" The way you scrunch up your nose and question his answer makes him smile. "I am sorry for you."

He laughs even though you weren't joking, about to ask what your favourite class was when he's stopped by your sister shouting.

"Mom! Y/N's annoying us, make her go away!"

In a flash, you're shoving the chair back and darting out of the room, disappearing down the long hall of the penthouse.

You were adorable. He knew at that moment that he had to have you.

Being Arachne Crane's "little" sister was a nightmare all on its own. She was annoying, she hated you or at least acted like it, and despite being the baby of the family it felt like every day you were making desperate attempts to claw your way out of her and your brother's collective shadow.

Maybe that's all this was. Did you really like Coriolanus, or did you just like annoying your sister?

The thought crossed your mind only momentarily before Coryo tugged gently at your hair to turn your head so he could detach his lips from yours only to move his kisses and gentle bites to your neck.

Nope, there was no way this had anything to do with your sister.

You let out a soft sigh, holding his shoulders to support yourself as you straddle his lap on the edge of your bed. "Coryo..." You whine, pouting because you know he only has so much time before his absence from the dining room would be truly noticed, and he was dragging this out more than he probably should.

"Tell me what you need, pretty girl." He hums into your skin, his hold on you shifting your hips and tightening over the waistband of your underwear- the only remaining article of clothing on your body.

"Hurry." You mumble, tilting your head down to capture his lips again.

"I told her I was leaving." He tells you between kisses. "We have all the time in the world." You can feel the smile on his lips against your own, and you match it in excitement.

By now, you'd been sneaking around for months. It had been fun, but certainly exhausting.

Worth it. One hundred percent worth it. You think to yourself as he lifts you to turn you over and lay you back on your perfectly made bed, leaning over you and reattaching his lips to your neck.

"How will you leave?" You ask breathlessly as his large hand finds your waist again, gentle but firm in its hold.

"We'll figure it out." He mumbles, clearly very far from concerned about it.

You're almost too caught in the moment to hear the banging on your door that causes you both to freeze, heads snapping in the direction of the sound.

"Y/N! Where's my shirt?! I know you took it!"

Arachne.

"Shit, shit, uh-" You panic as Coryo very quickly jumps off of you, tumbling loudly off the bed and onto the ground getting caught on the edge of your duvet.

"What the hell are you doing? I'm coming in-"

"No!" You shout, panicked as you look around. "Uh- one second, I'm naked!" Not entirely a lie. While Coryo gathers his academy uniform that's scattered across the floor, having left him only in his black boxers, you pull a towel off the back of your door and wrap it around yourself.

You have to hide him. Quickly scanning the room, you have three options: your walk-in closet, under the bed, or in your bathroom.

"Get in the closet." You whisper, quickly shoving him toward the door.

"I don't care, I need my shirt!" Arachne says, the sound of her opening your door masking the sound of your closet door closing.

Your chest is rising and falling quickly as she marches in, immediately looking around. "God, what took you so long? You look like you're having a heart attack." She mutters, digging through the laundry basket that was yet to be taken by the house staff.

"I was about to have a shower." You answer, forcing yourself to not look in the direction of the closet.

"Right." Arachne rolls her eyes, stomping into the bathroom to begin looking there.

"Why the hell are you showering at six pm? We have dinner at the Creed's in an hour." She calls out.

"That's obviously why I'm having a shower." Honestly, you had totally forgotten about dinner.

"Yeah, you probably should. It stinks in here."

You roll her eyes at her comment, but they widen in horror as her warpath begins toward the closet. "No! Wait!" You stop her, clutching the towel to your chest as you step in front of the door to stop her. "Uh- what shirt are you looking for?"

"Which shirt? The white one, with the lace trim collar. Oh my god, do you have more than one?" She asks angrily.

"Oh, that one is in the laundry. They took it yesterday." You lie and she groans, walking back toward the door.

"I hate you! God, you make everything so difficult." She mutters, stopping on her walk back to the door and looking at the few articles of clothing scattered around your bed. You follow her gaze, biting your tongue and internally cursing when you notice Coryo's blazer that was dropped haphazardly on top of the pile. She picks it up, looking it over with a furrowed brow. You watch as she looks over at yours, which is neatly pressed and folded for the morning sitting on your desk chair.

