#I wish I could have more conversations (face-to-face) with people who share my age /and/ my beliefs and my interests | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lokischocolatefountain · 1 year

Text

Sundress

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: 18+ (Fluff, slight smut, no angst for once, slutshaming but not how you think)

She laughed freely at something his cousin said, all her nervousness from their journey to Texas leaving her little by little when his family embraced her as one of their own within minutes of meeting her. Oh and the alcohol helped too. He took her hand and played with her fingers as he sipped on his beer, smiling as he felt himself relax in the presence of the people who knew him the best.

It was unbelievable really, being back in Laredo not as the former sheriff who ran out on his bride but as a federal agent with a beautiful woman on his arm wearing his ring. She was here in a pretty sundress, sitting on the sofa in his home, laughing with his cousins as they shared embarrassing stories about him. Pops loved her, just as he expected and he just knew that if Ma was alive, she would love her too.

It could’ve just been his beer-addled mind, but he was so happy with her right there, right then that he would quit his job and just keep her right there in Laredo. He never liked the damn place, always wanted to break free and run off to explore the big bad world. But he also saw the appeal of a small town as he stared into the old picture of his parents on their wedding day. He wanted love like that. And he had it. He wanted to take care of the ranch with her, work where he lived so that he could slip into the house whenever he wanted to kiss her senseless. He wanted to wake up in the morning without worrying about going elsewhere for work and just bury himself in her warmth, make sweet love to her, have the big family he’s always secretly wanted.

“Why can’t I have a baby brother?” He recalled asking his parents, wishing to have a playmate at home. They’d tried. For many many years, they’d tried. But he didn’t know that. “It’s because you’re a naughty boy and I don’t have time for more naughty ones.” Ma said, pinching his cheeks before getting back to work with the newborn foal.

All his cousins had siblings and though he was close enough to them to not long for more kids his age to play with, he was jealous of them and angry at his parents. So he told himself all those years ago that when he was old enough, he would give his son a lot of little siblings to play with. It was stupid and childish really, but the sentiment hadn’t worn off over the years. He would like a big family someday. When they were away from all the dangers his job brought them.

Family and friends flitted out one by one, making Javier grateful that he didn’t have to kick them out to take his fiancé to bed. He loved his family and all but he had been around her for hours without being able to touch her inappropriately and that was getting to him. Kicking his family out to fuck his girl wouldn’t have been nice. And it wouldn’t have done well for his ‘Javi who left his fiancé at the altar’ reputation.

“I really like them,” she giggled as she cuddled into him on the sofa. He pressed a kiss to her lips and pulled back to find her smiling wide. He smiled back, unable to resist the infectious effects of her smile.

“Good. And they like you too. Especially pops.”

“Wooo!” She pumped her fist in the air, making him laugh. “‘S nice to have my future father-in-law’s approval.”

“Yeah well, let’s not rub it in my face,” he grumbled, recalling how unimpressed her father was with him. But he couldn’t fault the man. If his daughter came home with a guy who got shot at everyday for a living, he would be more than just unimpressed.

“Aww, Pobrecito,” she cooed before pressing wet kisses to his cheek. “He’ll come around. He’s just annoyed that you would be such a slut and have sex with his daughter under his roof before marrying her.”

“And whose fault is that?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. She’d teased him all day, fucking grabbed him beneath the dinner table while carrying on conversation about work with her family.

“Whose fault?” She asked, making her eyes all soft and sweet just like the night she sneaked into the guest bedroom of her family home and begged him to fuck her. How was a man supposed to resist those sweet eyes and their filthy requests that contradicted their innocent act?

“Yours.”

“Mhmm?”

“Mhmm.”

“Okay then,” she said, smiling sweetly. Nothing good came out of that innocent act. “I’ll be a good girl tonight. I’ll take my bag to the guest bedroom. Sleep there for our entire week here.”

He rolled his eyes at her and snatched her bottle of beer before emptying the contents in one gulp. He wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easy.

“Rude!”

“Better rude than cruel, you absolute demon of a woman.”

“Cruel!? How dare you! I’ve been on my best behavior all day. I made your family fall in love with me faster than you made my family tolerate you. Miguel loves me so much that he would marry me if you didn’t. Linda invited me on a shopping trip and José didn’t move from me for hours.”

“José is two,” he said, laughing. Babies loved everyone, right? They were just innocent little creatures who loved everything. Or that was just what he told himself when his base instincts told him to take her to his room and put a baby in her immediately.

It wasn’t his fault. It was the goddamn sundress making her look all sweet and homely and just like something he’d want to put a baby in. He was going insane. Just the sight of her fitting in so well with his family and cradling his cousin’s kid while wearing a ring that declared her his was enough for him to stop thinking practically about all the things they needed to get out of the way before having kids.

“So? He loves me. I’m just so dang lovable,” she said, poking his chest with her index finger. “Not my fault that I’m perfect and you’re a big grump my father doesn’t care for.”

“He doesn’t hate me for being a grump. He hates me because he heard his innocent little girl screaming my name at night.”

“Asshole!” She gasped and shoved him away from her, but he returned right back and kissed her on the lips. Before she could call him more names, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, laughing as he felt her grab his ass immediately. Becoming boring was one of the reasons he didn’t want to get married, but with a girl like her who wanted him so openly, there wouldn’t be a boring day in his life.

“You make me fuck you in your family home, I get to have you fuck me in my childhood bedroom,” he said, carrying her to his room.

“Around all the posters of half naked women?”

“You offended, baby?” He asked, slapping her ass. He wasn’t the half naked women plastered all over his walls kind of guy anymore. But it made him feel giddy to think she might be…jealous?

“Nope! Just regretting taking down my John Wayne and Sydney Poitier posters. I had a John Wayne poster where he’s on a horse, wearing a cowboy ha—” she gasped as he dropped her on his bed.

“He was just a fake cowboy, baby. I’m the real deal. Got a ranch and all. I’ll put on the clothes if you want me to. Get on a horse, wear the damn hat. You want that?” He asked, hovering over her as she unbuttoned his shirt.

“I don’t know, Javi…” she tutted, twirling his hair around her finger. “You might look like a clown in it since you gave up the cowboy life to be a slut in Colombia.”

“I gave up the cowboy life to chase Escobar,” he corrected, giving her a pointed look.

“Yeah, but you spend more time being a slut than chasing Escobar.”

He pinched her ass, making her shriek and slap her hand over her mouth. “Javi! Don’t make me scream. I don’t want your dad to think badly of me!”

“Oh that’s one thing I can’t do, baby. Making you scream and making you cream comes naturally to me,” he said, making her gasp in horror. She had no reason to react so dramatically seeing that he’d definitely given her worse lines in the past. But it was fucking cute.

“Slut,” she chided, pushing him away but then pulling him down to her immediately. She gave him a peck on the lips before blessing the rest of his face with her kisses. It had him smiling like a kid, laughing like he used to when he was a permanent resident of this room.

“How many girls you fuck on this bed before me, Peña?” She asked as he shrugged his shirt off and got to work on her sundress. She looked pretty as hell in it, the white cotton with lemons printed on it giving her the look of the chaste woman she was not. But she looked the part in front of his family, hair down and neatly combed, pink on her cheeks and lips, and a pretty dress that made her look the part of a fiancée any group of Tias would approve of.

“You’re the first. The only one,” he said, pushing the elastic off her shoulders and kissing the swell of her breasts. He breathed in her distinct scent mixed with her sweat and took her breast into his mouth. She tasted salty from sweating, but he was not one to be disgusted by that. He came home to her sweaty and disgusting every damn night and she took him anyway. He buried his face between her breasts and took in her scent, groaning as his cock twitched in response.

Images of her with her knees bent by her head, still wearing the damn sundress as he drilled into her cunt filled his brain.

“Riiight. Totally believe that,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“You don’t trust me? You’re the only girl— woman, on this bed.”

“I don’t believe you. I know for a fact that you were a slut in high school.”

“Oh I was,” he agreed, hand diving beneath her skirt. “But I never brought girls back here. I sneaked into their bedrooms and sneaked out when we were done.”

“Of course you did,” she laughed, fucking herself on his fingers. It was sweet, having her in his family home, learning more about him and being delighted in what she found.

“It’d been a fantasy for a while actually, to bring a girl home, sleep with her on my bed. I just hated having to pull my pants up and run out before my girlfriend’s parents caught us and shot me.”

“You absolute menace!” She scolded and shook her head. He wondered if she would’ve given him her time of day had they gone to school together. He was quite the lanky kid with none of the muscles of his current body that she loved so much. He didn’t have much game either, not enough to impress her at least. She was a big city girl and all he knew at fifteen was Laredo and its oppressive walls. The Agent Javier Peña of now had slipped a diamond ring on her finger, but Javi from Laredo would’ve made a fool out of himself trying to get her to just talk to him.

Or not.

Maybe she would’ve liked him back. Maybe stupid boys with the worst pickup lines and too much confidence were her teenage self’s type.

“Would’ve sneaked into your room too,” he teased, bunching her skirt up at her waist before sucking her clit between his lips.

“Javi!” She squealed and not from pleasure. He apologized for hurting her with his desperation and placed a gentle kiss on the nub.

“My dad would’ve killed you for sure,” she said, running her hand over his arm. He flexed his muscles for her benefit and she took his offer, lavishing his arm with attention before moving a hand down his back as far as she could reach.

“Worth it for this pussy.”

He spent the night with his head between her legs, making her cry his name into her hand and then his pillow. In his head, he gave Javi from two decades ago a pat on the back. He’d gotten out of Laredo like he always wished, no matter the circumstance. He landed a pretty girl who wanted to fuck just as much as he did. He had love like his parents. He’d have a wedding he wouldn’t walk out on and someday maybe the grandchild his dad mentioned in passing.

Life was good.

Series Masterlist

2K notes · View notes

skipper1331 · 8 months

Text

best friends sister // Alessia Russo

a/n: based off this request.

Alessia Russo.

Y/n Toone.

Two people.

One mutual contact.

Best friend - sister.

One common rule in the world: never date your best friends little sister.

And: never date your sisters best friend.

Simple? You might think.

Alessia Russo fell in love with you ages ago.

You fell in love with Alessia Russo years ago.

"Hi" shy Lessi smiled as you opened the door, "you look nic-" as the blonde was about compliment you, her chaotic best friend stumbled down the stairs. "Less! Hi, i‘m ready to go" the young girl said before she grabbed her purse, "we‘re out shopping" your sister told you as she pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek, "ew" your hand wiped away the spit of Ella as she grinned cheekily, linking her arm with Lessi. How i wish that i could kiss her, Alessia daydreamed, red colour covering her cheeks. When Ella pulled her out your shared flat, the italian turned around one last time to look at you, smiling shyly as you waved a good bye.

"why does she have to be so beautiful?" you muttered under your breath, closing the door. Your hand still rested on the door knob, your head falling against the wooden material with a quiet thud.

Movie night.

Sitting on the couch with popcorn on your lap, you had a brunette, known as annoying big sister, on your left and you had a blonde, known as a lovely girl, on your right.

20 minutes into the third movie of Pitch Perfect, you heard loud breathing next to you - Ella in dreamland. She could never go through a movie marathon without falling asleep.

As you went to grab more popcorn, too occupied by the movie to notice another hand in the bowl, you shrieked lightly when you felt something warm touch your hand. Ella stirred a little yet didn‘t wake up, drool running further down her chin. "Sorry" you mumbled, cheeks flushing red. "No, i‘m sorry, i wasn‘t looking. Please" Alessia pulled her hand out of the bowl, signing to you that you should take popcorn first. Smiling at her you grabbed a hand full, the blonde going back in as it was her turn now. The two of you fell in a quiet conversation about the movie and the characters as you still watched it. At some point, you rested your head against Alessias shoulder, her body tensed as she got flustered mess, heart racing, skin on fire. She didn‘t know what came over her - where the confidence came from but when she saw your hand resting openly on the blanket she interwined your hands. Nobody dared to say a word or let their eyes leave the tv, your cheeks covered in a blush, lopsided smiles plastered on your face as you simply enjoyed the moment.

Who knows If it‘ll ever come again?

The two best friends were in the living room of your apartment as they sat comfortable on the couch, each of them a glass of wine in their hand as you walked down the stairs all dressed up. Alessias breath hitched as she saw you, you look absolutely stunning. Out of reflex, she stood up, eyes wandering over your body, dotting around your curves until the blue orbs stopped at your face. "Wow" she said star struck, she couldn‘t believe the sight she had in front of her, "where are ya goin‘?" the older Toone asked as she eyed you skeptically, "i‘ve got a date" you stated while looking directly at Alessia. Her whole face fell at the word 'date', feeling as she was punched in the gut. The wine glass slipped out of her hand, shattering on the floor, her eyes not leaving yours. "D-date?" it took everything in her not to cry, she felt so hurt.

"Clumsy girl!" Ella laughed, herself standing up to get a broom to sweep up the broken pieces. She didn‘t realize what was happening in front of her eyes - her best friend just got her heart broken.

You left without looking back.

You didn‘t mean to hurt her in any kind of way - she looked sad when you left but why?

"Hello?" you answered the phone in the middle of the night.

"My pretty lady, hi" a sweet voice said - the voice you knew so well, the voice that followed you into your dreams. "Lessi?" you asked anyways, your brain not in its full function that early. "No it‘s Alessia Russo, Tooneys best friend" she clarified giggling. "I know who you are- why are you calling me" you looked at your alarm before you continued "at 2am?" she sighed theatrically, "just wanted to hear your sexy morning voice, i guess"

"Lessi are you drunk?"

"Absolutely! HA!" she laughed, jumping up and down at the location she was at.

"Where are you?"

"Hmmm, not gonna tell you"

"Alessia!" your voice got louder and stern. You didn‘t want her to get lost while she was drunk. She was already clumsy sober you didn‘t want to find out what happens If you let her wander around alone and drunk.

"Baby, one day you‘re screaming that"

ignoring her coment, you searched for an app on your phone. Your sister was heavingly annoying but right now you were more than thankful that she had installed a tracking app in case of an emergency - Lessi’s location included. Within minutes you were out of the house, sitting in your car as you drove to the destination.

As you saw the blonde happily jumping around near a club, your heart felt relief - she seemed to be fine. "Less" you said, stepping out of your car, walking towards her.

She threw herself on you, arms flying around your body as she contently greeted you, "looking absolute gorgeous, babygirl"

"What‘re you doing here?!"

"drinking and dancing!" she held her cup with some liquid in the air as she cheered. "Oh my- Lessi" your arm went around her waist as she stumbled over her own feet- not clear If it was the alcohol or her clumsiness.

Finally, buckled in the car seat, you took a seat behind the steering wheel. The radio was playing as you drove home, Ella at Joe‘s. The italian in no condition to be left alone. The whole way she brabbled about something as you occasionally answered with a humm.

At home, you gave her some of your clothes, helping her change.

Something was on her mind as she walked around the kitchen island with a deep frown on her face after she drank the glass of water which you had handed her. "Ya alright?" you asked, blocking her way. She marched over to the living room, standing at the exact same spot, she had stood once before - not enjoying it at all. "You had a date" she stated, "you had a fucking date!" her mood taking a turn, "you had a fucking date and I wasn‘t invited"

Utterly confused you asked, "What?"

"Why didn‘t you ask me?"

"On a date?"

"Yes" her face held the same sadness it had a few days ago when you saw her that night, "my heart shattered in more pieces than that stupid wine glass" she admitted, a single tear slipping out of her eyes.

"Alessia, what‘re you-"

"Stop talking!" with quick steps she was in front of you, walking you back in the kitchen as she trapped your body between her own and the kitchen island, her arms on either side of it, "i want you to be mine" she mumbled against your lips, an inch away, the smell alcohol hitting your nostrils. "I don‘t want you going out on dates, i don‘t want to know that someone else is making you blush - it has to be me! You have to be mine, please"

"Lessi, you‘re drunk, you won‘t remember any of this in the morning" you told her, breaking your own heart. The day finally came where she reciprocated your feelings and admitted it and know you had to tell her that it were drunk slurs.

"This isn‘t the alcohol!" her voice grew loud, "fucking hell"

You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply as you kind of soaked in the moment, "tell me in the morning and i‘m yours" you whispered, still with your eyes shut.

"Fine, i will" with an ease she picked you up and carried you to your bed, maybe she wasn‘t as clumsy as she was when she was sober. You were about to say something before she put her finger to your lips, shushing you, "don‘t say anything, baby, you’re sleeping in my arms - end of discussion"

Flopping on the free side of the bed, the striker made herself comfortable before she pulled you into her hold. It was new for both of you yet so familiar.

The two of you fell asleep within seconds, sleeping better than ever.

You were the first one up, strong arms wrapped around your body and gentle breaths hitting the nape of your neck. Turning in her hold, you took the chance to admire her, she looked so cute. It wasn‘t a rare sight for you per se, she‘s at your home all the time but something about her laying in your bed, holding you tight made it much more special.

You had to break the moment, though. If she really wants you, she would know without the clue of you being in her arms. You wanted to know: were it just slurs?

Slowly, you entangled your body, the blonde grumbling as nothing was in her arms yet still sleeping. you made your way down to the kitchen, starting to make breakfast as music was softly playing in the background. In your own mind, you didn‘t hear her come down the stairs, messy hair, cheeks puffed from last night. Her head hurt like shit, "mornin‘" she greeted, taking a seat on the stool. Wordlessly, you placed a glass of water in front of her, pills next to it.

"Thank you"

You hoped she would say something, say something about last night, about what she admitted.

In the meantime, she played with her glass, counting the left over water droplets, "you know," she started, the empty glass on the counter, "i still want you to be mine"

Your movements stopped, everything just stopped.

"I‘m sorry for last night but not for what i said, i remember everything and if my mind isn‘t playing some games, you‘re mine now" she walked around the island, confidence radiating from her body. Like last night, her arms wrapped around your smaller frame with her forehead resting against your own, "say yes, please. I can‘t stand a day with the knowledge you‘re going out with other people"

Your heart fluttered at her gentle touch, skin burning, "yes"

Ella didn‘t know a thing about the two of you, her best friend and little sister - girlfriends.

The last few months had been the happiest of your life, Alessia was an angel, treated you like a royalty, kissed you like you were her forever.

"Baby," the striker looped her arms around your waist from behind as she pressed soft kisses to the side of her neck, "looking stunning as always"

"Lessi" you giggled, interwining your hands as you swayed around, "my pretty girl, amore, the prettiest"

Both of you heard the door open way to late as a loud Ella Toone barged in, "Hi!" she yelled, you jumped away from Alessia, her hands leaving your body as she turned around to the cupboard, "oh hi Less" the Mancunian smiled, not seeing the interaction Alessia had with her little sister, "what‘re you doing here?" she asked instead

"Came to suprise you!" the italian lied, out of the matter of fact, the thing you had was something new and private, nobody knew. And to be honest, neither of you knew how Ella would react. Would she support you? Would she be angry?

"Oi! What‘s that?" Ella asked as the three of you sat like so often on the couch, her thumb flew to your neck, rubbing over the reddish mark. Lessi‘s hickey. Your hand swatted Tooney‘s away, holding your neck as a slight hiss left your throat. Alessia chocked on air - she got carried away last night when you visited her, "burnt myself with the curling iron" you stuttered, trying to cover your flustered and caught self.

"Are ya turning into clumsy-Lessi?" she laughed, smacking your thigh, amused by her own joke.

Thankfully, Ella didn‘t realize that there were no curls in your hair.

"What are you wearing?" your sister asked her best friend as they sat in the coffee shop.

Confused, the striker looked down at herself, "a hoodie?"

"From whom?"

Just now, Alessia realized it wasn‘t her own - yours. It was the first thing she saw this morning and in her groggy morning state she didn‘t recognized that it was yours. "Looks likes Y/ns" the midfielder added to her question as she took a sip.

"Uh! It‘s not yours?"

"No?"

"Oh shit. The other day when i waited for you, i grabbed it 'cause it looked so cozy, didn‘t know it was hers" she rambled.

"Nah, no worries. We‘re family"

Alessia gulped, oh gosh, how is she ever gonna tell her best friend that she’s in love let alone in a relationship with her little sister?

It went on like this for half a year, Ella didn‘t know a thing. Both of you felt bad lying to her but on the other side you didn‘t know what to do.

Alessia loved you.

You loved Alessia.

And the two of you cared so much about Ella and her opinion. So every day that passed, the harder it got for you, the more your heart broke.

"Lessi, i don‘t want to her find out about us, i wanna tell her and everyone" you mumbled in her chest. "I know, baby, me too" she kissed your forehead with so much love as she held you close, "I promise we will tell her soon"

"Oh Less, hi? tooney asked as she opened the door.

"Can I come in?" the blonde asked, fists balling as she tried to stay calm.

