#getting ready for vacation trip currently
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I’ve missed your writing sm 😭😍
oh my goodness this is the sweetest thing a writer could see in the inbox!! <33 means lots!! c:
I’ve missed being on here! dw that ‘69-70!e drabble (will be 18+ btww 💋) is set to be uploaded by midnight/early morning! I don’t wanna keep u waiting much longer! ♡
#getting ready for vacation trip currently#so I’ve had the story scheduled to upload on its own!#have mercy on me!#if it’s somehow delayed#ask honey ୨ৎ#elvis#elvis presley#elvis fans#elvis fanfic#70s elvis#1969 elvis
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GIRLY we need more of latina actress reader! with Drew, I was thinking of her spending time with him and the fam at some summer house or sum and especially after season 3 filming and he has his saggy hair (OML) and one of his sisters prolly Brooke catches reader playing with his hair, and drew and reading dancing around the kitchen cooking breakfast in the morning!!!! and of course add anything else you would like!!! 
summer getaway
drew starkey x latina actress reader!
Your heart was really happy at the moment.
Drew’s family had kindly invited you to join them in their annual summer vacation at their summer house in North Carolina.
You would only be joining them for a week, because you were planning on visiting home in Mexico as well.
Jodi and Todd had been really nice asking you to join the family as they couldn’t imagine the trip without you.
And of course, Drew had not missed the opportunity of telling you how much you two would enjoy the little trip.
So you totally agreed.
And that’s how you two were currently enjoying the afternoon, watching the soon to be sunset on some chairs on the garden at the back of the house, while the rest of his family busied themselves inside.
Oh how you loved quiet moments like this.
You were sitting on Drew’s lap, he had one of his arms around your waist, while the other one rested on your leg.
You were hugging him, with both arms around his neck, while one of your hands played with his wispy hair at the nape of his neck, your nails scraping softly against his skin.
Drew sighed in content as he closed his eyes for a second.
“That feels good” he mumbled, leaning his head on your chest, giving you more space to work with.
You laughed softly at him.
“Yeah?” you asked softly, as you continued your movements, loving how he could absolutely melt under your touch at any moment. “I love your hair like this” you say, while running your fingers through his hair.
He had let his hair grown a little, going for a wispy kind of mullet.
And oh could he pull off any look.
You were kinda jealous.
“You love it huh?” he said teasingly as he moved back his head from your chest so he could look at you. “I’m gonna have to cut it off eventually doll” he said, as he removed his hand from your leg, so he was now holding your face.
You pouted at him.
“What if I convince you not to?” you asked playfully, leaning in to peck his lips, still playing with his hair.
He groaned into the kiss as you pulled back, smiling at him.
“You’re bad” he says, leaning in to kiss you again, before you both break apart at the sound of someone clearing their throat.
You two look back and find Brooke, Drew’s sister, peeking her head out from inside the house.
“Dinner is ready love birds!” she says smiling at both of you, just before going back inside the house.
Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, while you hide your face in the crook of Drew’s neck.
He lets out a laugh while he softly soothes your back with one of his hands.
“Oh my god I feel like a teenager that just got caught” you say into his neck.
He softly chuckles at your comment while placing a kiss on the top of your head, finding it funny and adorable how flustered you got any time his family catched any type of PDA from you together.
“Let’s get some dinner doll” he says, standing up from the chair with you in his arms.
You let out a shriek in surprise, as you wrap both your arms around his neck to support yourself.
“Drew put me down!” you say, laughing and watching him laugh at your reaction.
He shakes his head in amusement as he walks with you in his arms towards the house.
“Just enjoy the ride love” he says placing a soft kiss on your temple, as he takes you inside the house for you to have dinner with his family.
After dinner, you and Drew offered to pick up table and clean up everything. His family had worked so hard to put everything up, so it was your turn to do something.
“I’ll do the dishes” you say, walking to the sink and starting to clean them up.
Contrary to popular opinion, you loved doing dishes.
There was something so calming and relaxing about getting your hands soapy, bubbly and extra clean that just did something to you.
“I’ll clean up the table” he said, walking off before pecking your lips, leaving you smiley.
You could hear the clatter of forks and plates, and then, he was walking into the kitchen once again.
“Alexa, play lover by Taylor Swift” Drew said out loud, making you turn your head and look at him with a smile, while he gave you a playful look.
Your heart warmed as he approached you and offered you his hand.
“May I?” he said, giving you a big smile.
You could feel the butterflies going crazy in your stomach, and it made you smile even harder.
Quickly, you turned around to rinse your hands while patting them dry, only to face him as he pulled you in.
His hands moved to your waist, and you tangled yours around his neck, looking up at him with an adoring look.
“You know how to charm a girl” you say, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.
He chuckled softly as he looked down at you between his arms.
“I only care about charming you” he says, twirling you softly and catching you back, pulling you close to him. “That’s all I ever want”.
His words make your heart flutter, as you rest your head on his chest, enjoying the kitchen dancing session.
With Taylor’s songs behind you, you feel content and at peace, honestly, wherever Drew was, as long as he was with you, you were at peace.
“I love you baby” he says, swaying you both to the rhythm of the song, while he places a soft kiss at the top of your head, while his thumb slowly draws gentle circles on your waist.
You could stay like that forever.
At his words, you look up at him, moving one of your hands that played with the hair on his neck, to his cheek, grazing it softly.
“I love you more mi amor” you say, unable to hide the smile appeared on your face.
He leans down and captures your lips on a kiss that communicates everything you’re both feeling without needing words.
Unbeknownst to both of you, his family was watching, more like peaking, your little romantic moment.
And they had been getting glimpses of your love throughout the trip.
They loved to see their son in love.
In love with you.
Being loved how it should be.
Having you as part of the family.
They knew you were both lucky to have found each other.
The next morning, you were back in the kitchen.
You had offered to cook breakfast for the family, telling them how you wanted to show them a typical mexican breakfast that you knew they would all love.
Drew as always, had offered to help you, being the one who always tried all your recipes.
“Is it good?” you asked, after he tasted your green sauce for chilaquiles.
You liked cooking. You weren’t the best, but you definitely weren’t the worse.
It was enough to make your mom proud, and you could work with that.
Drew paused for a moment as he closed his eyes and moaned in pleasure.
“It’s delicious baby” he said, as he enjoyed the flavors dancing on his tongue.
You squinted your eyes at him, not truly believing his words.
“Be completely honest amor” you said, leaning your hips against the counter, looking at him attentively. “You won’t hurt my feelings if you tell me something’s missing” you admitted giving him a smile.
Drew paused for a moment, before going back and trying the sauce one more time.
He hesitated, his eyes closed, concentrating.
“Maybe a little bit of salt” he said, one eye open waiting for your reaction.
You smiled at him while playfully hitting him on the chest.
“You’re so dramatic” you said laughing, before turning to the stove and adding a bit more salt to finish everything up.
He laughed before placing his hands on your waist, and resting his chin on the crown of your head.
“And you’re amazing” he said, silently enjoying the domestic side of you two being on vacation, sharing with family or not.
You hummed at his words, resting your back on his broad chest.
“Help me serve the plates?” You said, turning around and pecking his lips softly.
Drew scrunched his nose in annoyance as you broke the kiss, looking at him with a smile.
“Let’s make them wait a little longer” he said, wrapping one of his arms around your waist pulling you in, the other one around the back of your neck capturing your lips in a kiss.
You smile between his arms.
Later that night, everyone was chilling and winding down from spending the day out on the beach.
You and Drew were laying down on the couch. You were watching a marvel movie playing on the tv, while he attempted to read a few pages of a book he hadn’t picked up once since arriving at the summer house.
He was trying really hard to stay focused on his book but he seemed to fail, because from what you could see from your position on top of him laying your head on his chest, around 10 minutes had passed and he hadn’t flipped his book page.
You giggled softly as he tore his eyes away from the tv to look down at you.
“What’s so funny?” He smiles sheepishly at you, holding his book with one hand.
You lifted your head, resting your chin on his chest to be able to meet his eyes.
“You’re getting distracted” you say smiling at him. “Just give up already and enjoy the movie amor”.
He hesitates for a moment, looking between the tv, his book, and you.
He sighs, shaking his head and smiling.
“I’m weak” he says closing his book and leaving it next to him on the couch.
You giggle softly before going back to resting your head on his chest and watching the movie, wrapping your arms around his waist.
“Everybody’s weak when Avengers Endgame is playing” you say, getting immediately lost in the film again.
Drew chuckles softly as one of his hands finds its way to your back, drawing circles, lulling you to sleep. While the other, tangled itself in your hair, scratching your scalp tenderly.
Your eyes began to flutter at his gentle touches.
The weight of being out on the beach all day, mixed with Drew’s fingers against your skin, were making it harder for you to stay awake.
Your eyes were fighting to stay open and continue watching the movie, because no matter how many times you watched it, you loved it every time.
But next thing you knew, you had fallen asleep over Drew.
He didn’t realize when exactly you had fallen asleep.
But when he looked down at you to watch your reaction over Black Widow’s death, he smiled at you being completely asleep and relaxed.
His heart fluttered at the adorable sight before him.
He had to capture it.
So he reached for his phone and stopped breathing for a second to get a perfect picture of you mid dream.
“What are you guys-“ Logan, Drew’s brother, came into the living room and paused mid sentence as Drew sent him a death glare signaling for him to shut up.
Logan lifted his arms in sign of peace, as he slowly walked into the room, silently sitting on the individual couch, immediately getting into the movie.
You were still deeply asleep.
An earthquake could hit and you probably wouldn’t notice.
So Drew threw his phone somewhere next to him, and went back to watching the movie and cradling you between his arms.
He could stay like that forever and he would be the happiest man on earth.
*
thank you so much for your request! I absolutely adored it and had so much fun writing it<3 sorry if it takes me a minute to post, sometimes I’m a bit of a slow writer
I actually loved the concept so much I’m planning on making a moodboard for this soooo stay tuned
I’m so happy to see people enjoying the latina actress reader universe as much as I do, thank you all so much!
as always, if any of y’all wanna read, ask or see something in particular from latina actress reader let me know<3
#drew starkey#drew starkey blurb#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x you#rafe cameron#outer banks#obx fanfiction#obx fic#rafe cameron imagine#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe obx#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron x you#obx imagine#obx x reader#obx#outerbanks#obx3#latina actress reader
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Envy and Venom - Part 3
Heiress!Natasha Romanoff x CEO!Beefy!Fem!Reader
18+ only, read at your own risk
Summary: You are the notorious playboy who just inherited one of the biggest tech companies in the world. Your first move? Sleeping with the heiress of your rival company.
Word count: 4990
AN: Y'all are getting fed with this one. Have fun. :)
Click here for Part 2!
Thanks to @mostlymarvelsstuff for helping with some Russian translations lol.
DAY 34
“Do you have everything ready? Your presentation, your notes?” your dad asks.
“Yes, yes,” you tell him for what feels like the thousandth time.
“This is where the comeback starts,” your dad says, and sometimes you wish he would just claim back his title. You were sick and tired of his coaching, even if you needed it a little bit. But if Envy Industries had gotten into this mess because of you, then you were the only person who could get them out of it. “I know I can’t be there in person–”
“I know, I know,” you dismiss. You were well aware of his vacation plans to the Maldives with his new girlfriend. Besides Envy, it was the only thing he wanted to talk about nowadays. But you still didn’t even know her name, and were certain he’d find a new one before the end of his trip.
“Tony will be there with you, right? He’ll keep you on track,” your dad continues, inching into sensitive territory now. Even though he denied it every time you confronted him, you knew he was always worried about you stepping into the CEO role because you were a woman. Hearing the doubts from the public and the competition hardly bothered you, but from your own father, it was like a punch to the face. Especially when you were not exactly proving him wrong given how things had played out since your first day.
“Who cares if Tony is there or not?” you snap, losing your patience. “He’s not the one giving the presentation. He’ll just be standing behind the curtain, stealing all the free merch, and–”
“Okay, that’s enough,” your dad cuts you off. “I want you to call me again tomorrow. We’ll run over your presentation again–”
“I’ll think about it.” You slam the handset on the receiver, a satisfying motion that could not be accomplished with modern telephonic devices. You try not to give the upcoming presentation any more thought–it was already stressing you out enough. Maybe an hour in the gym would take your mind off things.
Your decision made, you step away from your desk to your private walk-in closet, rifling through the selection of workout clothes hanging there. All of them were custom-cut to your exact body dimensions to ensure the best fit and look. Although you were no professional athlete, you treated yourself as if you were one (and you certainly looked the part).
But right now, you couldn’t care less what you looked like or what you were wearing as you grabbed the first set of clothes you could reach, slipping them on and grabbing your Louis Vuitton gym bag, monogrammed with your initials. You lightly jog out of your office, moving fast enough that people will think you’re in a rush and not stop you. The gym is on the tenth floor of the building, and because it’s just after lunch, most people are back at their desks. But you set your own schedule, so you’re happy to find that it isn’t too crowded and you quickly get warmed up before you start lifting.
In between sets, you check your phone, a bad habit that doesn’t exist when you’re with your training coach, but he’s not around to scold you, so you can do as you please. In the tracking app, Natasha’s red dot blinks in the Upper West Side of Manhattan, hardly three miles away from your current location in Envy Industries.
She was hanging out at Black Widow Corporation headquarters, just where you expected her to be. She had an unsurprisingly predictable schedule, splitting her time just between work and home, which you discovered was in an apartment just a few blocks down the street from yours. You wonder if she lived on her own or with her father, who was likely paying for her housing either way.
Natasha was not quite the self-made woman that you were. Her work was significantly more behind the scenes, which was one reason why you had never heard of her before. Alexei Shostakov was the only name you associated with Black Widow Corp. But you had done your own digging on her and her family the past few days. There was frustratingly little about Natasha and you were ready to hire a private investigator due to your lack of results.
All you had learned was that she had graduated magna cum laude from Virginia Tech with a degree in economics, where she also held a brief internship at the university’s infamous Gamma Lab before it was shut down after the sudden death of its lead researcher. You assumed she had gone immediately to work for Black Widow Corp after her graduation; there was no other work history for her anywhere. No social media, no public interviews. This woman fascinated you more and more.
After a final set of deadlifts, you re-rack all the weights because you’re not that much of a heathen and check your phone again. Natasha is no longer at Black Widow Corp, her red dot moving steadily through 86th Street that cut through Central Park. Your heart rate jumps, and not because of your workout. You sit down on a bench to steady yourself, watching as the red dot continues through Central Park. When she turns right on Park Avenue, you know exactly where she’s heading.
Hopefully you could intercept her first.
***********************************************************************
“Where are you going?”
Natasha curses under her breath as she turns around to see Yelena standing in the lobby, her arms crossed over her chest like a scorned mother catching her child sneaking out of the house.
“What?” Natasha rounds on her sister, annoyed that she’s been watching her like a hawk.
“The board of directors meeting starts in seven minutes,” Yelena says, and Natasha curses under her breath because she forgot all about that.
“Dad can handle it without me,” Natasha replies, eager to get the heat off of her as soon as she can.
“They’ll be talking about CES,” Yelena reminds her, referencing the important annual show where the biggest tech companies came together in Vegas to reveal their newest inventions and products.
“You’re not going to CES,” Natasha points out, surprised her sister even knows its proper name. Since the company was going to fall on her shoulders once their father stepped down, Natasha had spent almost the entirety of her adult life learning, training, and breathing business and technology. Yelena had been able to pursue her own hopes and dreams, starting in the private security field until she had enough experience (and enough of Dad’s money) to start her own company. She was happy and thriving, something Natasha was endlessly jealous of.
Yelena had never experienced the pressure of managing billions of dollars in and out the door. She didn’t know what it was like to fight off every insecure man who couldn’t bear to do a business deal with a woman. She hadn’t spent hundreds of hours trying to learn coding languages and complicated mathematics and equations on her own. Yelena didn’t understand what Natasha had spared her from, and Natasha was afraid she would never be grateful for it.
“Yes, but you’re going to CES,” Yelena says.
“You’re not my babysitter,” Natasha snaps, turning away and marching towards the door.
“You’re going to see her again, aren’t you?”
“What?” Natasha stops. “Who the hell are you talking about?”
“That CEO you’re in love with.”
“Excuse me?” But Natasha’s face is flaming red as she struts over to confront her sister. “I am not in love with anyone. You know that.”
“You seem to be spending an awful lot of time with that CEO.”
“No, I’m not.”
Yelena smirks. “I own a private security company, sestra. You don’t think I know my own sister’s whereabouts and who she’s with?”
Natasha’s heart sinks, but she tries not to let it show. “Why can’t you ever just mind your own fucking business?” she growls, immediately regretting the harshness of her words when she sees her sister’s face fall. But she’s too proud to take it back.
“I don’t think it’s safe if you keep seeing her,” Yelena says. “And you don’t know what it could do for the company–”
“Why do you care about the company so much all of a sudden?” Natasha counters. “Dad’s not giving it to you when he steps down.”
“I don’t want it,” Yelena replies, although she looks hurt. “But to be quite honest, I don’t like what it’s turning you into.”
“Which is what?”
“This!” Yelena waves her arms at Natasha frantically. “It’s always ‘Black Widow this, Black Widow that.’ You don’t have any hobbies anymore. You never eat dinner with the rest of the family. You don’t go out unless it’s to see that CEO–”
Natasha interrupts her with a huff. “You wouldn’t understand, Yelena,” she says, trying a different approach and maintaining complete calm. “You can just stay holed up in your one-windowed office to spy on people and let the real adults go out in the real world and handle real shit.” With that, she spins on her heel and storms out of the building.
***********************************************************************
“Why are you into shooting all of a sudden? Have you ever even held a gun before?” Tony asks, staring at you with a dropped jaw.
You shrug. “I need some new hobbies,” you lie.
“You’re not going to shoot someone with it, are you?” he half-jokes, his chuckle quickly dying up when you don’t laugh with him.
“No, of course not,” you mumble unconvincingly.
“Okay, well, when do you need the gun by?” he asks.
“How fast does Bucky work?”
Tony shrugs. “If I call him now, he can have one to me by the end of the day.”
“Okay.” The sooner the better, because it gave you less time to back out of your plan. “That works.”
“So, are we going big-game hunting in Africa this summer?” Tony asks, giving you a sharp nudge before starting his car.
“Maybe, maybe…” But you have a different target in mind.
The gun is surprisingly heavy, oily, and unfamiliar in your palm. Bucky had gone over the four “rules” of gun handling, which shocked you that he even knew:
Treat every gun like it was loaded
Don’t point it at something you aren’t willing to shoot.
Keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot.
Be mindful of your target and what’s around it.
He had given you a full box of ammo for “good luck” too, before jumping back into his car and driving away faster than you could read his license plate.
Currently, you sit in the darkness of your apartment, weighing the gun in your hand. Your heart is beating so hard against your ribcage you swear you can hear it.
You check your phone. Natasha’s just parked her car in the parking garage. It should only take her a few minutes to ride the elevator up. You hadn’t even bothered to change out of your workout clothes, worried that she would arrive at your apartment before you did, but you had just barely made it on time.
Her red dot blinks in place on your screen. She’s in the elevator.
Your eyes flit to the front door, the gun feeling even heavier in your hand.
The seconds drag on.
