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waitimcomingtoo · 8 days

Text

The Script

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Synopsis: you and Peter break up once you find out his secret and he falls apart

Masterlist

“We broke up.”

The words fell out of Peter’s mouth as he pulled his mask from his tear stained face. Ned turned around in his desk chair and pulled his earbuds out of his ears.

“What? No way.” He laughed dismissively at the assumed joke until he noticed the red rim around Peter’s eyes.

“It’s true. She broke up with me. She doesn’t want to be with me anymore.” Peter repeated through a childlike cry.

“But I thought you had a date tonight? Did something happen?”

10 minutes earlier

“Peter?”

Peter froze in the alleyway and stopped looking for his backpack. He turned around slowly and saw you standing there under a harsh street light with his backpack in your arms. The webs he had shot on it to keep it secured against the wall were still hanging off.

“It’s you? You’re the Spiderman?” You asked in a voice barely above a whisper. You were looking at him with a mixture of betrayal and confusion as you clutched his backpack like you were a child with a teddy bear. Peter still had his mask on so he stayed dead silent.

“Say something.” You seethed, a newfound anger in your voice and eyes. Peter gulped and nodded his head, knowing there was no point in lying.

“I am.” He said, making your face crumble when you heard his voice. You held the backpack tighter and stared at him as your face crumbled.

“What are you doing out here? Did you follow me?” Peter asked you.

“No. You never showed up to our date. I called you when I was walking home. Alone. I heard your phone ringing in this alley way. It was in your backpack. Here’s your stupid fucking backpack.” You said through clenched teeth and threw the backpack at him. He caught it with ease and dropped it to the floor.

“There have been Spiderman sightings on Youtube for years. Years. You never told me?” You asked and surveyed every inch of his suit as you saw it up close for the first time.

“Nobody knows.” He said quickly. “I mean, May knows. And Ned. And a handful of people I work with. But that’s it, I swear. I don’t expect you to understand this all right now but please believe that I have to keep my identity a secret for my safety. And your safety too.”

“You don’t expect me to understand?” You laughed and tilted your head to the side as if to ask if he was serious.

“I just mean that I know this is a lot to process right now.”

“It’s not a lot. You’re the Spiderman and you never thought that was something I should know. I had to find out on accident after getting stood up for the hundredth time. But, sure, I’m glad Ned knows.” You nodded and looked up so your tears wouldn’t fall.

“I would’ve have told you eventually. I just needed more time. If people knew who I was, everything would change. I wouldn’t be able to help people there way I do now. I couldn’t tell anyone.”

“Since when am I just “people”and “anyone” to you?” You shook your head. “How could you keep this from me for this long? We’ve been dating for over a year. And I’ve known you since middle school. How much time did you need?“

“I don’t know. It just never felt like the right moment to say it. I wanted to tell you so many times.”

“You just never did.” You shrugged. Peter recognized that the situation was quickly escalating and you were not reacting the way he always imagined you would.

“I don’t understand why you’re getting upset right now.” Peter said calmly. “I thought you’d be happy to understand why I have to miss so many dates and flake all the time.”

“You thought I’d be happy to learn that you’ve been lying to me for our entire relationship?” You laughed again as tears fell down your face.

“I wasn’t lying.” He defended. “I just couldn’t tell you the truth yet.”

“Yet. Right.” You smiled tightly. “We’re over a year in but haven’t gotten to the point where you can be honest with me. I see.”

“I am honest with you. This is the only thing I’ve ever lied to you about. I promise.” He said and tried to step closer to you. You immediately stepped back and hugged yourself.

“I thought you loved me.” You said as you stared at the ground.

“I do love you. How can you even question that?” He laughed in shock. You looked up at him and he saw that your anger had turned to sadness.

“Peter, you stood me up countless times. Tonight included. You let me cry myself to sleep for so many nights. All those times I walked home alone after already getting to the restaurant or watched movie by myself through tears because you couldn’t bother to show up. You knew I was feeling insecure lately about the distance between us but you still decided to say nothing to cue me in as to why it was happening. Do you know how painful it is to feel someone you love pulling away and have them tell you your suspicions are all unfounded? How long would you have let me feel that way if I hadn’t caught you tonight?”

“I…I don’t know. I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how this was affecting you.” Peter said quietly.

“Of course you didn’t.”

“Look, I know this is really upsetting now, but I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” Peter said and put his hands on his shoulders. You pushed him off of you and took a step back. Peter gulped and wondered how he was going to make it out of this conversation alive because he had never seen you reject him like this.

“You always say that. And you never do. I have a long list of things I’m still waiting for you to make up for. Why should I believe this time is different?” You asked him and folded your arms.

“It will be different. I promise. I’ll fix this. Stop walking away from me.” Peter pleaded and reached out to touch your face.

“It’ll be different. You promise. You say the same thing every time. And yet, I always end up crying over you. I shouldn’t have to cry over a relationship I’m still in.” You said as you pushed his hand away from you. An anxiety built in Peter’s stomach as he was used to you telling him it was fine every time he had disappointed you in the past. This time was clearly different and he didn’t know what to do. You turned and started to walk away from him so he quickly followed after.

“Where are you going?”

“Home, Peter.” You said without stopping.

“No. You can’t leave now. We have to talk about this. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say. You can take it all out on me. Just don’t go, please.” Peter begged as he stepped in front of you to stop you.

“I don’t want to cry anymore, Peter. I’m done. This is done.” You cried and pushed past him to keep walking. Peter froze when he heard you use that word and felt his blood run cold.

“What? Done? Done with what?”

“With you. With us. With all of it. I’m not doing this anymore. I’m breaking up with you.” You said as you turned around to look at him. Peter felt his stomach drop and could barely hear you over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.

“What? We can’t just break up. I love you.” He protested as he got that feeling in his nose that told him he was about to cry.

“That’s not good enough for me.” You shook your head.

“What?”

“You can say you love me as much as you want but until you prove that, I can’t be with you. I won’t be with you. I’m done.” You repeated and turned to walk away again. Peter quickly ran after you and dropped down to his knees in front of you.

“No, no. No. Please. Don’t leave me. Please. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, baby. Just give me one more chance.” He begged as he took both your hands. You looked down at him for a long time as you thought things he wished he could hear.

“Please.” He whispered, barely audible. You looked up again but it was no use to stop your tears from falling.