"Sure! Ya don‘t have to ask"

In a firm voice, she told her bestie, "We need to talk about something" Ellas face growing pale, the striker never one to be this serious, "yeah sure, let‘s take a seat" she signaled to the couch, yet Alessia didn‘t move, "is your sister here?" ske asked instead.

"Yeah, she’s in her room. What is going on?"

"Y/n!" Alessia shouted so you would come down. She didn‘t talk to you about what she was about to do, what she was going to admit but she didn‘t want to lie to her best friend another day and she didn‘t want to hide her feelings for you either.

As you patted down the stairs, you saw your girlfriend with a determined expression on her face and a confused sister sitting on the couch. "Hi" you greeted. Nonetheless that she had a clenched jaw, she grabbed your hand in a gentle manner, pulling you in front of the couch where Ella was sitting.

"I‘m dating your sister" the italian stated firmly. As Ella was about to say something, she cut her off, "before you say something: i love her. And i know sisters are a no-go but i couldn‘t help myself." her voice grew shaky at the so thought end, "please don‘t hate me" she whispered as she looked at Ella who had an unreadable expression on her face. Shamefully, you looked to the ground, squeezing Lessi’s hand: you‘re with her.

Ella didn‘t say anything - she needed to gather her thoughts. After 5 minutes, you were a nervous mess, the same as your girlfriend, "Ella, we‘re so sorry. It- it just happened" you explained, trying to save the situation.

Like a robot, the young lioness stood up from the couch, both of you inhaling sharply, "I‘m so happy!" she exclaimed, arms swinging over your bodies, pulling you in a bear hug. You didn't expect that reaction but were more than happy with it, "that‘s so cool! My little sister and best friend! Less, you’re gonna be my sister-in-law"

Sighing in relief, you felt at peace, all the nerves washing off your body, "You’re not mad?" Less asked to be sure.

"Nah! i love this"

And she meant it when she said it, maybe she didn‘t know about it from very first day and as obvious as she can be, Ella saw your and Alessias mood change over the last few moths, both of you seemed much more happy and at peace. Even If she couldn‘t connect the dots, she was now your biggest supporter.

She sailed the ship Russo-MiniToone.

————————

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #arsenal wfc #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #arsenal x reader #engwnt #engwnt x reader #lionesses #lionesses x reader #ella toone

768 notes · View notes

hausbabylon · 9 months

Text

when the storm subsides

WandaNat x Fem Reader

Word count: 4,367

Warnings: 18+ content, neglect, stimulation, edging, spanking, degradation, humiliation, praising, masturbation, oral (w. and r receiving), strap-on (r. receiving), face riding (w. receiving), squirting, fluffy ending. Mommy!Wanda and Daddy!Nat.

You had taken real pains to make your little affair with Wanda Maximoff something more. The day you gave up, you gained more than you thought you'd lose.

It was one of those nights when you felt alone in a crowded room. The noise of the people around you only intensified the feeling of isolation.

You looked around, searching for a familiar face, but even the only face you knew seemed like a stranger. You wished for her to talk to you, to share your thoughts, but the fear of another rejection or being misunderstood kept you from reaching out.

With Wanda Maximoff, you began to feel increasingly defeated in your attempts to catch her attention. Despite going out of your way to make conversation and engage with her, you found that her eyes and interest were always drawn to others who spoke to her. Over time, you began to question whether your efforts were worth it, or if you should simply move on and focus your attention elsewhere.

The conversation among the people present revolved around materialistic things. They bragged about their properties, discussed how much their sales had risen in the past months and shared their plans to increase them even more. You noticed that most of them were middle-aged, almost like the woman sitting beside you.

It was surprising to realize that your beloved powerful witch, who possessed a higher state of consciousness, had these friends who were evidently blinded by ambition and were very poor in spirit.

One particular woman made you feel insecure. Throughout the whole evening, she seemed to be in between you and the woman you loved so much. It was as if she knew how to project her confidence and charm in just the right way to make you feel inferior, and she was succeeding. Wanda laughed louder than usual at her jokes, she touched the other woman's forearm or leg at every opportunity, and this other woman at the same time would give you a teasing look whenever you were ignored by Wanda. You felt like you were constantly competing with her, even though you knew deep down that it was a battle you could never win.

The last straw was when she spoke to Wanda's ear, and when her eyes fell on you, she gave you a teasing wink. This small gesture was enough to make your blood boil.

"Wanda, I wanna go," you protested in the Sokovian's ear, once the woman you knew as Natasha Romanoff finally turned away from her. "I'm bored, and this whole evening you've barely turned to look at me."

"They're my friends from High School, do you have any idea how long I haven't seen them? Please let me enjoy this moment."

You tried to put on a brave face and hide your disappointment, but it was hard. You had hoped that this evening would be a chance to meet Wanda’s friends, perhaps connect with her in a more meaningful way, but instead, you felt like an outsider.

"Why did you invite me here if it was to have me as a seat filler? You should have come alone," you snapped. "And alone you will go."

You took your bag and rose from your seat at the dinner table. Before leaving, you made sure to say thank you to the hostess for her hospitality, which was ironic given that the hostess was none other than the red-haired woman.

You decided to go to the bathroom upstairs, and take a moment to yourself before making your way home. Even the bathroom was as large as the main bedroom in an ordinary house. But of course it was Wanda's wealthy friends, they somehow felt the need to live in such an unnecessarily large mansion even if they were by their own.

It was all so difficult.

Wanda would treat you as her special girl, the best thing in her life, but only when you were pleasuring her at that time. It was during moments like these that you realized that her affirmations were not sincere, at least not outside of the carnal area.

Maybe this was a sign. Wanda did not see you in the way you desired: as someone willing to give not only your body, but your soul as well. You didn’t simply want her to hold you after she's finished using you for her own pleasure; you wanted her to count on you on her worst days. You wanted to be the first person she thought of when she wanted to share anything at all. You longed to be included in her plans, to be part of her daily activities, no matter how banal they were.

You had been trying so hard to impress her, for example, with new outfits, but it seemed like she just didn’t care unless she took them off you right after. You felt like you have done everything you possibly could, but it was still not enough. She gave you so many signs that maybe you were not the right person for her, at least not emotionally. She may have enjoyed being intimate with you, nothing beyond that. In the end, this was partially your fault, or at least you felt that way. You were too much of a non-conformist, and that could have been part of the problem, as you expected more from what Wanda was willing to offer.

You tried to hold back the tears were very close to spill from your eyes. You had hoped that things would be eventually be different with Wanda, that she would see you and love you for who you were, but it all pointed to the fact that you were just another accessory for her to show off.

You spent about ten minutes in there, trying to build up the courage to face Wanda and cut all ties with her before she could hurt you again.

But you knew it was in vain, when you heard a few knocks on the door. You knew it was Wanda, and you realized that you would melt into those green eyes as soon as you opened that door.

To your surprise, it was not Wanda who stood on the other side of the door. It was the woman who was the main reason of your mental breakdown.

You gulped slightly.

At least with Wanda, you knew what to expect. But with this woman, you had no idea.

"What's the matter, little girl, are you in the middle of a tantrum because your Mommy ignored you?" Her voice was soft and gentle, but it had a mocking tone.

"I know this makes you happy. Just with little touches she seemed to be whoring herself out to you, so be my guest," you were about to get out of there, resigned to the fact that it would be a long drive home where you would have to invoke every divine force in existence to protect you from an accident from driving in this state.

You were about to exit the bathroom, but she quickly raised her arm to create a barrier to stop you from passing.

"I wanted to get her attention, yes, but also yours,” she confessed. “She is very busy, and may not have the time to give you the care you deserve. That's where I come in."

Your eyes widened like plates, demonstrating how taken aback you were. Natasha was stunningly beautiful, so it was easy for you to be left in awe.

And it was as if your body made an action of its own, disconnecting itself from your brain, when you automatically tugged at the lapel of her jacket and your lips crashed with hers.

She responded eagerly, your mouth opening to allow her tongue to explore the depths of your cavity. It was a battle that neither you or her seemed to win, it was just an endless exchange of kisses, each one deeper and more intense than the last.

"Take me to your room," you spoke between gasps. She pulled away briefly to look into your eyes, and Natasha's sharp nails prickled your skin as she grabbed your cheeks a bit too hard.

"I'm not taking you to my room, I'm taking you to a room," she corrected, and released you roughly.

The room in question was still dim, illuminated only by a soft red glow that emanated from some led lights that were placed on the ceiling and the floor respectively. As your eyes adjusted to the light, the first thing you saw was a queen size bed in the center of the room, its sheets and blankets neatly made. In front of the bed, almost taking up the entire wall, was a large mirror. It reflected the red light in a way that made it seem as though the mirror itself was on fire. You understood immediately why Natasha would chose to put such a large and ostentatious mirror in her bedroom.

Natasha closed the door behind you, and suddenly, she grabbed you by the neck, her sharp nails digging into your skin again. Initially, the pain caused you to gasp, but then you realized that you loved the sensation of her touch.

Finally, she placed her hand in that area and pushed you backwards until you were pinned against the wall next to the bed.

Everything about Natasha was intoxicating, from the way she moved to the way she spoke. She always maintained a neutral tone, which differed from her harsh and straightforward actions. Though you didn’t complained, you knew at this point that actions spoke higher than words.

She pulled up the fabric of your dress, which reached a little above your knees. When it was sufficiently lifted, she slid it up your waist, your torso, and your arms, which you lifted by inertia. Finally, the garment was on the floor, leaving you only in your shoes and bra. And no, you weren't wearing any panties, which was the first thing the redhead noticed.

"What a nasty little bitch you are," she snapped, shaking her head. "I was going to be nice to you, but a whore like you deserves no mercy,” you could feel her staring at you, taking in every inch of your body.

She placed her hand on your chest to keep you in place, and she bent down to reach the drawer next to the bed. Subsequently, she pulled out a rope from there.

The redhead then ordered you to sit with your back resting on the bed headboard, only to take your wrists with a peculiar aggressiveness, and tied them in such a way that there was no way you could defend yourself.

It was very evident that she cared very little about your feelings. She had a deliberate intention to establish herself as your superior, and you were only a subordinate who followed her orders. The most frustrating part of this all was that you could feel the heat between your legs growing with each passing second, for you were completely at her mercy.

She then kissed you with an intense and almost animalistic hunger that left you breathless. You could feel the pressure of her lips against yours, and every once in a while, she would bite down on your lower lip with a strength that made you gasp in pleasure.

Her mouth slowly descended onto your neck, the warmth of her breath making you feel vulnerable. You felt like she had known you for years, like she had done this before, because she knew all of your weaknesses perfectly. It was as if she was reading your mind, knowing exactly what you wanted and needed, as if she had been given a detailed instruction on how to treat you, as if someone else had shared your deepest desires and secrets with her.

Her fingers made their way all over your body, until she reached that weak spot that was desperately throbbing for her.

"Ahhh… fuck y-yes!" You exclaimed, arching your back after feeling an exquisite electric current run from this area, all the way up to your stomach.

“Needy and foul-mouted,” she giggled. Her touch was gentle yet insistent, bringing you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Her movements became more deliberate, more focused, and you could notice the desire building within her as well. With each circular motion of her fingers, you felt yourself falling deeper and deeper under her spell, lost in a world of pure pleasure.

The redhead continued to caress and stimulate you, making it evident that the pleasure of your body was her top priority at the moment. Her fingers felt more and more lubricated with your fluids, making you a mess of moans that was almost humiliating. However, you didn’t care, everything was perfect, the intensity just right.

As you gazed into the mirror, you could see your own reflection staring back at you. You let out shameless moans as Natasha was above you with her head buried in your neck. Your arms were positioned above your head, your wrists bound to the headboard. All whilst Natasha's right hand was actively touching you, heightening the pleasure you were experiencing.

Your body began to tense up even more, and the heat rose to your cheeks, it was too much to bear that you could feel a lump forming in your throat. You knew you were on the verge of the climax. Despite the fact that she had not yet inserted her fingers, the older woman had managed to stimulate you in all the right places with just her touch alone.

"Mmm, someone's going to cum," the woman said, her eyes fixed on your body's reaction. "But I told you I wouldn't have mercy on you."

She withdrew her fingers.

“No! No! No!” You exclaimed desperately, your tone carried all the disbelief and frustration you were feeling. This woman was twisted and evil, how could she?

As she got out of bed, you hoped she would grab something to provide some relief, but your hopes were dashed as she exited the room, leaving you laying there angry and unsatisfied.

You then noticed the mirror across the room, which suddenly took on a different hue. Your heart sank as you realized you could see what -or rather who- was on the other side.

To your shock, it was a see-thru mirror! And on the other side was Wanda. She was lying on a similar bed, completely naked and not tied up like you. She appeared to have just achieved her first orgasm, unlike you who had not reached that point yet.

So Wanda had seen it all.

You didn’t know how to feel, whether furious or aroused, as you realized that you had been manipulated by both women.

As Wanda disappeared from view, you were left alone to contemplate the situation. But your thoughts were interrupted when the door opened to reveal Wanda dressed in a bridal robe, and Natasha was standing next to her, grabbing her by the waist.

They were both stunning in their own way, Natasha seemed tough and was indeed tough, on the other side, Wanda held a sweet façade that could be easily shattered into a sadistic being. This has happened on several occasions, and given the expression on her face, this could be one of those occasions.

"Look at your slutty little girl, letting me fuck her without your permission. What are you going to do, Miss Maximoff?" Natasha provoked her, and those words were of great terror to you.

As you stood there, she silently approached you with a determined look in her eyes. Her jaw was tight, and with each step, her face grew more intense.

You expected the worst to happen, since you were in a situation that was perfect for her to do whatever she wanted to do to you, without you being able to defend yourself.

However, she reached out and released the ties that bound you to the bed.

She proceeded to remove your bra and heels, and grabbed you until you were on all fours. It was a rough maneuver that left you feeling exposed and vulnerable to both women. As she knelt behind you, you could feel the fabric of her dressing gown brush against your skin.

She leaned forward, and grabbed your arms to place them behind you to tie you up again.

You heard the door close again, and you knew it was Natasha who did it. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves and think clearly.

Wanda's hand caressed the skin of your ass, her touch was firm as you have always known it.

“Look at how pathetic she is, surrendering herself at just a simple touch,” she addressed Natasha, and the latter hummed in agreement.

Wanda stopped stroking you and you felt her palm drop hard, spanking you aggressively.

It was clear that Wanda was angry, and you could sense that she was taking it out on you. Her intentions were obvious from the way she was acting.

“No, she deserves worse,” Natasha commented, and before you could even question what it was, you felt a whip with a thick belt. It surprised you, but instead of pain, it brought a tingling sensation throughout your body.

“Count!” Wanda grabbed a handful of your hair and tugged on it. You started to think that she believed that harsh treatment instead of simple words was the only way to get through to you.

As you looked up, you noticed that Natasha was watching the scene intently. .

You closed your eyes willingly this time, and braced yourself for the whip, “One!”

When you sensed another whip coming, you took the deepest breath your body could allow you at that instant. "Aahh, t-two," you squeaked this time.

You could also hear moaning in the distance, that's when you realized this was something of a spectacle for Natasha’s pleasure as well.

"Three," all this was sweet agony, and you were drawn into a darkest part of your psyche that surrendered to this most pleasurable sensation.

“Four…” your fists were clenching behind your back.

“Five…” you jumped, this was perhaps the strongest one.

“Six…” your legs weakened, and Wanda held your hips to keep you in place.

“Seven…” a couple of tears started welling up in your eyes.

“Eight…” your voice could barely be heard.

“Nine…”

“Ten…”

She stopped, and turned you over so that you could be facing her. In the midst of all the anger and lust her green irises projected, you could find a hint of appreciation in them.

With your legs spread a little wide around her waist, she removed her dressing gown, finally giving you access to a view of her beautiful body.

She untied your wrists.

Finally, you were free to touch her as you had so longed to do. She leaned over you, kissing you deeply and passionately, her lips lingering on yours before moving down to explore your jawline and neck. Her kisses were hot and intense, and you let small gasps of satisfaction as she trailed her lips and tongue over your skin.

But the pleasure didn't stop there. She descended on your breasts, licking and sucking your nipples with a fierce intensity that left you writhing with delight. As she mercilessly pinched one nipple, she ran her hot tongue over the other, alternating every once in a while.

And then you glanced at Natasha, watching from an armchair a few feet away, naked and touching herself as she watched the scene unfold. The sight of her only added to the intensity of the moment, as the wetness between your legs grew more intense.

Her lips pressed against your belly, leaving a trail of fiery kisses behind. As she moved lower, her mouth found the spot where you needed her the most, and her tongue sent electric waves of delectation throughout your body.

“Mmm… right- right there!” Your voice was unintentionally raspy, as you placed your legs on her shoulders and tangled your fingers in her hair, pushing her head slightly as you were grinding yourself shamelessly on her face. “Yes, Mommy!”

“Fuck…” Natasha’s voice made itself present, as her moans joined yours in a choir-like manner.

You watched her intently, noticing in awe as her long, drenched and shiny fingers were coming in and out of her cunt in an exquisite rhythm.

“Daddy’s about to cum,” Natasha groaned, as her movements increased.

The tension that had been building inside you was finally released, as you cried out Wanda’s name. You lost yourself in the sensations that only she could bring, and the wetness that had been building inside you was finally released in a rush of intense pleasure.

"Oh, my good girl," Wanda mused, and you subsequently noticed that Natasha had finished shortly after you.

She bent down again to clean up the mess she had made of you, but Natasha spoke up, "No, let me finish what I started," she got up from the chair, and walked over to you both.

She grabbed Wanda by her jawline and planted a deep kiss on her lips, so that Natasha could have a taste of you as well. She looked at you, "Malyshka, do you think your Mommy deserves a reward for pleasuring you?"

“Yes, Daddy,” you nodded, eager to accept with whatever was coming.

Wanda smiled widely, “So good for us. I told you, she’s a good girl,” she praised you.

She shifted, and carefully, knelt just above your face. She slowly dropped her full weight on you. You were able to taste her hot fluids in a matter of seconds, and you set to work on her.

You felt something new ramming your insides, and that made you tense in response. This was nothing like you had taken from Wanda before.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Natasha cooed sweetly. “Take what I give you, I promise it’s going to become your favorite thing.”

She firmly took your waist, her thumbs slightly squeezing your pelvis while she gradually buried herself deep inside you.

In response, you buried your nails deep on Wanda’s thighs, earning a small mumble from her. However, that didn’t stop you from eating her out, on the contrary, you were taking it out on her, which made her moan louder.

Natasha then found her pace, and you could hear the nasty sounds your wet cunt was making, which didn’t go unnoticed by both women either.

“Fuck, your little girl is taking me so good, Maximoff,” she exclaimed with pride.

“Mmm… I can tell! She’s taking it out on me,” Wanda panted.

Soon enough, Natasha increased her speed, and you let out muffled moans as your breath quickened. Just as she promised, it became your favorite thing, since your fluids were pouring out, and the fabric of the blanket was beginning to soak under you.

“I’m… I’m… so close!” Wanda exclaimed, whilst you were prevented from moaning, as she choked you with her inner thighs.

“You’ll wait for her,” Natasha commanded.

“Please… I don’t think I…-”

“You’ll wait for her,” Natasha reiterated.

You shut your eyes tight, the only sound that could be heard was Wanda’s slutty moans, and Natasha's pelvis crashing against your ass, creating that familiar obscene sound. Her movements were expertly timed, and her touch tantalizingly rough.

You eventually felt the coil in your lower abdomen losing itself for the second time, as you had just experienced yet another orgasm, this time with a new woman. Natasha had been eager to please you and had certainly succeeded in doing so.

Wanda did as Natasha ordered her, and just as you were finishing, Wanda climaxed, drenching your face with her own pleasure. The feeling of her warm juices all over you was both thrilling and satisfying.

Both redheads lay on either side of you. The room was humid, and you all had sweat trickling down your foreheads while some of your tousled hair sticked in there.

Wanda's fingers started caressing your scalp, "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry for not showing you how much I care about you. I've been so caught up in my own past that I didn't realize how much I was neglecting you. But that's going to change. From now on, I'm going to give you the love and attention that you deserve."

Hearing those words felt as if a long and arduous battle had finally come to an end, and all of the doubts and uncertainties that had been plaguing your mind were suddenly swept away. You finally could discard all the versions of yourself you had shown her for her to notice you, because for the first time, she had finally assured you that she loved you for you. You didn’t have to try that hard, not anymore. This was the start of something new, something beautiful.

You looked into Wanda's eyes, "Thank you, my witchy,” your tone came out more emotional than you intended to. But it didn’t matter, it was a moment of pure vulnerability and honesty, and it felt liberating to finally hear her say those words.

Natasha, who was also there, smiled and stroked both of your cheeks tenderly. "My beautiful girls," she said, "I hope we can meet again soon and continue to share these precious moments together."