You hold your breath for as long as you can between inhalations, heart pounding, ears straining for any sound of movement outside your apartment door.
Beep, beep.
A key card–yours–registers at the door lock. The handle pushes down from the outside and you snap to attention.
Don’t miss, you tell yourself.
The door parts open, almost hesitantly, like your uninvited intruder is suddenly unsure of themselves. In the darkness, you see a figure slip through the door and close it behind her. Her body shape gives her away immediately. The thick thighs in black jeans, the curve of her hips leading up to her narrow waist, the fullness of her bosom stretching out the tight shirt she’s wearing.
When Natasha steps into the light, she freezes when she sees you sitting at the kitchen table, gun cocked in her direction.
“It’s about time you showed up,” you greet. “Building security didn’t question you when you used my key card to get in?”
“Clearly not,” Natasha says, her stance tense and wary.
“Come sit down. We should talk,” you invite, gesturing with the gun and breaking Bucky’s rule number one. Natasha stiffly walks towards you, her face an impassive shadow. You’ve never seen her genuinely scared before and it delights you that for once, you have the upper hand on her. You kick out a chair and she sits next to you.
“Didn’t expect this, did you?” you ask. “Probably thought you could just waltz right in here and steal more of my shit?”
“Y/N–”
“Shut the fuck up.” You’re tired of listening to her excuses. You rest the gun on the table. “Is Black Widow going to CES?”
“Yes,” she says. “Like we do every year–”
“Well, there’s going to be some changes this year,” you interrupt. “Get your phone out. Call your dad. Black Widow Corp is going to be a no-show this year.”
Natasha balks. “That…That won’t be possible.”
You pick the gun back up and point it at her, breaking rule number two. “Then make it possible.”
“You won’t shoot me.”
“You don’t think this is real?” You point the gun at the table. Rule number three. You pull the trigger. Rule number four. The gun bucks in your hand, the blast reverberating around your apartment with enough power to rattle your teeth. Natasha flinches even though you hadn’t aimed anywhere near her. “No one can hear us,” you say with a chuckle. “I had the apartment soundproofed years ago to stop the neighbors from complaining.”
She stares at the gun.
“Take your phone out now. And call your dad.” You hope you don’t have to ask again.
With shaking hands, she finally obeys, placing her phone on the table. “Put it on speakerphone,” you demand. Natasha presses a few buttons and you hear the dial-up tone.
“Privet, doch',” Alexei booms.
“English,” you hiss.
“Hi, Dad,” Natasha says, side-eyeing you uncertainly. “We, uh…We need to talk about CES.”
“Good, I just got out of the meeting with the board–”
“Black Widow can’t show up this year.”
Alexei’s surprise is palpable. “What, Natasha? What are you talking about?”
“We need to call off our appearance,” she says, her voice shaking. “Just for this year. We’ll go again next year like we normally do–”
“What’s wrong with this year?” Alexei asks.
Natasha looks at you, her eyes begging. You shake the gun to remind her you’re serious. “I…uh…I don’t think our tech is ready for the show,” she says. “You know how disastrous it can be if we unveil something that isn’t completely ready.”
“But we’ve been working on Project Transformer for months, Natasha. It’s plenty ready–”
“No. Dad, please.” She grits her teeth. “I was looking through the code last night with the engineers. There’s a bug in the programming. It’s going to take at least a few weeks to smooth out. We can’t debut right now, Dad.”
Alexei curses in Russian. “Shit. The board really liked our presentation.”
“I know.”
“I wish you would have told me earlier.”
“I know,” Natasha repeats. “But we only just discovered it this week.”
There is more silence, punctuated by Russian grumblings from Alexei. “Okay, okay. I’ll make a few calls. Too bad we’ll be losing out on our reservation fee too.”
“It’s a small price to pay.” Natasha’s eyes dart to you again. “Sorry for all the trouble, Dad.”
“Where are you?” Alexei asks. “We missed you at the meeting.”
“I’m out.”
“Will you come to dinner tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Good, good. Proshchay, dorogaya.”
“Bye, Dad.” Alexei hangs up first.
You slowly clap your hands. “Good girl. Was that so hard?” Your chest swells with pride at your achievement. Maybe now she would have more respect for you. You know she only saw you as a piece of meat. But you were much, much more than that.
“Fuck you,” Natasha spits.
“Oh, are we still doing that?” You put the gun down on the table, this time facing it away from her. You part your legs slightly, inviting her between them. Natasha glares at you with emerald daggered eyes. “Don’t be shy, baby,” you say, your voice deepening. “I got what I wanted today. It’s only fair you don’t leave here empty-handed too.”
Natasha shoots up and marches over to you. For a second, you think she’s going to hit you, but instead she straddles your lap and kisses you so hard you’re sure she’s bruised your lips. The ferocity is both frightening and arousing as she tears off your workout shirt and shorts. She palms at your left breast roughly, sinking her nails into your abs and dragging them down to your belly button. You groan into her mouth when she bites your bottom lip. She’s never been this aggressive with you before, but you know she’s taking out her frustration on you.
And you absolutely love it.
“Now that I’m done fucking with your company, you want me to fuck you until you can’t walk?” you whisper, shoving your bare thigh between her legs. The friction from her jeans burns your skin, but you hardly register the pain.
“You’ll have to carry me out,” Natasha says, trailing her fingers down the vein on your bicep.
“Deal.” You kiss her again, slipping your muscular arms under her thighs and standing up with her. You carry her to your bed, leaving her to undress while you grab your strap from its drawer and slip it over your legs. When you turn back, she’s shimmying off her lacy black panties and the feral urge to keep your promise overrides all your senses.
You pick her back up and she hooks her legs around your waist, her arms circling your neck. She presses her naked chest against yours, both of you moaning in unison when your nipples brush together. You walk with her until Natasha’s back bumps into the wall, shifting her weight off your arms to the wall. You maneuver your right hand to grab onto your strap, lining it up with Natasha’s center.
“Are you ready for me?” you ask, rubbing the tip of your cock over her soaking entrance. Natasha’s whines at your teasing, her fingers tangling in your hair and jerking at your roots painfully.
“Fucking ruin me,” she begs.
You slam your hips forward, burying your entire cock in her in one move. Natasha screams, tearing her nails down your back. Your big hands grip onto her waist to hold her in place as you thrust into her tight heat, your abs flexing and tensing. Natasha’s body rolls with yours, her head falling back against the wall, exposing the perfect column of her neck to you. You lean forward to decorate it with your marks, so every time she undresses for the next week, she’ll be reminded of you.
The only item of “clothing” she still wears is a thin silver necklace with a rectangular charm hanging from the chain. It bounces in the hollow of her throat every time you thrust into her.
“Y/N, oh, Y/N,” Natasha chants, music to your ears as you keep your relentless pace. Your thighs, already spent from your gym session, are absolutely on fire now, so you need her to finish quickly before you drop her. You shift the angle of your hips, bumping the top of your cock against her clit with every stroke. Natasha squirms and moans, trying to find a rhythm with you, but she’s so close she can’t match you at all.
“Tell me when you’re gonna cum, baby,” you pant.
“Soon,” she moans. “Go harder. Don’t stop.”
You’re afraid you’re going to break her with how hard you’re thrusting into her. But finally, her body tenses in your hands and you know she’s finished all over your cock. You’re grateful to slow your thrusts as she comes down from her high, your entire body sweaty and buzzing with adrenaline. You slip your arms under her quivering thighs and stumble back to the bed, collapsing onto it with your legs hanging off the edge, Natasha panting on top of you.
You’re not sure who’s more exhausted, you or her. You lay there unmoving, trying to catch your breath, which Natasha does before you. She sits up, slowly pulling your cock out of her and crawling up your body to kiss you messily. Her tongue slips into your mouth, but you’re too tired to return her fervor very much.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Am I too much for you?” she teases, cupping your chest and pinching your nipples.
“No, just give me a minute,” you grumble. It was rare to meet someone with stamina like hers. And as much as you prided yourself on yours, you feel like you may have met your match with Natasha Romanoff. Your arms and chest are covered in her scratch marks, and your back still stings a little. Natasha traces the scratches gently.
“Mine,” she murmurs.
“Hmm?” you grunt, not sure if you heard her correctly.
She props herself up on your chest to look at you. “I can give you a minute,” she purrs, her voice becoming husky and seductive. Natasha slides down your body, resting her knees on the floor and tugging the harness of your strap down your legs. You can hardly lift your hips high enough off the bed to help her, embarrassed by how tired you are. Natasha grabs your calves to lift your feet up one at a time to remove the harness and throw it to the side. She rubs her hand across your defined abdomen, stoking the fire in your belly again.
“Don’t move, baby,” she says. “I’ll take care of you.”
“Huh?” You lift your head high enough to see Natasha’s head between your legs, her mouth lowering onto you. It’s like a lightning bolt of pleasure that shoots through your core and you moan loudly in appreciation. Natasha makes eye contact with you as she slips her tongue into you, smiling as you pant and squirm.
“Oh, God. Fuck me,” you gasp, dropping your head back on the bed. Your hands claw at the sheets as her tongue explores your walls. Natasha pushes apart your muscular thighs to make more room for her, pushing so deep into you her nose bumps against you. Your chest heaves as you struggle to breathe evenly, arching your lower back off the bed in a silent plea for more.
Natasha eats you out like she’d been starving for a week, her tongue alternating between swirling around your throbbing clit and pushing through your clenching walls.
You finally find the strength to lift your right leg, twisting it sideways at the knee and hooking it around the back of Natasha’s head, pressing your calf against her scalp and dragging her closer. You reach down with your hand to tangle it in Natasha’s flaming red hair, pushing her down so she isn’t tempted to pull away right when you reach the edge of release.
“Nat,” you whine. “Please, baby. You’re gonna make me cum.”
Natasha hums against you, the vibrations finally causing you to lose control. Your entire body goes limp as Natasha cleans up all the slick between your legs, then climbs back up to rest on you like you’re her personal pillow.
“Gimme a kiss,” you mumble and Natasha presses her lips to yours obediently. She tucks her head in the crook of your collarbone and you stroke her hair absently. “If I fall asleep, are you gonna leave again before I wake up?” you ask, your voice sounding small.
“Only if you want me to,” Natasha murmurs.
“I know I’m supposed to hate you, but I don’t know if I can,” you admit.
“Then don’t,” Natasha says. “Because I was thinking about it too, and…I think we should go public.”
“Public? Like us being…” You can’t even finish your own sentence.
“Mhmm.” Natasha nods against your chest.
“You can’t be fucking serious,” you scoff.
“No, I’m fucking you.”
“And you’re done. Right?” Your eyebrows scrunch together at the dual meaning of your words. Natasha doesn’t say anything. “At the very least, you owe me fifteen-billion-dollars before we can go public about anything,” you say, referencing the amount your company lost in the last month when Black Widow Corp pulled the rug out from under your feet.
“Done.” Natasha searches around your bed for her phone. “What’s your bank account number?”
“What are you doing? Seriously.” You’re a little lost now.
“Well, our dads spent all their time fighting each other,” she says.
“Not fucking?” you joke.
“I can’t confirm that,” she says with a smirk. “But I was thinking about it. And I know Envy hasn’t been doing so well lately–”
“Because you sabotaged our contracts and stole our ideas,” you remind her.
Again, Natasha does not confirm nor deny this fact. “But what if instead of competing, we…helped each other out?”
“Like a collaboration?” you ask. Your father had specifically warned you against any kind of “collaboration” work with another company. You weren’t running a YouTube channel. You had a multibillion-dollar business. It was your responsibility to look out for the well-being of your company and your company only, damn philanthropic endeavors, personal favors, and relationships.
“We can work something out,” Natasha insists.
“Did you go through all of this just to ask me that?” you ask.
“No.” Now, Natasha looks away from you. “I mean, at first, yes. I thought you would just be a hot one-night stand. And yes, you were–” You raise an eyebrow. “–But you’re also a lot more than that.” Validation burns through your veins to hear this. “You’re smart, you know the tech, and you know how to run a business. And you’re the hottest CEO in the country and the best person who’s ever taken me to bed,” Natasha says. You think you’re going to combust at the praise. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop thinking about us. And what we could accomplish together.”
It takes a few seconds to let her words process. “I don’t know how this could work,” you say, the logical side of you taking over for once. “We’re not regular people, Nat. The future of this country is literally in our hands. The public watches our every move and criticizes every decision we make. People like us need whole PR teams to manage their relationships.”
“Fuck the PR teams,” Natasha says. “If we like each other, then why can’t we be together?”
It had been years since you had publicly been in a relationship with someone. After all, it was so much simpler to cycle through partners and not have to worry about commitment or any long-term decisions. But deep down, you were cripplingly lonely and terrified you wouldn’t be able to find someone who would settle with you.
Because truth be told, your lifestyle was not for many. Most people couldn’t handle the pressure you were subjected to every day. The never-ending torrents of judgment. The borderline-criminal way you were stalked by reporters and paparazzi. The unreal expectations you were held to by people you’d never even met.
But out of all the people you had ever been with, Natasha Romanoff was the one with the best chance of understanding all that. She knew what she was getting herself into, because your life would be her reality the day her father passed on the company. Of course it wouldn’t hurt her to get some practice beforehand.
“I want you to be mine,” Natasha says suddenly. She reaches up to her neck, her fingers brushing the hickeys you left there, before unclipping the silver necklace. She puts it around yours, flipping the charm around so you can see that it reads “Natasha.”
“Baby…” You didn’t even care what your dad’s reaction to hearing the news would be. How would the public react? The consumers? The shareholders? At your level, it was unavoidable crossing the line between professional and personal interests. People would either cheer you on or vow to never use another Envy product again.
But Envy had been tanking ever since you took the helm. Maybe this was what you needed to bounce back…courtesy of the same woman who ruined you in the first place. The math seemed to add up–Natasha would cancel out herself, wouldn’t she?
Natasha interlaces her fingers with yours, distracting your thinking. “We could be the most powerful couple in the tech industry. In the world,” she says. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?”
“Yes,” you sigh, although that’s not really the truth. There was one thing you wanted more than power, money, and fame.
“Then don’t be afraid, sweetheart.” She squeezes your fingers. “With me, you’ll have everything you want and more.”
A rush of emotions suddenly overwhelms you–fear, annoyance, love, envy, and venom. You would kick yourself in the head if you missed out on the chance to be with Natasha, but you also weren’t entirely convinced this was the right move.
“Y/N.” The way she says your voice is desperate and pleading, like she too can’t be without you.
“Okay.” You make up your mind in an instant. “Okay, baby. Let’s do it.”
Natasha beams, snuggling closer to you. The two of you say nothing further, and her steady breathing quickly lulls you to sleep. Natasha holds onto you even as she feels your body relax under her. She turns her head to look at the gun you left on the table, wondering what it would feel like in her hand, to hold against your head.
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AN: These two are for real going to be the death of me. 😩
Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰
#natasha romanoff#black widow#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x female reader
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series masterlist | last part — next part
pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader
word count: 5.3k words
warnings: explicit language, a bunch of other good things that i don’t wanna say because i don’t want to completely spoil everything<333
summary: an unexpected conversation between you and steve leads to a long overdue realization
quick a/n: a bit nervous to post this one lol but i hope yall enjoy🫶🏾
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | ❝𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒘𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕❞
Summer 2017
“I’m a little upset that I didn’t get the grand hometown tour.”
“You mean the tour of the old library that I spent probably too much time at back in high school, and the park that I also really liked back in high school, but it’s currently under construction?”
Eddie gave you an amused smile. “Yes, exactly that.”
“Next time,” You told him, completely joking with your words, but you wouldn’t have been surprised if he actually held you to them the next time he was here. But, you honestly didn’t think that there’d be another moment when he was in your hometown; this moment in itself felt almost like a fluke.
After a five week long road trip with Eddie, you still weren’t ready to be home— you dreaded it, actually— but things had started getting too expensive and Eddie’s van was in dire need of a break.
You did most of the driving to your hometown because you knew that Eddie would have to do all of the driving alone back to his own home. And then he stayed with you for the night at your dad’s house. You didn’t even have to do any sort of introduction between the two because your dad was off on a vacation with his new girlfriend.
Now it was the morning and you two lingered by Eddie’s van, prolonging the conversation because the next time you’d see each other would be a little over four weeks— when you moved into your apartment with Robin, Vickie, and Talia, and he moved in with two people that he found at the last second; luckily, your respective buildings weren’t far from each other, so it wouldn’t feel impossible to see each other.
You pulled Eddie in for a hug, a long one that felt so equivalent to a goodbye and it actually managed to sadden you a bit because of how good the last five weeks had been and it sucked that it was all over now.
When you pulled back, you gave him a smile. “See you in four weeks, Edward.”
He laughed a little. “See ya.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
Spring Semester 2018
Maybe things should’ve felt at least a little weird or awkward between you and Steve in this moment in the library— it had been a month since the last time you two talked— but it didn’t. At all.
It was all so surprisingly easy. The small talk wasn’t even unbearable; you liked hearing about the mundane things he’d been up to for the past month and you didn’t mind sharing your own stories about classes you’d come to hate and how you didn’t feel all too prepared for finals because you had more essays to do than actual tests. And then you two moved into random bits of nothing, asking the first thing you could think of or filling the silence with storytimes or quick anecdotes, and whispering the entire time so that you didn’t disturb everyone else in the library right then.
You two probably should’ve moved somewhere else, but it felt as if the entire moment would’ve been broken if you did so. Logical thinking would’ve sunk in on your side of things and you would’ve realized that all of this was a bad idea and you should’ve left, or perhaps never sat down across from him on this carpeted floor in the first place.
“Did you decide what you’re going to do with your summer of freedom?” You asked him instead of leaving or even thinking about doing so. You were mainly joking with your question and just trying to think of something to say, but still, you were a little curious.
“I think I’m gonna do the Europe thing. Go alone,” He told you. “It’s loosely planned right now, but I’ll fully figure it out after finals.”
“Ooh, that’s very Eat, Pray, Love of you,” You joked.
He laughed a bit. “Thanks, I think?”
“I’ve actually never seen that movie before, but from what I think I know of it, it felt fitting to mention it.”
“Do you know what you’re gonna do for the summer?”
“Nothing exciting, really,” You answered with a quick shrug. “I think I’m just gonna stay around here. Robin and Vickie are doing some summer classes, and even though I’m not taking any, staying in the apartment for the summer sounds much better than going home the entire time.”
Steve nodded. “With what you’ve said about your parents, that makes sense.”
“Exactly,” You nodded back. “So, if you get bored of Europe— which I highly doubt, but still— please feel free to come to any of our apartment movie nights and sleep on our couch at any point during the summer.”
You realized way too late what exactly your words implied— that you two were friends, that this moment in the library wasn’t and shouldn’t be a one-off thing. And your brain was quickly rushing you to fix what you said. “Or, I guess, that wouldn’t really make sense since we’re not friends or whatever…”
You could recognize that it was a pretty shitty attempt at backtracking, but all Steve needed to do was simply agree and everything would be fine; or, at least, what you’d convinced yourself was considered as “fine.”
“That ‘going our separate ways’ rule was so dumb,” Steve said instead of agreeing with your previous statement. “We should be friends.”
He was completely right, the rule was dumb. But still, even in this entirely comfortable moment, you knew that you couldn’t say what he wanted to hear.