“Say something.” He pleaded and squeezed your hands.

“I’m saying goodbye.” You said after a beat of silence. Peter made the mistake of letting his hopes build up during that silence. He stayed on his knees as you pulled your hands out of his and walked away. His tears fell rapidly down his face and it wasn’t long before his heartache turned into misplaced anger. He got off his knees and turned in your direction.

“You’re not being fair.” He called down the street. You stopped in your tracks and turned around.

“Excuse me?”

“This isn’t fair. I didn’t ask to be bitten. I didn’t ask for this life and all this responsibility. But it happened to me and I’ll never know why but I do know that I have to do something about it. I wish I could be a normal guy my age and take my girlfriend on dates, but I can’t. I have a duty to this city to protect it. I hate that it’s true but sometimes, I have to chose helping someone in need over spending time with you. You’re acting like I went out of my way to neglect you on purpose.”

“I understand that you didn’t choose this, but you could have told me all of that from the start. Then maybe I would’ve been more sympathetic. But right now, all I can think about is every little lie you told me to keep me in the dark. Oh, I’m sick. Oh, I have homework. Oh, I have to help my boss with something. Tonight, you told me you weren’t gonna make it to our date because your aunt needed help with something. You didn’t even care enough to lie about what she needed help with. But, yet, at least I got a lie tonight. Sometimes you just don’t show up.”

“I had to lie, okay? Do you have any idea how much danger I’d be in if you let it slip who I really was?”

“So is it that you couldn’t tell anyone or you couldn’t trust me not to tell?” You asked as you walked back up to him.

“You know how you are. You tell your friends everything.” He said coldly.

“Are you seriously saying this is my fault?” You raised your eyebrows.

“I’m not saying it’s your fault.” He sighed. “I’m just saying that you’re being kind of selfish right now.“

“I’m being selfish?”

“Yes, you are. It’s selfish to expect me to prioritize you over the safety of-“

“Of who?” You cut him off. “Of literally all of New York? Of the world? Where does your domain of responsibility end? Who do you prioritize me over? Where do I rank? When do I matter to you?”

“That’s not fair.” Was all he could say because he didn’t know the answer to your questions.

“You know what else isn’t fair? Making me have to be the only bad guy here. Because the funny thing is that I would have been proud of you. I would have been honored to be the girlfriend of someone who risked their life and gave their time to protect people they didn’t even know. But you never gave me the opportunity to feel that way. You chose to lie to me. You chose this over me every single time. You never chose me. That’s why we’re breaking up. I would have understood if you needed to prioritize saving lives over dates with me but I cannot understand you lying to my face every single day for years. I spent birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, and countless nights staring at the empty seat I saved for you that you never showed up to. So no, I don’t think I’m being selfish right now. I don’t think it was selfish of me to share my boyfriend with all of New York.”

Peter was quiet again as he processed what you had said. There was no way to undo what he had done and it was clear apologizing wasn’t cutting it this time.

“I don’t know how to be without you. You’re my best friend. None of this matters without you.” Peter said in a small voice. You sighed and felt sympathetic towards him for just a moment.

“Peter, you were and always will be my first love. That’s always going to mean something to me. But now I have to look back at our relationship and never know what was real and what was a lie. If you’re not going to choose me, then I will. I’m done waiting around for you. I’m done.”

“Please, don’t give up on me. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He croaked out.

“But you did.”

“I know. I know I did. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. I’ll never stop trying to make things right.” He pleaded and tried to reach for you again.

“Don’t bother, Peter. You need to stay away from me for a while.” You told him in a calm voice.

“What? How long?” He blinked in disbelief.

“I don’t know. A long time.”

“But can we at least be friends? Like we were before?” He asked desperately.

“We can’t be friends.” You shook your head and turned to leave again.

“What? Not even friends?” His voice cracked as he called after you.

“I can’t be your friend. I can’t be in any kind of relationship with you. That’s what I’m trying to say here. I don’t trust you.”

“Ever?” He squeaked out. “We can’t ever find our back to each other?”

You didn’t answer him as you walked home alone. Peter stood on the sidewalk for a long time, unsure of what to do with himself now. He wanted to run after you and get you to see his side, but he knew that would just make things worse. You had said what you needed to say and he had to respect that as much as it pained him to see you walk away. Instead of going after you, he swung to Ned’s house and climbed through his window.

“We broke up.” The words fell out of Peter’s mouth as he pulled his mask from his tear stained face.

Peter let a month pass before he tried to speak to you again. Minus a few texts and voicemails left on particularly miserable nights, he had left you alone for the most part. But after counting down the 31 painfully long and quiet days without you, he went up to you in the hallway on campus one day.

“Hey.” He greeted you with an anxious smile. You stopped walking and looked behind you to make sure you were the one he was talking to.

“Hi.” You said with knit eyebrows of confusion.

“How are you? How have you been?”

“I’m fine.” You said flatly.

“Did you just come from class? Was it okay?”

“Um, I really don’t want to be mean here but why are you talking to me?” You asked him. Peter blinked in surprise at your response and lost all the confidence he had built up.

“Oh, um. I don’t know. We haven’t talked into a month. I was giving you space.”

“Why’d you stop?”

“Stop what?”

“Giving me space.” You replied. “I still don’t want to talk to you.”

“But it’s been a month.” He pointed out and realized how silly he sounded as it came out of his mouth.

“Okay? We ended a year long relationship and years of friendship. We can’t just go back to normal after that.”

“But…but we’re different.” He stammered. “We were different. I thought, I don’t know, maybe…”

“Maybe what? I’ll just forget about the shit you put me through?” You asked when he trailed off. He shut his mouth and went quiet and you couldn’t help but feel bad at the deer in headlights look he had in his eyes.

“Peter, I told you.” You sighed. “We can’t be friends.”

“I know we can’t go right back to how we were but we don’t have to pretend the other doesn’t even exist.” He insisted.

“No, Peter, you’re not understanding. I won’t be your friend. I won’t even fake niceties with you. I’m not trying to be mean but I don’t want you in my life in any capacity. I’m not changing my mind on this.”

“We can’t just never speak again. Our story can’t end like this.” He said quietly and you could tell he was on the verge of tearing up.

“It wasn’t supposed to. But it is. So please, just leave me alone.” You asked calmly so that he wouldn’t break down.