That day, Wanda and you said goodbye to the visitors who had no idea what had happened upstairs, already very drunk and immersed in their conversations. After returning home, Wanda confessed to you that she had been intimate with Natasha Romanoff in previous occasions, but you didn’t blame her, that same night, you also felt a certain attraction growing within you. Therefore, you and Wanda agreed this wouldn’t be the first and last time you would be having encounters with Natasha.

And so, as the weeks went by, the three of you went on several dates, and created all kinds of memories. You enjoyed spontaneity at its fullest, no expectations, and overall, you felt special and loved by both women, who made you feel noticed and appreciated.

It didn’t take long for your love for them to grow, and you cherished every moment you spent together.

Looking back on that night, it felt like the world was about to end. Little did you know that it was actually starting.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximommy #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #wandanat #wanda x natasha #wandanat x reader

599 notes · View notes

glow-worms-are-believers · 11 months

Text

Lost and Found (dp x dc)

Alfred sighed as he looked over the wide gymnasium, thinking to himself that he shouldn’t have listened to Leslie. Community service was all well and good as a way to connect with people, but overseeing an inter-school bakery-sale-and-science-fair combined event was proving to be more chaotic than anything else.

As another child dropped yet another just-bought desert on the floor, Alfred slunk into the shadows deciding to let the clean-up be someone else’s task for once. As he got further and further from the main hubbub, the ex(?)-butler arrived near a small exit door and snuck out quitely. As the fresh air hit his face, Alfred let out a breath. Seeing so many children around had him thinking of his charge and where he could possibly be.

The older man hadn’t brought a pack, since he’s been going to a school, but in the moment he wished he had. Sighing once again, Alfred shook off the craving as he took a few steps towards the communal school garden when the sight of a black-haired boy sitting with his back to him had him freezing. A second later his brain caught up to him, reminding him that this was not young master Bruce. The crushing disappointment he felt as he recognized the boy in front of him was much to small to be his little master Bruce surprised him by its intensity.

Alfred took a moment to compose himself before he cleared his throat. The noise had the figure flinching and turning their head towards the older man. Then, as the boy caught sight of the older man, he seemed to slump. Seeing that he was unlikely to speak up first, Alfred took it upon himself to start the conversation.

“Might I inquire what you are doing outside, young man?”

The boy’s shoulder slumped even more though he still answered. “Haven’t got any sweets to sell,” he mumbled.

“Oh?” Alfred sounded out. “Why is that?”

“My cookies ate my homework so I had to put them down,” said the boy as he finally raised his head, long-suffering

But Alfred could only breathe a faint “Indeed?” as the boy’s features were exposed. The resemblance with master Bruce was so uncanny that the butler had trouble looking away. But as he examined him more closely he could see some minute differences. The boy didn’t have the sharp jawline both mister Wayne and master Bruce had shared. His nose was smaller than master Bruce’s and his eyes were paler than the darker blue passed down through the Wayne line. The sight of a face so similar and yet not quite like master Bruce had his mind jumping to the portrait hung above the manor’s fireplace and the face of the toddler sitting on his mother’s lap as a slightly older child stood beside her with his father’s hand on his shoulder.

Everyone had bemoaned the two-fold tragedy of the Waynes. First to lose their youngest son at such a young age, only to be themselves brutally murdered only a few months later. All was left of the previously illustrious Waynes was a grief-stricken eight-year-old who had just lost his brother and parents in such a short period of time. Alfred sighed as he remembered how angry master Bruce was at his inability to find out to this day what had happened to his brother. The man half-suspected this was how the young man had developed such an obsession with solving mysteries.

Once again having to focus back on the boy in front of him, Alfred smiled at the boy. Then, the boy’s word registered and the man let out an amused huff. “You had no choice but to put an end to that, I suppose. Cookies as spirited as yours would sell poorly in any case.”

“Oh you’ve got no idea,” muttered the young man as he pushed himself to his feet only for his hand to slip on the wet wood surrounding the gardening plots and falling face-first onto the hard wooden surface.

“Oh dear!” exclaimed Alfred as he darted to assist the boy in straightening up. The boy groaned in pain as he held his nose and Alfred could see drops of red falling down.

“Here,” said the older man as he handed the boy a fabric handkerchief.

“Thanks,” the teen croaked as he accepted it.

“Put your head between your knees,” Alfred instructed. “Breathe through your mouth.”

The boy offered a thumbs-up as he complied. Alfred waited patiently by the teen as he kept the handkerchief held against his nose. After a moment, the boy held it away experimentally and when he felt no more blood flowing he turned towards Alfred.

“Thanks,” he said before he looked down at the red-stained white fabric. “I can wash it and return it if you give me a return address.”

“It’s alright,” Alfred refused. “I don’t mind washing it.”

“Thanks,” repeated the boy as he handed the older man the handkerchief back, as he got to his feet, this time more gingerly. “I best get back before my friends start looking for me.”

“Be careful on the way back,” Alfred couldn’t help saying.

The boy hummed and as he turned around for a final wave goodbye, their eyes connected and Alfred felt a jolt travel through his body. Though the pale blue of Danny’s eyes was not the distinctive shade of the Waynes, it was however identical to the color of the late Martha Wayne’s eyes. As the boy opened the exit door and disappeared in the crowd of people, Alfred looked down at the blood-stained handkerchief.

He knew there was a less than infinitesimal chance. Still. What would it hurt to make absolutely sure?

#Lost princess AU #dc x dp #dp x dc #Danny fenton is bruce wayne’s younger brother #alfred pennyworth #roxpox #roxpoxwrote #Bruce is off traipsing around the world learning the skills necessary to become a furry vigilante with adoption problems in the future #Can you believe he left Alfred alone for 7 years?#Poor Alfred doesn’t deserves such a wild child

914 notes · View notes

cheriladycl01 · 1 month

Text

My love, is mine all mine - Max Verstappen x Norris! Reader x Charles Leclerc Part 5

Plot: Norris' Twin sister is also a driver in the 2021 line up and is in her rookie era. Not only do the commentators struggle to now talk about the pair in the race, but they also struggle to talk about talent. What happens when two drivers find her eye-catching.

A/N: I've brought Luisia into things because of the timeline and it being 2021. Don't hate on her, or the fact that i've brought her into my writing please!

Credit to countingstars-17 for the GIF

Charles stayed on the yacht with you all for a few days. He ended up sharing a room with you in the two single beds.

You spoke all night… every night and for the most part it was pretty platonic. But there was some wavering moments where he was looking at you for extended period of time. Or you’d accidentally looked from his eyes to his lips and back to his eyes and he’d shifted in the bed.

But nothing more than that, you’d gone around Monaco sightseeing and shopping and Lando finally told everyone he had a girlfriend. Which was a massive shock to the media.

You guys continued your holiday. Charles left, about two weeks before you and Lando. You had spa days with Luisa and then you would all go to the club at night.

But there was one night, one to the end where Max and Pietra had come from London and you were kind of the odd one out. The only one on their own.

So you danced with as many random people as you could. Some random guys who were probably twice your age, some respectable young Monacan bachelors and even just big groups of girls who were all there for fun.

You were happily at the bar having a really loud conversation with the waiter about your life and everything that had been happening in the last few months.

He seemed genuinely really interested but that could have been all the alcohol you’d drank.

“So then … Max you know Max right?” You say with wide eyes to the waiter.

“Yeah… I think I’m familiar with Max Verstappen” he chuckles loving the doe and excited expression on your face.

“Yeah so he comforted me when Charles, you know Charles too right?”

“Yeah I’m also familiar with Charles Leclerc” he chuckles pouring you another drink, one that you’d been having all night.

“Yeah so he was comforting me after he kissed me, and I was really confused. And I thought he was being so sweet and I - THEN, he was with my best friend!” You say with a shocked expression on your face.

He fakes a shocked look as he slides you your drink.

“No way! That’s just not on!” He plays along with you.

“Right? and I don’t even know what to do now” you whine and the waiter just laughs before wishing you well and moving on to someone else.

You sit there and drink until you feel a hand on your shoulder and you look round in shock.

“Max?” you ask seeing the Dutch man.

“Hey Y/N” he says a hand still resting on your waist.

“Wh- what are you doing here?” You ask, looking at him before your eyes panic dart around the room trying to find anyone to help you.

No-one was around. They weren’t in the booth they’d been in and they weren’t on the dance floor. You gulp the alcohol now getting to your head and making you feel dizzy.

You felt awful …

“I live in Monaco Y/N” he laughs as if the two of you are okay, like nothings happened.

And you hated it.

“I have to go… I’m here with people” you voice getting down of the chair stumbling a little as you do making him catch you in his arms.

“I’ll help you, can’t let you go alone somewhere in this state” he admits, and yes it was probaly just him being honest and wanting to help you but it almost felt like a diss to you…

“I’m fine, I’m just going to go find my brother” you say pushing his hands off you!

You walk away walking through the crowd, not knowing Max is following closely behind you. You walk through the club, pushing past the sweaty body’s trying to find anyone that was in your group.

Your eyes darted round looking for Lando, Max, Pietra or Luisa. But none of them were here. They’d vacated the club. You walk out and find the bouncer.

“Erm hi” you say tugging on the shirt he was wearing. He looks down at you. He was a big man. Way taller than you and way bulkier than you.

“You okay?” He asked, he knew who you were. Not because you came to the club often but because you are Y/N Norris and your are kind of hard to miss.

“I was just wondering if you’d maybe seen my brother and his friends out here?” You asked, hoping they’d just come out for some fresh air or maybe one of them, hopefully not Lando had picked up smoking.

“Yeah they left around 45 minutes ago. You need me to call you a cab?” he asks and you nod. Max again was watching on, the bouncer noticed, worried it was a random at first. But once he noticed it was Max just making sure you were okay, there was a silent not between them.

“You’d do that for me?” You look up at him with tears in his eyes.

“Yeah come on hand me your phone” he says and he plugs in the last coordinates that were there which happened for be the marina.

“You on a boat?” He asks and you nod.

“Okay. It should be here soon” he says hanging back your phone.

You were angry and upset that the group had just upt and left you. And no matter how much you’d had to drink it was something you’d be remembering in the morning and you of course were going to be petty as fuck.

And as for Max, you didn’t realise he was watching you, but he was just concerned for you.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

171 notes · View notes

romanoffsbish · 11 months

Text

We All Have Scars

Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Fem!R x GN!OC (Robin)

WandaNat x F!R

Request | WC: 8,088

Warnings: Shitty Partner | Mental Breakdown | Breast Reduction (Insecurities) | Angst -> Fluff (H/C)

Smut: Oral (R) | Fingering (R) | Thigh Riding (R) Enchanted Strap (R receiving / All affected) | Overstimulation | Soft & Dirty

"Did you see Y/N?" You stopped dead in your tracks as you heard your name come from the agency creeps mouth. You were meant to only be passing the break room. Being an Avenger now you hardly ever came to Shield's HQ, but their agents missions would occasionally overlap with more serious affairs, and when they did you were brought here to debrief.

What you didn't expect was to hear people talk about you so casually as if this wasn't still a work environment. Eavesdropping was taboo, but you justified it after hearing your name.

Part of you wished you'd never stayed...

——

"Of course I have Marvin," the familiar voice of your partner startled you, the fact that they'd engage in a conversation with the company sleaze threw you off, but it was their following words that really left you feeling uneasy. "I fuck her dumb on the regular, or did you forget?"

"That's actually why I'm asking," he chuckled, you could just picture the sinister expression as he goes on, "Why would you let a woman like that lessen her greatest asset? Those boobs of hers were once the center of my wet dreams."

You'd felt bile rising, and as they spoke next your mouth was overtaken by a putrid film.

"Let?" They sneered in question, "I begged her not to, but she's stubborn, and didn't listen. Honestly, she'd have been better off for it had she because her chest is all scarred up now. I can't even fuck her without the lights off."

Everything came crumbling down for you in that clarifying moment, the clipboard in your hand tumbling to the ground, and alerting the people to your presence behind the oak door.

You didn't stay long enough for them to see you though, it was purely instinctual the way your legs were taking you to the only place you felt like you could find solace. Running so fast through the place that once employed you, and failing to see the looks of pure concern on your friends faces as you brushed right by them.

Wanda heard snippets of your thoughts as you rushed right by her and Natasha, and her heart absolutely shattered at just how little you thought of yourself. She was desperate to know why, but invasion was never an option for her. So against her hearts desires for understanding she didn't dive deeper, but with the way you were crying so openly, and the emergence of your bewildered looking partner she knew.

The witch shared a look with her girlfriend, and after a moment of eye contact the redhead was bolting it down the hallways in line with the route she knew you'd be taking. It was the only place you felt safe when in such a space.

As Natasha left she knew your, likely to be ex, was in for a world of hurt. They'd been hoping for the dissolution of your arrangement for ages now, but they would never have wanted it to be at the expense of your very wellbeing.

Nonetheless, Wanda would handle them well.

After a minute of sprinting she came to a stop outside of the very oak tree she and Wanda had spent months building a treehouse on for you. The house itself was put together by Natasha and Clint, the retired archer who came around one day and took an instant liking to you, in a similar way as the longtime couple had. But the homey decor was all Wanda's work, as was the enchantment that kept it invisible to others.

Only the Avengers could see it. It was also even more restrictive with entry privileges, as only you, and the couple could enter uninvited.

As the redhead used the sturdy ladder to climb up she could feel her heart hammering in her chest. The adrenaline, spurred on by her need to reach you was quickly wearing off. Her body was begging her to just take a deep breath, but she could hear your distinct, hysterical sobs so she settled on taking in a labored set of breaths as she just continued to overexert her body.

Upon entering she saw you hunched over in a corner of the room with your head in your hands as your body shook uncontrollably. Natasha wanted to hold you, to scoop you up and shield you from the looming darkness but she knew you needed the option to choose.

"Y/N," Natasha cautiously approached you, her hands were reaching out for you but you were hesitant to accept her touch. You knew she was good, that she'd never hurt you, but your gut also reminded you that you thought the same thing about your parents, who used to patch up your "boo-boo's," until they sold you off to Hydra at five once your brothers were born.

They couldn't afford three mouths to feed, and they deemed yours the one worth sacrificing.

Then there was Strucker, the man you'd once called papa before he became the actual devil. One second you're playing with his monocle while perched upon his desk, then the next you're becoming another one of his lab rats. He made the decision to become ruthless with you as soon as you'd turned ten, and were ready to physically undergo the life altering trials.

Your mistrust fully bloomed with that betrayal.

Every time you made a connection, the other person would be shocked at your eagerness to trust in them. Most people pitied you really, so desperate to be loved by another that you'd easily settle for mediocrity. With every single partner you'd give them all of you, and they only ever found new ways to tear you down.

You finally thought you got it right with Robin, but you realized now you didn't. They were just like the rest of them, and you were finding it increasingly hard to cope with another loss.

Robin was a dream, they were the same person who flashed you a warm smile a little over six months ago after a rather exhausting mission. They bought you dinner, and kissed you softly on the cheek before bidding you farewell. As time went by they'd be the one to hold your hand through the countless stormy nights. It never occurred to you that they'd become a nightmare too, the kinda person who would happily humiliate you in front of your peers.

You trusted them; poor, silly girl that you were.

Everyone around you warned you not to date the person in charge of spinning stories. Their literal job came with the responsibility to twist the truth until it looked presentable to people.

It really shouldn't be a shock to you that they'd embarrass you like this, taking your newfound insecurities and broadcasting them even after they'd assured you that you were still beautiful.

As if your former colleagues needed to know about what you looked like beneath your bra.

You were a mess of emotions, but mortified took the prime spot as you envisioned the word spreading like wildfire. Shield was one thing, but the idea that the people you now called family would get an insight into the situation.

Well, that was enough to lead you right here.

To a place that shielded you from the curious looks, and the invasive whispers. It was your only escape, where you thought you'd have at least some time to be alone in your shame, before your saviors would come along. But in your rush to escape you'd forgotten the couple was just as present on the prior mission.

"Detka please," Natasha was desperate in her pleas, she could see you already withdrawing, and it terrified her. It'd been years since she last saw you like this. At the time they were hesitant as well, but after a few hours with you it was clear you were nothing short of docile.

They had placed you into a containment cell after retrieving you from a Hydra facility. You were so incredibly broken, and too easily pliant to be seen as a threat. You were soft spoken, and cooperative, yet you clearly held mistrust.

From the very first day Natasha knew you'd become someone she cared about. With her and Wanda being in charge of training you it wasn't much of a shock that you let them in. They accepted you just the same, but with the distance starting at shield created they never got to have you the way they wanted. Then as you were transitioning to the Avengers you met Robin, and it nearly sent Wanda off the rails.

The brunette knew they were trouble, and she didn't even need her powers to tell her that. But the collective warnings fell on deaf ears as you chose to pursue the apparent dead end.

Natasha knew too, but she held her resentment closer to her heart, and remained the only one capable of keeping Wanda focused on the fact that you weren't theirs to claim. You were not something to be owned, but earned. So, they settled on being a solid base for you, and if they play their cards right now, once you've healed they'll finally get to call you theirs outwardly.

As the redhead caught your shifting gaze she could see your resolve softening, so she settled on the ground before you. There was a good five inches between you though, giving you any space you could want. "Can I hold you detka?"

It was tense, staring into her loving gaze as you weighed out the options. You could either stay where you are, cold and broken, or you could crawl into her awaiting lap, where you knew intimately that it brought warmth, and peace.

After a few minutes of chaotic deliberation you scrambled into her lap. Her arms wrapped around you just as fast, and you cried against her chest as her unyielding love overwhelmed your persistently aching heart. "It's okay sweet girl, I don't know what they did, but I promise you didn't deserve it. They're a dumbass..."

You froze in her embrace, your mind and heart were now at war with one another as you chose to stutter in their defense, "N-no, Natty, don't be mad at them. They were just being —."

"Don't do that," Natasha shook her head, her own lip began to tremble as she really looked into your eyes to see your mind in scattered pieces that required mending. "They don't deserve your forgiveness, don't defend them."

"Th-they didn't mean it, they couldn't have.."

It broke the redhead to see you trying to give Robin the benefit of the doubt, all the while you are trembling in her arms as you tried to process your overwhelming feelings of hurt. Which is why she decided it was best to offer you comfort while being brutally honest.

"Sometimes people are just terrible Y/N, there's no rhyme or reason, and there's no changing that fact no matter how hard we want to. It's easier to pretend they had a valid reason for being so cruel, to bury that intimidating surge of anger and fill the new void left behind with a faux sense of personal accountability."

Natasha's callous thumb softly ran over the wet skin of your cheek, she smiled warmly at you as she let the abrupt silence linger for a moment. Offering you as much comfort as she could while she carefully gathered her thoughts.

"Because facing the truth that they're a vile person that we let in to hurt us is harder than rightfully condemning their behavior." Natasha saw you coming to terms with her words, but it only proved more devastating as more tears streamed down your temples and soaked into the cotton of her hoodie. "So please don't do it, because when you do, you're only masking the hurt instead of feeling it. You have to face the truth detka, feel the betrayal and the hurt long enough to free you from it and to let you heal."

"W-why does this always happen to me Natty?" Natasha firmly pressed her lips to your hairline and took in a shaky breath through her nose as she willed the tears in her eyes not to slip. "I don't know Y/N/N, but you deserve better."

Natasha's voice wavered, she truly didn't get it, because if given the opportunity to have you at their side, she knew that Wanda and her would love you right. You'd never have to question their intentions, or the strength of their love for you because it was true. It would be perfect...

"It hurts so much," your voice was barely above a whisper, but your hands were strong as they clung to her in sheer desperation. "Make it stop Natty, please, I-I can't." You began to shiver, and in an instant her hoodie was slid over your head and within seconds your body calmed.

"Yes you can detka," Natasha shushed you, with a warm smile reserved for you once your bleary eyes had found hers again. "You're strong enough to face it detka, and we're right here. Wanda and I got you now, you're safe."

"I'm safe," you repeated a bit unsure, but as her arms tightened around you it was made clear. You timidly smiled up at Natasha, and she returned it with ease. She saw your exhaustion clear as day with her eyes locked on yours, so she shifted her body, then kept her hold on you firm as she took you both to the grey recliner. She put a playlist Wanda made for you on shuffle, then kissed your cheek. "Now rest."

Natasha enjoyed cradling you, even if her arm had long since gone numb holding up the deadweight of your upper body. With you nuzzled into the cloth of her shirt she could feel your warm breath against her skin exposed by the v-neck of her blouse. Her heart practically leapt out of her chest, she missed having you close ever since you entered your relationship.

They'd nearly had you, but you slipped away, and that had the gravest of consequences...