"A men's medium." She says as she reads the tag, pausing before turning back to you slowly, this time, with an off-putting smile on her face. "Who's in the closet?" She whispers, and your face burns more than it already was.

"No one." You answer quickly, possibly too quickly.

"You're lying." She states, and you shake your head quickly. It doesn't go over her head that you look like a deer caught in the headlights. "Then you won't mind if I..." She says, starting off slow before breaking into a run toward the door which you instinctively block with your body, gripping the towel with one hand and holding out the other arm to block her while you fight for the door handle handle.

"I knew it!" She hisses, finally giving up and pointing a finger right at your nose. Quickly, she looked back over her shoulder toward the open door to make sure no one else was around before she spoke again. "Is it Allium?" She asks quietly, for some reason suddenly interested in who you spend your time with, and if it's with that boy in your year who continually gets on your nerves.

You shake your head again, swallowing thickly.

"Tell me who it is."

"No one!" You lie, already knowing the bit was up as she tosses the blazer back to where she found it.

"Ugh, you're no fun." She rolls her eyes, shoving you gently before turning to leave. "Whatever. I don't care. Just don't get pregnant- I know you're stupid and all but Mom will skin you alive."

"Get out!" You snap, walking over and shoving her out the door before slamming it behind her.

You hear her laugh as she walks away, steps receding down the hall back in the direction of her own room.

You let out a tense sigh of relief, waiting a moment to hear her door closed before going over to the closet and opening the door.

Coryo is still laughing to himself as he buttons up his shirt and tucks the back of it into his pants. "Stop!" You exclaim in a whisper, giving him a gentle smack on the shoulder but you can't help but laugh as well. "It's not funny!"

"It's pretty funny." He says lowly, leaning down to kiss you softly.

"It's not that funny." You roll your eyes playfully. "We could get in serious trouble, sneaking around like this! God- it's crazy." You sigh, shaking your head as you step back into your room, suddenly serious.

He follows, sensing your worries as you drop the towel with your back facing him, quickly pulling a t-shirt on to cover up. "We can't- we have to stop." You shake your head, talking mostly to yourself.

"Hey, woah, that's a little rash, don't you think?" He asks as you turn back to face him.

"I don't!" You insist. "I mean, it sucks, but this is far too risky. We're done with... whatever this is."

Coryo shrugs, clearly unaffected by your concerns. "Let's just... next time, let's just go for dinner or something."

You tilt your head at him. "What? That's not, we can't-"

"Why not?" He asks, closing the space between you and reaching his hands out to grab your waist. "Your sister will suck it up eventually. Once she realizes how in love you are with me."

"I- I am not in love with you!" You protest, cheeks flushing pink again. "And even if I was, which I am most definitely not, she would scalp me. She doesn't care, I can't date one of her friends."

"Let me handle her." He insists, once again shrugging it off. "I'm being serious. I really like spending time with you, would it be the worst thing if we were together?"

"Wait, like, you're asking me out?"

He gives you a quick nod, still smiling at you.

"I- I mean sure, if that's what you want." You nod, blush spreading evenly across your nose. You had to blink a few times to confirm you were awake and that this was real.

"I'm asking if that's what you want." He chuckles.

"Yeah, yes. Of course." You shake your head, trying to get your thoughts straight and pull yourself together. "I would like that, Coryo."

taglist: @keziahcore, @soulessjourney, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @gloryekaterina, @andrewgarfieldsbitch, @queenofspades6, @pepperonipastas, @ladybug0095, @lunamothwrites, @sbrewer21, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @unclecrunkle, @karmaswitch, @rororo06, @coconut-dreamz, @nekee-lilac02, @ooooglymoooogly, @slytherinholland, @riddlerloveb0t, @lovedbalances, @notyourwildestdream, @snowlandson-top, @too-lit-for-fanfic, @utopiakys, @deafeningballoonnacho, @darlingisntit, @chmpgneprblem, @cosmoetik, @lauravanderbooben20, @dry0campa, @luclue, @lokidala, @urvampgfsworld, @carolanns-world, @that-veela-girl

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lostintransist · 3 months ago

Text

This Bunny Bites - Part 2

The men sat down at a busy bar two buildings down from the strip club. Soap looked like he had taken a flash bang to the face. Eyes wide and unseeing and unable to hear anything going on around him.