“I can’t. This is killing me. You and I not being together doesn’t make sense to me. Please. I’ll do anything to make this right. I still love you and-“

“Peter. Please. We’re at school.” You cut him off and uncomfortably looked around for who was listening.

“You’re telling me you don’t feel anything for me anymore? Because I don’t believe that. I know you. I know you can’t shake things that easily.”

“I didn’t think so either. But I’ve never been hurt like this.”

“Then can we please go somewhere and talk? I’ll listen this time. I swear.” Peter pleaded and stepped forward to touch your arm. You stared at him for a minute and looked sympathetic so he thought you might say yes.

“I can’t.” You said finally. “I have class. I have to go.”

“Oh, okay.” He nodded in disappointment. “Maybe some other time then. Just please know how sorry I am for hurting you.”

“You don’t need to keep apologizing, Peter.” You sighed. “I’ve moved on. I think you should too.”

“You’ve moved on? Like, with another guy?” Peter blinked a few times to stop the tears he felt threatening to spill out at this new bit of information.

“Not that it would be any of your business if I did, but no.” You amswered. “I just mean that I’d been mourning our relationship before it even ended so I accepted our breakup a long time ago. I’ve moved on now.”

“Were you really that unhappy?” Peter asked in a small voice.

“Well, yeah, Peter.” You admitted. “I loved you when you were around but it felt awful the nights you were gone. I felt completely alone a lot of the time. And even when you were with me, I was never sure you wanted to be there.”

“I always wanted to be with you.” He promised. “If you ever believe something I say again, just know how badly I wished I could have been there with you.”

You chewed your bottom lip and stared into his eyes as you tried to decide if you should believe him or not. You swore never to believe another word out of his mouth but his tired eyes seemed so genuine that you knew there must be truth to his words. But even if he was telling the truth, that didn’t matter to you anymore.

“I can’t talk about this right now. I have class.”You repeated. “Get some sleep tonight, okay? You don’t look so good.”

Another month went by and Peter was starting to feel used to not speaking to you. The thought of it beginning to feel normal to not have you in his life scared him so he called you up one night and listened to your voicemail with tears in his eyes. By month three, he pretty much just felt numb. He was falling to pieces very quickly and you were the only one who could save him. He’d seen you around on campus and sometimes get a pity wave if he stared too long. Every so often, he’d follow you home but keep his distance on rooftops. He swore you knew he was there as sometimes you’d stop and look up. He made no effort to hide but you made no effort to seek him out.

Peter was on his nightly patrol one night when his police radio started going crazy. He heard the words “bus crash” and “pile up” being reported over and over so he picked up his radio to listen for where it was. Once he had a location, he swung to the bridge and landed in the middle of the scene. Peter saw one of the large city buses on its side and twenty some cars piled up behind it. Police officers were already on the scene and helping people but Peters senses were telling him danger was still present.

“How can I help?” Peter asked an officer.

“Usually I don’t like seeing you at crime scenes but you might be able to help us. A bus is about to over the side of the bridge and our extraction guys are having a hard time getting onto the bridge with all the traffic.”

“Which bus?” Peter asked and looked around.

“It’s over there. Bus Q8.” The officer pointed out. There was a bus hanging over the side of the bridge with its nose pointed towards the water. Peter could see people inside trying to stay calm so they didn’t shake the bus.

“Q8? My girlfriend takes that bus.” Peter’s mouth went dry as his head shot back to the bus teetering over the edge of the bridge.

“Then you better hurry.” The officer called after Peter. The bus was on its side so Peter opened up the emergency hatch on the top and climbed inside. He calmed down the people on the bus one by one and assured them that he was there to get them to safety. As he spoke to the passengers, he kept an eye out for you but didn’t see you in any of the seats. You normally took the bus home at this time and Peter found it hard to believe this was the one day you didn’t.

“Was there a girl on this bus with a purple backpack? She was wearing brown converse and a jean jacket today. Did any see her?” He asked the passengers.

“Yeah. She was sitting over there.” Someone answered and pointed to the back of the bus. Peter went to your seat but only found your backpack.

“This is her backpack. Where is she?” He asked and felt his fear rise quickly. He looked around and saw that the back door of the bus was opened. He pushed the door open a little more and the bus wobbled at his movement.

“Did she leave?” Peter asked with his panic evident in his voice.

“She was helping a few people get out of the back until this little boy ran out. She told the mom she’d go find him. I haven’t seen her since.” Someone else informed him.

“Okay. Thank you. I’m gonna get you guys to safety.” Peter promised. He helped people out of the back of the bus one by one after securing the bus to the bridge with his webs. Once he was sure everyone was out safely, he began to search for you. He had an anxiety like nothing he had ever felt as he searched through the crowds for your face. As he looked around the scene, he heard a woman talking to a police officer about a girl falling over into the water. Peter felt his hair stand up and approached them.

“Excuse me? Was the girl who fell into the water wearing brown converse?” He asked and hoped the answer was no.

“I think so.” The woman replied but couldn’t be sure.

“Can you tell me what happened?” He asked.

“This girl helped me get my son after he ran off the bus. He had climbed into an empty car nearby to hide so she climbed in to get him. But the car fell into the water before she could get out herself.” The woman replied as she clutched her son to her chest.

“Did…did the car go under?” Peter asked with a dry mouth. The woman looked pained at his question and he already knew her answer.

“When I looked over the side, I saw it sink under the water. I’m so sorry. There was nothing I could do. Did you know her?” The woman asked and placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. The police officer started asking Peter questions but he couldn’t hear anything. He felt like he was about to pass out and stumbled backwards. He took off running towards the side of the bridge and looked over into the water. The rocky river water looked especially treacherous that night, sending a sick feeling to Peter’s stomach. He wasted no time and dove into the water in search of you. He swam down and eventually found a car in the water but when he pulled the doors open, there was no sign of you. Peter quickly swam up to gasp for air before going back down to look again. He did this five times before he exhausted himself. He dragged himself onto the little patch of grass at the base of the bridge and laid on the ground. He pulled his mask off and let out a guttural sob as he covered his face with his hands. He knew he had to pull himself up and help the people on the bridge but his entire body felt like lead. He rubbed the saltwater out of his eyes and took another minute to recover. As he rolled over to get himself up, he made eye contact with you.