"How is she?" Natasha looked up to see her girlfriend hovering by the doorway, almost afraid to enter the space you both currently occupied. "Okay for now, did you figure out what that wretched fool did to her?" Wanda shook her head as she approached, her hand gently cupped your face, and she smiled as you leaned into her touch. "I didn't really ask..."

Natasha furrowed her brow in confusion as she peered up at Wanda for clarity, but then she silently understood the witches loving gaze.

It was your story alone to tell.

Wanda handled your ex, and the agent with the easiness of a call to Fury. The matriarch of Shield held no hesitation after he caught wind of what was said. He nipped the spread of the scenario in the butt with a hardened glare. It wasn't enough for Wanda though, so with a flick of her wrist she ensured that the last hour of all of their lives was a muddled memory.

Whatever was said, was forgotten by all except for the guilty parties who were thrown out on their asses. Wanda glared at Robin as they rushed out of HQ, sending a shiver down their spine that let them know to never return.

Natasha was satisfied with the information, but she also knew you'd likely be devastated. To find that you were abandoned again is going to hold you prisoner to thoughts of inadequacy.

All the couple can do is be there for you, and hope that with time you'll be made anew.

"What's in the bags?" Natasha moved the conversation on, and Wanda held the bag out to give sight to the contents. "I made Y/N/N her favorite meal, and I ran to our old Shield rooms to collect some pajama's for all of us."

"We're sleeping here tonight?" Natasha asked with a pout, her back instantly feeling that familiar ache that the air mattress brings.

"Suck it up kotenok," Wanda snorted, "Y/N needs to not be bothered by the guys tonight."

With their chatter above you it wasn't shocking for Wanda to be the first to witness your eyes fluttering open. You looked rather adorable as you tried to piece together how you ended up in her lovers arms, and then she saw clarity wash over you. For a moment you frowned, then you yawned and reached out for her.

Wanda set the bags down on the coffee table with a soft chuckle then she pulled you up and into her warm embrace all as she smiled down at a pouting Nat in a gloating manner. "How does a treehouse sleepover sound sweetie?"

"You guys don't have to do that, I'm okay now," you mumbled into her shirt, she hardly caught your words, but she merely tightened her arms around your waist and swayed your bodies. "Detka, you don't have to pretend with us, you don't need to go through this all alone. So, I am going to get some bowls, and you'll go pick a movie while Natty here sets up the projector."

You knew by her tone that there was no room for debate, so you did as you were told. In the end she was right, you were far from fine, but as you laid between their bodies as the film continued to roll, you knew as long as they were around that the healing was possible.

——

In a years time, you knew with certainty that was true. Wanda and Natasha, your now lovers of three months, had saved you from ruin.

You were a shell of yourself at first, hardly speaking to anyone upon reaching back to the compound, and reverting back to your old ways of solitude in a blink. Always polite, but never forthcoming with your presence or words.

Robin leaving over something so personal to you broke you into shambles. It was never a fair trade, but your mind couldn't help but to regret ever giving into the advice given to you.

When you first joined the Avengers you were given an off planet mission. Thor was not one to go on missions Earth-side often, unless it was the end of times level, but Fury did offer him agents when necessary. Your powers were crucial to Thor, so you found yourself on a planet where fire was the peoples kryptonite.

With one flash of a flame you were able to help him without much of a fight. Their leader knew Thor wouldn't hesitate to let you bring ruin, so they gave into the God who towered over them.

He'd taken you back to Earth, and for your "valiant effort" he took you to a diner, where even though you'd done hardly anything, you were rubbing at your lower back and wincing.

"Lady Y/N, why don't you get your boobs cut into smaller ones?" He'd said, you immediately went to cast an offended glare at the pig of a man, but then you saw into his eyes, and they held an innocence that told you he was only offering a genuine suggestion. "My ex, Jane, has a friend—Darcy. She used to talk our ear off about how reducing hers was the best choice she'd ever made. Her back problems vanished, and her clothes fit more smoothly."

His suggestion seemed fruitless at first, but after a mission a couple weeks later, where you felt the pain increased by your exertions you took it seriously and scheduled a consultation.

Robin said no, but it was never direct. They just teased you, and therefore you believed it to be a tasteless joke. They never said anything to you after, but you could see the way they no longer lit up at the sight of your bareness. It didn't change your sex life though, at least not in the rate at which it happened. Only the way.

Still, you remained naive up until the moment their truth was spewed out like venom. Sinking into you, and holding you captive in your mind.

They had no right to make you feel insecure, it was your choice, and it was meant to be joyous. You made it with your own body in mind, to better your life, and you were ecstatic. It was one of the first ones you'd ever been able to make of your own volition and they tainted it.

For the first month you refused to leave your room unless it was to go on a mission, or to sneak off to the treehouse. Everyone gave you the space, even when the couple didn't want to.

Wanda kept you fed with meals outside your door, and Natasha kept you safe by going on the missions you were still expected to go on. They hovered, but never in a way that was suffocating, only in a way that said they were there and cared. Which eventually paid off because when you did finally show up to movie night you were quick to settle down with them.

It was your first big step towards healing.

Months flew by, and with time you found the ache in your chest was never for Robin, but instead for companionship in general. You wanted a love like Wanda and Natasha's, and after a drunk kiss shared between the three of you it was made clear you just wanted them.

It was a no brainer really, when you woke up with your head on straight you felt the same. They'd breathed out a sigh of relief when you simply smiled at them and snuggled even further into the warmth of their bodies instead of running out of their room screaming.

That night they took you on a date, and swept you off your feet in the most romantic of ways. Literally, Natasha scooped you up, and kissed you beneath the light of the moon, and Wanda danced with you in a field as the stars twinkled.

You felt free; they were the breath of clarity you'd always been searching for, you'd just only ever delved into a sea full of wrong people.

Being with them made you realize that you were never the problem. They loved you so incredibly well, reminded you how beautiful you were everyday, even when you looked like a troll as your arose from your slumber or a hot mess after a grueling mission. It was never a lie, your beauty was more than skin deep.

Still, even with their reassurances, you'd been terrified to give yourself over completely. You knew they'd never treat you like previous partners had, but still, in the back of your mind you were left with the fleeting insecurities.

Every time something would be close to initiated you'd find yourself blocked. Heavy petting and sloppy make outs would progress with ease, then a hand would skim over your heated skin beneath your blouse and you'd bolt up, and excuse yourself. They never questioned you, they gave you your space, and made sure the vibe in the room was tranquil when you would come back in with a guilty expression.

Wanda would cradle your head to her chest, and Natasha would kiss your cheek as if they weren't hot and bothered only an hour prior.

They've been patient, which is only fair, but you also knew that they were sexually driven women. You've shared a wall with them for long enough to know that, but ever since you'd joined their arrangement they've been celibate.

Neither seemed impatient with your pace, they offered you abundant warmth, and stability. It was you that was growing frazzled with need, the pit in your stomach was taut, and after making out with Natasha, with your body pressed against a wall this morning you'd decided that there wasn't any need to wait.

That's why you're in their room, the one that had basically become yours, with only silk a robe layered around your bareness. Against the insecurities of their unknown reactions, you were ready to take a chance on them, and you had faith that they'd love you regardless of the perceivable imperfections. Plus, the source of your greatest insecurities lessened with time.

The once dark, and angry surgical scars had actually faded some, they were still prominent, but nowhere near as noticeable as they were a year prior when you were shamed. On top of that, you'd decided to take a cosmetic approach to distract yourself, and others from the marks.

You took a steadying breath, and shook off the building anxieties. You chose to focus on the potential for a night of bliss. Natasha and Wanda were downstairs finishing mission reports, completely unaware that they were about to stumble upon you. That element of surprise actually made you even more aroused.

It was embarrassing really, the way your slick dripped down your thighs, and cascaded over the slope of your knees as you kneeled on the bed in wait. You'd texted them a simple 'come to your room please,' and smiled when you heard the familiar steps of Nat's combat boots and Wanda's heels in only a minutes time.

"Detka?" Natasha called out, but it was Wanda who first walked into the room, and who felt the colliding of her lovers body as she stilled at the sight of you on their bed. The energy was shifted from inquisitive to sinfully so as the women let their eyes trail over your form.

"What is this?" Wanda's accent was thick, her flushed cheeks and darkened eyes giving way to the carnal second nature of your loving witch. Natasha pushed Wanda forward, hand reaching behind her to shut and lock the door with ease as she spoke huskily, "Yeah, we're not complaining love, but we're seeking clarity."

Without a word you reached out your hands and each of them took one into their own. Natasha linked her fingers with yours, and Wanda held eye contact with you as she brought yours to her lips to kiss your knuckles.

"I'm ready," you spoke with absolute certainty, and allowed them to pull you from the bed. Wanda spun you so that you were facing her, and offered you a gentle, yet questioning smile. Natasha moved her hands to your hips so she could pull your body flush to hers, her lips pressed beneath your ear, hot breath tickled your skin as she whispered: "Are you sure?"

"There's no rush," Wanda added, and you leaned forward to kiss her, it was soft, and she melted into the affection. Then you boldly laid her hand onto the tie of your robe. "I think we have all waited long enough, so take it off."

Both of them pulled away from you, and though you enjoyed the redheads warmth from behind, you found her eagerness to see you in all your naked glory a bit more comforting. Wanda swirled her hand in the air, causing the knot to untwist, and the robe to fall. "Woah."

You chuckled nervously, "Woah? Is that good?"

Wanda smiled as she bit her lip, and beckoned you closer with the crook of her finger, you quickly obliged, settling into her open arms. A sigh left your lips as Natasha once again stood behind you, and pressed you into the witch.

Neither of them answered you with words, but instead you found yourself with your head thrown back as they lavished your body with the most sinful of attention. Nimble hands groped you all over, and brought you to moan as their lips worked you over in tandem.

Natasha and Wanda were honestly floored by the initial sight of you. Their eyes had nearly bulged out of their heads when seeing the way your thighs had glistened for them—they knew without need for vocal confirmation that they get you all worked up. They see the way your thighs harshly clench, and in this moment they could smell you from a few feet away and they were salivating at the idea of being able to finally taste you after all these years in wait.

Then their eyes slowly rose higher, admiring every perfect curve of your body that they'd only had the luxury of seeing beneath clothes. Eventually seas of green reached the holy grail as they froze on your chest, your nipples were pert, and breasts were perfectly rounded.

Sparks of jealousy ignited in their hearts at the realization that someone else was near your body within the last year upon gazing at your fresh tattoo. Just between your breasts sat a gorgeous piece of artwork, it was an intricate array of lines that all came together to create the image of a sturdy castle. It took over the entirety of your upper abdomen, and the tip of the extravagant looking building laid within the valley of your breasts. It was moving.

You'd gotten it to represent the overall concept of conquering fears, to symbolize that no one else could dictate the making of your intricate story, it was yours to write; you were queen.

They also noticed your scars, but it wasn't even a thing they focused in on, neither woman cared about something so inconsequential.

Why would they when they had your body at their disposal to cherish until the sun set?

You were perfect, and they were desperate to have and show you that, to wipe away the insecurities they know you've felt for months.

After a particularly loud moan that Natasha pulled by groping your ass, Wanda had bit down into the juncture between your neck and shoulder. Her fingers drummed against your sides as she steadied her skipping heart, then she pulled her face from the side of your neck as she had caught a whiff of your increased arousal. The need to be between your thighs was no longer something she could ignore, and with how you squirmed about in their hold she knew that the overall need was reciprocated.

"You're fucking breathtaking Y/N," she held onto your hips with a tight grip as she felt her body dizzying from her need for more of you. "I'm so—, please detka, tell me this is all okay, let me know when I can drop to my knees and worship you like the queen that you are."

You gulped when looking into her eyes to find only remnants of green remained. The lust was all consuming for the lot of you, you were all but certain Natasha's eyes were just as wild.

"Come on sweet girl," Natasha rasped against the shell of your ear as her hands slid around to grope your breasts from behind, you gasped and nearly broke down as her thumbs rolled over your nipples. It'd been so long since you felt the hands of another on your body, but more specifically your chest and you were overwhelmed with settling grief and pleasure.

"Let us take care of you like you deserve," she continued with an urgency in her tone that sounded close to a whine, it was as if she was in pain being made to wait, "Fuck, you're just so perfect Y/N, sat here patiently waiting for us."

Wanda was already on her knees when your eyes had finally fluttered back open, you locked gazes with her, and offered her a reassuring smile that made her heart flutter wildly, and once your head nodded she surged forward.

Normally they'd ask you to speak, but there was no doubt with the urgency of your nod.

Natasha held your body firmly in place by your hips as the other woman flicked her tongue through your folds. It excited her to no end when you tried to squirm away, but found yourself incapable of doing so with her bruising hold. You were gripping onto her neck with your arm thrown back for stability while your other hand fell and twisted into fiery locks of auburn so that you could keep them close.

Wanda hummed against your clit just as one of Natasha's hands slipped downwards from your hip, and just as her fingers slid inside of your cunt she was prepared with her plump lips on yours to catch your throat scratching moans. With only a few strokes and a harsh suckling of your swollen bundle of nerves you fell apart.

The redheads arm wrapped around your waist as your body tried to slump forward, because it'd been so long since you felt this intense of a release, and Wanda didn't even stop to breathe. It was no wonder your knees buckled as her tongue continued to lap at your center, and her fingers harshly dug into your quivering thighs.

Natasha aided her in her attempt to pull more from you before ever making it to the bed as her fingers buried themselves back inside of you and moved with a vigorous effort to do so. It was a pleasure you'd never felt before, her long fingers reached into your greatest depths, making your stomach burn as you were built back up, and tears collected in the divots of your neck as you cried from the pleasure.

"I-I'm gonna cum," you got out before an ear piercing moan left your throat, "O-oh shit!" You could feel the coil tethering with each harsh thrust, and it finally unraveled as the redhead curled her fingers and pressed them into your g-spot. "I, oh fuck, fuck, fuck..."

Your slick came gushing out, and soaking Wanda's face while your walls pulled your other lovers fingers in even deeper and held onto them for dear life as they continued to spasm uncontrollably from the pleasure. It took a few minutes for your cunt to relinquish its hold, and as soon as she slid her fingers from you Wanda was there to replace them.

"What a good girl," Natasha purred against the skin of your neck. "I bet you taste so sweet, hm. I mean look at Wanda, she's already addicted and you're just letting her devour your pussy."

Wanda grinned against your thigh after she finally pulled away from your sensitive walls, and if the look she sent her lover wasn't enough the confirmation she got when she sucked your slick from her fingers was enough to prove it.

"A real fucking delicacy she is," Wanda mused, accent thick with her Sokovian roots as she felt and stored the entirety of her lust in her chest. "Those mission reports will be defaulting."

Natasha chuckled, "Oh, yes they will..."

Wanda stood to her feet, and kissed Natasha over your shoulder while you came back down. Their tongues danced harmoniously, and you felt the warmth blossom in your core again at the sounds of their altered salivas swapping.

Fortunately for you they handled your tired body once they were satisfied with parting. Their main focus was on taking care of you, and making love to you until you couldn't take it anymore, they wanted to hear you plead with them to stop, then bring you over the edge a final time just to see you writhe all over again.

When your mind caught up to your body you could hear the choked up moans that left you as Wanda slid your cunt against Natasha's bare thigh. Her nipples brushed against your back and you internally screamed at the feel of them bare against you. Your eyes were screwed shut, but you willed them open so you could see them, even if you were restricted in many ways.

The swell of Natasha's breasts was enough to make your body tingle with excitement and for your thighs to try to clamp shut, but the tight grip of Wanda's hands, and obstacle of Nat's leg kept you spread wide open, and in bliss.

The redhead smirked, "Like what you see?" You smiled bashfully, and stuttered out a quiet yes that made the women share a humored glance. "Feel free to suck on them then detka." The permission granted and way that she hotly winked at you had your walls clenching around nothing, and at the feel of your cunt pulsing she knowingly flexed her thigh, and as Wanda harshly pressed you into the muscle you fell into Natasha's shoulder with rushed pants to indicate what the slick on her thigh already did.

You came, again, and fuck were you feeling it.

Never in your life had a partner made you cum more than twice, you'd believed it to be an impossibility at this point, so the fact that they'd even managed a third time was actually insane to you. Your teeth had sunk into the skin of the redheads supple breast, and latched on tight, for a brief bout of comfort it seemed as your lower half went momentarily numb. It was a foreign sensation, the way your vision had spotted over, and your muscles ached.

Your body was obviously spent, you were sure to fall over soon, but they weren't even done with you. Something you realized after the witch lifted you up, then spun you around. They left you over Natasha's lap, with you on your knees, keeping your legs spread wide over Natasha's. The sight of a strap made your eyes widen just as much, and Wanda smiled wide.

"You like it detka?" You visibly gulped, but nonetheless nodded along rather dumbly. "It's enchanted, so when I fuck it into your pretty little cunt, Natty will feel it too, and I will get to feel as you clench around me with every inch I slip inside you. Oh my, I can't fucking wait..."

Wanda's words were a warning you didn't read, so when the tip pressed inside you seconds later you weren't prepared, but your pussy was. It swallowed the thick silicone up, and left you with your mouth agape as it stretched you out.

Natasha panted wildly against your neck as she felt the phantom strokes of the enchanted strap as it slid in and out of your slicked up walls. That alone nearly sent you spiraling over into another climax, but you managed to keep it at bay for a bit longer to ensure both woman got to fall over with you. "I'm so close, please..."

"Just a few more minutes detka," Wanda grunted as her hips continued their relentless pace in the race to bring you all over the edge. "I'm close too, I want to cum with you love."

Natasha squeaked, "Me too," as her entire body felt like it was on fire. Every nerve ending she had was on high alert as she felt every single pleasurable pressure that you did with Wanda rutting into you like a woman gone mad. The pleasure melded into pain from time to time for you, but it faded out fast enough to derive an even deeper, appreciative overall pleasure.

It was driving her wild, finally having you in the way they'd always dreamed of. Spread out, and dumbed down. It had her teetering, and she knew with absolute certainty she'd fall soon, especially when you or Natasha would moan right in tandem with her soft grunts.

As the witches pace steadily increased it became near impossible for any of you to bare. With every thrust into your g-spot you'd flutter around the silicone, which would cause a firm sensation to be felt against Wanda's very own.

Natasha's upper body gave out, causing her to fall back into a low pile of pillows, and with her your body followed. Wanda didn't take this new vantage point for granted either, her eyes first focused on the way your tits bounced with every single thrust, and then they moved on to gawking at your glistening, puffy cunt that took her thick, veiny strap without any resistance.

"Fuck, look at this Nat," she groaned, then in an instance both yours and Natasha's minds were overtaken by the live image of your cunt being rutted into without any reprieve in sight. Natasha cried out against your cheek, her thighs trembled beneath your ass, and even in your blissed out state you managed to smile.

Wanda found your triumphant smile adorable, you knew just what you were doing to them, it was a cocky, yet sweet little expression. You soon whimpered as she lifted your thighs up into Natasha's hands so that she could fuck into you even deeper. Her plans to wipe the smile off your face a success as she worked to remind you that they were the ones in charge.

Her body lurched forward so that she could lavish your upper body with attention, her tongue swirled around your nipples, making you gasp out at the unexpected touch. Then she began to press shaky kisses all over the ridged skin around the curve of your breasts as she grew overwhelmed by the way that the harness pressed firmly into her clit with each thrust.

Wanda wanted to see you coming undone, so she stretched her torso and brought her face to hover over yours as she kept her hips pace up. While she stared into your eyes she noted the way your pupils contracted ever so slightly, there was a haze that heavily overlayed them, and she felt her chest swell with pride at the effect their ministrations were having on you.

Then she frowned as they soon shut. "Open your eyes pretty girl," she coaxed, her lips pressed to yours briefly, and she beamed when you listened to her gentle command. "Keep them open for us, we wanna see you let go."

Natasha softly cursed in Russian from beneath you, her hot air coasting over your skin, and you imagined Wanda was sharing in the sight.

"I need," you choked on your words as she applied a firm pressure to your engorged clit, the touch was too much and everything all at once. "Please, let me cum, I can't take it anymore... I need to..." You words cut off once again as she had slammed her lips to yours, and whispered, "Cum with us detka, let go..."

You came with a scream of their names in between slurred curse words, and Natasha followed suit within seconds, screaming in line with your own before she bit into your shoulder to suppress her insanely loud noises of bliss.

It was a glorious sight for the witch, Natasha's skin was flushed and her eyes were drooped, and when she focused back in on you she about died at the alluring sight that followed along with you cumming. Her hips came to an abrupt stop as she was blinded by her own orgasm, holding eye contact with you as you came down was rather dizzying. Like an intimate fireworks show on display for just her with the way the swirls of lust exploded within your irises.

Wanda’s body collapsed atop yours, she softly kissed the skin of your neck, and smiled when your arms lazily wrapped around her body. The three of you remained like that for awhile, breathing out of sync on the come down, and exchanging the sweetest of touches up until Natasha ruined it with a gravely whine, “I can’t feel anymore, I’m paralyzed beneath you two.”