“I’ve missed this,” He continued on before you could say anything in response. He lightly bumped his knee with yours. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” You blurted it out before you realized what you were even saying, and you didn’t know how true it was until those four simple words were out in the open and sitting in the quiet air between you and Steve.
They abruptly made you inwardly admit everything else that you’d been avoiding and refusing to accept— the almost too obvious reason why you couldn’t be friends with him and why you had refused to break the rule this entire past month.
You’d never be able to be just friends with him. You’d start feeling something more and head down an all too familiar path, another Eddie situation that you weren’t sure if you’d be able to take and not have it break you this time around. Falling for a friend who saw you as nothing more than solely as a friend already sucked once, and you couldn’t imagine letting history repeat itself.
That was why you couldn’t try to do it; you couldn’t try to be normal and keep things as they were between you and Steve. If you two hadn’t gone your “separate ways,” you were certain that you would’ve ended up liking him, inadvertently feeling more for him than what you wanted to.
However, you were realizing now that the joke was actually on you because it still happened anyway.
You liked him a lot. And maybe some part of you always did. But, you knew that you’d never be able to do anything about it.
You were right on one thing, though— this entire moment was a bad idea.
Before you could come up with some random excuse to leave, the sound of Steve’s phone vibrating next to him saved you instead. He grabbed it, looking down at whatever message he just got and then back at you.
“I gotta go. I’m late for this study group thing,” He said. “But, I'm not gonna be an idiot right now and once again say that we should go our separate ways. It’s set in stone now— we’re friends.”
“Okay,” You nodded, not meaning in the slightest.
“You should come over tomorrow. We can watch that one Lindsay Lohan movie that you like and I promise I won’t complain about it.”
“It’s called Freaky Friday. And yeah, okay, that sounds good.”
Right then it was easier to lie than to refuse his statement and make up a different lie about why you couldn’t hang out with him, why you couldn’t ever hang out with him.
Steve gave you one final smile before he stood up. You watched him head down the aisle and then turn the corner before you let yourself lean back against the bookshelf and shut your eyes with a sigh.
Now that you finally admitted to yourself how you felt for him, it was as if the dam broke and all you could think about was how real the entirety of the fake dating thing had been for you— during the power outage where you actually got to know him, during that night where you two spent Valentine’s together at that arcade and pizza place, during everything that happened in Mexico. It was suddenly so obvious, and you were also reminded of that moment during the delayed flight when the realization first hit you.
How different would things be if you had actually accepted it back then? You honestly couldn’t imagine.
Another long sigh fell from your lips as you pulled your legs out of the aisle and crossed them under you.
You really didn’t want to like Steve, and a part of you wanted to try and convince yourself that it wasn’t true; just like you’d done before. But, this time around was so much different. The feelings already felt so settled and certain; you couldn’t even push them away.
And that only made things feel worse because avoidance was your main coping mechanism. So if you couldn’t push away and forget your feelings for Steve, what the hell were you going to do instead?
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
It was hours upon hours full of contradictory thoughts. One part of you was telling you to be honest and the other was saying the exact opposite, and at first, you had no idea which side to listen to. You wanted to take the easy way out, but there was something about that that didn't sit right with you. Still, though, you considered it.
More time slowly passed, your head in a constant push and pull, and then it was nearing midnight when you decided to call Steve. It was an impulsive decision that, once you were settled on it, surprisingly felt like the right one.
You sat up in your bed and grabbed your phone off of your nightstand. You could hear the faint sounds of Talia doing something in the kitchen through your shut door, but you knew that it wasn’t her that was keeping you awake since you got in bed twenty minutes ago. Instead, it was your scattered thoughts and confused mind, both of which somehow suddenly felt a thousand percent certain about one thing, which should’ve felt comforting but it actually felt like the opposite.
You pressed call on Steve’s contact name before you could talk yourself out of it.
“Hey,” His voice sounded sleepy when he answered after the third ring, which let you know that you’d woken him up. A part of you felt bad, and you wanted to hang up after saying the quickest “Sorry” to him, but then you remembered why you were calling.
“I can’t be friends with you,” You blurted it out, getting straight to the point because you couldn’t think of a different way to say it.
“Oh…” He sounded confused, and rightfully so, you could recognize that this was probably the weirdest wake-up call ever. “Oh, okay.”
You could’ve simply ended it there and let the phone call be done with, no further explanation or anything so that you could save yourself from potential embarrassment. However, the whole Eddie situation taught you to be honest about how you’re feeling, and in this moment you suddenly felt so settled on doing so.
“At least, I can't try to be your friend without telling you something first, I think,” You told him. “And I’m sorry, I know this probably sounds so random, but I can’t sleep because all I’ve been doing for the past few hours is thinking about this, so I think I just need to be honest right now.”
You paused for a second, taking the quickest breath before speaking. “When we started the fake dating thing, we were pretty much strangers, and as it continued I thought that what we ended up forming was solely just some sort of unexpected friendship. And then when we were ending things, I convinced myself that what we had was actually absolutely nothing and we were just two people helping each other out. But then today at the library I realized that it really wasn’t fake for me, and it wasn’t just a friendship either. It’s so much more than that for me. I like you, Steve.”
Out of everything you had just said, those last four words were definitely the hardest. It felt simultaneously good and bad. So honest that your initial instinct was telling you to take it back, but as the statement settled in the air, you felt entirely okay about it and it made it feel easier to continue talking.
“And I know that it's probably not the same for you because you don’t do relationships and that was the whole point of the fake dating thing for you. I know that. And that's why I refused to accept these feelings or even admit them to myself in the first place.” You let your head fall back against your pillow and you squeezed your eyes shut as you forced yourself to keep going. “So I know that you’re probably gonna say that you don’t feel the same way and that’s okay; or it’ll eventually be okay, I guess, because rejection does suck. But this whole Eddie thing made me realize that maybe I should just be honest about my feelings, so this is me doing that…” You trailed off and then softly said, “Okay, sorry, I’m done talking now.”
Steve was quiet for a bit— it was actually a lot more than just a bit. It was so long that it made you think that he hung up or the call somehow ended, but then he was saying something.
“You should come to Europe with me this summer.”
That was not at all the response you were expecting to hear at that moment, and you had no idea what that response meant. Was it just a nice way of rejecting you or did he maybe feel the same way?
“What?”
“I’m sorry,” He said and somehow you could almost hear him shaking his head at himself. “I’m not used to doing this anymore.”
There was something about the way he said his statement that made you think that he was rejecting you, or at least trying to. And because of that, you quickly tried to make everything fine and okay and normal. “It’s, um... It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. Things will be okay with us. We can still be, uh, friends or whatever.”
“No, no that’s not what I meant,” He told you, and you could feel your heart fill with something that resembled hope. “I do. I do feel the same way. None of it was fake for me either, and it didn’t take me that long after Mexico and the rest of spring break to finally realize that. The night we “broke up” was actually pretty hard, and it also felt kind of wrong, if that makes sense. I tried to forget about it, though, because of the Eddie part of all of this and what we both agreed on at the beginning of everything.”
“When I finally accepted it today, I tried to push it all away too,” You said. “It was really hard to do, though— literally impossible, actually. Hence why I woke you up and had to tell you all of this in the middle of the night.”
“I get it. I’m just way too likable.”
“Shut up,” You said, but you were smiling.
“It’s the same for you too, though. You’re also really likable. I like you a lot,” Steve told you, and his words sounded so certain and honest that it made your heart do a weird fluttery thing that also wiped your brain of the ability to form any sort of coherent sentence. He then let out the quickest breath of a laugh. “It feels so weird doing this over the phone.”
You nodded even though he couldn’t see you and your next words came out with no hesitation. “You should come over.”
He was quiet just for a second before he said, “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” You answered, voice just as soft and quiet as his.
“Okay,” He said, and you could practically hear him nodding.
“Okay, cool,” You responded, trying to be normal and chill about everything, even though your heart felt as if it was about to burst out of your chest in nervous but excited anticipation of seeing him again and talking about everything in person. “See you soon then.”
When the call ended, you simply didn’t do anything for a moment. The same happy smile was on your face and you couldn’t seem to wipe it away, and you honestly didn’t even want to.
And then you were abruptly thinking about what you were wearing and wondering if it was okay. But, was there even any point in changing out of your slightly wrinkled t-shirt and pajama shorts?
You weren’t entirely sure, but you still got up from your bed and turned on your light, and then headed toward your closet.
You were halfheartedly picking through your clothes and making mental comments about everything— a dress felt like overkill and putting on jeans would be too annoying— when something hit you on the head and made you yelp. You looked down and saw that it was Hartford; he had previously been sitting on the shelf above your clothes. You picked him up and placed him back on your desk— his rightful place, you decided.
You also decided that what you were wearing was fine. It obviously made sense for the middle of the night and you’d only feel severely underdressed if Steve showed up wearing a suit, which sounded completely ridiculous.
The abrupt sound of something crashing in the kitchen pulled you out of your head and you left your room to make sure Talia was fine. You didn’t immediately see her when you looked over at the kitchen, but when you said, “Everything okay?” her head popped up from behind the counter.
“Yeah, I’m good. Shit, sorry, did I wake you up?” She asked and then sighed. “The mixer was hidden behind a thousand other things, so when I pulled it out, some pans fell.”
You could hear her fixing the pans and then she stood up.
“No, I was already awake,” You answered as you walked toward her. It was way too hard to not let yourself smile as you said your next words. “Steve’s, um, Steve’s coming over.”
She stopped in the middle of looking for something in the fridge and instead turned to you, the happiest smile on her face. “Oh my god, finally! I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since you got back from that date with Adam. I could just tell there was something so different about you and Steve.”
You shook your head as you laughed a bit. “You couldn’t have known about how I felt about Steve then. I barely knew.”
“Of course, I knew. I’m a Psych major for a reason,” She told you, which only made you laugh again. “But, I obviously wasn’t gonna tell you. You had to get there on your own. I’m so glad it didn’t take months, though, and I actually get to see this happen before I graduate and leave.”
You playfully rolled your eyes at her and then shifted the subject. “What are you making?”
“I’m kinda still deciding. It’ll either be a two-layered cake, cupcakes, or this tart recipe that I just saw,” She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just trying to do anything to take my mind off this one final that I’ve been studying for all day.”
That made sense to you. Last semester during the week leading up to finals, she made a fresh batch of cookies every night.
“Maybe I’ll do a cake,” She said, a small teasing smile on her face. “A celebratory one for you and Steve. I’ll frost it white and write ‘Congrats, Lovebirds’ on it in red. Shit, I hope there’s still food coloring left.”
You immediately shook your head. “Please don’t do that. Before when things were fake, you guys couldn’t scare him off, now it definitely could happen.”
“Fine, I’ll just make a completely normal white cake that has absolutely nothing to do with you and Steve. But, deep down, both you and I know the truth.”
You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Thank you.”
She finished grabbing the eggs from the fridge and you headed to the couch, knowing that she liked working alone in the kitchen. A part of you wanted to turn on the TV, but you weren’t in the mood to put on a movie or anything.
You heard Talia hum to herself as she started measuring flour and sugar and then cracking eggs.
It was calming to see her completely in her element with her thoughts focused solely on one thing. Your thoughts didn’t have something specific to focus on, so they instead focused on Steve. Him and you and you two together. Well, together, but not really because nothing was settled yet. So, right now, in this moment, you two were just friends. Or was that not even an accurate description either?
“Get out of your head.”
You looked over at Talia, wondering how long she’d been watching you and seeing you starting to inwardly spiral. “How could you tell?”
“Once again, Psych major for a reason,” She said, giving you a small smile. “Stop thinking so hard about everything right now. It’s all gonna be great when he gets here. Hey, just tell me a story. A random one. First thing that comes to you.”
You thought for a second and then went with the first thing that came to your mind just like Talia said; a quick story about a summer camp that you went to when you were ten. It was almost too easy to think of things to talk about involving the month-long sleep away camps or short stints at super niche-specific camps that your parents found for you.
The knock on the door came when you were in the middle of telling Talia about a different summer, a theater camp you were forced to go to for two weeks when you were twelve.
You quickly got to the end of the story as you walked over to the door. “Long story short, the whole show was canceled due to the pregnancy rumor.”
Talia shook her head in disbelief. “No way.”
“Yeah, it was insane. Spoiler alert, though, she wasn’t pregnant. Thank god. But, that was when I learned how ruthless theater kids are.”
You pulled the door open after letting out a soft laugh at Talia sighing and saying, “Children are evil.”
You wanted to be normal about seeing Steve standing in front of you right then— really, you did— but it was too hard to. He was sporting messy bedhead, sweatpants, and a t-shirt that matched yours with how wrinkled it was. It looked as if he had rushed to get here, which was actually true given the fact that he managed to turn a typical thirty-minute drive into twenty minutes.
“Hi,” You said, a fresh wave of giddiness hitting you immediately and it was hard to contain the smile tugging at your lips.
He didn’t hesitate to match it. “Hey.”
You both simply smiled at each other like idiots for a few moments. Talia was right.
The sound of the oven beeping followed by Talia saying, “How long it takes for the oven to preheat is the one thing that I’m really not gonna miss about this place,” seemed to pull you both out of your lovestruck trance.
“Hi, sorry, come in,” You said to Steve, pushing the door open further so that he could step inside and then you closed it behind him. “Talia’s baking a cake.”
“A completely normal cake,” She told him and you immediately gave her a look. “Anyway, nice to see you again, Steven.”
“You, too,” He said. “What makes it normal?”
“Nothing. Please ignore what she just said,” You told him, and then didn’t think too much as you grabbed his hand and led him toward your room. You didn’t realize what you’d done until your door was shut behind you both and your hand was still holding his— it didn’t feel entirely wrong, though.
You noticed him look at your desk. “You still have Hartford.”
You let go of his hand as you went over to grab the small bear. “Of course, I do. I hope you still have Bowie.”
“Of course,” He said, smiling and matching your certain tone.
“Thinking about it now, I feel like that whole Valentine’s night should’ve sealed the deal for me. It was literally a date,” You said, letting out a laugh as you placed Hartford back down on your desk.
Thinking back to Valentine’s Day also made you abruptly remember that that was also the night he told you about him not wanting anything serious and finally explaining the “why” behind it too. And it was then that you realized that just because he had feelings for you didn’t necessarily mean that his mindset on relationships had changed too.
You were rushing to continue and verbalize that before Steve could say anything. “And I completely get it if all of this doesn’t really change anything. Because none of this means that how you view love and relationships has changed. Not saying that you love me or anything but–”
He cut off your rambling with a head shake. “Hey, no, this is so different. I want everything with you.” It was hard not to become shy under his gaze, especially as he said those words, but you still refused to look away from him as he kept talking.
“You kind of changed it all for me. I was scared of it before, I think— of doing anything serious and letting anyone in because I just assumed that I’d end up getting heartbroken again. But, with you, it never really felt like that; scary or anything. I think that when we were stuck at my place during the power outage and just talking, deep down I knew that things with you were gonna be different or already were; it didn’t feel weird or scary getting deep with you or letting you in. Same thing with that night in Mexico when we were eating cereal and talking about all of that serious stuff. It took a while for me to actually admit what all of those things meant, though.”
Hearing him say that made you think about when he proposed the fake dating thing, when he said that guys are dumb and it takes them a while to realize things. Thinking about those words now made you smile.
“Guys are stupid,” You said. “You’re the one that told me that.”
Steve nodded, laughing a little. “We are. That’s still very true.”
“I was also stupid. I avoided everything for a long time too.”
“Glad to know we’re both idiots then,” He said, which made you smile wider.
For a second, nothing else was said; it honestly felt as if nothing else really needed to be said right then. You weren’t sure if it was you or him that closed most of the distance between you two— perhaps it was both of you. Either way, a silent agreement to push things further was made as your arms came up to loosely circle his neck and his hands found your waist.
It was you who didn’t waste a second to turn that final bit of space between you into nothing. You leaned in slowly, though, nose brushing against his before softly finding his lips.
It was simply just a peck at first, a chaste kiss just to test the waters and define this moment as different from the other few times that this had happened. You both knew that this was entirely different. It wasn’t good but confusing like during the blind date, and it wasn’t for show like the times in Mexico. This first kiss was right, and as simple and brief as it was, it felt damn near perfect.
When you pulled away after just a second, Steve didn’t hesitate to lean right back in, quickly letting his mouth find yours again. One of his hands left your waist and came up to cup your cheek instead. That soft touch grounded you, it kept you steady and it also did something to your heart; made it start thumping wildly in your chest.
There was no part of you that wanted this moment to end, you wanted to live in it for as long as you could and memorize every single part of it. The way your fingers so easily found home in the hair at the nape of his neck. His warm hand on your waist that you could practically feel through your t-shirt. How it was almost like a dance happening as Steve guided you back against your shut door, pressing you against it, and you used that as the opportunity to pull him impossibly closer to you.
It didn’t take long for you two to end up in your bed; you quickly became too tired of standing and the doorknob poking into your side became too uncomfortable.
Your legs were on either side of his lap and he was leaning back against the headboard, pulling you toward him. It felt like you were two teenagers who had just discovered what making out was. And it also felt as if you both were in agreement about feeling like you two had wasted so much time not kissing over the last month of not talking to each other and since you two met that you were trying to make up for all of that lost time.
When you pulled away to catch your breath, Steve’s lips found your neck, and your eyes immediately slipped shut.
“I meant what I said before,” He mumbled against your skin, but you heard him clearly.
Your eyes were still contentedly closed as you asked, “Meant what?”
“That you should come to Europe with me this summer.”
You let out a soft laugh that quickly turned into a sigh of contentment when his lips found a particularly sensitive part of your neck. “You’re insane.”
“Insanely serious,” Steve said in between kisses.
You pulled back then to look at him— it was hard to do, you really didn’t want to pull away, but reluctantly you did. You wanted to gauge how serious he was actually being right then, and you could tell by the look on his face that he wasn’t joking.
His hands found yours and intertwined them. “Say yes.”
How happy he sounded rubbed off on you and you had to bite your lip to suppress your growing smile. “I’ll think about it.”
“That sounds like a yes to me,” He said, still smiling as he leaned in to kiss you.
You pulled away after the briefest second. “I’m serious.” You weren’t at all. “I gotta make a pro and con list to make sure this is the right decision.”
“Okay, I’m already thinking of a bunch of pros to add to the list,” Steve told you and then gave you a playful smile. “I can’t think of any cons, though, so...” He finished off with a shrug that made you laugh.
Weirdly enough, no cons were coming to your mind right then either.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
next part!
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#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x you#eddie munson x reader#bestfriend!eddie munson#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington angst#steve harrington imagines#steve harrington series#stranger things fluff#stranger things imagine
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the art of falling in love (part one)
natasha romanoff x fem reader (high school au)
You’ve been in love with your best friend’s sister ever since you first met her (who wouldn’t be?), and you were content to take these feelings to the grave. But when she begins to reciprocate, things get complicated, and you find yourself lying to almost everyone you know — including yourself.
best friend!yelena belova, aroace!yelena belova, internalised homophobia, found family trope, coming of age, angst, fluff (eventual happy ending)
part one (5k words) | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue
read this fic on ao3!
You’ll never forget the fateful day that you laid eyes upon Natasha Romanoff for the first time. Even at the ripe age of seven, you knew you wanted her in your life forever.