“Peter?” You asked in a shaky voice. You were wet from the river and holding yourself as you slowly walked toward him.

“You’re okay?” Peter asked as he got up off the ground. You were shivering from the cold and he wished desperately that he had something he could cover you with.

“Yeah. I managed to get out through the trunk of the car. I was on the other side of the platform when I heard you crying. Did you go looking for me?” You asked when you realized he was wet too. Peter was still in stunned silence at the sight of you okay after accepting that you had likely drowned.

“You’re okay.” He said and started to get all chocked up again. Peter took a step forward and opened his arms to hug you hit stopped himself. He stepped back and hugged himself instead.

“What are you doing?” You wondered.

“Giving you space.” He said seriously. It made you laugh for some reason which he didn’t understand but he didn’t question it.

“Shut up.” You said when your laughter stopped.

“I didn’t say anything.” Peter said as you threw your arms around him. He stumbled back in surprise but then hugged you back tightly. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and slipped his hands into your hair to hold you closer. It felt like muscle memory to hold you again and the chill in his bones was gone in seconds.

“That was really scary. When the car fell into the water. I couldn’t breathe.” You choked out and he held you tighter.

“I know. Shhh. I know.” He whispered in your ear as you struggled to catch your breath. You pulled away just a little so that you could look at him.

“I thought of you.” You admitted. “When I was trying to find my way back to the surface. I was so tired and my lungs felt like they were going to explode but I just kept thinking that I needed to see you again. That’s what kept me going.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner. I should’ve been here.”

“It’s okay. You’re here now.” You smiled sadly and touched his face. Peter returned the sad smile, the kind the made his eyes crinkle. But as he stared into your eyes, he couldn’t help but think of the things you had said the night you broke up.

“I should’ve been there for you a lot more than I ever had been.” He began. “You didn’t deserve to spend all those nights alone wondering where I was. I should’ve been a better boyfriend to you. I should have just told you the truth. I don’t even know who I was protecting in the end. I told myself it was you but that’s not true because you still got hurt and I was the one who hurt you. And I’m so sorry for that. I’m so fucking sorry. I’m sorry for all of it.”

“Peter, you don’t have to do this right now.” You assured him.

“I do. Because I don’t know when you’re gonna talk to me again and I have so much I have to tell you. So I need you to know that I’m sorry for all the times you got dressed up for me and just never showed. I’m sorry I let you think the distance between us was all in your head even though I felt it too. I’m sorry for all the calls and texts after we broke up because I could never stay away from you. And for following you home everyday because you looking up when you thought to was around was the closest to an encounter that we had most days. And I’m sorry that I clearly didn’t love you hard enough if you were able to move on so quickly. I guess the absence of my love wasn’t much worse than the presence of it. Or maybe the presence of it already felt like an absence. I know I was barely there in the end. I know you deserve better. And I hope you get better. You were always the best part of me and now I’m just the loser who got really lucky that a cool girl liked him and found a way to fuck it all up.”

“You didn’t fuck it all up.” You smiled sadly. “We had a lot of good times too. We were happy.”

“Not enough for you to stay. Which I don’t blame you for. I wish it didn’t take losing you to realize how much I needed to change but it did. So I don’t blame you for being fine without me. You’ll always be fine. You’re better off now without me in your life and I’m just falling to pieces. I guess when a heart breaks, it doesn’t break even.”

You started at him for a moment as your eyebrows came together. You let out a short laugh and expected him to do the same but he just looked confused.

“That’s that song.” You said finally.

“What?”Peter frowned. “What song? I’m pouring my heart out here.”

“I’m falling to pieces, yeah. I’m falling to piece, yeah. Cause when a heartbreak no it don’t break even.” You sang quietly and Peters eyes went up in surprise.

“Oh shit. It is that song.” Peter realized. “Damn it. I thought I made that up. I’ve been listening to The Script a lot lately. Especially the one that’s like “cause if one day you wake up and find that you’re missing me and your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be.” I’ve been blasting that one so much that May had to take my speakers away. So then I started scream-singing it and she threatened to kick me out.”

“It’s so like you to accidentally quote a popular song and think you made it up yourself.” You laughed softly. “You said I so confidently that I genuinely believe for a second that those were your own words. But no. It was just the musical stylings of the popular early 2000s band The Script.”

“The Script are the only people that understand me right now.” Peter mumbled, making you laugh again.

“You laugh but they make the best music for yearning.” Peter continued just to make you laugh again. He smiled at the sight of you laughing at something he had said after so many months of silence between you. When your laughter died down, you looked at him for a moment the way that you used to.

“I don’t want you to yearn anymore.” You told him and gave his hand a squeeze. Peter understood what you were getting at and nodded his head.

“Do you think we could try again?” He asked in a soft voice. You smiled a little and took a step closer to him to rest your hands on his chest.

“I think so.” You answered.

“I swear, everything will be different this time.” He insisted. “I won’t leave you lonely anymore. And we can take it at any pace you need. Just tell me what I can do to earn back your trust.”

“I don’t know. I think maybe I can trust a guy who dives into the Hudson River for me.” You said with a coy smile as you nodded towards the water.

“I really hate to do this right now but that’s actually the East River of-“

“I don’t care.” You laughed and pulled him into a kiss to shut him up.

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magics-neptunes-things · 2 months

Text

Open your eyes

Hi guys!

A new one, you can find the ask in here, from the prompt here :) For this one it's the number 2 and 9.

Alexia I miss you :(

Enjoy ♥

______________________________________________________________

Alexia. You’ve known her since you were a little girl. You met her when the ball she was playing with ended up in your backyard and she came looking for it, half hidden behind her father. Yours gave it back to them and the first look you exchanged with her was separated by the two pairs of legs of your fathers.

Over the years you have developed a flawless friendship, even if the life paths you have chosen are different. Alexia is a world-famous footballer, and you decided to follow your dream to become a photographer. You studied for that and you work for an agency that offers you mandates that allow you to live in a very comfortable way. And over time you have made your own customers who don't hesitate to contact you directly. Not to mention that, thanks to Alexia’s influence, the Barcelona football club calls you whenever they need official photos.

You have been present for Alexia during her career, attending her ups and downs. You were there during her various operations and Alexia convinced you to agree to participate in the report made on her, "Labor Omnia Vincit". You even gave an interview, some of which was broadcast on that occasion. The title "Childhood Friend and Photographer" made you laugh, because Alexia is much more than that to you.