“Soap,” Ghost took a tight grip of his shoulder, shaking him once.

He twitched and looked at his friend.

“What the hell is my baby sister doing a strip club looking like that?” Soap’s voice cracked on the last word.

“What I would like to know Soap is how you failed to mention a sister.” Price looked him over, searching for any other hidden secrets that might rise to the surface.

Price’s anger settled over him like a cloak. He couldn’t keep his team safe if they kept secrets like whole people from him.

“I haven’t seen my sister since I ran away from our dad’s house when I was seventeen Cap. I haven’t looked her up ever, I’ll give you all my passwords, you can check.” Soap pleaded his case, a hint of panic edging into his voice.

Price sighed. He had heard Soap lie, and lie well enough, to know this had to be truth. He could see the similarities between them, it happened in their smiles.

“I believe you Soap, but if any one else has a secret family member they haven’t told me about yet you need to speak up now or I will rip you a new asshole when I find out.” Price glared at Simon and Gaz. Simon shook his head and Gaz threw his hands up in a classic ‘don’t shoot’ pose.

Price pinched the bridge of his nose, focusing on breathing through the anger he still carried. “Soap, go and get our drinks from the bar, I need a second.”

“Coming right up Cap.” Soap scooted from tabled they had secured, heading for the bar.

“We need to find a way into Jeffrey Dutson’s personal bedroom, I don’t have time to be worrying about Soap finding his long lost sister.” Price moved on to rubbing his eyebrows, focusing trying to think through all the logistics that would be required to pull off their next job.

Soap deposited all four drinks on the table before sitting back on the bench seat.

“Seems like Soap’s long lost sister could actually help with that,” Gaz took a sip of his beer.

The comment caught Soap mid sip of his own drink. He choked on it, some of the burning liquid coming out of his nose.

Ghost thumped on his back with a fist. Once Soap could breathe again he glared at Gaz.

“We are leaving Bunny out of this.”

Price leaned back, thinking over the idea. “Why? She isn’t important enough for you to keep tabs on and she fits the profile of the women Dutson usually is drawn to.”

“And what is that,” Soap snaps.

Ghost replies now, “Tall, busty, legs for days, easy on the eyes, with enough personality to work a room.”

The glare Soap sent his best friend could have scorched the table between them.

“Donnae talk about her like that,” his accent came out thick when he got mad like this.

“Actually Ghost, research her. See what she has buried. Let’s reach out and see what her price would be to help on this project.” Price took a long sip of his drink, swirling the glass slowly on top of the table.

“Of course Captain. Are we trying to press her into working with us or asking nicely?” Ghost shifts up his mask enough to capture his straw.

“Price I am beggin’ you don’t drag her into this.” Soap glares down at the table as he pleads.

“We will ask her and if we can’t find an arrangement that works for everyone I will find someone else. But the party is in three months, we need a woman working for us now if we have any hope of getting our hands on his notebook.” Price stopped the swirling of his glass. He looked at Soap until the man looked back. “Right now because she’s your sister she is our best chance at having someone we can trust.”

“That’s the thing Cap. She isn’t going to trust us, she hates me.” His voice is bleak.

“Well what a good time for a family reunion then huh?” Price lifted a brow.

There would be no budging on this topic. Soap cursed into his drink, tossed it back and stood to buy himself another one. This would blow up in his fucking face and he didn’t want to be sober when it happened.

❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋

Ghost started digging into the history of Johnny’s sister once they reached the hotel after the bar. He had nearly to carry Soap out of the bar. He didn’t find much, of anything really. She and Johnny shared a father and were two years apart in age. She had remained in the custody of their father after her mother died of an overdose. She had graduated high school a year early and had moved across the country on her own, ending in the port city the 141 had found themselves in. She worked at Hands Off Club and had for several years from the tax forms he had been able to dig up.