Melina Vostokoff and Alexi Shostakov are your neighbours — they live right across the street, and they have done for as long as you can remember. On your fifth birthday, they came home from a trip to Russia with a daughter, Yelena. From the moment you laid eyes on one another, the two of you knew you were best friends. Neither sets of parents had any qualms on that (“oho, here comes trouble,” Alexi would say teasingly whenever the two of you came tearing into the room), and so even before Natasha’s arrival you spent more of your waking hours in their household than in your own.
One time, two years since Yelena entered your life and only a few weeks before Natasha’s arrival, you were playing in the sandy dirt down the back of Yelena’s house, and huffing in annoyance as it proved too fine to hold up as a sandcastle. You looked over at your best friend who was currently experiencing much more success in her own task, her tongue sticking out slightly in concentration as she carefully stacked twigs to build a bug hotel, and without even thinking you asked, “why did you pick me? To be your friend?”
Yelena blinked, surprised, but placed a leaf on top of her miniature structure to serve as a roof before responding. “What do you mean?”
“Weeeeell,” you narrowed your eyes in thought, trying to figure out what it was that you meant, “we’ve just always been friends. And I like it, but I was like, why?”
She was quiet for a good few moments, and if you didn’t know the girl any better then you would have missed the slight cleft between her brows that means she’s formulating her next words, and you would’ve thought she was ignoring you. But you did know better, because she was your best friend, and that thought filled your tiny frame with joy.
“Sometimes when you meet people, it’s special,” she said eventually. “Like a puzzle, you know when they fit together? Like — like that,” she mimed two things slotting together with her fingers, and you nodded. “It happened for us, I think. It happened when my mom and dad met, they tell me all the time that dad loved mom from the moment he met her,” she wrinkled her nose, and you giggled. “And it happened for me and my sister in Russia.”
With that last statement, she’d caught your interest. Often in passing she’d mention her sister from the orphanage in Russia, where she’d been before Melina and Alexi had sorted out her visa to bring her back to their home in Ohio. You never quite knew how to respond to it, and she never elaborated beyond throwaway comments such as these, so you were fairly certain that this sister wasn’t even real until the day she was brought home.
And what a day that was; one that turned your life upside down forever. As far as you knew, when you first woke up, it was a day like any other. Another sunny morning of summer vacation. You woke up as bright and early as children annoyingly do and rushed to get ready to spend another day at Yelena’s house, no doubt irritating the shit out of her parents (who, to their credit, were very tolerant of you and Yelena’s seven-year-old antics). But once you’d knocked and stood fidgeting eagerly on their front porch, it wasn’t Yelena, or her parents, who opened the door.
No, it was an unfamiliar girl you were faced with — only one year older as you were soon to learn, but already an entire head taller than you. She looked down at you, face stony, and you stared back in confusion. There was no way this was the wrong house, you’d been coming here every day for the last two years, and you saw it every time you looked out of your bedroom window. So what was going on?
You found yourself remembering a Slavic children’s story Alexi had told you and Yelena last winter, late at night when you were curled up by the fire together drinking hot chocolate, about an old lady who had a house with chicken legs. The Baba Yaga, Alexi had called her. During the night her house would stand up and run away, and be gone from its previous spot the next morning; you found yourself wondering if this had happened to Yelena’s house too. Could any house have legs, or just the Baba Yaga’s house? You’d have to ask Alexi — once you tracked down his runaway house, of course.
“Y/N,” a voice squealed from behind the unfamiliar girl, and Yelena’s face poked out from behind her. “Y/N this is my sister! From Russia, her name is Natasha.”
“You are Yelena’s best friend?” Natasha asked softly, a gentle Russian lilt to her words. “It’s nice to meet you.”
And just like Yelena had described to you, you looked up at Natasha and something just clicked. Something aligned; a puzzle piece you hadn’t even known you were missing slotted into place.
You knew even then that you wanted to be around her forever.
It’s been ten years now, since that day, and you’ve grown up alongside the two of them. You’re an only child with distant parents, and Alexi and Melina have taken you under your wing — so much in fact that Yelena’s room is referred to affectionately as the twins’ room, and you have your own bed in there. More of your stuff is at their house rather than your own these days.
But Natasha has always been just out of reach. Since the day you first met her there’s been this pit in your stomach whenever she’s been around, strange and foreign and somewhat scary to you, that has you reduced to a silent mess with trembling fingers whenever she’s around. It’s a feeling you’ve not always understood, but in more recent years you’ve come to accept you’re in love with her; something you will take to the grave.
You don’t stand a chance with her, of course. You’re her little sister’s best friend, a whole year younger than her, and where she’s popular in school you tend to stick to the shadows. You’re not really picked on, per se — no one dares to when Yelena Belova, who’s terrifying in her own right as well as the little sister of Natasha Romanoff, is constantly glued to your side — but you just don’t have the same social standing that Natasha does. Even if by some miracle you did, she’s your best friend’s sister. You know she’ll never see you that way.
So you’ve decided to yourself you’re going to keep these feelings under lock and key, and pray they’ll go away.
And it’s been going pretty good!… well, that is, until tonight.
Alexi and Melina have flown back to Russia for the New Year, leaving the household in the hands of you, Yelena and Natasha. You and Yelena were perfectly content with spending your days of freedom ordering takeout, bingeing awful reality TV shows and annoying the cat for hours on end, but Natasha was having none of that. The Starks can’t hold their New Year thrasher at their house like normal this year (something about a sick aunt on bedrest? You weren’t really listening, to be honest), so with her parents out of town, Natasha’s offered up her house.
“I don’t want a bunch of gross sweaty drunk people in our house,” Yelena had protested when it was proposed to her, nose wrinkling. “это отвратительно. No.”
“Aw come on, please,” Natasha groaned. “It’s just one night.”
“But it’s not just one night, because we will be cleaning up for days after,” retorted Yelena. “Last time there was vomit everywhere. That was a zero out of ten experience.”
Natasha snorted. “What are you, TripAdvisor?” Dodging Yelena’s half-hearted smack, she’d added, “See, why can’t you be like Y/N? They don’t mind. Right, Y/N?”
Sure, she’d probably played you, but with those eyes who could say no to her?
Well, evidently not you. And because of it, you and Yelena are stuck spending New Year’s Eve locked in her (your) bedroom, her TV on at max volume to even be vaguely heard over the music that shakes the bed with every beat.
“О мой Бог, it’s not even midnight,” Yelena whines, checking her clock for the sixth time in the last ten minutes. “We are going to be dealing with this for hours. Natalia owes us one.”
“She’ll feel guilty tomorrow and take us to a drive-thru,” you tell her, and she sticks her tongue out at you instead of admitting that you’re right.
She opens her mouth to say something else (something witty and uncalled for, you’re sure), but she’s cut off by an abysmally loud crash and scream from downstairs, followed by even louder cheering. The look that crosses her face next just makes you very glad you’re not on the receiving end of her anger tonight.
“Liho,” you remember suddenly, “where is he? Did we pick him up before the party started?”
She pauses. “Oh, shit.”
“He’s still down there?” you panic. “Fuck, Lena, you know how much he hates noise. I’m gonna go get him.”
“No, let me,” Yelena protests, but you wave her off.
“No, because you’ll come back with a kill list twice as long as it is now,” you retort and she scrunches up her face at you, because as always with her you’ve hit the nail on the head. You blow her a kiss before closing the door behind you.
Immediately, you’re hit by the overwhelming stench of sweat and alcohol. Okay, ew. You’d practically begged Natasha to dilute the jet fuel that the Russians call vodka before distributing it, but evidently she’s not taken your pleas into account tonight. (You’re all going to pay for it tomorrow morning come clean-up time.)
At least the universe isn’t totally against you right now, though — the household’s cat, Liho, has one place he will flee to without fail whenever he’s scared; the tiny gap between the washing machine and the wall, in the laundry room. With any luck, you can sneak in and out of there through Melina’s office without encountering too many partygoers.
Getting down the stairs proves a task in itself; they are absolutely soaking for some reason, something must have been spilled on them, so thank god they’re hardwood and not carpeted. It’s like a slip and slide on your way down, and you cling onto the banister for dear life, your task only made more difficult by the tens of other people who have no regard whatsoever for your Mission Impossible-level task currently at hand.
Miraculously, you somehow make it to the bottom of the stairs unscathed, and immediately wince as you straighten back up. The noise down here is even louder, the smell even stronger, and you want nothing more than to flee back upstairs and cower under the bedsheets with Yelena until everyone finally fucks off home. But you remind yourself that if this is the way you feel, tiny flighty Liho probably feels even worse, and as his self-appointed cat mother (which you have been ever since you and Yelena rescued him from the roadside and brought him home), it’s your duty to rescue him.
So you battle your way on through to the laundry room, which thank the lord is empty. You close the heavy wooden door behind you with relief, and lean back against it for a moment, panting to recollect yourself. Jesus fuck, do you hate parties. You’re not even trying to be difficult, it’s just something you’ll never understand — they’re so overstimulating, so overwhelming. You always leave them with such a depleted social battery that you won’t be seen again for the next week. How someone can enjoy these things, you’ll never fathom.
You’re distracted from your inner monologue by the sound of gentle scrabbling, coming from behind the washing machine. An involuntary smile spreads over your face as you instantly clock what that noise is, and you approach slowly, dropping to a crouch.
“Hey buddy,” you say softly to the black fur vaguely visible among the shadows. Its gentle movements freeze, and the scrabbling noise stops. “This sucks, doesn’t it? All alone down here.”
He blinks at you.
”Yeah, it does, huh?” you continue. “What do you say we get outta here? You can come upstairs with me and Lena. How’d you feel about that, bud, huh? It’ll be much nicer, I promise. It’s so lonely down here, isn’t it?”
Convinced, the kitten wriggles out of his hiding spot and trots into your waiting arms. You scoop him up, planting kisses on his head and giggling.
“Good boy. Sweet boy. We got snacks in our room. You just love Twizzlers, don’t you?”
“He does love Twizzlers,” says a raspy voice from behind you, scaring the absolute shit out of both you and Liho. He yelps in alarm, and alarm at your alarm, digging his claws into your shoulder in a way that makes you hiss out loud. You spin around to see none other than Natasha behind you (she must have been in here before you closed the door, you vaguely piece together in your state of gay panic), red beer pong cup in hand, looking fucking beautiful.
You’ve avoided her as much as you can today while she’s gotten ready for tonight, reasoning with yourself that you’re only torturing yourself if you keep admiring her from afar, but holy fuck you can’t believe you were depriving yourself of this. A pale pink, almost nude dress, with silver blossoms settled comfortably on her hips in the way that your hands itch to be, and eyeliner that could fucking cut someone. But she’s smiling at you so softly that even the knife-sharp eyeliner smiles with her, and even though she just gave you the fright of your life you’re almost shaking with the restraint it takes to not go absolutely feral. She looks so good.
Oh lord, you are hopeless.
“You and him are just as bad as each other,” she comments, still smiling, so you know she doesn’t really mean it. Desperately scrabbling to cover for your internal screaming, you fake a pout, dropping a kiss on Liho’s head (he rubs his forehead gratefully against your cheek in return).
“That’s so mean,” you grumble.
“You look really pretty tonight,” she tells you, and your heart actually stops at the compliment. It feels like a trick for a moment, that she’d say something like that, but she’s still smiling a smile that makes your insides go all woozy.
“I really don’t think,” you begin, looking down at your outfit, but then pause. What with the top secret CIA-level mission that retrieving Liho has become, you’ve almost forgotten that before all of this you and Yelena had been playing dress up — strictly within the confines of your bedroom, of course, but you’re wearing one of Mama Melina’s old college dresses and it doesn’t look half bad on you, even though it now probably has Liho hairs all over it. You vaguely recall Yelena begging you to let her do your makeup (“pleeeease, Y/N, I swear I’ll be serious this time no more penises I promise”) too, so maybe it’s not such a reach that Nat actually thinks you look pretty tonight. “Oh. Thank you. S- so do you, I —” You forcibly stop yourself there, for fear of real embarrassment.
Her lips twitch in amusement at your antics. “Thanks.”
There’s a lull in the conversation, a moment of silence, and you figure you’d best take your leave before you inevitably embarrass yourself in front of the love of your life. You step toward the door which she’s still stood in front of, mumbling something unintelligible, but Natasha remains firm and simply raises an eyebrow at you as she sips from her solo cup. Literally everything she does is so insanely attractive that you have to bury your face in Liho’s fur for a moment and inhale in order to ground yourself properly. How can one person be so lovely? It’s just not fair.
“I should go back upstairs, Liho doesn’t like the noise,” you tell Natasha.
“You know, it’s nearly midnight,” is all she replies. “They’re about to start the countdown.”
You nod, tight-lipped. Even when it’s muffled through the thick wood of the laundry room the noise is starting to get to you now, and Liho won’t sit still in your arms either, and you want to get back upstairs to the warm safety of your bed and Yelena’s company and the shit Kardashians show you were watching, away from the girl who it’s as torturous as it is wonderful to be around.
“It’s a romantic thing for a lot of people,” she continues, and you have to look away at that. It’s almost as though she, or the universe is dangling the fact that she’ll never be interested in you in front of your face tantalisingly — like a carrot on a stick. “To kiss the one you love when the clock hits midnight, and the New Year rolls in. You got anyone to kiss this year?”
Okay, wow. Ouch.
“Liho,” you reply with as much humour as you can muster. “He is my one true love. Aren’t you, bud,” you add a few octaves higher, and he perks up, recognising that voice that’s for him. When you look back up at Natasha she’s studying you with amusement in her eyes, as though she knows something you don’t. You can hear the chanting beginning outside of the laundry room now, preparing to ring in the New Year; twenty… nineteen…
Still, though, Natasha makes no move to let you leave.
“Do you have anyone to kiss at midnight?” you ask her pointedly. “Cause you should probably get back to them.”
She downs the rest of the contents of her solo cup in one before slamming it down on the counter beside her. “Don’t need to,” comes her gruff reply, “they’re right here.”
Your jaw actually fucking drops at that statement, and your brain shortcircuits. What? Even though your heart skips a hopeful beat, you shake your head quickly to clear it of the idea that she could reciprocate these crushing feelings you harbour for her. Instead, you hold Liho out to her, hands under his armpits so that his hind legs dangle below him and he stretches to look comically long — as though you’re giving him to her like a present (which he sends you a very unimpressed for). “O— oh,” you stutter, “well if he’s your midnight kiss, is that why you were in here? I don’t want to —” twelve, eleven…
She actually laughs out loud at that, and bats Liho away. “Not him, дурачок. You.”
Her hands are cupping at the side of your face, and despite the absolute bizarre circumstances you find yourself leaning into her touch, desperate to memorise the feel of her warm calloused fingertips against your skin — seven, six; she looks down at you, the blue-green outlining her wide dark pupils framing a silent question. You’re in absolute slack-jawed disbelief, this has got to be a prank, it’s got to be — four, three — but she holds your gaze with a kind of certainty that surely can’t be summoned to fool someone. You nod a trembling, single nod, and her lips press against yours just as the clock strikes midnight.
Her lips are so soft, so gentle against yours. Your eyelids flutter shut; you can’t help it. She feels like heaven. She’s tentative at first, but when she can feel you reciprocating, her hands begin to explore a little; one moving to tangle itself in your hair, the other to your back and pulling you in closer to her. One of your arms is busy still cradling Liho close to your chest, but the other is free to trace along Natasha’s skin wonderingly as she continues her ministrations. Her leg slides between yours, forcing you backwards against the wall, where her kisses trail down your jaw for a moment before creeping back up toward your lips and returning to kissing them instead. When she nips gently at your bottom lip, you let out a noise you’ve never heard yourself make before, a kind of high-pitched whine in the back of your throat that makes Natasha laugh quietly as she pulls away for air. Liho, who was nestled comfortably between the two of you throughout the exchange, is purring merrily (“talk, Valentina!” as your friend Darcy would say).
She looks down at you for a moment, eyes wide and dilated, hair a little less perfect than before, panting slightly. She’s always had a few inches on you, ever since you were kids, and that’s something she often teases you for but right now the way she’s towering over you is so fucking hot. None of this can be real, you think to yourself hazily as she leans back in to plant one more kiss, much more chaste this time, against your lips.
“Happy New Year,” she says lowly to you; her voice is a little more broken and raspy than it was pre-makeout and it actually sends a shiver down your spine. And then she’s waltzing out of the room, leaving you absolutely shaking against the wall she was just pressing you against; your legs give up on you as you slide down against it to the ground, trying to catch your breath and understand what just happened.
Because what?
You wake up the next morning to a house that’s thankfully empty, aside from its usual residents. You’re absolutely terrified that last night was some kind of dream, or it was a drunk mistake. You’ve never felt so vulnerable in your life. You’re right in the palm of Natasha’s hand and she has all the power in the world to absolutely break you right now. She could shatter you into a thousand irreparable pieces and leave you in the dirt if she so wanted to, and that thought is one that had you tossing and turning last night.
Yelena can’t for the life of her fathom why you’re so jittery this morning. You’ve told her fuck all, of course. What were you meant to say? Hey, sorry, last night your sister who I’m kind of a little bit in love with cornered me and we made out? No fucking way. When you came back to the bedroom last night all shaken up and wordless, she just assumed that the party atmosphere had been that overwhelming. You were very grateful for her gentleness with you as you tried to figure out what the fuck was going on, and what you were meant to do now. You tried to Google it, but it would appear that not many other people can relate to the situation that you’ve found yourself in (the best thing you could find were some decade-old Quora threads about being in love with your straight best friend, and the idea of Yelena being straight was so funny to you that you had to close the tab before your laughing woke her up), and you ended up being so worried about Yelena somehow seeing your search history that you cleared the whole thing, which definitely is not suspicious.
“Hey,” Yelena slaps the back of your head playfully as she passes you, knocking you out of your trance, “it is a new day. Party is over, the house is ours, leave the miserableness behind in yesterday, да?”
You nod as you follow her down the stairs.
Natasha, to your surprise, is already awake, and seemingly not even hungover as she bustles around the kitchen, preparing something.
Yelena seems to read your thoughts, as she often does, and nods in agreement. “What, you are not curled up in bed with four million painkillers?” she asks incredulously as she slides onto a stool at the kitchen island.
Natasha shakes her head good-naturedly at her sister’s greeting, pressing her lips together to keep from smiling like an idiot as she continues to cook. “No. I feel good this morning, actually. Really good.” The smile bleeds through her words and takes over her face again.
You and Yelena exchange a look. What is… happening?
“You are being weird,” Yelena tells her, and smacks her over the back of the head with a rolled-up newspaper as her older sister walks past her to grab the butter. “What have I missed, did you get laid last night or something?”
Your blood runs cold at that, and you have to look away from Yelena so she doesn’t see the way your face drops. Is that true? Did she kiss you and then sleep with someone else? No, she wouldn’t do that to you, surely.
Your thoughts (hopes) are confirmed when she snorts to herself and shakes her head, her back still to the both of you as she pours batter into a pan. “No. No, I just — I had a really good time last night. That’s all. Thanks for letting me have the party.”