The truth is, you’re completely in love with her.

You couldn't say how long, but in your opinion always even if you didn't understand the signs right away in your teenage naivety. Lost in your sexuality, you first tried to date boys, before turning to girls. Alexia never showed any signs of attraction to you, so you desperately tried to stifle your feelings for her in other people’s arms when Alexia was cooing with someone else.

It never worked out.

In fact, you’ve been single for about four years now and you’re resigned to ending up an old maid in your apartment with your two cats.

You had the misfortune to confide in Mapi about your feelings during an evening a little too alcoholic in which Alexia didn't participate, And since, she reminds you regularly that you should do something to get out of this situation. Alexia never being very clear about it, the tattooed doesn't really know what are the feelings of the blonde for you. But she told you that anyway, if Alexia has romantic feelings for you, seeing you with someone after so many years could make her react.

You don’t believe it for a second, it never has before so you don’t see why it would change today.

********

"You have to do something Y/N, it’s no longer possible" sighs Mapi.

She’s been watching you nibble the black straw of your cocktail for longs minutes, looking gloomy. Alexia has obviously caught the eye of a girl tonight, with whom she has been talking for quite a while.

"What?" You mutter mechanically in return, not listening to her at all, without leaving Alexia’s eyes.

"I feel like I’m having a drink with Wednesday from the Adams Family" complains Mapi

"Let me guess, I should "Try another girls"? "

You use your fingers to mimic quotes, making Mapi’s rolls eyes.

"Clearly. I can feel your tension from here, you need to get laid."

"Oh fuck off Maria" you sigh as you let yourself go against the backrest of your chair. "Just go with your girlfriend and leave me alone"

You finally turned your eyes away from your best friend, but that’s only because she started looking at you. I’d rather swallow your straw right away than be caught looking at her.

After raising her middle finger in your direction, Mapi actually decides to join Ingrid on the dance floor. This doesn't prevent her from fondly tapping on your shoulder when she gets up.

You sigh and decide it’s time to go home. Alexia is no longer where she was and you’re not sure your nerves will stand to see her exchanging kisses with someone else. But when you get up, you are suddenly face with young woman who looks at you with a hesitant look.

"Hi" said the young woman timidly with an uncertain air.

"Hi?"

Her timid smiles is strange, but you let her explain the reason of her sudden presence next to you.

"Um… it’s probably a little weird, but your friend over there told me you haven’t stopped looking at me all night, and you're like kind of cute so…"

You follow the direction she shows you with her head, but you figured it out before your eyes fell on Mapi. The spaniard addresses you a big smile and a sign of the hand, then a wink too exaggerated. You hold back a sigh and turn your attention to the young woman in front of you. Blonde, with some tattoos, taller than you and green eyes. You weren’t looking at her, but you see very well what Mapi wanted to do. She is unbearable.

"Were you going to go home?" continues the blonde, looking at your purse in your hand and your jacket on your shoulders.

"Um… I was, to be really honest with you"

"Would you mind staying while I offer you at least one drink? Not for long, I swear."

You hesitate for a split second, looking at her thoughtfully. She looks nice and deep down she's not responsible of you being desperately in love with your best friend. You briefly bite the inside of your lip before deciding to accept.

"Great!"

After taking your order, Erika (who just told you her name) hurries to the bar. You sit back at the table, waiting for her return and you thank her with a big smile when she's back. You realize with a certain surprise that you actually get along pretty well. Erika has an easy conversation and you catch yourself laughing at what she tells you. If you don’t notice Alexia watching you from the bar where she’s leaning, Mapi doesn’t miss that little detail. Despite Ingrid who asks her to take care of her affairs.

You’ve been talking to Erika for 30 minutes when Alexia comes to sit beside you, putting her hand on your shoulder when she sits next to you.

"Oh hi. I wondered where you’ve been" you smile at her

"At the bar" mumble Alexia.

"Hum, okay" you answer before turning to Erika. "Ale, this is Erika. Erika, this is..."

"Alexia Putellas. I know" Erika smiles in a friendly way before reaching out to Alexia.

Alexia grabs her hand and smiles, but that’s not the kind of smile you like about Alexia. It’s the same kind of smile as when she forces herself on photos, not those that make her eyes shine. You wish you could question her, but you don’t see yourself doing it when Erika is with you.

"Do you want another drink?" Erika offers, putting her hand on yours.

You accept with a smile and she smiles back before getting up from her chair to go to the bar.

"Is everything okay?" You take the opportunity to ask Alexia.

"Why wouldn’t I be okay?"

The answer surprises you, you didn't expect a question back to yours, to be completely honest. Her gaze plunges into yours and you have the impression that it pierces you. You have well understood that something bothers her and as you are about to ask her if it's in relation to the girl with whom she was talking, Mapi lets herself fall loudly in a chair beside you.

"Well then? Where’s your pretty blonde, Y/N?"

"She went back to get us a drink. Besides, wait until I take care of your case" you add pointing an accusing finger at her.

"Oh, no need to thank me, it’s all natural" grins Mapi.

"I hate you" you mumble

"Besides, if I were you, I would join her rather than let her come back to the three of us. Kind of weird to find herself with your two friends."

You also don’t see the annoyed look Alexia gives her, but you’re not sure it’s a good idea. But Mapi doesn’t give you much choice again, forcing you to get up from your chair and push you in her direction. You end up going there and Mapi doesn't wait a single second to turn in Alexia's direction.

"What was that?"

"What?" Alexia groans.

"Your behavior Ale. You were in a good mood until Y/N started talking to Erika"

Alexia answers nothing, shrugging her shoulders before crossing her arms over her chest. Now she's the one looking gloomy.

"Wait, where did she go?"

Alexia’s frenetic gaze travels through the room without being able to find you, which annoys her as much as it worries her. While she's about to get up from her chair to go looking for you, Mapi puts a hand on her arm to prevent her from doing so.

"Alexia."

"You don’t know who this girl is and you’re pushing her in her arms," Alexia abruptly says. "She’s probably not good enough for her, since when do we meet great people in nightclubs? Y/N need someone who bought her flower, take her on romantic dates and who will take care of her. That's not the kind of person you met in here."