Ghost managed to crack into the local hospital records looking for anything, finding only flu shots and a tetanus shot from a few years back. So far no skeletons they could threaten you with. Good, Ghost preferred to make skeletons rather than rattle them. The last thing he found were several properties with your name listed on the deeds, but no accompanying mortgages. After digging through everything he could without breaking into anything truly classified he shut the computer down and settled into bed.

As he lay in the dark he contemplated his next move. A piece being moved across a board. Your turn.

Part 1 | Part 3

Masterlist | Bunny Masterlist

#fanfiction #cod #ghost x reader #cod x reader #simon riley x reader

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jasmines-library · 5 months ago

Note

could I request a batman and Damian x daughter/sister reader who has native american heritage from their mom's side and since meeting their paternal family as an adult often gifts them things like traditional handicrafts like beaded lanyards, ribbon shirts, card holders, brooches, beaded moccasins, moose hyde gloves and even a beautiful beaded hyde jacket (that she dyed black🤭) and it gets to the point where they're rooms and even the cave is full of little items made by them. Also, it'd be cute if she teaches Damian how to do traditional crafts and even shows him how to cut up & make dry meat because they never had a younger sibling to teach it too and got excited upon meeting Damian.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Note: I hope this is okay. I also hope i did my research right, but please correct me if im wrong!

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

"What you got there?" Damian asked as he entered the dining room. You were sat at the table by the window where the lighting was good, craft supplies sprawled out in front of you as your trained hands worked.

You held up the delicate fabric up to him. A handmade ribbon shirt, with neat patchwork sewn in. You had been working on the project all day, trying to perfect it. You liked to make them gifts, and they liked to receive them twice as much. Each thing you made them was intricately crafted by and and with a great sense of love and care. Weather it was a beaded lanyard to hand their bits and bobs from, or a brooch, or something larger like the ribbon shirts you liked to sew, they treasured each and every thing. You also felt a great sense of pride giving your family the things you made; it made them feel included in your culture that you were so proud of. Damian's absolute favourite was the black hyde jacket that you had gifted him.

Your family adored your gifts and culture so much that it had gotten to the point where your trinkets were scattered all over the cave, adding a homely and personal touch to something usually so dark and dindgey.

"It's for Tim." You said, placing the shirt back on the table to examine your work.

"It's beautiful." Damian said, looking it over. "You'll have to teach me someday."

your face lit up. "Really? you want to learn?! I'd love to teach you!"

"If you're willing to teach me, yeah."

you scooted your chair over to the side making room for him to pull up another before reaching over for your craft box, filled with beads and delicate feathers and strings to weave and craft with. "Come sit! i'll show you."

Damian took a seat beside you watching closely as you demonstrated how to craft something. He watched keenly, repeating your movements, though with slightly less expertise, though you were sure that in no time, you would have another set of hands to help you craft.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

BATFAM TAGS

@hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish @killxz @rosecentury @lara20aral

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

#batfam x reader #batfamily #batfam #batfamily x reader #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #robin #robin x reader #tim drake #tim drake x reader #native american #crafts #fanfiction #dc #dc x reader #batfam fanfiction

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merrybloomwrites · 4 months ago

Text

The Only Way of Knowing You (Chapter 1)

Story Summary: After a chance encounter, Y/N finds herself on a series of dates with Harry Styles. She shares with him her innocence regarding physical intimacy, and he takes his responsibility in teaching her all about that very seriously.

Chapter Summary: Y/N is overjoyed to head to the hospital to meet her new nephew, and ends up meeting Harry Styles as well.

Word Count: 1.7K

CW: mentions of people giving birth

AN: So excited to finally post this series! I've really enjoyed writing this and hope you'll all like it. Thank you to the anon who requested shy virgin reader!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’re anxiously waiting to get a text or a call from your brother-in-law. You’d spoken to your sister yesterday morning and she mentioned that she felt like she was having contractions and would probably be in labor soon. So casually! You figured that since this is her second baby she must be feeling more relaxed about the whole situation.