You watch as Yelena’s eyebrows furrow, her eyes tracking every one of Natasha’s movements intently, and she tries to figure out what’s going on. You’re similarly perplexed. Natasha is the silent, stony older sibling, the watcher, the one who hears everything and knows everything but doesn’t often speak of her own accord. Last night in the laundry room was the longest exchange you’ve had with her in weeks (and that was before she kissed you). As a kid you would mistake this for shyness, but it eventually became clear that Natasha Romanoff is not shy. She’s very far from it, in fact. She’s just observant, and doesn’t feel the need to speak unless she has something to say. You have zero clue what she’s feeling or thinking half the time — her poker face is so good it’s unsettling. So this is a weird occurrence. You don’t think you’ve seen her as happy as this since… well, since the day she was brought home.
“Well, it is not as though we had much choice in the matter,” Yelena retorts humorously. “Don’t forget we are not cleaning up. That’s on you, сестра.”
“I know, I know,” Natasha grumbles playfully, placing a plate in front of each of you before sliding a pancake onto each of them, right out of the pan. “I owe you one.”
Yelena looks from the pancake to her sister, and back again. “What is this?”
“A chocolate chip pancake.”
“They’re heart-shaped,” you observe quietly.
“Well done for having eyes. If you don’t want them —”
“Nope, it’s good, thank you,” says Yelena thickly, and it’s already gone. You let out a noise of amusement as you eat in a more dignified manner, humming your approval. You don’t think Nat’s ever made you breakfast. It’s nice, though.
Yelena swallows, and leaps to her feet. “I think it’s a Kardashians marathon on TV today,” she informs you, pointedly ignoring the noise Natasha makes whenever that show is mentioned, and she dashes off into the living room. You are alone with Natasha, for the first time since last night.
The nerves from earlier are back, swelling up inside of you uncomfortably, and you do your best to casually avert your gaze from her as you continue to eat. You have no idea whether to bring up last night or to pretend it never happened. Just thinking of the latter makes your heart ache, but it’s becoming a more real possibility by the minute.
Seemingly indifferent to your internal struggling, Natasha slides a pancake onto her own plate and ruffles your hair as she passes you on her way to the fridge. You flinch at the touch, and she giggles.
“You okay?” she asks you teasingly as she pulls a container of raspberries out of the fridge.
You swallow, and nod, trying your best to not embarrass yourself this morning. “Y — yeah. Uh, can I have some?” You gesture at the tub of raspberries.
She pretends to think for a moment, taking slow steps back towards you, until she’s right in front of you — towering over you even more so than she usually does, since you’re still sat down. You look up at her, filled with something not dissimilar to awe. Even in the mornings, when she’s fresh out of bed and still half-asleep, she’s the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. She places her spare hand on your thigh, with the other still holding the berries, and you think to yourself with absolute certainty that you could die happily in this moment.
“Mmm,” she says thoughtfully. “Beg me.”
Not for the first time in the last twenty-four hours, your jaw drops. You look up at her, pleadingly, not even sure what you’re pleading for. Pleading her to go easy on you? Pleading her to stop? To keep going? But she’s unrelenting.
“Please,” you say eventually, quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please can I have some.”
Almost too quickly for you to process, her lips are pressing against yours. You gasp against her, every single emotion from last night swelling back up, with the added concern that Yelena is in the next room over. But she pulls away after a moment, winking at you as she retreats to her own seat, and as you raise a hand to your lips you realise that in kissing you, she’s left a berry between your lips. She laughs gently when she sees you openly staring at her, and the sound sets your whole body alight, the feeling only amplified by the fact that you’re the cause of her laughter.
Well, you wanted an answer and there’s not many ways to interpret that one.
And so begins your scandalous affair with your best friend’s sister.
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff x fem reader#natasha romanoff x female reader#natasha romanoff#natalia romanova#black widow#high school au#marvel high school au
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Sugar || 6
Masterlist || Part Five || Part Seven
Steven Grant/Sugar Mommy!Reader
Word count: 3.7k
Series Summary: You meet Steven in a museum gift shop and feel an instant connection. Before you walk out the door you decide, perhaps against your better judgment, that you need him to be your sugar baby. Now you just need him to let you treat him right.
Notes: Reader is mentioned to have hair in this chapter and wears a bonnet to sleep at night. It's also alluded to that the reader doesn't have a close relationship with her mother, though the specifics aren't mentioned and at this point are open to interpretation.
“Have you ever been on a plane before?” you ask, noticing Steven’s hesitancy that’s been hanging around since the two of you stepped into the airport.
“I haven’t, no,” he says, fiddling with the strap of his backpack sitting at his feet. The two of you are currently waiting for the plane to arrive.
Steven finally managed to wrangle Donna into approving enough time off that you could take him on a small vacation. Until now, it had never occurred to you that he might not like flying. You’re so used to it, never batting an eye when you need to fly somewhere. Nowadays, it’s become such a regular form of travel for you, it’s no different from taking a car.
You take Steven’s hand, intertwining your fingers. “Will you be okay? I can get medicine if you’re not feeling well.”
“I’ll be fine,” Steven assures you, squeezing your hand. “You said it’s a short flight?”
“A little over an hour,” you say, kissing his cheek. “Not long at all. And then we get to spend the next few days relaxing.”
You picked a place in Germany. Nothing too flashy for a first outing despite the casino located there. That doesn’t seem quite like Steven’s style, though, and it’s not yours for that matter. You have better ways of making money than gambling. Personally, you’re looking forward to the thermal baths. You hope they’re not too crowded.
Steven told you a few weeks ago that he spoke French. It happened while dining at a lavish restaurant. You had asked if he needed help with the menu since nothing was named in English, but he was the one who eventually ordered for you both, wanting to show off. The whole thing made you consider France for your first vacation spot, but, to be honest, Germany interested you much more.
You had to force yourself to stop thinking about Steven speaking French to you the whole trip.
“Where is everyone else, anyway?” Steven asks. The two of you are in a private lounge large enough to hold more people, but just as you planned, you are alone.
“It’s just us. We’re flying private.” You don’t always fly alone, especially for longer flights, but you want Steven all to yourself for this trip and don’t want to worry about other people on a crowded plane.
You also want to impress him just a tad.
Steven’s eyebrows shoot up. “What, really?”
“Mhmm. And I think this is us.” You nod toward the staff member walking toward you.
“The car’s ready for you, ma’am.”
“Car?” Steven asks as you stand, shouldering your handbag.
“To take us to the jet,” you say simply. “It’ll take us out on the tarmac and right up to it.”
Steven’s speechless as the two of you are led out of the lounge and to an opened doorway, a black car waiting just outside.
Even though he’s still a little dazed, Steven rushes forward, attempting to get to the car and open the door for you, but the man who led you here beats him to it. Steven turns back to you awkwardly and, still determined to be gentlemanly, holds out his hand to help you inside.
Smiling indulgently at him, you take it before sliding onto the back seat with Steven following right after. A minute later, he helps you back out, pausing only to look up at the jet waiting for the two of you.
“It’s not too late to cancel,” you whisper to him.
“I want to do this,” he tells you firmly, though you notice the nervous bobbing of his throat. He takes the first step toward the stairs, determined to prove it to you, though when he reaches the base, he lets you go first.
Greeting the flight attendant, you make your way toward the sets of double seats in the middle of the jet. Two sets face each other with a table between them on one side of the aisle, while on the other is a small set of cabinets with a TV on top. Aiming for the seats facing the entrance and cockpit, you pause.
“Do you want the window or the aisle seat?” you ask like you’re in a normal plane and not a private jet where you both can have a window seat if you want. The thing is, you want Steven sitting next to you, so you’re more than happy to sacrifice your preference so he’s more comfortable.
“Window, please.”
After stowing your bags in the small overhead compartment, Steven slides into your chosen seats, with you following and pressing snuggly up against him. The seats aren’t so cramped that you’re forced to be that close; you just want to be.
When the jet starts to taxi along the tarmac as the pilot moves into position on the runway for takeoff, you feel Steven tense against you.
“Want me to put on a movie? Help take your mind off it?” you ask, concerned. You start rubbing a hand soothingly up and down his arm, attempting to distract him.
Steven shakes his head and keeps his eyes locked on the window.
“I think…” he starts, “it’s just because it’s new. I don’t know what to expect.” He turns away from the window to look at you. “But being with you makes it easier.”
You beam at him, your smile stretching wide across your mouth. You’re glad you can be here for him.
Steven leans forward, aiming for your lips. You close your eyes and tilt your head, waiting. As his lips brush yours, the jet starts shaking as it speeds up, about to lift into the air.
Steven gasps and falls back into his seat, pressing himself as far as he can and desperately clutching the armrest. All you can do is hold onto him and wait. But once the shaking stops a moment later, the wheels off the ground and the jet taking flight, Steven sighs, some of the tension leaving him.
“That wasn’t so bad,” he says lightly like he hasn’t been slightly panicking for hours. You smother the laugh that threatens to bubble up.
“And you’ll get used to it the more vacations we take,” you say encouragingly, relieved he seems to be settling in.
“Plan on keeping me around, then?” Steven teases.
Smiling softly, you look at him for a moment before leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder. “I’m keeping you for a long time.”
Some of your other babies were less than enthusiastic about your vacation destinations. They had hoped you’d take them to luxury resorts, tropical islands, maybe even on a cruise. And for a few of them, you did.
But those weren’t things you gravitated toward when you took time off. You even avoided major tourist spots because they simply didn’t appeal to you.
Why go to Paris and get pickpocketed every two seconds when trying to see the Eiffel Tower when you can go somewhere more enjoyable for you?
But then there’s Steven.
So far, he’s practically in love with the town in Germany that many one-time travelers would never think to visit. He certainly seems to be enjoying it far more than your other babies would have. He stares in wide-eyed wonder at everything, even the hotel the two of you are staying in.
Upon first glance, the exterior is reminiscent of a more modern castle. Further inspection turns the sides into a vast amount of awning-covered windows leading to the various rooms. Even still, the sheer size of the place is impressive, especially so to someone who’s never had the chance to stay anywhere like it.
The room you booked even draws a breathless “This is bigger than my whole flat” from Steven. You try to tell him the terrace of your chosen penthouse suite shouldn’t count because it’s outside, but he only gives you an obstinate look.
The suite is decorated beautifully with paintings, brightly colored walls, and elegant wood-trimmed furniture, giving it a more thoughtful feel than the stark black and chrome modern style of so many other places.
You don’t stay in the room for long, though. A quick in and out to drop off luggage, freshen up, and switch into walking shoes. You like to keep activities light on travel days, so you don’t have anything overly taxing in mind.
After grabbing something light to eat at the on-site restaurant, you take Steven on a stroll through the lush park next to the hotel. In certain circumstances—and terrain—hiking isn’t your favorite, but walking through a beautifully designed park with a vast variety of flora, a quaint stream, and leisurely paths is right up your alley.
Steven enjoys it as well, the rough start to the day entirely forgotten.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a place so beautiful,” he comments, gazing around at the trees surrounding the path you stopped on. You’re sitting on a bench, enjoying the shade for a moment, admiring Steven as he enthusiastically holds out his phone, taking a million pictures of the various kinds of trees filling the park.
“I can’t wait to take you to some of the other places I have in mind. Then you can rank them all.”
Steven turns to you, nervously licking his lips. “Would you mind if I picked a place someday?”
You lean over to kiss his cheek. “I’ll take you anywhere you want, baby.”
“Anywhere?” Exciting starts shining in his eyes.
“Well, if you ask to see the Titanic, I’m saying ‘no’ immediately,” you tease, making Steven laugh and lean into you. “Take a picture of us?”
He dutifully holds out his phone, wrapping his free arm around your shoulder and snapping a couple of pictures, making sure to capture the trees and flowers behind you.
You admire it when Steven shows it to you, memorizing his features even now, and remind yourself to save it with the others when he sends it to you.
A while later, after having your fill of the park, you and Steven start the trek back to the hotel. Your hand is tucked into the crook of Steven’s elbow, and you’re suddenly dragged to a stop a few blocks from your destination.
You let out a gasp, startled, and look at Steven.
He’s staring off toward one of the stores lining the street, and when you see what it is, you give a dramatic roll of your eyes.
“Of course you want to go to a bookshop while on vacation.” You’ve yet to visit his flat—and have yet to talk him into someplace bigger—but he’s admitted to you the place is covered in books. A habit further funded by you, based on the credit card alerts you get every time Steven buys an expensive edition of some out-of-print tome.
“Can we go in?” Steven pleads.
“Can you even read German?” you ask, already tugging him toward the shop.
“I can learn,” he assures, practically racing you toward the door now.
The next hour is spent watching Steven flit between the shelves, different books catching his eye before he even finishes looking at the first.
You do some browsing of your own, picking up only one book as a souvenir, but mostly, you watch your baby have the time of his life.
“Love, look!” Steven calls, referring to you with the pet name that is decidedly more appropriate to use in public than the mummy that comes out for special occasions.
Meeting halfway between the shelf you were browsing and his, Steven thrusts a book toward you. You glance at the German on the cover before your eye catches on what clearly caught his attention: hieroglyphics.
If you’re being honest, you didn’t think a book about Ancient Egypt would be found in the touristy section of a German town, but you’re excited for your baby nonetheless.
“Steven, that’s great! Is this a new one for you?”
“I don’t recognize the author’s name, so I think so.” He flips the book back around, examining the cover again. “Can I get it?” he asks, bright eyes now searching yours.
“Just that one,” you start as you glance toward the stack tucked under his arm, “or those ones, too?”
Steven doesn’t miss a beat before excitedly saying, “All of them, please.”
You smile at him and kiss his cheek. He’s come a long way since your relationship first started. He still hesitates over some things, but you’re slowly chipping away at him.
“Whatever you want, baby.”
“Thank you,” Steven says softly as you lead him toward the register.
What’s left of the day is spent relaxing. First, on the terrace overlooking the park you and Steven visited. Then a private dinner, also you enjoyed on the terrace, making the most of the beautiful weather. Finally, the living room as the sun began to set.
“Do you always get tired when you travel?” Steven asks from his spot, curled up against your side on the couch. “Because I’m exhausted.” He lets out a dramatic yawn to prove his point to you.
“Must have been all that walking,” you say, running your fingers through his hair, something you do whenever you get the chance. “Your nerves this morning probably didn’t help.”
“True,” he agrees. He rubs his face against you and closes his eyes as if preparing to go to sleep. “I’m much better now, though.”
You let out a pleased hum. “What do you think about a couple’s spa day tomorrow?” You don’t have a set itinerary, though there are a couple of things you want to do while you’re here. The spa is one of them, especially the one that includes the fancy thermal baths.
Steven mumbles something, and you hear his breathing start to slow. He really is going to fall asleep. But as much as you love the idea of him using you as a pillow, your current position isn’t comfortable enough to spend the night. Not to mention, you still need to do your nighttime routine.
“Baby?” you say, nudging Steven gently. “You want to go to bed?”
“No.” It’s said so quietly, but there’s no mistaking it, and you can’t help but let out a laugh that shakes your body just enough for Steven’s eyes to shoot open, startled.
“Sorry!” he says, sitting up. His hair is terribly mussed, and there’s a flush to his cheeks. You feel your heart skip a beat. “It is getting late, isn’t it?” he says, trying to brush off what just happened. Then Steven glances at the decorative yet functional clock on the wall.
“Oh, bugger,” he says under his breath as he starts patting himself down and looking around the room.
“Lost something?” you ask, curious.
“My phone. Have you seen it?”
“Your room, maybe?” Steven starts toward it when you call after him. “What do you need it for?”
“Was going to call my mum,” Steven calls back to you, a little muffled by the distance and walls of his bedroom. He lets out a triumphant sound. “Found it!”
Steven’s mentioned in the past that he often talks with his mother, but you’ve never been around for an actual phone call before.
“Do you call your mom every day?” you ask when he returns to the living room, returning to his spot on the couch.
Steven stiffens. “Well…not every day… Just most days,” he finishes quietly, his face even more flushed than before. He doesn’t look at you as he slowly taps his phone screen.
You can guess why he’s suddenly more subdued.
“I think that’s sweet,” you say softly. “You must really love her.”
You’re a little jealous. Not of his mother, but of the fact he has one around to love and who must surely love him in return.
Steven easily meets your eye. “I do. She’s my mum, how could I not?” He bites his lip, still looking at you as he thinks something over. “Maybe you could…meet her…one day. If you want, that is. No pressure or anything.”
You open your mouth to answer, but Steven keeps going.
“Actually, know what? Never mind, that’s silly. I shouldn’t have—”
“Steven!” you exclaim as you lean forward to press a hand against his mouth, his lips awkwardly twisted mid-word under your palm. With Steven finally silenced, you say, “I’d love to meet your mother. If that’s what you want.”
You try not to think about how that isn’t normal: you meeting a baby’s family. A baby might talk about their family, but none of them have asked if you wanted to meet them and meld two different parts of their lives. It falls outside the bounds of a typical sugar mommy/baby relationship.
You’re not dating your babies, not really. Sure, you have fun with them—take care of them, kiss them, sleep with them—but at the end of the day, you’re paying them for their time and companionship.
It’s sex work, not a romantic partnership.
It should scare you that Steven wants to introduce you to his mother, of all people—arguably the most important person in his life. It’s a red flag, at the very least. For Steven, the lines between what your relationship is and isn’t is starting to blur.
“Really?” Steven asks disbelievingly when your hand falls from his face.
And maybe they’re starting to blur for you, too, because you say, “Yes, really.”
If only you could take a picture of the smile on his face at your words. You swear it’s the brightest you’ve ever seen.
Before you realize what’s happening, Steven’s hands are on your face, pulling you toward him. His lips crash into yours as you practically fall into his lap. In his excitement, the kiss lands awkwardly, reminiscent of the very first one the two of you shared.
Your hands scramble to find purchase, trying to save yourself from falling on Steven. One hand slots against his hip, but the other unfortunately lands right on Steven’s stomach, punching the air out of him and making him yelp.
“I’m so sorry,” you apologize, immediately crawling off him.
“It’s my fault,” Steven quickly says. “I just got a little…”
“Excited?” You can’t help but give a playful smirk, sending another flush across his cheeks.
“A bit, yeah,” he laughs. Once the two of you are settled back onto the couch, he asks, “Do you…want to sit in on my phone call? Give it a test run?”
The call with his mom. The person he wants to introduce you to, like showing off your sugar mommy to your actual mom is something people do on the regular.
But still, you say, “I’d love to. But don’t feel like you have to just because I’m here.” You can think about what this all means later, after the vacation. For now, you’ll enjoy spending time with Steven as he shares this piece of himself with you.
“I want you here,” Steven says without looking up from his phone, already pressing the button to call his mom.
“Voicemail,” he announces, sounding disappointed. He puts the phone on speaker anyway. “She travels a lot, so I shouldn’t be surprised that she doesn’t answer all my calls.”
You notice the message is just the default one, not even giving his mother’s name. Odd, but maybe she doesn’t know how to add it. Or maybe she just doesn’t care.
“Hello, mum!” Steven says brightly once the recording starts. “I’m here with my friend.” He says your name and motions for you to speak.
Unsure what to say, you end up repeating, “Hello, mum!”
It’s awkward, and you mentally kick yourself for letting that slip out—she’s certainly not your mother—but Steven only smiles.
“You won’t believe this town she’s taken me to in Germany. Have you ever been?”