Mapi remains silent, for so long that Alexia ends up ripping her eyes from the room to report it on the tattooed girl. Who looks at her with a perplexed look.

"I can’t tell if you’re lying to me or if you’re lying to yourself"

Although Alexia’s jaw is tight, Mapi sees her move distinctly when she looks for the right words to respond.

"I don’t know what you mean"

Mapi snorts at such bad faith, gently shaking her head. Since the captain decided to be stubborn, Mapi decides to talk the facts.

"You’re in love with her, Alexia"

Mapi’s tone is accusatory but Alexia answers nothing to it, her gaze stubbornly fixed somewhere in the room and her arms still crossed.

"Why are you reacting like this? Why is this a problem, Ale?"

"She’s my best friend, Maria. She’s known me since we were six"

"Yes, and what?"

"She’ll never look at me that way. I don’t know when my feelings have changed, but I can’t tell her."

"But why not?" Mapi almost shout

"Forget it" Alexia warns.

Mapi rolls her eyes and decides to let it go for the moment, plunging the two friends into a silence for several minutes. If Alexia remains silent, always looking for you everywhere in the establishment, so Mapi takes the opportunity to check that no one tries to approach Ingrid.

You end up coming back about thirty minutes after Alexia lost sight of you. You’re alone, but she doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or not. At any moment you'll tell them you’re going to leave with Erika.

"Where were you?" asks dryly Alexia, looking at you

"Um… in the bathroom?"

"What? With Erika?" Mapi smirks, almost jumping in her chair. "Did you sleep with her?"

"In the bathroom of a bar?"

You bow an eyebrow with a grimace and the shadow of a smile is born on Alexia’s face, despite her arms still crossed on her chest. Mapi shrugs her shoulders with an innocent face and you don’t want to know what kind of things she made in nightclub's bathroom.

"Where is she then?" insists Mapi

"She’s gone home" you shrug

"Without you? Do you even have her number? Did she kiss you at least?"

You blush and it's finally Alexia who puts an end to your ordeal. You are grateful to her, even if you don't know that it's also to put an end to hers that the Catalan decides to intervene.

"Mapi, stop. Now. I’ll go home too, I’ll take you home, Y/N?"

"With pleasure" you smile affectionately at her.

You get your jacket and purse back for good this time and say goodbye to the other girls before following Alexia to the exit.

You smile when you feel her put a hand between your shoulder blades to guide you to her car, even if you know perfectly where it's parked since you arrived together. It's in silence that you sit in her car and Alexia starts it.

"You didn’t answer Mapi’s question earlier"

Alexia’s observation makes you turn your head in her direction, whereas you were lost in the contemplation of the buildings of Barcelona by night.

"And you blushed. You kissed her?"

You sigh softly before shaking your head negatively. You’re not sure that talking to Alexia is the right thing to do, since it’s exactly because of her that things didn’t go further with Erika. When she tried to kiss you, you panicked and left.

"No" you end up answering, looking out the window with a new found passion.

You miss the relief that passes on Alexia’s face when she hear your answer. She doesn’t need to know why, just to know that nothing happened is enough for her. So it's with a little more joy that she brings you home and with a real smile that she accepts when you offer her to sleep at your home again that night.

"What about you? You didn't tell me what happened with your beautiful stranger" you point out once installed on your sofa with a bottle of water in hand and a shit telenovela on TV.

"Because there is nothing to tell. We just talked"

You just hums, leaning your head against her shoulder. You sigh with happiness when she puts her arm around your waist and you don't hesitate to cuddle up against her. If you have to keep your feelings quiet, at least you have the chance to find some physical comfort from her.

"So it wasn't because of her you were upset?"

You feel Alexia lean slightly against you and you cross her eyes when you raise your head to be able to look at her. There is something special in her eyes and you can't say what it is. It's a first in your life, you like to say that you're one of the people who knows Alexia the best.

"No" answer simply Alexia at first. "I just... I don't know. It was weird seeing you with another girl again"

You shrug, not realizing what she really mean. You are too used to silence your feelings and it has been many years since you have well integrated that Alexia sees you only as a friend.

"I’m not sure I’ll see her again anyway"

"Good. She’s probably not good enough for you"

You answer with a simple shrug again, putting your head back on her shoulder. You don’t realize that Alexia is frying her brain, trying to extricate herself from the conversation you’re in. Seeing you with someone else made her realize that it was time she tried something before it was too late. But she doesn’t know how to make you understand things without being too shocking or surprising for you.

"Maybe I should try Tinder or something" you mumble.

"Don't be stupid. You're better than that"

Alexia’s answer is dry, but you don't even react, imagining that it's only the disgust that this kind of application gives her that speaks. And not the idea of imagining you in the arms of someone else who annoys her prodigiously.

"I don’t have many other solutions left" you point out to her when you stand up to put your bottle of water on the table.

"Maybe you should just… open your eyes?"

"What do you mean, open my eyes?" you ask while arching an eyebrow.

Suddenly, Alexia decides that she's tired of this conversation that goes around again and again. That seems to lead you nowhere. She doesn't want to rush you but gently make you realize the reality of her feelings for you. But she feels like you will never understand.

So, she takes advantage of the fact that you are sitting and no longer lying against her to catch the necklace that she offered you for your birthday, using her index finger to attract you against her. Without you really understanding how, her lips are against yours and the way you feel is even better than you’ve ever imagined.

Alexia’s lips are soft, as you dreamed about it. They taste like her lip balm and not alcohol since she has not consumed it all evening. You briefly wonder if yours tastes like mojito, before this question evaporates when you feel her tongue caressing your lower lip.

From there, the kiss becomes a little more intense and you forget everything else. You’re not even sure you can identify yourself if you’ve been ask when the kiss stop so you can both breath again. You keep your eyes closed for a few seconds, to soak up as much as possible of this moment and not forget the slightest detail.

When you open your eyes, Alexia’s eyes are looking at you with a multitude of emotions. She seems to be as breathless as you. Which is probably a good news, thus testifying that you aren't the only one to be under the blow of this kiss. Moreover you don't fight yourself for long before you let your desire to start again. So you bend in her direction for a new kiss.

Alexia answers it, but takes off from you too fast for your taste. You hear her giggle softly when you whine and your lips chase hers, but you step back when you feel her hand resting on your stomach to stop you. Frowning, you look at her wondering what is more important than enjoying these new sensations.