But that doesn’t stop you from worrying about her for the whole day and a half between that call and when your phone finally rings again, Brian’s name appearing on the screen. He’d been sending regular updates to you and your parents and the last one sent almost two hours ago just said “it’s time”.

So this call must mean your new nephew is finally born. You quickly grab the phone and answer the call.

“Brian, hi!”

“He’s here!” He exclaims. “Born at 1:35, 7 pounds, 2 ounces, 21 and a half inches long.”

“How is he doing? How is Kyra?”

“He’s perfect! Kyra did great, she’s resting at the moment. We'll send a picture soon. She asked that no one come this afternoon but we’d love for you to stop by tomorrow. Your parents are coming in the morning and bringing Wyatt to meet her little brother.”

“Ok great! I’ll talk to them and coordinate what time.”

“Awesome, you’re gonna love him! Listen I’ve got a couple more calls and I want to get back to them but I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye Brian, give Kyra my love!”

“Will do, bye Y/N.”

You hang up and literally squeal with excitement and relief that he’s here and everyone is doing well. You let out another happy noise when you get a couple pictures from Brian. You’re immediately in love with this little boy, even if he looks like an alien/old man hybrid. You wish you knew his name, but your sister made it clear she is keeping it a secret until you and your parents meet him in person.

At 8PM your mom calls and you figure they just got Wyatt to sleep. You talk for a bit and make plans to all meet at the hospital the following morning at 11.

You’re so excited that it’s nearly impossible to fall asleep, but you manage. The next morning passes quickly, and suddenly it’s time to head to the hospital.

Once there you find your parents and your niece signing in and you do so as well. Finally, the four of you make your way to the right room. Just like when you met Wyatt nearly three years prior, you immediately fall in love with this little baby the second he’s placed in your arms.

“Everyone, meet Jasper Lucas,” your sister says.

For half an hour you all get to spend time with Jasper as well as check in on Kyra, who truthfully looks fantastic for having just given birth the day before. You and your parents step out in order to give the family of four some time together.

Your mom comments that she could use a coffee and your dad hastily agrees so they head off to the cafeteria. You figure they must not be used to taking care of a toddler and decide to go over and help out that evening.

They ask if you want anything and you decline, choosing to instead go into one of the family waiting rooms and check on a project for work.

The room is empty when you enter but after a minute you hear footsteps. Looking up from your phone, you’re shocked to see who just walked in.

Harry Styles casually sits in one of the other chairs. You subtly glance at him, noting his jeans and sweater combo, as well as the look of pure excitement on his face. After pointedly looking anywhere but at him for a moment you can't help but turn towards him again.

“Hi!” he says cheerfully when he notices you looking at him.

“Hello,” you manage to squeak out.

“I’m Harry,” he says, leaning towards you with his hand out.

“I’m Y/N,” you reply while politely shaking his hand, hoping you’re doing it right. Which is wild because you;ve shaken hands with people hundreds of times but like, this is Harry Styles.

“My sisters just had a baby,” he adds, and now you understand why he’s practically vibrating with glee.

“Congratulations! Mine has as well. Is this Gemma’s first?” You realize a second later how creepy you now sound, using his sister's name when he hadn’t even told it to you.

Before you can apologize he laughs and says, “Yes, her first. So you know who I am then?”

“I mean, I don’t live under a rock so yes, I am aware that you’re Harry Styles.”

“Can you do me a favor then, love?”

You nod, willing to do anything he asks, especially if he continues to use such sweet terms of endearment like ‘love’.

“Gems kept this whole pregnancy private, and isn’t planning to announce she’s had a baby for a few weeks. I probably should’ve kept my mouth shut, but I just had to tell someone. Can you help keep this a secret and not let anyone know about the baby?”

“Oh of course, yea, secret’s safe with me.”

“I appreciate it. We may be adults now, but I think I’ll always fear the wrath of my big sister,” he says with another laugh. “Is this your sister's first as well?” he asks.