Wanda rolled her eyes, then you squealed as she did the same with your bodies. “Fine, but don’t complain about missing our warmth.”

“Ah yes, because that’s what I’m getting,” she teased further, “You’re just so warm Wands.”

“Careful now, or I’ll tell Fury to send you off.”

Natasha chuckled, then looked over to see your face was nuzzled into the witches chest, and the other was smiling like an idiot. Her heart was near to bursting at the seams with just how much love she harbored for the both of you.

“Share the detka,” Natasha whined, no longer content with being alone after sixty seconds. Wanda smirked, then taunted her, “I warned you, yet you still chose your silly freedom.”

“I didn’t want to lose my limbs!”

You giggled tiredly against Wanda’s bare chest, and she smiled widely at Natasha who was already wearing an adoring smile of her own.

“How are you feeling love?” Wanda whispered, and with the help of Nat she’d rolled you onto your back. For a moment you’d gathered the post sex confidence to speak, hut then piercing orbs of emerald stared down expectantly and the pure deepness of the green in them gave the allusion as if she was staring into your soul.

"I-I," you paused, taking in a massive inhale to steady your rapidly beating heart. The after effects of your multiple orgasms not helping your mind to process either. Natasha's cocky smirk hovering over your face wasn't helping, but Wanda's nails scratching over your side was. "What's on your mind there pretty girl?"

"Thank you."

Natasha frowned, and your brows turned down at the sight of her disappointed expression.

"Why are you thanking us?" Wanda asked the question on both of their minds. Suddenly you felt the weight of your former insecurities crashing back down on you, and for the first time since it happened you decided to be more open with them. "For being patient with me..."

"Oh sweetheart, that's not worthy of thanks," Wanda negated with a deep sigh. "You deserve nothing less than the bare minimum, and that is exactly what respecting your autonomy is."

You felt the warmth swarming around in your stomach, as if a case of butterflies had been released within you. The ability to be honest with them only furthered as you saw the loving look in their eyes that screamed of safety.

"And for," you paused momentarily, pouting your lips as you got your thoughts together. "For not making me feel bad for the ugly scars beneath my chest. Robin, they, um —..."

Neither women needed further explanation, it made both of them irate to think that the pain you felt last year, that nearly cost them you for good, was over something so grotesque.

"I'll kill them," Natasha growled, and you were not foolish enough to leave that unchecked. "Natty, I think that it's time we all move on. Robin is a thing of the past, and I'd like to keep them that way. I much prefer our future."

Our future rang out in all of your heads, and you smiled reassuringly up at them in truth.

Natasha settled on her side beside you, her arm crooked to hold her head up, and she reached out to grab your hand. She pulled it to her lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your fingertips before she was taking it lower. You quirked a brow, thinking this was a fast turn around into a round two, but then she settled your hand on her lower abdomen. You frowned at the feel of her mostly smooth skin being tarnished by the familiar ridges. Hers were a bit more faded, but the raise of the skin never planned to go away.

“We all have scars detka,” she spoke with a great sadness in her tone, but her smile reflected the hope that lived on inside her chest. “Some of ours we wear outside,” as she paused, Wanda turned your face to hers, and you held intimate eye contact as Nat finished, “Some of ours live in our souls, and for the three of us we’ve got a mix of both. They don’t define us detka, they’re just a piece of a story.”

“You’re beautiful now, just as you were then,” Wanda carried on the topic of discussion. She took a momentary reprieve so she could kiss your lips while her thumbs wiped away at the once budding tears that had began to fall. “We always saw you Y/N, when you were in that cell we just knew you were special, and every day since you’ve gotten out you’ve proven us right.”

“I love you guys so much,” you cried, and rolled into Natasha’s chest to hide your face. “We love you so much more Y/N,” Wanda challenged, and in a gentle sway she maneuvered herself behind you, and wrapped you up in her love. Natasha mirrored her exact sentiments with a contrast in approach as she pecked your tear stained cheeks, and ran a comforting hand up and down your side. “Now rest up angel..”

Wanda chuckled tiredly into her pillow then kissed your neck “We’re far from done detka…”

——

751 notes · View notes

inklore · 1 year

Text

premise: going to your works annual holiday party is the last thing you want to do. but javier has a way of easing the torture that comes from the social event. with his smile and with his tongue.

pairing: javier peña x (f)reader

word count: 1.2k+

warnings: established relationship, unprotected piv, f receiving oral, light degrading, spanking, biting, creampie, public-ish, dirty talk, this is the first time i’ve written for javi so that’s a warning all it’s own.

note: i want to wish a happiest of birthdays to my darling, my soul sister, my sister(wife), my soul mate @psychedelic-ink, you have brightened my life so much!! growing close to you has been the best part of my year and i can’t wait until you get to the states because i’m going to annoy the heck out of you with hugs! have a wonderful day bby <3

Holiday parties were about as fun as taking a trip to the dmv—to you at least. The loud overbearing Christmas harmonies, the drunken colleagues who always seemed to have way too many shots and shared more than you’d like to know about their lives outside of the office. Not to mention the obnoxious Santa Clause your boss insisted on having present, pulling people into his laps unwarranted.

Holiday parties at your office was an absolute nightmare.

But having Javier beside you wasn’t so bad. Made it less stressful to feel him at your side. His suit alone brings life into you where the party has failed—his arm wrapped around your hip, keeping you at his side, whispers in your ear of “you’re scowling again, corazón.” His tone sweet, teasing, as he pecks the skin below your ear.

If it weren’t for him you know you would have thrown your drink in Santa’s face hours ago.

You adored him for trying to lighten your mood. Him just being here made you feel lighter, more relaxed. And not just because he takes the lead in every conversation you try to avoid.

But only so many sweet words and convincing pecks, could help when you’ve heard the same Mariah Carey song for what feels like hours now.

That’s why when Javi pulls you into the bathroom, pushing your back to the wall, smirk devious and tempting: you don’t refuse. Don’t worry about your coworkers hearing you from the other side of the door. Not when he's giving you those bedroom eyes and his mouth is attached to your neck, sucking and biting the annoyance from tonight right out of you.

It doesn’t take long for him to have you bent over the sink. Your nails gripping the marble countertop as his hands roam up the backs of your thighs, to the start of your ass and over the round muscle. Pulling the bottom of your dress up until the cool air is nipping at your cheeks and the lace of your thong is the only clothed part of your lower half.

Javier crocheting down to sink his teeth into the skin of one of your cheeks. A hard palm squeezing the other before a stinging slap comes down on it, making you squeal. “Naughty girl,” he grins against your skin. Kissing his way to that part peaking between your pressed thighs, that part that is already wet and throbbing for him. “You should be out there mingling, being good, friendly.” His palm comes down on your ass again, making you press your hips higher in the air for him. The sting landing right on your center, lust burning straight through your insides. “Instead you’re in here about to be fucked.”

You whimper when he runs the flat of his tongue up your clothed pussy. His hands spread your cheeks and thighs just enough to give him the perfect angle to soak your panties more. To run the tip of his nose so close to your entrance you want to start begging. “My filthy girl.” He growls, hooking a finger into the material of your underwear to give himself access to your wetness.

Your moan echoing off of the walls when you feel his tongue run up your bare pussy. Sucking, licking, pushing a fingering into you. Your head back, legs shaking.

He eats you out like that for what feels like ages, centuries, until you’re a complete mess. Until you can hear the sounds of his fingers fucking you. The squelch of your arousal—of being so close to coming—likely to be heard over your moans. His tongue dives deep between your lips to find your clit, to wreck your body with even more trembles and fires of pleasure.

Your hand reaches back to keep him stationary there. To grip his hair. To grind your ass back against his tongue. To come—you’re so close, so so close. That burning in your belly about to absolve you of the foul mood you’ve been in all night. His tongue your salvation from going properly insane.

But just as that coil tightens, as that dam is about to burst: he stops.

Leaving you panting and whining against the marble of the sink.

Your eyes meet his in the mirror with a confused scowl. A look he returns with a simple smirk, arm wrapping around to splay the warmth of his palm against the column of your neck. Pulling your back to his chest, chin turned so your noses are brushing and you can almost taste yourself on his lips, as they brush against yours as he speaks.

“My cock is the only thing you’re coming on tonight, corazón.” His voice is filled with lust and gravel that has you mewling against his palm. Reaching out for his lips, which he is all too eager to oblige you with a passionate kiss. His tongue shares the taste of you on your tastebuds. Devouring your mouth like he did your cunt. “I think you’ve earned it tonight.”

Javier grins. Makes quick work of undoing his belt and freeing his cock to push inside of you hard, fast. Pulling the air from your lungs when he captures your mouth again, swallowing down your moan; loud, piercing, from being filled full so fast, so deliciously.

His pace makes your legs feel woozy. His hands keep you tight to his chest. Close enough to kiss, bite, and leave marks on your exposed skin when he wants to—needs to. Needs another taste of you, another touch of your trembling flesh against his tongue. Another breath moaned into his mouth. Another beg swallowed down.

You think you hear a knock at the door. Think you can hear someone's voice on the other side. But all you can feel is Javi.

All you can think about, breathe about, is him. How he’s fucking you, how good and absolutley filthy—and wrong—it is to have him take you like this. To have your entire office hear you beg him to let you come, beg him to fuck you harder; and to hear Javi’s grunts at the shell of your ear of how good he’s going to fill you up. How you’re going to walk around with him inside of you for the rest of the night.

“Every time you move you’ll feel me.” His teeth bite at your jaw, “they’ll all know. Know how filthy you are. How good you take my cock.”

“Javi,” you whimper. “Please.”

And it’s not pity he takes on you, it’s understanding, it’s a fucking gift to feel his palm move from your neck and press his fingers to your clit. Rubbing tight circles with the same rhythm of his hips; one, two, four times and you’re coming. His name echoing off the walls as you clench around him. His teeth digging into your shoulder blade as he follows right behind you; as you milk his cock.

He doesn’t let you move either. Keeps you pressed to him until you’ve come down, breath no longer heavy, eyes lidded in that after sex haze. You can feel his heart finally settle down against your back, just as you’re sure he can feel yours against his palm as he drags it back up your body.

“Pretty sure this’ll be your last year getting an invite to any parties.” He jokes, presses a kiss on the bite mark he’s left on your shoulder. A soft laugh shaking your chest,

“My hero,” you praise, smiling at him through the mirror.

#javier pena x y/n #javier peña x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena imagine #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena one shot #pedro pascal smut #javier pena fic #javier peña x you #javier peña smut #javier peña #narcos smut #narcos fic #javier peña imagine

948 notes · View notes

imagine-knowing-a-name · 1 year

Text

Til Death Do Us Part

Summary: Natasha is falling in love with someone she can’t be with, someone who might not even exist.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 1829

Warnings: Death, mentions of blood, talk of depression, Nat is not really taking the best care of herself.

A/N: I don’t know how this one will go down. It’s a bit different to my usual style, but 3rd person and present tense felt better for this, so that’s what I’ve gone with. Please leave a comment/reblog and let me know what you think! :) (oh also the Russian is from google translate, so it may be wrong)

————————————————————————————————–

Natasha had been little more than a toddler when she first heard it. The voice that comforted her on her deathbed, a figure that ebbed and flowed between invisibility, but whose presence she had always felt. They had tended to her, comforted her with the first gentle touch she had ever known, and treated her with a care the Red Room had never shown.

Natasha assumed the figure was her nurse, pulling her from the verge of death just to send her back to the torture of her training. But she saw them again, over and over through her youth, had conversations and shared jokes, talked through her days, and lived to make her friend laugh. Looking back she knew the friend, the figure whose care and comfort lured her back into life, had been no older than a child themself, just a friend that no others could see.

These days, Natasha was too old for imaginary friends. If she admitted that she still heard hers, she would be taken out of the field immediately and sent for a psych eval, which is why she didn't tell anyone. She's fine. She'll manage. She doesn't need a psychologist.

"Maybe you do," the voice says. Natasha groans, she doesn't need an imaginary voice to judge her too. "You're talking out loud," it continues, "and you're bleeding out. Again."

"And I don't need judgement when I'm at my weakest."

"That's the only time I can offer you judgement. It took a lot of energy to keep you living past 5, you know, so stop courting death."

"Maybe death wants a girlfriend," Natasha smirks, before doubling over in pain, her hand shooting to grasp the knife slash in her side. But blood still poured through her fingers, dyeing her hand the shade of crimson she was all too familiar with.

"Alright," the voice says, irritation bleeding through, "alright, fine." Before her, the figure started to form, not quite the same as in her childhood, this was someone her own age, and yet, as she studies their face, the similarities emerge. The same concerned eyes, the same teeth just visible through the same parted lips, the same gentle touch.

"You grew up," Natasha smiles, reaching out with a weak hand to grasp her friend's arm. Their greyish skin flickers at her touch, seeming more opaque the longer her hand brushes it.

"So did you," they smile back. Swiftly, they reach behind them and pull the bed sheets from their place; Natasha's hand falls to the floor and her head falls back against the wall. The figure hurries, offering Natasha a section of the sheet to bite down on, which she compliantly does, before the rest of the sheet is wrapped tightly around her waist. Natasha's pained groan is muted by the bedding, but she's been through worse, both people in the room know it. "Grow up a little more before your date with death, alright? They don't need you so young."

"We'll see how today goes before I can make that promise."

"Your friends are on their way, life isn't done with you yet."

"What about you? Are you going to go again?"

"I can never stay here long, but you hear me in your dreams, don't you? You'll find me there."

"Will you stay until they come?" Natasha pleads, but the figure before her is already fading; she can make out every detail of the cabinet that their body previously obscured. "Do you even have a name? What do I call you?"

"You may call me whatever you wish. You'll learn my true name one day."

"жизнь. Life. Because you've been saving me since I was born, and because you're not done with me yet. I won't let you be." Natasha sees Life smile, the expression seeming to linger one moment longer than the vanishing body.

The door bursts open and Natasha blinks, wiping away the last trace of her saviour from her sight. But then Clint is rushing in, and he's talking to her, asking her questions, but she's not listening. Natasha's gaze never wavers from where Life once was. Clint finally gives up and carries his friend to the jet outside, she can be treated there, her wound mended. She will live.

————————————————————————————————–

Late nights soon became the highlight of Natasha's day. She hurries to bed each night and drags herself lethargically away from it each morning. Her saviour had confirmed it, that the voice was more than just her imagination, it was her childhood friend, her guardian, her Life.

She sees them in her sleep each night, talking about things beyond her future and her past. Natasha talks about her day, her thoughts and dreams, her aspirations. Her companion says little, never telling her their name or what they are, but constantly engaging her in teasing conversations, with jokes that only come from a lifetime of friendship.

Natasha never wants to wake up. Her teammates notice this. The Black Widow, once renowned for taking any mission without complaint and finishing it no matter what, now grumbling if a mission cut into the night or, even worse, was scheduled all through the night. A lack of sleep never used to bother Natasha, but now she couldn't go a day without it.

She acts differently, but Natasha remains a spy. She hears what the others whisper about her when they think she's not around. They talk of depression and trauma, of fear and regret. They place bets on who can take her to therapy.

But Clint disagrees. "He should know," Natasha thinks. He'd seen her at her worst, when she'd just been freed from the Red Room. It should have been her happiest time, but that institute was all she'd known. Without it she had no purpose, no expectations of life, and, worst of all, she'd lost the voice of her nurse, that first saviour who taught her what it was to be kind. Natasha had fought the therapist then. She knows Clint won't try to bring her back, he already knows she doesn't need it, and she won't take it if she does.

He disagrees with the others. "No," he says, "don't you see her excitement in the evenings? That's not a lack of energy, that's love. And I'm going to find out who to." True to his word, a few days later Clint confronts Natasha, but what could she say?

"Yes, I fear I'm slowly falling in love with the disembodied voice in my head. No, I'm certain they're real because otherwise you would have entered that cabin and found me dead, not wrapped up in a bedsheet."

Nothing Natasha could say would make that sound believable, and even Clint would force her into therapy for expressing that.

"I'm falling in love," Natasha says instead, talking slowly to stop herself from slipping up on her words, "with somebody I can't have."

Clint's expression morphs into sympathy, and he opens his mouth to speak before Natasha cuts him off. "That is the last I want to speak of it, so go tell the others you were right, and forget the rest of what I said."

Clint nods, then walks off, leaving Natasha alone with her thoughts. She's not sure she enjoys it anymore, Clint's pestering would have been annoying, but now she has to face her own acceptance. She said she was falling in love, but that wasn't true. Natasha knows she is already in love, and there is nothing more she can do but continue to talk to her жизнь.

————————————————————————————————–

The sky is foreboding, and the rock ahead of them looks deadly, but the return of half the population depends on Natasha and Clint climbing to the top. So climb they did. "Natasha," your voice says. The assassin startles, muttering "жизнь?" before she can catch herself. Clint turns to her and his eyes soften as he watches. Unbeknownst to Natasha, he had heard her midnight conversations, and the nickname she had given her love: ‘Life’.

"Are they here?" he asks her. Natasha nods. "No wonder you couldn't track them down. They project their voice into your head and follow us to Space's version of the middle of nowhere. That's not normal, Nat, what are they if they're capable of that?"

"You tried to find me?" The voice teases in Natasha's mind. The assassin blushes, a rare sight that has Clint turning away in fear of accidentally intruding.

"You don't speak about yourself, жизнь. I don't know what you are, I hardly remember what you look like, and you think I wouldn't try to find out more on my own?"

"The day you know will not be a good day, but I fear it is coming soon."

"It will be worth it all, anything that happens."

"Not for me," the voice says gravely, "I don't want the day to come."

Any reply Natasha could form was cut off when a spectral figure approached. The assassin's heart soars high, to begin with, convinced it is the figure she so rarely sees. It explains why their voice is so much louder on this planet after all. But the hood lowers, and a red-stained skull comes into view. It reminds Natasha of her own blood, the sight of it painting her saviour's sickly grey skin a lively shade of crimson red. One of them must jump, the spectre explains. A sacrifice. Natasha and Clint wouldn't be getting out of this together, as they had been for so many years. This time, one of them had to die.

————————————————————————————————–

"You're here," Natasha concludes out loud. This wasn't a coincidence, her saviour rarely appeared while Natasha was fully conscious, only at sleep or near death. And this time, they were louder than they had ever been.

"Yes," the voice answers, slowly, as if they don’t want to speak the rest, "and I wait at the bottom. But don't rush to meet me."

Finally, it clicks. The appearances weren't random, they followed a distinct pattern. In only one scenario was her "Life" always present, and if luck went her way, the scenario would re-enact for the final time. At that moment, she knows who they are, who she has been in love with all this time. Natasha doesn't falter, nor does she heed her saviour's advice. Natasha jumps. She falls. And she dies.

Clint sobs from above, knowing that losing in combat has cost him his best friend. But below, a whole different scene plays out. Natasha stands up, eyes instantly locking on the cloaked spectre before her. Beneath the hood, Natasha makes out a skeleton face, and boney hands peek out from the cloak's billowing sleeves. Looking closer, Natasha sees past the outfit, past the skeletal structure, and looks into your eyes, finding in them the ever-present concern that had saved her so many years ago.

“So you see me again.” They sigh, but to Natasha, their voice is a familiar comfort. “Hello, Natasha… My name is Death.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #mcu #ikan writes #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff imagine

173 notes · View notes

nexility-sims · 4 months

Text

𝐍𝐎. 𝟑 ❛ 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ❜ | QUEEN'S OFFICE, MID MARCH 1991

❧ 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 / 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 / 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

❛ Beatriz, like her grandmother before her, lived by the belief that Uspana was her true firstborn. When her daughter’s mourning period concluded, she returned to work on its behalf. She was not a simple figurehead. Her job was not to pose for pictures, to fundraise money for good causes, to lift the spirits of the weary with a benevolent smile. She did the work of a statesman, and she did it well. She was a politician. On any given day, her attention divided in a thousand directions—domestic versus foreign affairs, diplomacy and economics, tempestuously petty interpersonal dynamics on which national matters of life and death too often depended. Staff abounded to keep it all in order, but Beatriz had always been a hands-on executive. She knew what skeletons lurked in the closets of allies and adversaries alike, and she knew the details of bills and proposals less careful eyes overlooked. She enjoyed sparring with representatives. She harangued her ministers for sport. It wasn’t ideology that drove her so much as the desire to win. More than merely dedicated, the queen thrived in the high-stakes, head-spinning world of governance. It was one in which her weaknesses were strengths. The people of Uspana knew her reputation, but most of them credited it with the long era of stability that she seemed to have held together, almost single-handedly, through sheer force of will.