"I just… before I go on… I mean… it’s not just like that, right? Does it mean anything to you too?" ramble Alexia.

"Of course you do" you smile softly at the blonde’s hesitation "You always meant the world to me, Ale."

"Perfect" smiled Alexia before leaning over you for a new kiss. "Now we can kiss again."

And you do. This one won’t be interrupted by thoughts of one or the other. After all, you’ll have plenty of time to discuss all this tomorrow.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas

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luveline · 11 months

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SPOILERS FROM SPIDER-MAN ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE BELOW

please don’t read any further if you are avoiding spoilers for satsv

I hope it’s okay that I took this for a request anon! this is a follow up to The Wishing Tree so you’re welcome to read that beforehand if you want to, but otherwise I think if you’ve seen the movie you’ll hopefully understand what’s happening anyhow. miguel x fem!reader

Miguel's been different lately. Ever since the night he got mugged, he's changed. There's something he's not telling you. You wonder if you should ask him about it, but guiltily, shamefully, you don't want to. You don't want this to stop.

Because all of a sudden it's like he's in love with you again. You're being cruel to him, you worry, in thinking he didn't love you before. Of course he did. Just getting married, having a child together, it’s changed you both so much over the years, it's only natural that the honeymoon affection faded. Natural, and yet you'd been missing it. You didn't realise how much until now.

Miguel gets home from work now and he's tentatively sweet. Before, he'd get home, sighing from how tired he felt, overlooked and overworked at Alchemex, and there'd be little energy left in him for more than a kiss on the cheek and a shoulder squeeze. You missed him and you were glad to have him home, but you wanted more from him that you felt you couldn't ask for.

These days you're waiting by the door and pretending you aren't. You'd be embarrassed if he found out. Maybe he knows; there's no reason for you to be sitting on the stairs with a half full laundry basket in hand, but there you are, your heart racing with an almost teenage-like excitement.

"Hey," Miguel says, smiling as he brushes through the door. "Are you okay? Why are you sitting there?" He waves his hand at you ineffectually as he takes off his coat, hanging it on the rack.

"Just got tired," you lie, slightly breathless at the sight of his smile.

He really looks like he adores you. All the time. It's making you weird, but how are you supposed to react? You'd never slander him to anyone, but it had been so disappointing to wait for him and get brushed off night after night. You know he was tired. You know he was doing it for you, for Gabriella. But you can't help feeling the difference.

"You sure?" he asks, tucking his bag into the hutch.

You nod.

He nods back, murmuring, "Okay," as he leans down to kiss you. On the lips, and not the cheek.

He takes the laundry basket from your lap quicker than you realise. You can't stop him in time as he steps around you on the stairs and races up them to the bathroom where the washing machine resides. Your heart jumps into your throat —he'll see the full load and he'll know you were sitting there with the basket for no reason at all. You'd wanted to look busy, and now you'll look like a fool.

You follow him slowly, not wanting to see. Miguel loves you, but he's always said you need affection more than the average person. Not once had he implied that you should feel bad about that, but you had anyhow. What if he thinks you're being childish, wanting to see him?

He puts the basket next to the washing machine, barely looking at it. "No more chores," he says, grinning at you. "You do too much."

You blink. "You think so?"

"Do I think so?" he asks, with a fond incredulity. "You're always doing something. Washing, cleaning, cooking. All you have to do tonight is sit down. Can you do that?"

"You don't have to tell me twice," you say.

Maybe this will wear off. Someone held a gun to his chest and it unsettled him, knowing how close he was to dying. He's feeling grateful for a second chance, and it's manifesting in all this extra care and adoring. In another month, he'll settle down. Still your husband, still an angel, but not so touchy.

Or maybe he'll stay like this. It's been three weeks now and he shows no signs of stopping, if anything he's getting more and more affectionate every day. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders from behind last night while he was sitting at the kitchen table, expecting him to kiss your cheek and gently nudge you away, but he'd covered your arms and held them, kissing a tender line from the crook of your arm to your shoulder. When he spoke it was with a warm, almost husky cadence. Hello, you.

He's staring at you. "What are you thinking about?" he asks.

"Nothing." He raises his eyebrows at you. "Nothing, just wondering what to make for dinner," you say.

His hand finds your wrist, pulling you toward him. "What don't you understand about sitting down? I can make dinner."

"You've worked all day," you protest.

"What have you been doing?" Miguel pulls your hand to his chest. "What, am I a bad cook?"

"I'm always asking you to cook," you say.

Miguel kisses your knuckles where they rest against his collar, rubbing them with enough tenderness to have you reeling. He must see something in your face, because the lovey-dovey softness in his own expression melds to hesitation.

"Is something wrong?" he asks.

When he looks at you like that, you can't lie to him. "No. It's not that something is wrong, exactly, but… you're being so nice to me."

Distress or something similar flashes in his eyes, so quickly you think you might have imagined it.

"I'm not usually like this," he says carefully.

You're expecting him to be offended by what you aren't saying. You've had similar fights before. I don't have time for this, cariño.

You shake your head vehemently before he can get the wrong idea, but he isn't mad. His hands are soft as he grasps your shoulders, his thumbs rubbing quarter circles as soon as they touch down. Your surprise is obvious.

"Do you wish I was nicer?" he asks.

"You're plenty nice, my love, really. That's not what I meant."

"No, but humour me."

You grab his elbow. "It's not about being nicer. I just… I know I can be a bit much for you, and I know what happened was scary and confusing, and now you're back safe, you– you don't have to do all of this. Not if you don't want to."

He's classically handsome and has been since the day you met, but there's something to be said about how love changes his features. How affection for you softens his strong jaw, his thick eyebrows inching up his forehead just so.

"I don't want you to be nicer," you say quietly, looking down at his chest. "But this has been nice. I finally feel like–"

You stop short as Miguel takes your face into his hand. His thumb along your jaw, he tilts your head up straight.

"What?"

"I was worried maybe I was getting to be too much for you," you say. "But not lately. I'm sorry."

The look he gives you is peculiar. He looks sorry, which is both unexpected and not, and he looks glad. Like you've told him something he wants to hear.

Light from the frosted bathroom window catches his eyes, has brown turning to liquid honey, his lashes a neat hedging that grows fainter in the sun. They lower as his gaze falls to your mouth.