You haven’t been in bed for long when you hear your door creak open. Looking over, you see someone hovering in the doorway.
“Steven?” you call, confused.
“Sorry. Did I wake you?” he asks, stepping just a foot inside the room. He’s in his pajamas—a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants.
“It’s fine. I haven’t even gotten the chance to fall asleep yet. Is something wrong?” You sit up, squinting at him in the dark. The only light streams through the windows from the full moon outside.
“Can I…sleep in here? With you?” He’s hesitant, and his shoulders are tense. Already prepared for rejection, yet persisting despite it.
Your heart starts beating a little faster. You’ve been together for a while now, but Steven has always slept in his bed whenever he stayed at your apartment. The most you’ve ever done is take cat naps curled up together on the couch.
While you’re sure Steven doesn’t intend on anything beyond actual sleeping, this is still new territory for the two of you.
“Of course you can, baby,” you say, perhaps sounding a little too eager as you flip the sheets open on the empty side of the bed.
When you look up, Steven is already at the side of the bed, ready to climb in. As you both settle in, facing each other, you’re tempted to ask what prompted this sudden desire to share a bed with you, but you hold off for now. You can ask in the morning.
“Your bonnet is nice,” Steven says softly as he looks you over. The pattern is nothing fancy, simply various leaves rendered in watercolor and printed onto the silk.
“Oh, thank you,” you laugh a little. He’s never seen you in it before. You only put it on when you’re in bed and take it off before you leave your bedroom when he’s over. “I’ll get you a matching one if you’d like.”
“You think it would suit me?” he asks, a playful smile on his face.
“I do. It might also help with your bedhead in the morning.” Steven’s curls are always a sight first thing in the morning before he gets ready for the day.
Steven laughs. “You’ll have to tell me why it’s such a good idea tomorrow, and I’ll think about it.”
Then, his hand moves around under the sheets. You’re confused, unsure of what he’s trying to do, until his hand bumps into yours.
Understanding now, you move your hand so he can hold it more easily.
“Night, love,” Steven sighs, closing his eyes, a small, lingering smile still on his face.
“Sweet dreams, baby.”
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#moon knight x reader#steven grant x reader#marc spector x reader#moon knight fanfic#x reader#sugar series
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What do you think is the story with JD?
It looks like he is Ns bf, but that does not make sense on so many levels.
To say he is there to distract from something else going on e.g. a relationship of LN does not make an awful lot of sense either. Honestly, apart from the fandom nobody would care, especially not in the industry, whether they are together or not. And she could have just gone to NY alone of L and here were not ready to be out yet.
What are your thoughts on JDs role in this saga?
Ok here is where I am at with everything after the last week and a half...
First let me lay out what we got from L/N last week:
L/N obviously agreed to the post with L at her place as she's getting ready with a ring on his ring finger (they are both smart and know the fandom, they knew we would notice). People can argue all they want about those hands... I've stared at L's hands a LOT this year! Those are L's hands in the pic with N getting ready. Period.
N now has her claddagh on the left hand, which signifies marriage or engagement if worn in the traditional manner (which N appears to do with this claddagh). It's not on the ring finger, but has moved to the left hand, which is significant.
There was a video circulating early last week that included a small clip of a voice of a man that MAYYY have been L in the audience while N was presenting at the Glamour Awards.
L shared the October 3rd Polin meme with Xx (indicating he's a lot more online than we think and knows what we are talking about)
Less than 24 hrs later we get the Brb story at the Heathrow Airport with the two sets of carry-on luggage and two cups. L DOES NOT POST STUFF LIKE THIS LATELY. It was a TOTAL change in behavior.
L/N 100% coordinated those travel posts to indicate they're going to NY together on a "vacation" around her award and the BRB was a tease about SOMETHING and it appears to be related to him and N based on the coordinated posts.
Now here are my next points:
L/N have given us a lot of crumbs before, but last week was VERY obvious and intentional... so it made significant implications that something was planned on the NY trip, and we all had expectations that we would see L with N.
But THEN... all we have seen is N with JD (who tbf we've seen her with at various points throughout the summer).
N was BIG MAD about the hand holding video coming out and had her team ON IT with scrubbing and untagging the video.
Douglas is the only other person other than N who has said anything criticizing the fan for sharing the video.
So I will say this...
I'm VERY confused about how JD plays into this story... I don't actually think they are dating because of everything else that has signaled L/N are currently together (ESPECIALLY the rings and the very obvious clues last week). However, the hand holding video is not exactly a great look (and N and her team are normally soooo good at avoiding this stuff). It seems like a rookie mistake from N and her team, which just seems odd to me 🤔
I'm not sure why L/N implied they took this NY trip together (which I think they did and I feel very confident that L is somewhere in NY with N) if L/N WEREN'T planning to be seen together on the trip. The trip might not be done yet, so maybe they have something planned AFTER the Time event, but it's just weird to me 🤔 I have some theories on what might be going on BTS with L/N that might be complicating the situation, but I am going to hold on to those rn. But even with my theories, it doesn't make any sense to me why they don't just go public atp, especially since they have been teasing about it, PARTICULARLY last week 🤔
Lastly, I'm soooooo tired of the teasing! AND it's time for L to BRB now. Come on back Lukey...
So there you go. I don't have ANY idea what their plan was with the coordinated travel stories. I also have NO idea what role JD plays in all this... I don't think they're dating though. And I hope L follows up on his BRB story ASAP, and it's 100% obvious he's with N... we shall see... it's all very confusing tbh 🤷♀️
#Time to BRB L#TEASE#lukola theories#just my thoughts#I'm feeling a bit frustrated#But I'm still sat#🚢
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pls create clingy tom fluffs
ᡣ𐭩 clingy tom while sick
it was two in the afternoon, you lay in bed. you put down your phone in hopes that the throbbing headache you’ve had since last night went away. you caught a cold most likely from staying out clubbing, maybe you shouldn’t have taken that stranger’s drink.
asswipe, you thought, who goes to the club sick?
“baby?? you awake? i’m back!” you hear a shout from afar with the noises of a door shutting and the rustling of plastic bags. with the shuffling of shoes assumingely being taken off, your boyfriend enters your bedroom of your parents house. they’re out on vacation and agreed to let tom stay in the meanwhile.
his face immediately drops when he sees you in your state. tissues everywhere, eye bags accompanied your face, your nose was suuuper red, which was really embarrassing but tom thought that was cute.
sweating, many blankets lay top of you as this was his way of making you feel better by letting you ‘sweat it out.’
“oh schatzi look at you, and you insisted we go out today!” he sets down the bags gently near the foot of your bed, sitting down on the mattress that dips with his weight, “tom! it’s okay! we can still go out just let me take a hot steaming shower and get ready quickly—i wanna go see that movie,” he shakes his head at you and pushes you back down to lie down as you attempt to get up.
he ruffles the head on top of your head, “as much as i love you and i wish we can go out, you’re in no state to..” he lays his head on your legs, the plush blanket cushioning him even further. “but tom—“ “no baby! i’m not letting you get up until you’re one hundred percent better, yeah?” he now grabs one of your hands to play with your fingers, admiring how they look.
you scoff, he’s being awfully stubborn for someone who can’t seem to not touch you.
“tom! get up please! i don’t want you getting sick,” “i’m not moving, your lap is comfortable.. i thought you weren’t even sick,” he snorts. rolling your eyes, you sniffle, feeling your nose becoming runny, you reach to grab a tissue to blow your nose.
“don’t get up. i’ll do it,” he gets up as fast as his body lets him and grabs a tissue from the box on your bedside table. holding the tissue up to your nose, you blow, he pinches the tissue to catch all that came out. “better?” he asks, you nod obligingly.
that was pretty nasty but oh well whatever floats his boat i guess.
he then bends down to grab something from the bag, opening the lid, he shakes a pill into his hand. “take this, i know you don’t like these but i at least got the strawberry flavour you liked,” you pouted, staring at him.
ingesting the pill, he quickly holds the glass of water to your mouth to drink it. knowing that pills are particularly hard for you to take, he knows that by drinking water after conditions your body to take it in easier.
the pill was sweet, yet the flavour that lingered on your tongue was only for a second being washed by the water.
he kisses the side of your cheek, “good job pretty,” tom began taking of his sweater and swiftly entered the bed to cuddle beside you. “um hello? do you not remember what current state i’m in?” moving your head a bit, his arm snakes under the side of your neck to hold you closer to him, “relax i’m not going to get sick, you baby, just let me hold you.”
“wow cannot get enough of me huh, after the way you were dancing with me last night?” “you were super hot that night couldn’t help my self, plus, i’m only doing this because you’re weak and cute,” you scoff, is he serious? “yeah right.”
he laughs at you and just kisses your forehead, you then peak down to look at the many things he bought from his little trip. they were all your favourite snacks. medicines, tea bags, oh, and more medicine.
on a side note, being the twin who was basically immune and had to always take care of fragile bill, he has a known habit to panic and instead of asking for help, his stubborn ass buys everything in the store, gambling on which medicine to take and hoping for the best.
luckily for you, he had bill to teach him properly which ones to buy, but habits never die do they?
now you weren’t hungry or feeling snackish, so you just lay with tom, nuzzling your head into his chest. he’s warm, warm and comfortable, and you’re so grateful to have someone like him.
kissing the top of your forehead, he switches on your TV to put on a show the two of you both like. “i’m feeling better already,” “i’m glad baby, you’ll be back to shape in no time, well, because of me of course!”
that whole day, tom would not leave your side. even when you had to go to the bathroom. he’d sit inside the room until you finished and would wash your hands for you.
he says that the joint effort of doing it with you gets rid of the germs better.
this was just his excuse to keep touching you in some sort of way.
you enter the room with a bucket of cold water and a towel. setting it down, you soak the towel into the basin and ring out any excess. folding the towel to fit, you place the now cold compress onto tom’s forehead who’s laying in your bed.
“i told you, silly, that you’d get sick.” you shake your head in disapproval to see tom frown. he looks up at you even though it’s hard for him to keep his eyes open. now we did say tom barely ever gets sick, but once in a blue moon when he does, hits him HARD.
“what can i say? i can never get enough of you, need to be with you all the time,” “you’re corny,” “and you love it.”
#tokio hotel#tokio hotel x you#tokio hotel x reader#tokio hotel fluff#tom kaulitz#tom kaulitz x y/n#tom kaulitz x you#tom kaulitz x reader#tom kaulitz fluff#2000s#bill kaulitz
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🌈 + jack + red 😁😁🥰
eee yay my new love 🥰 (with an appearance by my current hyperfixation we love to see it)
warnings: minor injury, blood, not even close to a drabble (I cut out quite a bit, full Jack fic coming soon)
Your digital signature has been accepted, the hands shook and photos taken. Starting next year, you'll be driving full time for Mercedes. You're still in a daze as you make your way through the motorhome to George's room to tell him the news that no one else can know. His face creases in a delighted grin and his hug nearly cracks a few ribs.
"We're going to cause so much trouble next year," he says, still grinning as he takes a selfie with you to send to Carmen, who you know will be calling you soon to scream with excitement. No one's supposed to know until the official announcement during Singapore weekend, so of course everyone already knows, and after your call with Carmen you're smiling and nodding to everyone congratulating you as you make your way to the Alpine garage.
Esteban's excitement matches George's, and you agree to get drinks together soon with the gang before crossing the garage to where Jack's lying on his back under the car. Mechanics are with him and you lean against the wall to wait patiently while they talk about a setup for the coming race. One thing you've always admired about Jack is his serious intent to know everything about the cars inside and out. The first time you met him he'd been reassembling his new kart and had given you a toothy grin while explaining he had to know how it worked to know how to make it work. You'd sat next to him and asked him what one part did and he'd slammed his finger with his wrench.
You smile now at the memory of him, lanky and grinning like a dork. Your crush developed immediately, and even now after all these years you still have a crush on the man. You blink and the lanky kid is gone, replaced by a man with the same toothy grin unfolding his tall frame.
"There's my girl."
Augh. My girl. Those words will never not make you grin and blush and feel like a princess in a fairy tale getting her happily ever after. You push away from the wall, eyes on him, your spatial awareness completely gone because your only focus is on him, your very own Flynn Rider Eugene Fitzherbert. "Hey babe, I--"
Your grand announcement is cut off by a very un-princesslike curse word as you trip over a mechanic's foot. That spectacular superhuman reaction time that Toto loves to tout when he's talking about you? On vacation while you pitch forward, your arm catching on the car's rear wing.
"Cocksucking, motherfucking - fuck," you groan once Jack's helped you upright. Your arm feels numb but you can feel the blood already seeping through the sleeve of your shirt.
"No no no don't look," Jack murmurs but you're already twisting in his hold, stretching out your arm to see the crimson stain spreading.
"It's just a scratch," you promise weakly.
Ten minutes later you're in the medical center, watching the towel Jack had pressed to the cut slowly turn red as the team gets everything ready. It's more than a cut, you're gonna need stitches, and Jack sits next to you, pale and wringing his hands.
"When we get married I'm wrapping you in bubble wrap," he mumbles, rubbing at the drying blood on his fingers.
"It's fine," you insist. "I've had worse..."
He groans, looking even paler. "Don't remind me, please."
You're fine. He's a wreck. It's always like this. When he's had a minor injury you were the one fretting like a mother hen. When you had covid he was coming up with all sorts of home remedies to take care of every symptom.
"If you're this bad over a little cut how are you gonna be when I have a baby?" The words come out unfiltered and he slumps back with a whimper.
"We're adopting," he manages.
You can only giggle, startling the medics as they begin stitching your wound. "Deal."
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hello!! i love you all so much (platonic) and appreciate the work you do. do you have any recs where one/both of the ineffable husbands/wives is getting out of a relationship and goes to the other for comfort and maybe realizes they've been in love with them the whole time? thanks so much <333333
Here are some break-up friends-to-lovers fics for you...
I'm All Yours by FeralTuxedo (E)
Anthony J. Crowley knew he looked like a walking mid-life crisis. The tight jeans, half-up bun and sunglasses positively screamed ‘I left my wife for the babysitter and bought a vintage car just to feel alive again.’ In an adaptation of his life, he’d be played by Hugh Grant. He looked like a divorcee desperate for action, and it didn’t help that he was currently standing outside a nightclub surrounded by drunk twenty-year-olds. But Crowley wasn’t here for a good time tonight. He was on a rescue mission. Crowley has been rescuing his friend Aziraphale over and over again for a decade. Hopelessly in love, ready to jump at a moment’s notice when he was needed. When Aziraphale finally breaks up with his partner, Crowley is there to help him through what’s looking to be one hell of a mid-life crisis. Things could finally change. If he manages not to mess it up again. A human AU with a whole forest’s worth of pining squeezed into a single day.
…And They Were Roommates by Mimsynims (E)
“You know… I just remembered that Richard and I were going away for a few days next month.” Something devious came over him. “Richard paid for it, but the booking is in my name.” Crowley quickly caught on to what he was getting at. “Ooh, I see. That’s convenient.” He grinned. “For us." When Aziraphale's boyfriend Richard (Dick) breaks up with him, he and his roommate Crowley hijacks an intended couples' vacation and uses it for themselves. Lines that had started to blur even before their trip gets even more blurry - which perhaps isn't the best thing when both are hiding a crush on the other (and communication isn't their strong suit).
Ezra at the Wedding by tenandi (E)
Ezra's ex is moving on but he's determined to stop the wedding. With his handsome neighbor masquerading as his new love interest, will he win back his true love and rewrite the happy ending he deserves? - Crowley was leaning against the doorframe, obviously hungover and running on about two hours of sleep. A ripped t-shirt hung off one shoulder over a pair of boxers with devil ducks printed all over them. To top it all off, he was wearing black velvet slippers embroidered with his monogram. In any other instance, Ezra would have laughed but he was too busy being wrapped up in his anguish. “What do you want, Crowley?” Ezra fumed. “I am having a moment here!”
You are HoMe (Half of Me) by angelsnuffbox (T)
Aziraphale had gotten dumped, plain and simple. But that small detail wasn’t nearly as important as all the things that happened after he’d gotten dumped - such as coming to a few realisations about his best friend of sixteen years.
Hooped Earrings by OfEden (E)
After 29 years Azira comes out. While her family and ex boyfriend don't support her, her life long best friend is there by her side every step of the way.
Crawling Back To You by madrabbitwrites (NR)
College-age Aziraphale pushed his closest friend away and moved out of town with his married Literature professor in a panicked attempt at escaping his family’s rampant homophobia. Years later, devastated by a dreadful break-up, he’s returned to his small hometown to live with his brother and attempt to heal his broken heart (and broken life, if he were being honest with himself). What he didn’t count on was his old friend Crawley- now calling himself Crowley and looking dashing as ever- to have returned as well. Crawley’s wounds from their last argument are deep and Aziraphale may never be able to regain what they once had, but he’d certainly like to try. The two of them need to have an actual conversation, but that’s not really how these plots go, is it?
- Mod D
#good omens#ineffable husbands#ineffable wives#break up#friends to lovers#adult omens#human au#mod d
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Memories
Any! Slytherin boy x Reader
Everyone told you from the beginning that he was bad news. That he would only want one thing and then leave you in the dust.
Somehow, deep down you feared what they were saying would come true.
That he would just leave you standing there with a broken heart.
But it never happened.
Even during arguments, he wouldn't even yell at you.
Instead, every day, he would make sure to tell you that he loves you. That you are his one and only. He always tells you just how beautiful you are.
He would make sure that you were always smiling, always happy.
And now here you were, years and years later, still completely in love.
You wanted to laugh into the faces of those people who ever doubted him.
And you might just get the opportunity.
You received a letter a couple of days ago about an event held at Hogwarts.
They sent out letters to old students asking them to come and visit during the summer vacation.
It would be a one-day trip.
Of course, you and your husband agreed to go as your parents were happy to look after your children.
You smiled as you saw the old train. Everything just brought back so many memories.
Your face hurt from all the smiling.
Your husband had his arms around you all day, he too recalled many many memories. Especially one under a very special tree.
"This is where we kissed for the first time." he said as you walked over to the tree, turning and smiling at you as you walked over to him.
Much like how it happened back then, you pulled him down by his collar and placed a kiss on his lips.
"I remember very well. We had an argument and I stormed off to here, you followed me because you weren't done with talking." you smiled at the memory.
"And you pulled me down to shut me up with a kiss." he nodded, also recalling the events.
You had an amazing time looking around the castle.
The library brought back memories when you tried to study but he just kept staring at you.
Then during dinner, you caught up with many of your old friends.
You learned many of them worked for the Ministry. And even more, were surprised that you two were still together.
"Yes, almost ten years of marriage and four years of dating." you confirmed.
"Oh, wow. We would have never thought that you... would marry her."
"Who did you think I would marry then?" he asked as you just ate in silence.
"No one. You were always..."
"Yeah, well I love my wife and children so. Of course, I would marry her."
"Oh, you have children as well?" asked someone else by the table.
"Of course," it was now your time to speak. "We have four, but this one wants more." you pointed at your husband. "We have three girls and two boys."
"Oh, do they come here to school?"
"Yes, they are. Two of our girls are twins so they are currently third years, another of our girl will start school next year and our two boys were born six months ago. Twins again." you explained as everyone around you looked rather impressed.
"My daughter also comes here. Which house are yours in?"