❧ TAKE TWO FUCK TUMBLR i took the screenshots for this ages ago, and !!!!! i wish that i’d had the time and energy to redo it, but :/ fine enough to just post. i wish i could say beatriz gets better, but ... idk, man, this is just who she is, which sucks sdkfshj

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

TRANSCRIPT:

{Conversation}

[L] She canceled again, didn’t she?

[B] Not quite. It’s business as usual, is all. They’re taking a coffee break in a moment, so she’ll see you for a few minutes then. [L] {scoffs} Of course.

[B] Look at you. Such a tired trio.

[B] I’m glad to see your faces. These last several weeks have been difficult for everyone. Time to come together.

[B] That’s what I wanted to share with you. Everything is the same for us—well, except for you three. How can we have orphans in a family so large? That’s how you feel, I presume.

[B] You don’t know this, but he had all sorts of inquiries about Safya’s estate within mere days of … Well. Mourning is over, and there is a definitive, sweeping answer. An eviction, in fact. That was her home, and I intend to preserve it as such indefinitely.

[L] I don’t understand. What about Gil and Mateo? [B] You would understand if you let me finish, Leonor. Anyway, this is hardly your concern. You wanted to live alone.

[B] Boys, you will take up residence at Nakawe Palace. Damian and Julian are there, Arnaut’s pair will be around … You will be with me, with your grandfather—right where you ought to be. [G] Mother Beatriz, will Papa be there?

[B] These apartments are for those who belong to the Crown. You belong. Some others do not. [G] Can he visit? [M] We’ll still see him, Gil.

[B] Before you get any ideas: don’t mistake this for a discussion. I was just going to send a moving van to pick you up, but your grandfather was convinced that would be somehow cruel.

[B] Leonor, give me a moment. I have something to say.

[B] Why would you go out like this? They’ll notice. [L] Who will? [B] Come on now. The papers, obviously.

[B] You look awful. To start, go home and wash your hair. These things matter.

[B] They’re going to eat you alive. Do you hear me? They will because they can, and there’s little I can do about it. [L] {softly} They already are …

[B] Exactly. This is my one warning. Let’s not disappoint.

[M] Why didn’t you say anything? [L] Why didn’t you? [M] That’s not fair.

[L] Don’t call him. He should hear everything from her people. It’ll be easier for everyone that way.

[M] Easier? You know that’s not true.

[M] Wait—where are you going? We have plans!

[M] Leonor!

40 notes · View notes

donaweasley · 1 year

Text

A Walk in the Dark

Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Plot:

After an awkward incident involving your one and only crush George Weasley, he tries to sort the uncomfortable situation out. But will it lead to some revelations or...just a heartache?

Previous chapter: Everything is Fair in Love and War

Warnings: Teenage, high school fluff.

Read time: ~10 mins

Note: I've assumed that the reader is 14 years of age here but you're free to put in any number you like! And you can put the reader in any house you wish to!

Next story in the sequence coming up!!

The morning was eventful, with Fred, Ron, Ginny and Molly of all people, assuming that George and (Y/N) had shared their first kiss in the redhead’s room while the rest were downstairs. Yes, pretty much embarrassing, given the fact that the visitor was buried deep in her humongous crush on her said best friend. And disappointing, too, given that George was furious at them, which subsequently made her conclude that he was repelled at the thought of any kind of romance with his best friend.

The rest of the day was awkward. (Y/N)’s heart was wearing a frown but she had to keep her bubbly personality up to show everyone that she didn't give a damn about who thought what about George and her. She did, to be honest, give a damn...or two...quite a lot, actually. George had calmed down but she found him being slightly uncomfortable around her. She attributed it to her own dejected mind, and called it a figment of her imagination.

After dinner that night, when they were all seated in the living room, George slipped in to sit beside his bestie for a brief moment.

"Wait until everyone's gone", he breathed into her ear. His warmth, once again, aroused those tickles in her stomach which had taken the poor girl almost all day to quieten.

For the rest of the night, she couldn't focus on the conversation anymore as her head was muddled with questions as to why he might have asked her to stay back.

Why?

"You okay, (Y/N)?" She almost jumped out of her seat when Ginny called her.

"What? Yeah. Yes. I'm okay. Just...just thinking that I haven't called my parents for two days now. I should call them tomorrow. Can you please remind me?"

"Yup. Okay!" She smiled reassuringly.

"Great! So we're all going out tomorrow evening", Ron's face brightened up.

As the night grew older, the group of friends became more and more tired, and most of them eventually retired to bed. Had (Y/N) not been on the verge of imploding, she would have probably fallen asleep on the couch.

The twins and (Y/N) were usually the last to go to bed. So, there they were, seated on the floor near the couch. Fred was just about to jump to another topic when George stopped him.

"Fred, you go, I'll be coming in a while", he said.

Fred stared at his twin as if the latter had grown another head.

"After what you did this morning, I don't owe you an explanation. I owe you a prank. Pulled on you", George clarified before Fred could ask anything.

This made her giggle.

"Fine, I'm going but..." Fred tried to feign a tragic face.

"That's okay, brother, I won't make out with her", the younger twin put an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder.

"Hey!" Thoroughly embarrassed, she tried to give him an offended look.

"What? You want me to make out with you?"

She just prayed that neither of them would see the heat creeping up her ears.

"Shut up, George. It's not funny."

Fred sat there staring at the duo with furrowed brows while George and (Y/N) chuckled nervously.

"Alright, then", Fred finally spoke up, "I'll leave. (Y/N), I hope that you won't break my heart." Very theatrically, the older twin put a hand over his chest.

"I'll remember, drama queen!"

With a quick hug, Fred left her with his brother but not before glancing at them over his shoulder with a wicked smile plastered on his face. And once again, George and (Y/N) descended into that uncomfortable silence.

"So?" She broke the silence.

"So..."

George pondered for a while.

"Care for a walk?" He finally said.

"Now? This late?"

"Don't worry, I won't bite", he winked, and she melted into a puddle beside him. It was a relief that he didn't notice.

Probably. Hopefully.

"It's not your bite that I fear, mister. It's the...dogs...and other..things", She said quietly.

"You mean, ghosts?"

"Shh!"

George laughed. "You forget that you're living with a ghoul here!"

(Y/N) shuddered at the mere thought of it. She had never seen it although the sounds and the stories were enough to scare the shit out of her.

"Really?" George was still laughing, "after all these years of living with ghosts at the school, you're still scared?"

"They are ghosts of Hogwarts! They are a part of the school. Okay, I'll go. Let's drop this topic. Right. Now."

"Alright! But I can't guarantee anything."

"Guarantee what?"

"Well...y'know...about what we might meet on the way."

"Shut up! I'm not scared! I'll have you by my side!" She wrapped an arm around his.

"Aha? What if I am not me...?"

"Shove off!" She pushed him away. "I'm not going anywhere with you!"

George was laughing. "Okay! Okay! Come."

He pulled her up and gently pushed her towards the door.

It was refreshing outside. The moon was a thin curve against the clear starlit sky. The cool breeze and the quietude soon made (Y/N) forget the events of the day and the turmoil in her mind calmed down a bit. But as soon as George stepped beside her, her “stupid” mind - as she called it - transformed the entire scenario into a romantic one.

Ugh!

"It was getting stuffy inside", George smiled.

"Yes, it was...kind of. … Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"Why you brought me here, of course."

"Why? Can't a guy ask his best friend out on a walk?" He feigned hurt.

She rolled my eyes, "Of course, he can. But you forget that I know you only too well to know when you simply need a walk and when you're bursting to say something."

He smiled sheepishly, "Caught me, huh?"

"As always!"

"Okay", he inhaled deeply, and the butterflies in her stomach started fluttering violently in anticipation.

"This might sound odd. No, it's definitely going to sound odd", he chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.

Oh, those usual signs of nervousness! But why is he nervous?

Inside her head, a voice was screaming in anticipation, "Oh! C'mon, just say it Georgie!!"

"Okay, look. What happened in the morning...y'know with my family saying those weird things and all...well, you're not mad, are you?"

"What? No! Not at all!" She tried to sound absolutely casual. "Why?"

"No, it's just...it was awkward, and..."

"And?"

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, "I noticed that you were a bit off after that. So..."

"Oh!" She had to come up with a lie, and quickly. "I was just thinking that...umm... it's so much fun at your house, and I'll have to leave in 5 days. Yeah. That was what made me sad." She gave him her widest smile.

He smiled back, clearly not convinced at the flimsy explanation, "You sure?"

"Yes. Of course." She noticed him looking suspiciously at her, and so she looked away.

"You looked somewhat uncomfortable yourself. All okay?" She smartly diverted the questions towards him.

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine”, he replied nervously.

"You sure?" She tried to mimic him.

George laughed, "Yes. It's just that", he stopped walking, "I was worried about what you might be thinking. You looked slightly upset."

He was looking at anywhere but her, and shifting his weight on his feet. "I don't want to lose my best friend, y'know", he finally looked at her after a pause.

"Best friend", She thought. "I wish I were a little more than that to you, Georgie."

"You won't", She smiled and took his hand in hers. "Never." She held out her pinkie towards him.

"Pinkie promise?" He laughed. "Really?"

"Umm, yeah! Let's say this is our version of the unbreakable vow."

"Okay", he locked his pinkie with hers, "done!"

"Done!"

They both laughed. And then somewhere in that happy moment the laughter faded away and was replaced by silence. A comfortable silence where only their eyes and smiles spoke. For a moment (Y/N) thought that she saw the same love in his eyes as she held for him.

But no. That’s impossible. He has just confirmed it himself. I’m his best friend. Only his best friend.

She decided to act before her emotions got the better of her.

"Let's go", She tugged lightly on his little finger which was still locked with hers.

"Oh!" His smile dropped, "You're sleepy?"

"No. I just...I don't know. You want to stay here longer? I don't mind. It's pretty nice out here anyway"

"No, it's okay, we can go. No problem. Besides, who knows what might be lurking in the shadows." He looked around with a frown but his eyes shouted "mischief".

"Ha ha! You can't scare me, Weasley. Besides, I have my best friend with me. He'll protect me", She smiled at him.

"Yeah, you can count on that", he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

I wish you knew what you're doing to me, Georgie!

"So", he spoke in that peculiar tone which was always followed by a mischief, "I remember you saying that you are not afraid of...my bite!"

For the God-knows-how-many-times that day her ears heated up again.

"Where are you headed exactly?" She asked him with furrowed brows.

"Just saying", he shrugged, "what if I'm a vampire in disguise? See, I have brought you this far from home, on a dark night, in the wee hours. And I'm so attractive that you couldn't say no to me. Now", he leaned closer, "what if I grow fangs and-"

She punched his chin.

"Ow! You little villain, you!"

"Oh! Did the little, weak human hurt the mighty vampire?"

He groaned.

"Now stop that acting, and let's go home before they start thinking that we have gone off snogging again."

At this, George straightened up and forgot all about his drama. (Y/N) raised a brow at him. Smiling sheepishly, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder once again, and they started off towards the Burrow.

"You know, George, if you try to scare me once again, I'll bite you."

George chuckled, "I wish!"

"What?" She froze.

"What?" His eyes were as big as saucers.

(Y/N) stared at him. "What did you just say?"

"What did I just say?" He gulped nervously. "I said 'you wish!'. Yes, I said 'Hah! You wish!'"

"Noooo..." She was sure she heard something else.

"Oh! (Y/N), you're hearing things. What else would I say? Come now, let's get inside before you start seeing things."

He pulled her towards his home which was now only a few more steps away. His words were still ringing in her ears. She looked up at him. Even in the dark, she could make out the tint of pink on his cheeks.

What the hell is going on?

They stepped inside, and George carefully locked the door.

"Care for some snacks?" He asked a bit nervously.

"Nope. I'll just get some sleep."

"Yeah. Me too."

He walked her till Ginny's door.

"Alright, good night, mate", he held out his fist.

"Good night", she punched it lightly.

Instead of heading upstairs to his room, George still stood there as if debating with his thoughts. Both the twins and (Y/N) usually hugged before going to bed but given the incidents of the day, it wouldn't be a surprise if they were having second thoughts.

After watching George's unrest state for a few seconds, she decided to drop her guard and take action.

"Hey", she touched his arm, "come here."

She wrapped her arms around his waist. It seemed to work instantly because she felt him relax. The next second, his long arms had her enveloped in a bear hug, swaying her lightly.

"Thanks", he smiled when they pulled apart.

"Idiot!"

"What? Why?"

"Nothing. Now go. It's pretty late."

He stood there, waiting for an explanation.

"Goooo!" She turned him around and pushed him.

He laughed, "Okay, as you say. Good night!"

"Good night", she smiled.

That night, (Y/N) went to bed with a heavy heart, knowing that the boy on whom she had been crushing for so many months now, sees her only as his best friend.

That night, George went to bed wondering if he had let go of the only chance of conveying his feelings to the girl who he had been in love with for over a year now.

***

Taglist:

@olivetheoryx @yep4nai @scram1326 @ariaterum @persephone13 @gimme-gimme-georgie-weasley @nunanuggets @lolhelpimtired @madmadgirlperson @dontfallinlovelol @r4ttusr4ttus @emilykolchivans @queerponcho @loveforweasley @turvi @lovers-111 @waitforiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit @justafangir1 @the-holy-trinity-l @minatozsana @baddiebbarbietngz @moomscore

#george weasley #weasley twins #george weasley x reader #harry potter imagine #hogwarts fandom #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem #george weasley fluff #george weasley cute #george weasley fic #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fandom #george weasley love #george weasley series

99 notes · View notes

zgvlt · 2 years

Text

acquired tastes trey clover x reader

summary: how food has brought you and trey together as friends, and later on as something more

tags: gender neutral reader, sfw, fluff, friends to lovers, 3.2k+ words, kissing, not descriptive but food is mentioned a lot, not beta read

author’s note (see end notes for more): The second fic to my five senses series. also, i did not write half of this sober oops and still not very sober, so if you see any typos... i will fix them when i can

[you can also read this on AO3]

You had shocked everyone the day you called him your husband, although nobody was more shocked than he was. As far as he was aware, he was not even your boyfriend, so being handed the title of your husband felt like… a promotion through nepotism and bribery.

The nepotism equating to his being your close friend, the bribery being the food he began to habitually make for you. Honestly, it hadn’t even occurred to him that it happened so often that once-in-a-while gifts and favors had turned into routine and grateful expectations.

“Husband?!”

And of all people you had to say it in front of, it just had to be Riddle, who was somehow more flustered than he was… which was saying quite a lot, considering he was one wrongly-timed swallow away from choking. That would probably lead to the both of you getting lectured by his childhood friend.

Well, Trey thought to himself, he was probably going to get dragged into this conversation anyway, and he had no real plans of being in opposition to it.

There wasn’t like he had much to explain, considering he was relatively curious as well.

“Oh, you know, like a work husband… but for school?”

“A what?! Why would you have a separate spouse for work?” asked Riddle, and Trey wondered why you would even think that Riddle would know what a work husband was. “Or is it like the opposite of a stay-at-home husband? So… if it’s for school, a student husband? I know that Trey had his birthday recently, but that’s still…”

“Okay, okay, I’m not married. No one is, Riddle,” Trey finally interrupted, not sure he would like the way his friend’s train of thought was heading.

“I don’t actually think the two of you are married,” Riddle said with a huff, although Trey’s not quite sure he buys it completely. Perhaps that had been Riddle’s attempt at mocking a friend? “It’s just… a weird choice for an endearment for two people of your age.”

“I mean, in this case it’s less endearment and more… It’s just an expression for two people who share a close relationship, and those two happen to work together. A relationship as friends.”

“Yeah! It’s like… because Trey is so supportive and trustworthy and kind and—”

“Okay, I know you want to help explain, but aren’t you saying too much?” Trey interjected, self-consciousness growing as he watched the look of realization slowly appear on Riddle’s face. What exactly was being realized Trey could not determine, but he doubted it was anything short of embarrassing.

“—and Trey also makes the best pastries and desserts, and he’s also gotten pretty good at making lunch as well, and also he’s…” you trailed off upon catching his eye, as if you saw something to convince you enough compliments had been said, “basically, he’s wonderful and the epitome of an ideal partner in marriage, or just partner in general. So, you know, school husband!”

After a moment of silence, likely held for Trey more than anyone else, Riddle nodded his head in understanding.

“Not that I don’t agree, because I would say Trey possesses the qualities you speak of, but… isn’t husband quite a step too far? People will get visceral reactions,“ case in point, Riddle, “so why don’t you just call him your–”

“Riddle, fifteen minutes have passed since you’ve finished your meal. Shouldn’t we all head out of the hall now?”

Heartslabyul’s vice dorm leader never thought he would bring up the rules like this, especially in front of Riddle who he wished would stop following the rules too much, but he realized he was not against doing so if it helped him escape a tough situation.

As Riddle grumbled over how he was less than a minute away from breaking a rule, he did not miss the pointed stare you threw him.

“Maybe Riddle has a point. Should I just call you my school boyfriend, then?”

Boyfriend or husband, one thing stayed the same—Trey could not say he minded you considering him as either one, and that fact had served as the primary reason as to why he did not stop you from calling him as such.

It was easy to see where it had all begun—easy for him to see, at the very least.

It had to be the night you chose to sneak into Heartslabyul's kitchen, far past bedtime, perhaps not quite realizing that he would still be in there, busy making sure every tart and cake would be put into the refrigerator for cooling, that no one would go steal something without replacing it.

He tried not to make a habit of staying up too late for anything other than academics, but he supposed some habits were meant to be broken once or twice or every once in a while. Maybe he should be thankful he had been awake that night, only because he didn’t think he could ever have gotten close to you otherwise.

“Midnight snacking?” he had asked calmly, only really staring you down to make sure the food you retrieved wouldn’t be needed for tomorrow’s unbirthday party. On that note… were there actually any? His dorm’s first years were growing boys who enjoyed large portions, so premade food was usually low in quality. “Just make sure to brush your teeth after.”

“Will do~” he remembered you agreeing quite easily, too busy opening cupboard to cupboard in search of something edible to argue against the importance of good dental hygiene. By the disappointed look on your face, though, it was evident you couldn’t find any outside of the ingredients he often used in baking.

To this day, Trey wonders if he would have stopped you then if you had asked to take some of the berries and chocolates reserved for pastries, or if he would have offered you a tart of your choosing from the selection to be served later that afternoon.

“You usually aren’t here this late, so I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“So you’ve been here past midnight more than a few times?”

You had only laughed, although it appeared as though you were more ashamed of admitting it to him rather than the actions themselves.

“On occasion,” you had replied with a hum, quietly eyeing him as he worked away with the last tray of dough. Back then, he had expected you to ask him for one—perhaps you were, wordlessly, a stare that remained intense even as you innocently batted your eyes at him. “Would you kick me out, then?”

“I’m not doing that,” he shrugged, more concerned over the fact that someone else was up this late rather than curfews or rule-breaking or anything of the sort, “but you should probably go back to bed. I can’t send you off with anything to eat, but what about a drink? Tea, milk, hot cocoa…?”

Trey remembers what you asked for, of course but what had really stuck in his mind was the way you gave him a knowing smile—he had never really had the chance to properly talk to you before then, but there you were, smiling at him like you’ve known him for years, like you understood him and his very being.

“Trey is a really caring person, isn’t he?”

Because Trey has been far gone for far longer than he would like to admit, he’s increasingly lenient with you. That’s not to say he just lets you get away with whatever you want (although you’ve never actually asked for something unreasonable before) but he definitely lets you get away with more things than he should.

“Now that’s not very nice,” Trey chided playfully… or, what he presumed had come off as playful. People tended to take his jokes seriously, and by the way you froze mid-scoop of the batter, he really did think you thought he was actually scolding you. Seriously, what had become of his reputation… “as long as the spoon is clean and you don’t double scoop, you can taste it.”

“Ah, I mean, I can just wait,” you laughed awkwardly, as though you felt bad all of a sudden, “geez, now it’s coming off as if I’m expecting you to give me… whatever it is you’re making.”

“Because you do expect it, and I always end up giving you some of everything,” Trey said, perhaps more self-aware than you at this moment. “I don’t mind, really, it’s always nice to get a second opinion.”

“Why are you making it sound like it’s my fault you give in so quickly?” you said, giving him an accusatory glance, “and hello, we know you’re confident when it comes to sweets. You’re wonderful 99% of the time—”

“Just 99%...?”

“—and the other 1%, you can just use your UM. You messing up is not even in the realm of possibilities.”

“Well, that aside, you were going to taste it if I didn’t catch you, so might as well?”

It takes Trey a while to realize what he’s really doing. He’s conscious enough to know that he’s grabbing a spoon from one of the drawers, to know that he’s scooping up a small but sufficient serving of batter with it. It’s only when the spoon is already against your lips that he recognizes the implications of his actions. What’s more, he can’t even retract his hand, not when you take a small bite, ultimately spoon fed by him.