“No, I have a niece, Wyatt, she turns three next month,” you reply.

“And this little one, boy or girl?”

“Boy. His name is Jasper. My sister always said she wanted one girl and one boy so I guess she got her wish.”

You refrain from asking him the same question, not wanting to look like you're asking for personal information about his family, but he apparently doesn’t feel that way because he says, “Gemma had a girl. The tiniest little thing. I think. At least she looks that way in the picture.”

“You haven’t been able to see them yet?”

“Not quite, they needed a few more minutes before they were ready. Our mum’s in there with her, has been the whole time, so I’ve been anxiously waiting on my own.

“I feel that. I was the same way the past couple of days.”

“Well at least we have each other now, I feel much less jittery being able to talk to you,” he says.

“Glad I could help. People say I’m an excellent conversationalist.”

“Oh I can see that already, I’m quite enjoying this conversation.”

Just then Harry’s mum, Anne, walks into the room.

“Harry dear, they’re ready for you,” she says, giving you a quick smile before she walks out again.

He jumps out of his seat and says, “Sorry to cut it short, but-”

“Not a problem! Go, meet your niece. Bet she’ll be very happy to meet her Uncle Harry,” you reply.

“Would you want to keep talking? Later?”

You look at him, confused. “I’m not sure how long I’m going to be at the hospital.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean here. I just meant, maybe we could meet again, some other time. At some other place. Preferably with better coffee.”

“Are you asking me to hang out with you at a coffee shop?” you inquire, wanting to make sure you fully understand what is happening.

“I am. Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve actually asked someone on a date, guess I’m a tad rusty.”

Your eyes go wide at the word ‘date’. You were already perplexed, wondering why he’d want to hang out with you as friends, but making it a date?

Your mouth works faster than your brain, and before you can really think through your answer, you hear yourself saying, “I’d love to get coffee with you.”

“Fantastic! Here, write your number in my phone and I’ll text you to set something up,” he replies while unlocking and handing over his phone. You’re practically on autopilot typing in your info and handing the phone back to him.

“I should go, I’ve got a niece to meet. It really was lovely chatting with you.”

“I agree. Say congrats to your sister for me!”

“I will, please say the same to your sister.”

“Of course,” you reply.

“Goodbye Y/N. I’ll talk to you soon.

“Looking forward to it. Goodbye Harry.”

With one last shy smile, he walks out of the room, leaving you standing there feeling rather shell shocked. You don’t have long to dwell before your own mother pops back in saying Kyra is ready for you all to go back.

You spend another hour there before leaving to go out and get some lunch. While you’re at a local restaurant, trying to encourage Wyatt to eat her lunch rather than play with it, you get a text from Brian saying Kyra and the baby will be discharged later that afternoon.

After lunch you go to their house and entertain Wyatt while your parents make sure everything is clean and ready for them to come home. Brian, Kyra, and Jasper arrive just before dinner, so you stay to make sure everyone eats and is as content as possible.

You leave after cleaning the dishes, knowing everyone is ready to settle down for the evening. Back home you hop in the shower, and when you get out, you have a text from an unknown number. It reads, “Hello, Y/N, it’s Harry.”

Your eyes go wide and you let out a nervous giggle. Honestly, there’s a part of you that thought you had hallucinated the interaction this afternoon, but here’s proof that it all really happened. Before you can type back you get another message from him saying, “If you’re not busy, how would you feel about getting coffee this Saturday? Say 1PM at Inkwell Cafe?”

“Sounds perfect,” you reply. Your phone dings again a second later and you read, “See you then! Have a great rest of your week.” After sending a quick “You as well!” you toss your phone to the side.

You get into bed, and reflect for a moment on everything that happened since getting up that morning. You knew it’d be a wonderful day; how could it not when you got to finally meet your perfect nephew?

But to have met one of your favorite celebrities and now have a date with him? Never in a million years would you have guessed the day would end this way. You fall asleep feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

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AN: Thank you so much for reading! I hoped you liked this chapter and can't wait to share the rest!

#harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader

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