"Slytherin, just like their father." you said with a very proud tone even if you could see the people around you sharing looks.
Whose idea was it to sit not at the Slytherin table?
Oh, right, yours.
Well, anyway.
You shared a look with your husband, calming him with a quick kiss before you turned to listen to other people talking about their families and achievements.
After dinner, you were all ready to leave, you smiled as you two headed back to the train, looking back all at the nice memories you kissed your husband before boarding the train.
Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS
#draco malfoy imagines#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy x reader#Mattheo Riddle x reader#Mattheo Riddle x you#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle imagines#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow imagine#sebastian sallow imagines#ominis gaunt x reader#ominis gaunt imagine#ominis gaunt imagines#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x you#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott imagines#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fanfic#harry potter imagine#harry potter imagines#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#x fem reader#Regulus Arcturus Black x reader#regulus black x reader#regulus black imagine#regulus black imagines
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SUMMERIZE 𝄖 Lee Juyeon.ᅟ(preview + synopsis)
Pairing: Female!Reader + Lee Juyeon.
Genre: Summer romance, non-idol AU, friend of friends ig, smut, angst, friends to lovers, sorta lovers to enemies and enemies to lovers again, also has fluff and some comedy.
Warnings: None for yet, because this is only the preview + synopsis! But there will be smut and heavy themes in the full story. You must be ready.
Word count: 613.
Autor's note: After practically a year and a half without writing anything or setting foot on this social network, here I am again. I wanna make a taglist in the future, eventually, in case people show interest, but I don't really know how that works 'cause I'm newbie. Let's see. Hope y'all enjoy anyways!
Release date: ???.
ᅟ
Since you agreed to participate in this summer car-beach-trip planned mostly by your best friend, Yizhuo, you've had the opportunity to meet her group of friends. Or, in this case, almost everyone.
Supposedly, including you, the group is made up of eight people: Yizhuo, Cocona, Shuhua, you, Sunwoo, Eric, Kevin and... The Juyeon guy. You met everyone at the meeting point before the trip, except Juyeon. You also don't remember seeing him chat in the chat group that Yizhuo created for the trip called Summerize. He's still a mystery to those eyes of yours.
Even though you tend to lean towards introversion as an ambivert, you were pleasantly surprised by how well you fit in the group. Everyone welcomed you warmly, and you were really looking forward to this much-needed vacation. After finishing your final year of university and graduating, you made a deal with your aunt Jinae, who you currently live with, to take six months off to make up for the last few summers lost to rigorous studies before starting your first job.
Yizhuo thought this was the perfect opportunity to put the car trip plan into practice, and now here you are. Unloading your bags from their cars and setting up their tents on the beach of a neighboring city, which you are visiting for the very first time.
“Y/N! Can you go get the pillows in Sunwoo's car?” As you were assisting your bestfriend with setting up her tent, you could hear Shuhua's cheerful voice resonating in the background. She's Sunwoo's girlfriend and one of Yizhuo's closest friends. “They're stored in a large bag near the backseats!”
“Of course! Ningning, I'll be right back. Is that okay?” You wanted to make sure your bestfriend could manage her beach tent alone, and she nodded in response to you with a soft smile planted on her gorgeous face. And with her approval, you then headed towards Sunwoo's car.
All the doors were already open, which was natural since the cars were used to transport everyone's suitcases and belongings during the journey on the roads. Remembering Shuhua's directions, you casually approached the door on the right side of the backseats, and you bent over to get into the car.
At the exact moment you bent down, the tall, well-sculpted body of a boy who was lying down gets up to leave the vehicle. And suddenly, in a matter of less than one minute, you were face to face with the Juyeon guy.
There were just mere millimeters of distance between your faces while your wide eyes barely blinked, the shock on your body not allowing you to move at all.
You were, indeed, pretty much surprised. His symmetrical features were absolutely divine, his tanned skin appeared to be very well cared for. And the feline orbs that held yours practically paralyzed any possible movement on your part.
Lee Juyeon was beautiful. More than that, Lee Juyeon was hot.
You're not sure how many seconds, or even minutes, have passed since you were staring at him in awe, accidentally blocking his way out of Sunwoo's car. And you only realized you were staring when you heard his voice for the very first time.
“Cat got your tongue? ”
You could feel your face burning, and it was impossible to use an excuse like the heat of the sun at that time. After all, you had arrived at the beach from your trip with them at dinner time.
But oh, if only you could guess what's behind this story that's about to unfold...
#the boyz smut#the boyz scenarios#juyeon smut#juyeon scenarios#smut#angst#non idol au#juyeon#the boyz#friends to lovers#enemies to lovers#kpop smut#kpop scenarios#ningning#shuhua#cocona
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May you please write a Yoongi imagine, doesn’t matter what the premise is, I just want a fluffy husband Yoongi<3!!!🫶🏼
Sure Thing!
Title: I've Got It From Here
Rating: G
Warning(s): Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Yoongi's Accident, Talks of PTSD, Anxiety, and yes there will be FLUFF.
Author's Note: I hope you all enjoy! Keep the requests comin!
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He doesn't know what triggered it, really. Maybe it was sleeping on it wrong? Maybe it was the cold weather of Seattle, where he was touring currently? Maybe it was performing so hard every night?
No matter the real cause, this morning Yoongi woke with a stiff shoulder and a tightness in his chest like he usually got when experiencing this pain. It's like with the pain came the memories, came the flashbacks of the tire...
Yoongi shuts his eyes, wanting to push the image away. Days like this convinced him that he, indeed, was not over the past. But he had to be. For the fans, for the sake of the tour, and more importantly, for you.
You had finally gotten a free schedule to come visit your husband on tour and Yoongi would be damned if this trip was ruined by his damn shoulder. Damnit.
And so, with a deep breath, and slight wince, Yoongi got out of bed and proceeded to get ready to meet you at the airport.
********************************
It's all a rush of cameras and screaming fans and the flash, God the flash. It was broad daylight, why the hell did they need the flash on?!
And then as quickly as it's all too much for him, it becomes background noise the second your arms wrap around him. And he bears the pain so he can hold you back as you laugh in pure delight at being back in your husband's arms.
"God, this feels good..." You laugh happily as you snuggle more into his chest, kissing his shoulder softly as usually, and Yoongi bites back a soft hiss.
"Tell me about it..." He sighs softly as he puts his face in your hair, breathing in your scent with a deep and full whiff. You'd never know how much he needed this. Needed you. He felt calmer already.
"Let's go! I've been looking forward to this for weeks!" You laugh as you hold his arm while bouncing towards baggage claim. Yoongi stiffens and shuts his eyes. You pause instantly. "Baby?" You ask in concern.
"I-I'm good." He says fast. "Didn't get enough sleep last night." He says. You'd been hard at work these past few months while he's been gone. This was your vacation. And he was not going to ruin that. He could take it. He could endure. The smile on your face would be worth it.
********************************
As soon as you're settled in the hotel room, you're dragging Yoongi around the hotel and find a display of activity brochures. You gush over the different restaurants, museums, and live concerts they have this week. You playfully hold up a 'Folklore Concert in the Park' pamphlet. "Maybe you'll get inspiration for the next album..." You joke and he smiles a thin lipped smile.
"Maybe. Do a whole country folklore album. Hat, boots, and horse." He teases along and you giggle as you nudge him. He holds his arm when you're not looking and when you gasp, he straightens up.
"Festival! Winter Festival! Happening tonight. We can go, right? It's ok?" You ask hopefully as you look up at your husband with the same big eyes that always get him.
He looks you in the eyes. Getting lost in them was better than any coping mechanism. You were the best distraction and anxiety reducer. How could you not know how much those eyes meant to him? He finally hums. "I think we can stop by, look around..." He gives in softly.
"This is gonna be the best vacation ever!" You giggle and hug him tightly. He squeezes his eyes to stop the tears. "I love you!" You giggle and he lets out a soft sigh. "I love you..." He whispers.
****************************
Later that evening, you're led into the Winter Festival that was taking place at some park by a river. Families, couples, and groups of friends of all ages are running around. Christmas lights adorned the trees, and the freshly laid snow on the ground looked like something out of a movie.
You're wearing a casual outfit with your sweater and one of Yoongi's leather jackets with fur inside of it on top. Layers were the most important thing in the winter, so you didn't mind the wool hat and scarf you were nuzzled in. Yoongi holds your hand to the best of his ability, but the cold weather and the heavy winter coat was not helping. And the scarf around his neck felt like a noose.
And, oh my god, was he breathing? When was his last breath? This coat was so damn heavy. He couldn't focus on what you were sayin-wait. You were speaking?
He finally blinks, trying to focus on you as you joke about the huge inflatable decorations. "They'd look good in front of our place. Of course, I think if we ever posted our house looking like this, Taehyung would be the first to mock us for it." You giggle as you enjoy the 'Winter Wonderland' aesthetic.
Yoongi hums and you eye him a bit. Something was wrong with your husband. You could feel it in your heart. He'd been quiet the whole day. Barely eating, barely laughing. He was deep in his own thoughts. Something that only happened when he was either thinking of a new song, or when his anxiety got really bad.
You grip his hand a bit firmer to try and ground him, but he barely reacts. You finally move in front of him and stop, causing him to bump into you. He curses at the suddenness, and you watch him in concern.
"Yoongi..." You try as you make him look at you. "I'm fine." He says fast. "You want... Decorations." He says to prove he's been paying attention, but his voice comes out in soft pants. His skin is pale, his lips are trembling, his eyes show the panic in his head.
"Baby. Stay here, I'm gonna get you something to drink." You say fast before you walk off, pulling out your phone to check the time and to see if you could text the driver to come around for you two.
You're busy on your phone and Yoongi watches you walk away but is thrown further into his panic when he sees a black car swerve around the corner to enter the parking lot. The same parking lot you were about to cross to get to the refreshments table.
Flashes of that day runs through his mind as he takes off after you. "Y/N!" He screams in horror. You stop in your tracks and turn fast to face him with wide eyes. He grabs your arm and yanks you out of the street as the car full of teenagers speeds past.
"What is the matter with you?! You didn't see that car?! It could have-" You cut Yoongi off as you try and get him to focus, but he continues his panicked rambles. "I won't lose you. I won't lose you." He repeats fast, over and over again as you grab his face hard.
"Baby!" You say finally and his bottom lip begins to quiver a bit as he looks at you. His walls, his prideful stubbornness, his 'don't worry about me' attitude... it all crumbles down right in front of your eyes. You stroke his cheeks gently. "What's wrong, baby?" You whisper as tears slowly slide down his puffy cheeks that are pink from the cold.
"It hurts." He finally admits and your heart breaks as the realization dawns on you.
"I've got you, baby..." You sigh and carefully pull in his 5-foot 9 frame like he's the smallest thing. "I've got you..." You sigh as you nod at security to lead you two away.
****************************
"Ah... Ah... Ow!" Yoongi groans as you focus on putting some muscle relaxer cream on his shoulder and then wrapping it, so the lidocaine cream doesn't get anywhere else.
"Why didn't you tell me? You could've really made the pain worse..." You whisper as you carefully lay him back on a pile of pillows to hopefully help him rest.
"This was supposed to be your vacation..." He whispers and you sigh deeply. "If you weren't already hurt, I'd hurt you for being so dumb. This was our vacation. And it's not a good one if you're in pain. Marriage is a give and take game, Yoongi." You say.
"Yeah, 50/50..." He mutters and you roll your eyes. "No. Not 50/50. Sometimes it's 70/30. Sometimes it's 40/60. But the whole point of this arrangement is we take turns. You're always all in. Give me a chance to show I can be the 80 in this relationship and go down to 20." You say as you stroke his hair out of his face. He shuts his eyes at that.
"I don't want you getting tired of carrying me around..." He whispers and you stroke his soft skin before leaning in. "These shoulders can carry whatever your shoulders can't. Gladly. Any day of the week..." You whisper as you gently nudge your nose with his.
He looks into your eyes, his eyes teary. "You're not there anymore..." You whisper, knowing where his mind was. He closes his eyes, saying nothing, but nodding along.
You play with his hair a bit more and watch as he slowly starts to relax. "Rest, baby. I've got it from here..." You promise gently as he drifts off to sleep.
*****************************************
Hope you liked it!
#min yoogni#yoongi#yoongi x reader#yoongi fanfic#yoongi imagine#bts suga#suga#suga x reader#suga imagine#bts imagine
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Hazbin Hotel Beach Trip! Headcanons ;)
Characters: Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, Angeldust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Vox, Lucifer, Adam, and Cherri Bomb
A/N: Y'all guess who's already ready for summer to start? These are gonna be my first headcanons, I had so much fun creating them, enjoy <3
Charlie 🐐🫶
The optimistic Princess of Hell loooves going to the beach
Growing up in the sweltering armpit of Hell has caused her to love the heat, but also crave the refreshing coolness of the salty ocean
Has so much fun slashing in the waves and dragging a resistant Vaggie into the water with her
“Come on Vaggie, it will be so FUUNNNNN, ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh”
Brings all sorts of fun toys and trinkets to play with at the beach
Volleyball, beachball, speaker, sand castle buckets and shovels, floaties, and a surf board
Is currently struggling to learn how to surf, but is determined to get good at it
Wears the most extravagant, tropical, neon pink swimsuit
Would definitely start an epic game of Marco Polo with the others
Her competitive nature would cause the game to escalate quickly into a war-like battle
Will be in a good mood for the next couple of days because she is so grateful that she can go to the beach with her friends and experience this mini vacation
Vaggie ❌🥀
Vaggie is very much like a cat in water, she is practically hydrophobic
Has a thick layer of sunscreen, the largest sunglasses and sun hat, and will only stay underneath an umbrella
Stands in the sand with her arms cross refusing to get even a drop of water on her
Is wearing one of those scuba gear under suits, all black stretching down her arms and legs so that if water does get on her it doesn’t actually touch her skin
If someone tries to drag her into the ocean, the ex-angel grounds her feet into the sand, taking a battle stance, and threatens to gouge out their eyes
Unlessss it’s Charlie
For Charlie she will do anything
Despite her disdain for the water, watching Charlie have fun splashing in the waves causes a slight smile to form on her face, cracking her previous resting bitch face
Will go as far as to build sand castles and catch tiny crabs for Charlie so that she can please her
Tries helping her learn how to surf but is also is terrible at it
Alastor 🦌📻
Alastor originally said he wasn’t going to go on this beach trip, yet somehow was found already lying on a beach chair by the time everyone arrived at the beach
Is wearing a Hawaiian T-shirt and red trunks
Brought a mini radio to drown out Charlie’s obnoxiously loud speaker, although ends up being isolated since no one else wants to listen to his old-time corny jazz music
Even though it’s lowkey a vibe
Actually prefers to have this new 50 feet radius of isolation, although Vox sometimes will sneak up on him to kick sand at him
Goes full on Radio Demon mode causing Vox to freeze in fear and slowly back up back to the rest of the group
Doesn’t go into the water and instead spends his time sunbathing to brainstorm evil masterplans like taking over Hell and ruining Vox’s life
Will send his shadows to go check up on the others’ beach adventures but will stick to himself
Also uses this time to practice his singing, specifically to the song “We’ll Meet Again”
Angeldust 🕷️❤️🔥
Definitely is using his relaxation time to show off his new, sexy, hot pink thong
Is matching with Cherri and they’re serving cunt
Lies down on the towel in promiscuous poses to catch a certain grey cat’s eyes
Dances and makes choreographies with Cherri and Nifty to Charlie’s music
Snuck alcohol and drugs in that Charlie had to take away for the sake of “One normal vacation trip!”
“Aw come awn Charlie, a little fun never hurt no one”
Charlie does not buy this and refuses to let Angel turn this beach trip into something else
Walks along the beach shore to flirt with other beach goers and ends being a cheerleader for some hot hunks playing volleyball
Is dragged back to Charlie and the others by a very annoyed Husk
Husk 🐈⬛🍸
Being a cat, obviously is not a huge fan of the water
Really only went for the company of a certain spider
Keeps his eye on him underneath his dark sunglasses, making sure Angeldust doesn’t get into some serious trouble
Was the one who helped Angeldust sneak the alcohol in and argues with Charlie that she can’t take away the alcohol because it’s his
“Charlie I swear to Satan, you better not throw away my supply of alcohol that’s for the hotel” “Then why would you bring it here?” Husk is left dumbfounded and ends up chugging it all down ignoring Charlie’s protests
Drunk Husk tries to play volleyball with the others, ends up stumbling around and falls into the sand after being hit in the face with the ball
Drunk Husk also exposes his jealous nature and after he sees Angel flirting with the hunks he stomps over to drag a whiney Angel back
Sir Pentious 🐍🥚
Treats this trip as if it was a super important team mission, checking up constantly on the others and not resting until everything is perfect
Came to the beach in his blue soldier blazer and refuses to take it off even when swimming in case “a violent battle commences!”
Being a cold-blooded reptile, he ends up sunbathing for hours straight up raw: no sunscreen, no sunglasses, no umbrella or tent, bro is NOT afraid of a little sun
But is very much afraid of his Egg Bois boiling in the sun so as a precaution prior to the trip he engineered a clear cooler to fill with cold water that can drive around the beach kind of like a space rover
“My neeeeww invention called the Ultimate 360 Beach Sssimulator! allowsss for my Egg Boiss to sssee through the plexiglass walls and ssee their ssurroundings while sstimulating the wavessss of the ocean with cold water and hydro jetss! As well, there isss a waterproof joystick inside sso that they may maneuver wherever they pleasse!” “Thanks boss! I feel so relaxed and refreshed!” “Anything for my preciousss babiesss”
Can rest now that his Egg Bois are guaranteed to not cook in the sun
Being a snake he thinks it’s fun to pretend to be an electric eel and play pranks on the others
Specifically on Cherri
Until she decides to absolutely obliterate him and stomped on him slithering through the water
It hurt but he lowkey was into it 😉
Vox ⚡️📺
The beach is not exactly Vox’s thing, and no one understand why he tagged along on this beach trip
Being an actual TV, he begins to overheat and his screen starts glitching and flashing random colors (uh oh the TV’s buffering!)
He also can’t be in the water… because he is a LITERAL TV
This is the one time he feels insecure about himself because he is unable to do practically anything at the beach
Put on sunscreen? No, that would mess up his hardwire. Build sandcastles? No, the sand would clog up his cracks. Play volleyball? No, the ball might crack his screen.
At least he looked good, he specifically bought holographic trunks, although he only wore them for 20 minutes because had to leave early
Was so glad to be back in air conditioning and far away from any large body of water
Lucifer 🪽🐤
The King of Hell acts like the most stereotypical tourist at this tropical beach, my god
Is of course wearing a bright red and orange Hawaiian t-shirt with a pink lei hanging around his neck, and came with a digital camera to take photos of the whole experience
“We’re going to remember this forever! Everyone say Satan!” 📸
Brought a bunch of his rubber duckies to float with him in the ocean
This white as hell angel needs a whole three inch layer of sunscreen all over his body, and brought a whole ass tent which he magically set up in a flash with his “pure angelic poweeer”
Was the most excited to go on this trip and is already freaking out over the fact that there’s a snow cone truck by the shore
“I want to get a large one with Tiger’s Blood and watermelon syrup and—oh Charlie, look, they have a piña colada flavor too!”