Both of you look shocked—at each other’s actions, and at the actions you yourselves have committed. With the way the both of you reacted, it was as though some obscure rule by the Queen of Hearts had been broken, although from the half that Trey had memorized, he sincerely doubted it.

What question had prevailed more in Trey’s head—the question of why he tried to give you a taste in that manner, or why you took a bite anyway instead of calling him out immediately?

“Aha, um, Trey–”

“It’s not what you think,” Trey immediately cut in, trying to look for a justification. Perhaps he should have thought harder, taking the time to word an explanation in his head rather than simply pouring his thoughts out like piping hot tea. “It’s not that I think of you as one of my siblings or as a kid. That’s not it at all.”

He said it as if that was the pressing matter, the misunderstanding to be avoided.

Perhaps it was, by the way your confused expression changed into relief with just a lingering hint of surprise.

“That’s… pfft, that’s good to know. Thank you for letting me know, Trey.”

Trey’s not dense—he knows why his juniors have begun teasing him (and you), he knows the reason behind Vil’s snickering near-perfectly covered by his gloved hand, and he recognizes the inspiration behind the countless poems Rook has insisted he listen to.

The both of you, he thinks, are sensible people (sensible enough to not repeat the same actions in public, to keep everything in the kitchen—although he’s had one or two close calls, usually when you can’t help yourself from joking about it), but sense and sensibility can only go so far when his mouth listens less to the brain and more to the heart.

“Sure, I gotcha,” Trey agreed, not quite grasping what he’d committed to doing until the words leave his lips, “I’ll make lunch for you tomorrow.”

By all means it probably should not sound so big a deal—he made you small snacks and sweets all the time, taste and ingredients used adjusted to your liking. There was no denying anymore that those were for you specifically, not just things he was willing to give you bite-sized portions of.

But a meal was a big deal. The moment sugar and flour get taken away from the recipe, Trey’s confidence dwindles in his abilities.

Not completely. He’s decent in regular cooking, just as he thinks himself decent in most things, but just decent would be troublesome in the long run. There was the Salisbury steak he specialized in, some variations of that, and the recipes he learned from the cooking elective program, but what would happen after that?

Yes, Trey knows that once he cooks lunch for you, there will be more and more times—whether it be by your request or his own volition—where he cooks you breakfast, or lunch, or dinner. Trey understands himself quite well, after all, so that much is just an inevitability.

Should he search up recipes online, or should he consult the books in the library? He could send a text message to his parents and hope that he’ll sound normal enough—though they might question his intent considering there’s plenty of cooked food for purchase and consumption at school…

“Wait, you don’t have to,” you protest, “wow, I can’t believe I’m actually protesting receiving food from you, but… isn’t that a waste of time? I should at least pay you.”

Trey’s natural instinct is to outright refuse. He doesn’t do these things to gain something out of it, just does it because he can; that your time and the evident admiration you hold for him—whatever extent that may truly be—was more than enough payment, enough to convince him to keep going.

His and your respective actions hurt neither one of you, so there was no reason to stop.

Trey’s second instinct is to joke, to tell you that you could pay for the ingredients, perhaps ask for an incredibly absurd amount of money that would be easily understood as a joke even with his line delivery.

He does neither. Instead, he asks—

“Maybe you could help me make lunch instead?”

The both of you are in the kitchen again. At some point, it had become common knowledge that if anyone needed to find either one of you, the first and best place to look would be Heartslabyul’s kitchen.

With all the time spent there, people would assume the both of you were cooking 24/7… but how sorely mistaken they would be.

Not to say there were no attempts, it was just… slow. Particularly when there was no schedule to be followed or deadline to be had.

Trey’s not one to push blame onto one person even for the most obvious of faults, definitely not so candidly, but the turn of events would be more your fault than his. It was a current that Trey did not get caught up in, but rather a flow he willingly went along with.

“Boyfriend, huh?” Trey asked, absentmindedly flipping through the recipe book displayed on the stand. The cake to be served for this afternoon’s unbirthday party had already been prepared, simply cooling in the fridge and waiting to be served, so there was no real reason to be looking through the pages.

If you asked, he was simply thinking about dinner… even though the book was primarily for sweets and pastries.

“Actually, it was husband first, and then boyfriend,” you corrected.

“Yeah, almost forgot my demotion there for a sec… or was it meant to be some form of promotion?”

“Not really, they’re the same thing. I was just letting you choose which one you liked more,” you laughed, opening the fridge to retrieve the sweets to be served in just a bit. That was the reason both of you were in the kitchen, after all, to get the food and not to chat, not to tease and be teased, and certainly not… would this classify as flirting?

Yes, absolutely yes. He supposed he’s just been lulled to the idea that you simply do act differently with him, but there are certain things that you do and say that are new, as if something had finally clicked for you.

As for Trey, something’s clicked for him too.

“Hmm… I suppose I’ll leave the choice to you,” Trey replied, pretending to look for the cake knives. He knows where they are, he’s simply… stalling. He wouldn’t call himself a coward, but building up courage requires time away from you in his line of sight. “But aren’t you worried?”

“Of what? Having other people hear?” you seemed to find his question funny, and he could imagine you rolling your eyes behind his back. “I said it in front of Riddle. The only reaction worse would be Ace’s—he’d pretend to be nauseated by us all the time if he heard.”

“Haha, yeah, but that’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean, then?”

“I mean, won’t you… people are going to think I’m actually your boyfriend, so there’ll be less people approaching you,” he said. While he wasn’t exactly satisfied with his wording choice, he thought it got the job done without having to outright ask you directly.

“Ah, I thought it was already obvious that I don’t care about that?” If that wasn’t enough of a green light, you continued, “I… Do I seem interested in others, Trey?”

“Not really, no,” Trey answered with a surprising amount of ease. With how much time he had spent around you, he would notice… and he would admit with the slightest bit of a flush that he was aware that your eyes weren’t wandering around, looking for some other student you were interested in. You kept them on him and when they were not, he kept his own on you.

“I just needed to make sure.”

“Okay… and now that you’re sure, what will you do about it?”

He pushed the question back to you, “what do you want to do about it?”

He finally turned to face you again, but your eyes did not meet his, not at first. You looked down at the cake on the table, a pretty purple thing with his favorite candies violets topping it.

“I’ll tell you some other time,” you responded. Without missing a beat, leaving no room for Trey to be disappointed, you added, “what I want right now… is a taste.”

Trey does not need to clarify what you pertain to, not when you blatantly look back up in time. Instead, he asks, “are you sure?”

You nod, and he takes a deep breath, holding it, a second for each step towards you.

“Alright.”

You taste like the biscuits he gave you earlier—that’s the first thing Trey notices the instant his lips touched yours. There are other things, of course, like the spinning of his head and beating of his heart, and some other descriptions he would be able to write out if he had been granted the ability to wax poetic, but it is that lingering taste he focuses on.

It should be embarrassing how much he likes the idea—and more than just the idea—of it, the taste of his cooking in your mouth. Egotistic, something that provides him an unnecessary amount of pride.

But he likes it for the mere fact that it reminds him of what brought you together in the first place. It is a simple reason, but it is reason enough for him to keep his lips hovered over yours, as if ready to go for another should you allow it.

You laughed, the movement and breath felt against his skin. Then, still quite joyfully, you murmured, “you taste like toothpaste… and maybe mouthwash, too.”

“Sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” you said, shaking your head, “it reminds me of you, so I like it.”

my other trey fic and the sequel to the other trey fic end notes | masterlist of all my works | series masterlist

[1] This WHOLE thing... the original plan was just to have them kiss and for reader to go "haha you taste like mouthwash", yeah I just wanted to clown on Trey, but then I decided to give them some plot. It's quite standard and not exactly original, I admit, but hopefully it gives some background on how they see each other and their dynamic.

[2] This will probably be my last Trey x Reader for a while… meaning this year. I like him a lot, but it's time to put some focus on other characters, lol. I have characters I've yet to write for, so I should complete my WIPs for them.

[3] The fic banner… I chose the design because candied violets are Trey's favorite food. The cake I was imagining was ube (purple yam) and chocolate cheesecake, topped with candied violets… although I only put one in the design, lol. I got lazy to add more, sorry!

[4] Title Choice: acquired tastes… I usually take a while to figure out a title, but I knew this was the title I wanted even before writing out the fic. I just like how it's like they have acquired a taste of each other, but also they are each other's types -> to their tastes, but also just… food therefore taste. Yeah.

[5] Reading Trey's birthday story, I thought it was amusing that people took his jokes seriously, so I wanted to write Trey more playfully here. Reader is also playful in a different way than Trey, so because their teasing styles are different they get affected by each other, lol.

[6] Like I mentioned, I wanted to get this out for Trey's birthday, but I figured that this wouldn't be very good at all if I tried to make it to the deadline. Anyway, this was originally written for the Five Senses Mini Series I have and not his birthday, so I decided to take my time.

#trey clover x reader #trey clover x you #twst x reader #trey clover #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #twst x you #twst imagines #nathya twst writing #disney twisted wonderland

358 notes · View notes

hannahssimblr · 6 months

Text

Chapter Three (Part 3)

When Marnie takes me back to the booth, there are even more people there than before. A crowd of hipsters have joined us, all looking like members of Vampire Weekend, and I scoot in next to one of them; a mousy haired boy with glasses called Stephen, who asks me what I want to drink, and then has no issue with ordering one of the lewdly named cocktails for me.

“So you’re also an artist?” He wants to know.

“Yeah I’m doing art and design. Hoping to get a bachelors in Illustration.”

“Illustration like books?”

“Yeah kinda. Sometimes.” My drink arrives with a flourish, the waiter making a big show of presenting it to me by lifting a glass dome from the top of it, letting a cloud of dry ice waft onto the table. It’s all very over dramatic and frankly embarrassing, and everyone makes noises like they’re dead impressed, but I just snatch it up and take a mouthful. I’m still feeling so rattled from seeing Jen that even my eyes are having a hard time focusing.

Stephen is talking about the illustrations in some book from his childhood, but as he’s talking to me I kind of zone out and chew on the end of my straw, trying to decide whether or not there’s actually something wrong with me. I make a mental note to anxiety-google my symptoms later, wondering whether a churning stomach and palpitating heart are normal responses to talking to someone you used to know. Jen and I can’t be friends again, I decide. Being around her would up my chances of colliding with Jude Turner tenfold, and I don’t think my body could physically handle the stress of that encounter.

I realise Stephen is waiting for me to say something, and I shake myself back to life. “What?”

“Oh, sorry, I know it’s loud in here. I was just asking what music you’ve been into lately.”

“Oh, like Sufjan Stevens.” I say immediately, surprising myself, “And I’m getting really into Alabama Shakes”

“You know Alabama Shakes?” He says, impressed, not knowing that I only said that because Shane left his iPod on the coffee table a few days before and when I scrolled through, theirs was one of the names that stuck in my memory.

“Yes.” I say. “The sound is super unique. I’m drawn to the lyrics, actually I think I’ll try to get tickets to the next gig if they ever come to Dublin.” I sit back and take another drink, watching his face and wondering when on earth I became someone who could bullshit. I’m sure that someone who knew all about the who’s who of music would be able to see right through me, but Stephen doesn’t. He tells me that I seem like a pretty cool girl, and I smile, wishing it was true.

He tells me that he’s in second year, studying social sciences in some small technology institute outside of town, and then we spend some time discussing that, and him, and where he lives and where he comes from, all things that kind of shape him into a person, rather than some hipster who buys me drinks. Stephen is nice, I decide, in an everyman kind of way. Nothing to get excited about, but there’s nothing especially off-putting about him, save his skinny jeans that are just a tiny bit too skinny. We share three drinks together, and then he asks me if i’ll go out to the smoking area, because he needs a cigarette.

I’m usually not someone who smokes very much, and even when I do I try to limit it to just one, because I hate just about everything about it except for the social element of continuing the conversation outside with everyone else who’s smoking too. I never understood the appeal of the actual cigarettes though. Especially in a day and age where we know everything there is to know about the harm they do, the myriad of painful, excruciating ways that they’re killing us. Even now, after its ban indoors, the hikes in prices and the horrible, gruesome images on the sides of the packets, it feels like every single college student in this city has a cigarette between their lips as a fashion accessory. I’ve seen people put stickers over the warning labels, and even listened to them have in depth discussions about their favourite ones, Marnie was saying recently that hers is the picture of the man with the hole in his neck.

I try very hard not to think about the man with the hole in his neck when Stephen is handing me my second cigarette of the night. He’s not smoking what Jen was smoking, and it’s much stronger and much more unpleasant, so much so that I have to stifle a wince while he tells me a story about the time he went to New York on a J1 visa.

When I stand next to him and look up into his face, I think again about how alright he is. He’s friendly, he’s tall, his outfit is mostly nice, and now that I’ve had three strong cocktails and all of those awful, anxious feelings I had earlier have floated away with the breeze, I start thinking that maybe I could try out some light flirtation on him.

“Have you got a girlfriend?” Is what comes spilling out of me though, and I wish I could stuff it right back into me. It must be the least graceful or subtle attempt at flirting there ever was. My face immediately burns up.

“Um. No.” He says with bewilderment. I realise I have cut him off mid sentence. “Why?”

“Oh, nothing. Just wondering.” I’m so embarrassed of myself that I can’t meet his eyes anymore.

“Ehm. Well, do you have a boyfriend?”

“Oh, absolutely not.” I laugh too loudly and then cover up my mouth.

When my eyes drift back to him, he’s giving me an amused smile. “Is it funny? Like, the idea of you having a boyfriend or something?”

“Maybe.” I say. “Kind of. Yes.”

“Why’s that?”

“Oh, like, I dunno I just don’t really have boyfriends.”

“You’re exploring your options.” He says with a conclusive nod, even though that’s not at all what it is. In fact, I’ve been doing whatever exactly the opposite of exploring my options is; Avoiding all romantic prospects. Wallowing in my room. Fleeing in terror from any and all single men who might want my phone number.

“That’s what college is for anyway.” He goes on. “Like, just seeing who’s available and having fun.” He gives me a suggestive little smile that makes my stomach coil nervously even through my tipsy haze, because he seems to think I’m the queen of sex now.

“Yeah completely.” Is all I manage.

“You have lovely eyes.” He says. “They’re a real emerald kind of colour.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, let me have a closer look at them.” He leans down until we’re eyeball to eyeball and he gazes right at me. I can see my own silhouette reflected in his glasses, and think that I look kind of messy, and not in a purposeful, Alexa Chung kind of way at all. More in a three-cocktails, two cigarettes and a resurfacing of a past trauma kind of way. I smooth down my hair with sweaty palms.

“You’re extremely pretty.” He tells me.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He surges suddenly towards me and pecks me on the lips. It startles me and I jolt backwards.

“Sorry.” He says with wide panicked eyes.

“It’s okay.”

“Maybe I was misreading the signals.”

“No it’s fine, I don’t mind.”

“I don’t want to be one of those weird men.”

“You’re not.” I feel tetchy for some reason. “You can just… you can do it if you want. You can kiss me, I don’t care.”

“That’s romantic.” He says, dripping with sarcasm.

“Sorry, I just don’t know how to be.”

“It’s fine, we can um… we can just chill out if you want.”

I don’t know why he’s insisting on prolonging the awkwardness when it’s clear to me that neither of us is going to leave the smoking area until we kiss.

“Kiss me, please.” I say flatly, and his mouth does that porny quirk again. “You’re a woman who knows what she wants.” He says in a voice that makes my hands clench, just as he comes at me and puts his mouth over mine.

It’s a strange sensation, kissing another person after so much time, and I’ve completely forgotten what it felt like to do it. It’s more real than I remember it being, I’m more aware than I used to be of the way his tongue feels and the sounds our mouths are making. It’s a little bit visceral, but not totally unpleasant. Despite the strong taste of cigarettes on his breath, Stephen’s kissing is fine, there’s nothing wrong with it, but still, it makes me feel almost nothing inside. I hold onto the front of his jumper anyway and I kiss him back, because it feels like he’s helping me to sever the very last connection I have with Jude. He no longer gets to be the last boy who kissed me. Now it’s Stephen. Just plain old Stephen, the social studies student whose surname I don’t even know, and it’s like all in that moment I’m freed.

“You’re pretty.” He tells me again, gently as he pulls away from me. “Has anyone ever told you that before?”

“I dunno.” I say vaguely. Men are obsessed with being the very first ones to tell women that they’re attractive, like it’s some gift that they are privileged to bestow upon us. We’re floundering, lost in the world, completely blind to ourselves until some man comes along and lets us know what he thinks about us. I can’t agree with him, say that I know, or I’ve heard it all before, because then he’ll think I’m up myself. It always feels like a trap. And besides, he’s not really saying it because he believes it, it’s just a device to get into my knickers.

“What are you up to later on?” He wants to know.

“I suppose I’ll just go home.” I say, my heart jumping a little in my chest.

“Where’s home?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” I say, and he grins at me like he thinks I’m just being coy. “I would.” Maybe he really isn’t that bad looking at all.

“If I tell you where I live then you might show up at my front door.”

“I might, who knows. And would you invite me in?”

I laugh awkwardly, feeling the vibe shifting rapidly into a realm I’m not comfortable with. “Probably not, no.”

“Ah, you art school girls, sure you’re always playing hard to get.”

“I like to stay mysterious.” I step away from him and make moves towards the door. “I’m pretty cold.” I tell him. “Maybe we can go back inside?”

“Yeah, okay.” He stubs out the butt of the cigarette that he was holding onto the whole time, and we head through the doors. I’m just thinking about how maybe he’s not so bad, and maybe if we spent some time together I could get to like him, when the hot air from the bar hits his glasses and they immediately fog up, and the effect on me is so immediate that I almost have to flinch away from him. The sight of him with fogged up specs is so dorky that I’m instantly repulsed. I watch in horror as he takes them off and wipes them on his jumper. There’s nothing at all attractive about him. What was I thinking?

“Well, it was nice to meet you,” I say robotically. “But I actually have to leave now.”

“Oh, right now?”

“Yeah. I didn’t realise how late it was, my housemate wanted me to come back and help her with something.” I start walking away immediately, the thought of his kissing me causing a shudder through my entire being.

“Wait, uh, can I have your phone number?”

“Um. I don’t know.”

“Really?”

“I don’t really give it out to people.”

His face falls. “Oh.”

“I’m just really not in the place for… this right now. It’s not personal.”

“It’s okay. I get it.” He doesn’t get it. He looks downtrodden, and I feel horrible, but I can’t stand there looking at him anymore, so I turn towards the cloakroom and try to collect my things.

“Hang on.” He calls after me. “Will I ever see you again?”

Does he think we’re in a romcom? That I’m the Meg Ryan to his Billy Crystal? I have to try really hard not to roll my eyes in front of him as I pass my token over to the cloakroom attendant, my breath shuddering. “No.” I say over my shoulder. “You probably won’t, sorry.” I don’t add the bit about how I was just using him to get over the memory of another person, because that’d make me the bad guy here.

“Damn. Okay Ellie. Nice to meet you.”

“Right. See you.”

I pull my coat on and walk right out the door into the freezing cold night.

Prev // Next

#sims #sims 4 #ts4 #simlit #sims 4 story #sims story #fiction #writing #romance #sims 4 storytelling #sims4 storytelling #sims storytelling #lucky girl part 2

24 notes · View notes

soulofapatrick · 1 year

Text

Birthday Wishes - Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Tommy decides to throw a celebration for Joel’s first birthday in Jackson

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: none

Y/N’s POV

The Tipsy Bison is as crowded as ever when I step inside, bustling with people of all ages and walks of life who have found refuge in Jackson. Exuding warmth and familiarity with the rustic wooden interior adorned with strings of fairy lights that cast cozy glows across the room. The air is filled with the aroma of beer and the savoury scent of hearty meals being prepared by the volunteers.

Amidst the lively atmosphere, the sounds of laughter and animated conversations blend harmoniously with the occasional clinking of glasses. Groups of friends huddle together, sharing tales of their jobs of the days, some never having the same each time the sun rises. Families gather around large tables, their eyes reflecting both weariness and determination, finding solace in the company of their loved ones and the fact that they’re safe in the walls of Jackson.

I’m not one to frequent the Tipsy Bison but I promised the Miller brothers I’d be there tonight as it’s Joel’s birthday and he hates celebrating it but it’s his first birthday in Jackson. Tommy wants it to be special and I promised so here I am, eyes scanning for Joel. I catch a glimpse of Tommy first, his broad shoulders and easy smile instantly recognisable. He’s engaged in a conversation with Jesse and Ellie. However, Joel is nowhere to be seen, Tommy nodding towards the bar when he notices me.