It’s obvious Charlie gets her optimism from her father
Is running around the beach trying to do everything he could in the time that they had
Adam 🎸🤘
The first man is definitely living out his hot dilf summer
Brought beer and ends up hanging out with those hunks Angeldust was flirting with earlier
Has a cap on backwards, sunglasses, typical frat guy look, but is honestly looking pretty rad
Blaring rock from his boombox he dragged all the way to the beach
“LET’S PARTYYY!! WOOHOOOO”
Brought some fishing lines as well to catch fish with his fellow “bros” just for him to slack off and accidently have his line get snatched into the ocean by some strong fish
Could care less and is only here for a good time
Cherri Bomb 🍒💣
The bad ass Aussie sure knows how to have some fun at a beach
Has lots of practice back in Australia surfing, so is obviously a boss at this and throws her bombs in the ocean to create the most massive waves to ride on
Literally so cool, although she ends up nearly drowning everyone and it was at this point that Vox decided to leave
Is matching with Angeldust with her hot pink cunty bikini
Helped sneak in Angel’s flasks and stashed some drugs by hiding them inside her swimsuit bra
Is crazy energetic, has so much energy throughout this entire trip, that even afterwards on the car ride home she is belting songs at the top of her lungs
Yet when they arrive back at the hotel she is the first to pass out on the sofa
#hazbin charlie#hazbin husk#hazbin angel dust#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#hazbin art#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel edit#hazbin hotel fanart#vivziepop#radio killed the video star#huskerdust#angel dust x husk#husker hazbin hotel#angel dust#charlie morningstar#vaggie#lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer hazbin hotel#cherri bomb#cherri hazbin hotel#sir pentious#headcanon#beach#beachlife#beach babe#beach time#beach theme#surfing
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The Great Escape (Bungo Stray Dogs)
Hehe, thought there wasn't gonna be a fic today, did ya? >:D This is a sequel to "A New Kind Of Mystery"; I won't lie- originally I wasn't planning on writing one (do I ever plan sequels? Not really jlkrejarjeajraejkrjka) but after being encouraged by the ever wonderful @intheticklecloset here we are! :D I hope y'all like it!
Taglist Peeps:
@myreygn @thatbigbisexual29 @dirtpie39 @duckymcdoorknob @cupcake-spice13 @t-wordiiish @rachi-roo @chibisstuff @imjusthere07 @sevenincubistolemyheart
Summary: Poe's getting ready for his and Ranpo's vacation and makes the bold decision to leave his notebook behind. Surely he'll be fine without it, right?....Right?
“Oh…which should I bring?”
Poe was once again at a crossroad, brows furrowing as he looked between too well loved hardcovers. Ranpo and his holiday was just around the corner, and while the important things for their trip were already packed- if not a bit messy on his boyfriend’s end- he now had to decide on reading material.
“Gggggr?” Karl was curled up on the nearest suitcase, watching Poe stress with lazy eyes.
“I know I won’t be reading the entire time, Karl- I just want a few things for when things settle down.” He flipped the books over, scanning their synopsis. Oh, they both sounded good! And then there were those new books he recently purchased…
“Poe!” Fingers jabbed his sides, making him squeal with a spasm. “Surprise! I’m here!”
“R-Ranpo!” The author turned to his boyfriend, or at least tried to. Those dastardly fingers were still prodding and poking at his sides, making him curl up and giggle. “Rannananapo, pleahahhahase! Iihihih’m trihihihihying to pahahhahack!”
“Still? I thought you had everything?” The detective looked over his boyfriend’s shoulder as he kept on tickling, humming at the books. “Didn’t you read both of these like- several hundred kajillion times?”
“Huhuhuhush! Thehehehy’re clahahhahahssics!”
“Just like you! Hehehe!”
Poe felt his cheeks burn- a combination of the tickles and Ranpo’s teasing compliment. “Ahehahahahha Rahahahn!”
“Hehe, okay okay.” The detective released him. Soon after he grabbed both books, tossing them in Poe’s remaining suitcase. “When you can’t decide, bring both! That’s how I go about my snacks.”
“Hehe..heheh..I suhuhpose thahaht’s fahahair…” Pushing his bangs back, Poe reached to zip up his bag, pausing when Ranpo quirked a brow. “Whahat is it?”
“You’re not bringing it?” The detective asked. Poe knew instantly what he was talking about.
His go-to notebook; what he used to scribble down outlines and ideas for his next big mystery. It was rare for Poe to let it out of his sight- even rarer for him not to bring it.
Poe raised his chin, squaring his shoulders. “I’m not bringing it. I promised you a holiday, and I intend to keep it.” Nodding, he finished zipping his bag, finalizing his decision. “No working for me. Nope, none at all.”
“Are you sure?” Ranpo raised a skeptical brow. Poe hoped the smile on his lips wasn’t too frozen.
“Absolutely.”
Ranpo watched him closely before shrugging, reaching out and poking Poe some more. “Okay! In that case, let’s get this vacay started!”
“Rahahhan!”
~~~
“Look at that! Oh, and that! And that!” Ranpo was lying half-on top of him, nose and hands pressed into the foggy glass of their train compartment as they watched the scenery go by. Their destination was a cozy little cottage not far from the main attractions in Yokohama. The owner of said cottage was none other than Fukuzawa himself- only mildly panicked upon hearing Ranpo’s plan to “Find a cheap motel and pray.” It was a joke of course, but he insisted upon them taking it.
If anything, it guaranteed their safety. Though Poe wouldn’t be against the idea of a haunted hotel room…
“Poe, look! Look! Are you looking?” Ranpo’s gentle but insistent prodding brought him back to current time, turning his gaze out towards the pamphlet in his boyfriend’s hands. “They’ve got a zoo around where we’re heading! And lots of gardens and-” Ranpo went silent, eyes glued to the paper.
“What?” Poe couldn’t take the anticipation any longer!
“They have a cup noodle museum!” Ranpo all but breathed, eyes lighting up like a child on christmas. “Poe, we have to go! We have to! Cup noodles are the ultimate snack! The staple of childhood- are you laughing at me?”
Poe was in fact giggling in his hands, barely hiding a smile. “I'm sohohorry! I’m sohohrry- just; you’re so cute!” The author giggled against his shoulder, shaking with barely repressed mirth. “I nehehever knew how excited you were abohohut noodles!”
“As the god of snacks, I am mildly offended.” Ranpo replied, his deadpan expression breaking into a smile when Poe snorted. “As punishment, you get tickles!”
“Ah! Ahhehahahhahaha! Whahahit, wahhahahit- Rahhahahan! Whehehe’re in puhuhuhblic!” Poe squeaked, sinking as much as he could in his chair as he tried muffling the sound. Ranpo had decided to take full residence in his lap however- making it near impossible.
“Don’t worry- no one’s looking!” Ranpo teased in his ear, keeping his tickles just light enough to keep Poe snickering. “Even if they were, you’re cute! They’d love you.”
“Shuhuuhuhush! Aheahhahaha, Raahhahahan!” He squeaked, clinging to the detective’s jacket with barely any strength. He didn’t feel eyes on him, so Ranpo was speaking the truth.
Even if they were being watched, part of him simply didn’t care. Let them witness their love on this train going nowhere.
Huh- that’d be a good idea for a horror story. Two lovers on an endless train in limbo. He should write this down-
…Ah, right.
At some point Ranpo must have stopped, for when he came back to the Detective was once again reading his pamphlet, leaning into his shoulder and getting comfortable. Poe smiled, pressing a hand against his boyfriends.
He pretended the small ache in his chest was something else.
~~~
“CANON BALL!” Sheets and pillows flew everywhere as Ranpo landed in the bed, sprawling out like an octopus as he wiggled about. “This is the BEST! I’m so glad we came- that cup noodle exhibit was amazing!”
“It was rather..unique. Who knew there was so much to learn about snacks?” Poe smiled as he sat down, resting his aching feet. Their vacation seemed to fly by- the day they got there to now has been nothing but exploration and adventure. “I also enjoyed those racoon dogs- they reminded me of Karl.”
Said racoon made an assortment of clicking noises as it curled up against Poe’s pillow, snoozing once more. Ranpo grinned as he stroked his fur, cooing gently.
It was all so fun, and Poe was having a great time. However…somewhere deep down, he felt like such a failure.
Wherever he went, wherever he turned- he couldn’t turn off his brain from work. The sights and sounds of Yokohama’s beautiful gardens and zoos made him imagine the perfect settings for his books. The secrets within the city gave him inspiration for mysteries, and Ranpo…
Oh being with Ranpo made him think of a genre he never thought he’d write. Romance.
A hide and seek tale, maybe? A man is trying to find his lover but they’re so far away. He searches high and low, following the sound of their voice as it calls out to him playfully. He crosses the oddest of people and the most breathtaking sights to find them-
Everytime it happened he reached for his notebook, only to not find it there. It caused a small panic until he realized he left it home.
Then that panic turned to shame at how disappointed he felt not having it.
It was like a betrayal, only he was holding the knife aimed at Ranpo’s back.
“Poe?” Ranpo was standing before him now, brows furrowed. “Are you alright?”
The author blinked, suddenly unsure. “I…erm..”
“Poe?” Ranpo’s eyes widened suddenly, his hands reaching out to the other’s shoulders. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
Again, he wasn’t sure. It wasn’t until he blinked that he realized he was crying. “Ranpo…I’m failing you.”
“What? Come here, come here.” The detective pulled his boyfriend to his feet, leading him to the bed. Once there, he pulled him down, down, down some more until they were laying against the warm sheets, Ranpo’s arms around his torso as he pressed gentle kisses against his shoulder. “What do you mean?”
“I made you a promise, and yet- here I am breaking it. I promised you I wouldn’t work but yet- here I am longing to write. I shouldn’t be thinking about all that- I should be spending time with you.” Poe blinked a few times, willing the tears to dry. He shouldn’t be crying- he didn’t deserve to. “I’m sorry, Ranpo.”
The detective was quiet against him, the arms around Poe strong as ever. Then he was sitting up, just enough to look down at Poe’s face. His expression…
“You know what I love the most about you?” He asked, eyes soft and lips curved in the gentlest of smiles. “It’s that you care so much about others. You want to give them your best self, even if it comes at sacrificing yourself.” He reached up, gently brushing Poe’s long bangs from his forehead so he could look him in the eye. “I know you, Poe. I know you’ll never quite turn off your brain even when on vacation. I know you’ll always be thinking about books and stories and writing- and you know what? That’s okay. It’s a core part of you, and another part about you I love with my entire heart.”
Poe wanted to argue, but Ranpo pressed the softest of kisses against his cheek, silencing him.
“I love how your mind is constantly running on creativity. I love how you find inspiration in things I wouldn’t even think about. I love how you’re so devoted to the craft it becomes real.” Each statement came with another kiss, stamping them into Poe’s heart permanently. “I love the fact you willingly came with me on vacation. I love you walked through an entire noodle exhibit you likely didn’t care for just to make me happy. I just- I love you. Even if you’re thinking about books and whatnot- you’re here with me. You’re with me right now. That’s all I want.”
Poe couldn’t find words. His throat was constricted with a lump the size of a baseball as he looked into his boyfriend’s eyes. Even if he could speak, how was he supposed to voice how much he loved him? Words aren’t enough.
Instead, he breathed out a small “May I kiss you?”
Ranpo grinned, nodding. Poe pulled him down into himself as he kissed him, putting everything he felt into it. Warmth spread across his body, curling his toes and setting into the deepest crevices of his heart for all eternity.
Beneath his hands, he could feel Ranpo’s heart racing just as fast, syncing up with his own and playing the same melody.
When they pulled away, they were both slightly flushed and breathless, Ranpo’s eyes bright against dark hair. Poe reached up, gently brushing it out of his face with a small smile.
“Hey..I love you.” Poe whispered, making Ranpo light up.
“I love you too.” He fell back into Poe’s chest, snuggling his face into his chest with a content sigh. “We should go on holiday more often.”
“Definitely.” Poe surprised himself by saying it. He surprised himself even further with how real the words felt.
“Oh?” Ranpo sat up with a grin, fingers scritting against Poe’s belly. “Did I hear you right? You’re really enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”
“Aheheahahha! Oohohohof cohohohoure I ahahhaham! Ahehahaha- nohoohow you gehehehhet toohohoho!” With a boost of strength he didn’t realize he had, he managed to push Ranpo on his side, going for all the spots that he knew would have the detective squealing for mercy. “Tahhaek that!”
“AH! Aheahhahahhha, Pohohohohoohe! Ahehahhahhahaha!” Ranpo flopped like a fish against the sheets, sending them flailing off the bed. At some point Karl jumped for safety, landing on the nearby bed table as his humans wrestled about the bed, laughing all the way.
~~~
“Surprise!” Ranpo pulled out a small notebook from his snack bag, holding it out to Poe with warm yet nervous eyes. “I know it’s not your preferred notebook, but I saw it while snack shopping and thought of you.”
Poe stared, seemingly frozen at the gesture. For a moment, Ranpo was sure he messed up.
Then the author took it in his hands, tears misting his eyes as he held it close. “Thank you…it’s perfect.”
The detective grinned, jumping forward and kissing Poe’s with reckless abandon. “Do you love it? I know you love it, you love it don’t you?”
“Ahehaha! I do! I do!” Poe giggled, pulling the smaller man into his chest. “I do. Thank you Ranpo. In fact- I already know what I’m putting in it.”
“Oh?” The detective raised a brow but didn’t push, settling on snuggling against Poe’s chest instead. It wasn’t long before he was sleeping away.
~~~
Poe’s new notebook was not used for notetaking. Nor was it used for outlines.
Within the pages were an assortment of things- photos taken on a polaroid of them smiling, Ranpo giddily next to a giant cup of noodle, Karl staring at the Racoon dog- all various parts of their holiday.
Between photos were little blurbs- Poe’s sprawly handwriting detailing each event and his favorite moments from each activity. Some were softer- a secret photo taken of Ranpo snoring against his chest kept in the “Treasures” section. Wrappers of snacks his boyfriend insisted on him trying and he ended up liking were stashed inside as well- taped in with care and cute racoon washi they found. Pressed flowers from the garden trip were carefully added, a picture of Poe with a crown of them on his head nearby.
They only took so many pages- the rest of the notebook was far from full. Poe smiled as he pressed it closed, tucking it away in his desk.
He couldn’t wait for their next adventure.
Thanks for reading!
#BSD#tickle#tickle fic#ranpoe#ranpo edogawa#edgar allen poe#vacation time#a touch of hurt/comfort#but mostly fluff with these lovable dorks#hitting y'all with a fluff bomb before I go on a will i won't I writing vacation#post the candy heart dabbles of course#classes and all that#anywho#RANPOE BELOVED!
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everything just stops.
A 'DARKEST LITTLE PARADISE' DRABBLE.
pairing: min yoongi x reader
warnings: mafia au (but no specific details in this particular drabble), mentions of past accident, mentions of sex work, yoongi & oc reminisce and spend time together
masterlist + disclaimers.
note: in case u didn't know, i'm still currently on my aug-oct vacation (see details in pinned post!) and this post was scheduled in advance :> anyw this is a calm chapter/drabble compared to the previous ones bc hey, our dlp!couple deserves a break ok? as always, feedback is much appreciated!
— prev: and all the pieces fall | next: run away with me?
"I'm gonna miss you 'round here, sweets."
You chuckle at your coworker's tone, whiny and teasing from the other line of the phone call.
"You're acting as if I'm never coming back," you say. "It's only three weeks, you know."
"And that's three weeks too many," she whines but you know it's all in jest. "Besides, I wouldn't it past that man of yours if he spoils you rotten. You won't even want to come back to work after three weeks."
You pout as if she can see you.
"He's not my man..."
"Sure," she drawls. "Whatever you say, sweets."
"It's true!" you insist. "He's just— He's, uhh... Yoongi is..."
Three knocks on your front door.
"...here," you finish, blinking at the clock.
"And that's my cue to hang up," your coworker declares cheekily. "Bye, love you, be careful, enjoy your date—"
"It's not a date—"
She hangs up.
You sigh, before summoning your courage and moving to open the front door. Yoongi stands before your dingy apartment in his immaculate, high-end clothing, and even though he's been here a couple times before, you still can't get used to the sight.
"Hi," he greets you softly.
"Hi," you whisper back just as softly.
"Ready to go?"
You nod before stepping out and locking your door. The two of you then walk out and head to Yoongi's car. After strapping yourselves in and driving away, you turn your head to gaze out the window.
"Where to, this time?" you ask him mindlessly.
It's been weeks since your birthday, since that night Yoongi told you everything, and it's become routine at this point for him to take you to the different places in your forgotten past.
So far, you've already visited your old childhood home, your old high school, the coffee shop you used to go to, the ice cream shop you part-timed at, even the spots where Yoongi used to take you on dates.
Unfortunately, nothing has sparked your memories yet. But you don't really mind. After all, you believe everything Yoongi told you, especially since they lined up with the blanks you have with your life's timeline.
What you're after, with these little memory lane trips you take with him, is to get back in touch with your childhood, get a feel of what your life had been like, and get to know the relationships you had with people from your past.
Especially your relationship with Yoongi.
"I was thinking we could just drive around the neighborhood this time. No particular destination in mind," he finally answers your question. "What do you think?"
You beam.
"I think it's perfect."
And true enough, 'perfect' is what you use to describe how your afternoon with Yoongi goes – with the both of you getting takeout and parking at a local fast food's lot. It feels inncredibly nostalgic – stuffing your face with greasy junk food while he sips his iced coffee and toggles with the radio.
"I like this," you remark. "Feels familiar."
"We used to do this in high school," he tells you. "Before..." he trails off.
Before the accident.
You sigh. All those weeks spent with him, you somehow managed to avoid talking about the heavy things. But now, you can't avoid it any longer.
"It's okay, you know," you say to him. "You don't have to walk around eggshells with me. You can talk about the accident."
He nods, but doesn't say anything.
"You know, I always used to think you were so familiar," you reveal, reminiscing about all those times Yoongi visited your room at the brothel and how he never once felt threatening. "I always felt comfortable with you, compared to my other clients. Now, I know why."
"Maybe, deep down," he mumbles, "you remember me. Maybe somewhere in the back of your mind, you recognized me."
"Maybe... It happens during sex, too, you know," you tell him cheekily. "I get deja vu sometimes when you're balls deep inside me."
He chuckles. "Yeah, well, we were just as wild back then, too."
You laugh along with him. The laughter lingers for a while before he speaks again.
"I almost told you the truth so many times before," he confesses. "But I didn't want to overwhelm you."
"It's fine, Yoongi."
A minute passes.
"I also almost told you I love you before," he admits in a whisper. "So many fucking times."
Your breath hitches.
"Before... What about now?" you ask hesitantly.
He gazes into your eyes, leaning closer and closer.
"I still do," he whispers.
And then his lips touch yours.
COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
#bts x reader#min yoongi x reader#yoongi x reader#bts suga x reader#suga x reader#bts imagines#bts fic#min yoongi imagines#min yoongi fic#yoongi imagines#yoongi fic#bts suga imagines#bts suga fic#suga imagines#suga fic#bts x you#bts x y/n#min yoongi x you#min yoongi x y/n#yoongi x you#yoongi x y/n#bts suga x you#bts suga x y/n#suga x you#suga x y/n#cat.writes
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