Feeling a mixture of anticipation and curiosity, I navigate through the crowd, eyes constantly searching for the older Miller brother. Finding him isn’t usually easy as he knows how to blend into the background and keep a low profile but it doesn’t take long to find him today from the overly feminine and sultry voice carrying across the bar. There. Sitting at the bar, trying to enjoy his beer is Joel, a blonde hanging off his muscular arms. She giggling and batting her eyelashes at him while his honey eyes are solely focused on his beer, swirling the liquid in the glass like it’s the most interesting thing ever.

I’m not going to deny the pang of jealousy stirring within me as Joel has always been handsome with me, it’s just he’s never seen it in himself. His chiselled features partially hidden by the dim lighting as I take a breath before heading over to the two with steady and confident steps despite how nervous I really am. I’m no good at confrontation but the forlornness look about his appearance and posture has me wanting to do something.

Joel’s glancing up when I touch his shoulder lightly and I swear those honey orbs brighten at the sight of me, the smile playing at the corner of my lips fills me with confidence, “Heya Joel,” I’m greeting him, ignoring the woman, I think her name is Grace. She’s fixing me with a look that would have me six feet under if looks could kill but I keep my attention on Joel who has straightened up and is waving the bartender over, gesturing at another beer for me. It seems to make Grace fume as suddenly she’s standing between me and Joel, shoving me back a few paces.

“Hands off skank, I was here first,” She sneers, her grip on Joel tightening, “It’s not like an orphan like you could really change him-“

I want to turn and leave, feeling a few eyes on me and I can see Tommy making his way over from behind Grace’s shoulder but I stand firm at the way Joel’s face falls again “Change him? He doesn’t need changing, he’s perfect the way he is.” Joel’s head flies up at my words, mouth dropped open a little in surprise and Grace is furrowing her brows and gripping onto Joel even more, “He’s strong, protective and fiercely loyal. He has depth that many can’t comprehend and you, you just want a new boy-toy.”

My words hang in the air, a testament to the unwavering belief I have in Joel. The room now mostly focused on us, holding its breath for what seems like hours as Joel’s honey coloured eyes lock with mine, surprise still evident on his face. I stand my ground still, feeling Jesse and Ellie not too far behind me in support, refusing to back down to Grace’s hostility.

Joel’s finally moving, reaching out and gently pushing Grace away as he rises from his seat, voice calm but firm, “That’s enough, Grace.” He doesn’t see the way her eyes widen in disbelief and hurt when he shakes her off of him; he doesn’t hear her whining protests as he closes the gap between me and him with two long strides and he doesn’t hear her begin crying when one of his calloused hands reaches up to cup my cheek.

“Hey.” I manage to choke out, voice trembling with a mixture of surprise and uncertainty, unsure what’s happening. My breath catching in my throat at the feel of his touch, both tender and grounding, his eyes searching mine with a myriad of emotions swirling in them. There’s surprise, gratitude, guilt, pain and perhaps something more, but it’s hard to decipher with the knowledge that half the town of Jackson are currently watching this interaction in near silence as Joel Miller is currently showing emotion. Joel Miller, the ‘violent thug, a brutal killer, and a torturer’ is currently showing emotions of want and what I think is love but I’m not really sure as my heart is trying to beat out of my chest and it’s so loud I can barely hear anything else.

He doesn’t speak, those dark eyes flickering down my suddenly dry lips and back up to meet my gaze. I’m darting my tongue to wet them in anticipation and it seems to snap any control Joel has left. His gaze lingering on my lips, his own mouth slightly parted as he takes in the sight, and without breaking eye contact, Joel leans in, his movements slow and deliberate. The air crackling with tension, the anticipation building between us like an electric current. My heart pounding in my chest and I’m letting my eyes flutter shut, somewhere subconscious highly aware of how cliche this all it.

As Joel’s lips brush against mine, a surge of warmth courses through my veins. It’s a gentle and tentative kiss, filled with a mix of longing and vulnerability. Our connection deepens with each passing second, the world around us slipping away as if we’re the only two people in existence. I can taste the years of pain, loss and survival etches into Joel’s lips. The touch of his mouth against mine is a testament to the barriers he’s built slipping away and opening up the vulnerability he’s kept hidden. It’s a silent plea for understanding and acceptance and has my arms instinctively wrapping around him, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.

We eventually have to break apart, breath mingling, Joel resting his forehead against mine. I can’t handle the silence and find myself blurting out, “Happy Birthday Joel.” Which draws a deep and husky laugh, filled with raw emotion, from him before he’s yanking me into a hug that has me melting into his embrace. The strength and warmth of his embrace wraps around me, offering a sense of security and belonging that I think we’ve both yearned for in this harsh world. In his arms, the weight of the outside world fades away, replaced by a simple moment of connection and celebration.

“Right! Who wants cake?” Tommy’s booming voice breaks the silence and suddenly the Tipsy Bison is full of sound and laughter and joy but all I care about is the feeling of Joel against me. His strong and broad chest pressed against mine and the feel of his beard scratching at my forehead a little, the smell of his musky cologne mixed with something citrusy.

“Come on baby doll, I think Tommy is wanting me to blow out my candles.” Joel gently unwinds himself from me but he doesn’t let go completely, slipping his calloused hand into mine to tug me with him. Tommy standing near a table adorned with a giant birthday cake, his infectious grin welcoming us as we approach. The room seeming to hush once more, until Ellie begins belting out Happy Birthday and everyone starts to join in.

Joel’s face flushes redder than I think I’ve ever seen it as he stands there, the soft glow of the candlelight dancing across his face, casting a warm and gentle radiance. His eyes meeting mine with a mixture of gratitude and affection evident in their depths and I can’t help but return the sentiment, my heart swelling with love for this man, barely whispering out a “make a wish”.

With a deep breath, Joel leans forwards and blows out the candles, the room erupting in applause and cheers before the festivities continue, Tommy and Maria helping serve everyone a slice of cake as Joel makes a beeline for me again.

“What did you wish for?”

“Nothing,” He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me into his side, lips pressing to the side of my temple before he’s murmuring even quieter, “I have everything I’ve ever wanted right here.”

-----------

The Last of Us Masterlist

TAGS: Tag List Form

@clover723 @sexyvixen7 @iraot @gemimawrites @twopercentmilk @amythenortherner @urnewghostfriend @grooveandshit @canpillowscry @ginger-swag-rapunzel @quinnverses @librafilms @notsosecretspy @certifiedhunter @yourmommilf @mediocrewallflow3r @fariylixie0915 @randomhoex @secretsthathauntus @ems-alexandra @quinnsgrapejuice @marvelsimps @cutesyscreenname @misspascaliverse @pedritosdarling @letsgroovetonighttt @forthetears @casual-obsessions @phoenixxtay @katmoonz @scoliobean @evyiione @pedr0swh0r3 @casa-boiardi @carlgrimeskisser @mydailyhyperfixations @malewife-cas @paleidiot

49 notes · View notes

beccalendsahand · 1 year

Text

ZuCasino, Yuzuka Rei: October 2022

Long time no translations! It's been a busy year but I finally found the time to finish an interview that I really really love, I hope you are able to understand more about Rei with this sweet Q&A! ZuCasino is a current segment in Takarazuka Graph magazine where prominent otokoyaku get interviewed via a series of casino-style games and questions. October was with Yuzuka Rei. I've tried something a little different this time around where the first time an actress's name is mentioned I link her takawiki page. I've also done translation notes as I go rather than putting them all at the end. Let me know if you find this helpful or just too much. Without further ado, enjoy!

Part 1: Episode Roulette

We challenged Yuzuka Rei to play our Episode Roulette game!

(Rei has been given a roulette wheel, each section has a topic of conversation, whichever she lands on she has to answer)

A Joke That Went Wrong

Episode 1：

Alright so, this is something that happened to me today. Earlier today I went to the quick-change-station* backstage to pick up some hair products for our photo shoot. But then suddenly, our flower troupe musumeyaku from the 100th class* (Oto Kurisu, Hoshikaze Madoka and Itotsuki Yukiha) popped out of nowhere wearing Japanese biker gang outfits!!! I think they had mistaken my footsteps for those of another classmate because they jumped out in sync pulling the same funny faces as if they had known I was coming! It was so hilarious I couldn’t stop myself from laughing at them! (laughs)

*The "quick-change-station" is an area in the wings at the Takarazuka theatres where the actresses can change between scenes, it has dressing tables and any costumes/props needed for quick changes but it's not part of the actual dressing rooms. *100th class refers to the 100th class of actresses who graduated from the Takarazuka Music School, Takarazuka is based on hierarchy, not just hierarchy within the star system but also hierarchy based on years in the company, so what class people were in at TMS is quite significant, and actresses have a strong bond with those in their troupe who they were at TMS with. When Rei refers to “another classmate” she means another girl from the 100th class. Later on in this interview, Rei will refer to one of her own “classmates”, Rei’s class was the 95th class.

Something you've been thinking about

Episode 2:

My baby nephew has been on my mind a lot! I often get sent videos of him, he’s over a year old now and has started walking and saying things that sound like words, I can’t get over how fast he’s growing. There’s quite a lot of us in the flower troupe who have nieces and nephews around the same age, so I like to know how they are doing too. Even though I haven’t met them in person, because me and the other flower troupe members are always sharing videos with each other, I feel like I’m watching over them. You know how when you were little you would get those adults who would come up to you and say “Ahh look how big you’ve grown!”? Well, I’m pretty sure I’m becoming that person!

A Special (insert here)

Episode3:

When I’m performing, I like to try and use my eyes like a camera and take pictures of everyone's faces to save to my memory. Those of the flower troupe and those of the audience. There are lots of times when I see someone's lovely sparkling smiling face and I think “Ahhh I wish I could share this with someone”. So, I want to create my own “Special SSS Seat View!”* Like, you know how when you go to theme parks you can buy photos of yourselves on the rides? It could be like that, after seeing a show you could go to Quatre Reves* and get the photos straight from my brain.

*In Japanese theatres, seats are divided by B, A, S, and sometimes SS seats too. In the Takarazuka theatres the SS seats are the middle block of the first floor at the front, so what Rei means here is that what she sees standing on stage is an even closer view than that, therefore her view would be called SSS. *Quatre Reves is the Takarazuka merchandise store, you can find them at the theatre as well as in major cities across Japan and online!

Praise someone!

Episode 4

I want to praise everyone on this earth! I think none of us expected this fight (covid) to go on for so long, but even without an end in sight, we have all carried on, one day at a time. There are probably people out there who feel a loss in confidence, and aren’t able to fight on…So I feel like we and the audience are like “comrades” living through this era of great change together.

There is a lot of pain right now but the fact that everyone keeps going and doing there best is amazing!

Part 2: Card Game

(Rei has been given 2 decks of cards with words written on the back, deck 1 has an adjective, deck 2 has a type of person. She must take one from each deck, name a person that relates and give us an anecdote about them.)

Deck 1: Cute, Passionate, Must-See, Respected, Bizarre

Deck 2: Upperclassmen, Underclassman, Teacher, Classmate, Flower Troupe Member

Passionate Underclassman*

The “Fashionable Empire” Rockettes

When I was watching the rehearsals for the Rockette number I found myself thinking “wow they really are the picture of youth!”. They are all just so energetic and have a high awareness of the space and each other, you can tell they are thinking about how to make the dance the most effective, they are such promising underclassmen. It was a Rockette dance delivered with so much confidence!

*Underclassmen generally refer to actresses who have been in the company 7 years or less.

(Fashionable Empire, 2022) Cute Classmate

Kizuki Yuuma

We were reunited for the first time in forever in the musical “Top Hat”, it was funny though because she’s a senka member now, so everyone was treating her incredibly politely which she seemed quite humbled by (laughs). On stage, she had an immense stage presence in her dandy-style costume, and her character had a high tolerance for people's behavior, but in the wings and in the rehearsal rooms she would bow more than anyone else! I found it very cute how she would suddenly get smaller and smaller and smaller*. Her embarrassment was in huge contrast to how much she helped us throughout the show, in the way she would speak to the underclassmen and the wonderful insight she gave us into her thoughts on the performing arts. It was just so adorable to me, I remember thinking “You don’t have to make yourself so small!!” (laughs).

*In Japanese culture it's common to lower yourself when speaking in order to show respect for someone higher in age or status than you. So what Rei means here by Kizuki getting smaller and smaller is that she was probably bowing her head and bowing with her whole body so often to everyone that she was getting smaller and smaller, which is quite a funny image when you consider how she usually towers above every other actress. Kizuki recently transferred from the Moon Troupe to Senka (a troupe made up of superior members who guest star in different troupes) so there's no need for her to be lowering herself when she is actually higher ranked than everyone else, but she's not quite used to all the politeness and respectful language the actresses are giving to her yet, so she still feels a little embarrassed and finds herself doing it back to them.

(Top Hat, 2022) (from left to right: Minami Maito, Kizuki Yuuma, Yuzuka Rei) Must-See Flower Troupe Member

Mikaze Maira

She's been Kumicho (Troupe Leader) * for half a year now and she looks after us all by giving us positive encouragement and strengthening the troupe morale. I think she makes it easy for us to all unite and move towards the same goal together by guiding us, not only in the arts but in our emotions as well. Please pay attention to our Kumicho who is full of charm and positivity! *The Kumicho (Troupe Leader) is the oldest member of the troupe, it is her duty to support the troupe and basically make sure everyone is okay, she is usually the first port of call when an actress is struggling with things like stage fright or other worries. Mikaze transferred to Flower Troupe from the Cosmos Troupe with current Flower Troupe Top Musumeyaku Hoshikaze Madoka in 2021, and took over from Takashou Mizuki as Kumicho in 2022

(The Fascination, 2022)

Part 3: Dice Game

(Rei has been given a white dice and a black dice, similar to the last game, whatever number she lands on has an assigned word, white dice adjectives, black dice nouns, the difference this time is whatever she gets she has to perform!)

White dice: 1. Cool 2. Sexy 3. Powerful 4. Flirty 5. Sweet 6. Dynamic

Black dice: 1. Face 2. Flying kiss 3. Wink 4. Pose 5. Back pose 6. Kabe-don

Part 4: Big wins at the Zucasino Question Corner

1. If you are already doing well would you place another bet? I think I usually stop myself when I start thinking about going all in on something. So rather than taking another big bet, I’m the type of person who quits while they are ahead.

2. Are you daring? Or cautious? Tenma Michiru once surprised me by saying “I used to think you were a cautious person, but actually you don’t care at all!”, her idea of the difference between daring and cautious people sounded quite black and white to me. It’s true though that I do just go for it when making decisions. For example, after deciding to move house I moved the next week, and the time between me discovering Takarazuka and enrolling at the Music School was very short. Timing and chance of course had a lot to do with it, but I do think that when it comes down to those life-changing decisions I get this feeling of intuition to just go with my gut, maybe that's when I become daring.

3. How do you spend big money? For the last 3 years, we haven’t been able to do any trips or go out for any meals together as a troupe, so I’d like to hold a big event where the current troupe members and those who have left the troupe from 2020 onwards all go on a gorgeous trip to Hawaii together! There are so many places I want to go explore so maybe it could be a 3-4 day long trip where we can do our own thing, and then we could plan some kind of special event to do all together during our stay! The girls who have only been in Takarazuka for 1 to 3 years and those who have joined the flower troupe from other troupes like Hitoko-chan (Towaki Sea) have not experienced our dinner entertainment tradition yet, and many of the upperclassmen are itching to perform again so, I think we should put on a banquet and have a good time! Other things I’d like to spend big money on would be buying a holiday home for my parents and maybe starting my own business. Maybe something to do with children's education, something that mothers would appreciate….But I need to know how to spend money wisely first, time to study up!

4. Are you lucky? Or unlucky? I think I’m a lucky person, I’m very happy! Every now and again there are moments where I look at my life and think how happy I am that I am able to make art with the people I love. I may not be lucky enough to win in raffles or lotteries (laughs), but I’m overwhelmingly blessed to live a life surrounded by the many things that I love.

5. What is the luckiest moment you’ve experienced in your life? Entering Takarazuka was a big moment for me, both a lucky and a happy moment (laughs). Not only did I get to be a part of something I love but I met so many lovely people and learnt all sorts of things! Takarazuka has taught me so much, not just about the performing arts, but about being a person as well, I think if I hadn’t joined Takarazuka I would be completely different to who I am today.

6. A moment you’ve betted on In the early stages of joining the Takarazuka Music School you have to make the decision of whether to become an otokoyaku or a musumeyaku. But at the time I was still getting used to it all, I was kind of drowning, overwhelmed by everything, and so I completely forgot that I needed to decide…And before I knew it, we were all lined up about to make our decision! Everyone in turn saying “musumeyaku!” or “otokoyaku!” down the line! My height at the time meant that I was on the threshold between musumeyaku and otokoyaku, and so I was worrying and worrying like “Ahh which do I choose?!”. But then I heard the person before me say “Otokoyaku!” and in a spur of the moment decision I went “Yeah!” and said I wanted to be an otokoyaku. I guess you could say that was a bet? I wonder what would have happened if I had chosen to be a musumeyaku instead. I would have had to use completely different muscles, so my shoulders probably wouldn’t have broadened like they have now…Choosing to be an otokoyaku was a big turning point in my life.

7. A moment that was a close shave! The time when I was still a junior in the company and decided to climb Mt.Rokko by myself on my day off. It was a nice day despite it being winter, and so after enjoying the mountain to my heart's content I strolled back to the bus stop, only to discover the buses had already finished for the day! Looking around frantically I realised there was not a single soul to be seen, I was all alone, it was getting cold and windy and the sun was starting to set… After standing around in the cold for about 20 minutes, just as I started to worry for my life, a cyclist came speeding down the road towards me. But he passed by so fast there was nothing I could do to get his attention, but then he came back and gave me a ride to the cable car! I was one step away from ending up being a news story. I hope that man is doing well…

8. Something you want to protect with all your life The number one thing i want to protect is everyone's smiles. Maybe it's unrealistic to ask for, but I don’t want anyone's smiles to be clouded by anything, not those of the troupe, not those of the audience, or anyone I meet. Everyone is working so hard every day, the people who look after the company so that we are able to perform, the people who come to the theatre, the doctors and nurses who continue to fight to save lives, everyone, so their smiles must be protected. We are forced to endure a lot which can make our hearts feel heavy, but it's for that very reason that I want to be able to capture the smiles of the audience with my “Yuzuka Camera Lense”! No matter your birth, upbringing, age, or gender, people from all walks of life come to the theatre, lose themselves in the story being told and laugh and cry together in that shared space. How amazing is that? I’m so grateful to get to have that experience and so I want to continue to protect it.

Part 5: My Treasure

Illustrations from manga artists I have been fortunate enough to get to be a part of several plays based on famous manga, and have been gifted original illustrations from their creators. Yamato Waki who made “Haikara-san: Here Comes Miss Modern”, Hagio Moto who made “The Poe Clan” and Kamio Yoko who made “Hana Yori Dango/Boys Over Flowers” . Even now whenever I look at the pictures they drew for me I have a deep feeling of amazement of just how great their work is.

My beloved dog, Noir He’s so intelligent that it’s like he’s a human trapped inside a dogs body and at any moment he’s going to start talking to me. He is in tune to so many things and keeps at juuuust the right distance from me, all traits that would make me want to marry him if I could, he’s so cute!

Letters I’ve received from flower troupe members There is a custom in Takarazuka where you give “Pre-Raku Cards”* to those who have looked after you during the performance. I’ve kept all the ones I have received so far. It just makes me so happy that in these letters the actresses get to share with me thoughts and feelings that they don’t normally get to say to me.

*Senshuuraku is japanese theatre speak for the final performance of a show, it is usually shortened to “Raku” by both fans and actors. “Pre-Raku Cards” or “Maeraku Cards” is a short hand for “Mae Senshuuraku cards” or “The night before closing night cards”. Celebratory messages from fans My album full of birthday cards, top star anniversary messages and other milestones is my number one most precious treasure. “No matter how far the distance may be, my heart will be your side…” This is a line from the song “An oath made on the wind” from “Haikara-san: Here Comes Miss Modern”. During the initial period of the pandemic, these words would often come to mind and they became a phrase which is now very close to my heart. The underclassmen who couldn’t perform the show quoted this line in a video they made during the theatre shutdown, it really cheered me up at that time.

Videos and photos from the flower troupe During the last performance cancellations, I was sent many videos of things like funny little updates, and people singing whilst playing the ukulele. Performance cancellations are so hard, but if we hadn’t of had them then these exchanges would never have happened..

Video title: “I will become the wind” Misora Maru Ukulele Version Picture: Flower Troupe Love Picture Caption: “Flower Troupe Love” Will never end!

Behind the Scenes!

Thank you for reading! For more Takarazuka translations click here

#takarazuka #takarazuka revue #yuzuka rei #translations #my translations #becca translates #theatre #japan #宝塚 #柚香光 #花組 #hanagumi #flower troupe

119 notes · View notes