"Can I…" he trails off.

He shakes his head gently and leans in, pausing a half a centimetre from your lips. You lean in to meet him.

He kisses you as though there's nowhere in the world he needs to be besides here. He's been so many things since he got home that day, hesitant and hungry, undecided and undulating in his touches. Even late at night, with a hand on his abdomen and your face hovering over his, it was almost like your enthusiasm surprised him.

And now he's realised that you're surprised in turn.

"If I ever gave you the impression," he says, breaking the kiss suddenly like he can't not say what he's thinking, "if you ever for a moment thought that I didn't want too much, I'm sorry. I was an idiot."

"It's not like that," you insist.

"I've been different, I know that. Tell me if it's good or bad different."

You wrap your arms around his neck, on tiptoes to hug him properly. He leans down again, taking the bulk of your weight in his arms like it's easy. Your heels lift off of the tile.

"Good different," you mumble into his shoulder.

"Was that so hard?" he asks.

His playfulness rears. You try to get out of his arms before he can start, but his hands dive for your sides. His tickling makes you laugh so loudly that Gabriella abandons the TV in her room and demands to be tickled too.

—-

thank you for reading and sorry the formatting on this post is ugly but there’s no way for me to put a spoiler warning before an ask so I thought it was best to screenshot the ask and put it underneath one myself!

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togrowoldinv · 9 months

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Milf Wanda Masterlist

Best Friend’s Mom: You wake up next to your best friend’s mom and she begins to seduce you

Devout: You meet Wanda Maximoff at church and she later approaches you with a special request that you just can’t refuse *smut*

First Date: You pick Wanda up at her home for a date and learn a lot about the woman by the time she goes back inside that night *smut*

Five Minutes: You’re jealous, Wanda is jealous. The end result is one very intense break from the volleyball games *smut*

Fix: When you get a house call to fix a car, you have no idea that your payment will come in the form of sleeping with the customer

For The Hope Of It All: Wanda took comfort in you during times of trouble in her marriage. Endings are unavoidable *smut*

Forgetfulness: While dealing with a breakup, you go to the Maximoff house to babysit without remembering you didn’t have to go this week. Wanda comforts you and makes your visit worth your while. *smut*

Friends: You’ve been there for Wanda as a friend, but it’s always felt like something more

Invitation: You accept Wanda’s invitation to ladies night without knowing the deeper meaning of her gesture

It is Well: You’re the choir director at Wanda’s church. One afternoon after church, your relationship with her changes

Mother’s Day Brunch: Wanda invites you over for brunch and things turn intense *smut*

One-On-One: You’re Wanda’s pastor, so when her husband leaves her you reach out to offer her comfort. She tries to push you away on the account that she doesn’t like you, but that changes when she realizes what you could do for her.

Pour Me: You meet an intriguing woman while you’re bartending

Reconnecting: It’s been ten years since you’ve seen Wanda. A lot has changed for her

Settlement: You serve as Wanda’s attorney in her divorce proceedings, which leads to you helping Wanda see she can start again with someone new

Sexiest Woman Alive: Wanda is a renowned actress that you’ve been seeing for a while. She gets named the Sexiest Woman Alive and you show her just how much she deserves it

Sinking Sand: Wanda finds her way back into your life and you can’t resist her

Stress Relief: When Wanda calls, you always meet up with her. Sometimes in her very roomy minivan

Talk: You’re sleeping with your best friend’s mom who has been keeping quite the secret from you

Timeless: After you meet Wanda’s boys for the first time, she finally takes that next relationship step with you *smut*

Swaying As The Room Burned Down: Love in secret and without reason *smut*

The Meeting: When you meet a fellow mom at the PTO meeting, you soon realize just how much love she needs *smut*

The Sweetest Con: When you are put in charge of the volleyball team, you have a very interesting set of interactions with a mother at the church *smut*

To Show Thanks: Wanda does all of the cooking for Thanksgiving and you help her see just how thankful you are for her

Worth the Wait: When Wanda calls you after five years of no contact, you go to her house to talk to her. Some old (and some new) feelings come to light

Find more Wanda here: Wanda Maximoff Masterlist, Main Masterlist

Follow my library blog @togrowoldinvlibrary for fic updates!

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #milf!wanda #wanda maximoff comfort #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff smut

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watchmegetobsessed · 10 months

Note

Any chance you could do a famous single mum reader x Harry fic

since he’s a certified MILF lover

CRUSH

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

SUMMARY: Harry has been into you for way too long, but you haven't given him a chance. You run into each other at the Grammy's afterparty and you finally tell him why you're so adamant about keeping your distance.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Harry will forever remember tonight.

It’s his second time going home as a Grammy winner and nothing can ruin this experience for him, not even how his performance was ruined. He did it again and nothing else matters for now.

Or at least that’s how he should be feeling as he is celebrating with his friends and other winners and artists at the after party, but something keeps bugging him.

Just hours earlier he ran into you again and he hasn’t been able to get you out of his mind since then. It’s no surprise you were at the award show, even though you’re not a singer he could have expected to run into you at one of the most important nights of the year. Yet, he was still surprised to see you walk down the red carpet, but it might have been because you always have that effect on him no matter what.

If someone asked Harry who his celebrity crush was he would say you with no hesitation or remorse. He’s been enamored with you since the first time he met you at some other after party a few years ago. The two of you were introduced by a mutual friend and he stuck to your side for as long as possible, drinking up every word, every laughter and every look you gifted him with. He thought you were way out of his league, he still does, but that doesn’t stop him from yearning after you like a lovesick puppy every time your paths cross. Harry can’t tell how many times he tried to flirt with you before, but his flirty comments were met with soft rejection every time, you never seemed to be returning the gentle feelings and though it was devastating, he knew he could do nothing.

He could at least call you his friend, more or less. He definitely has a tither connection with you than with most people in this room, there’s a bigger circle of friends you both share so you end up meeting every few months without planning it and there are periods when you’re even texting.

He hasn’t talked to you for a while now, so seeing you brought his feelings back he’s been harboring for so long.

Now as he’s sipping on his drink he can’t help but keep looking around, trying to spot you in the crowd to no avail for now. He pulls out his phone and opens the message thread with you, rereading the last few texts he exchanged with you a while back. His thumb hovers over the screen, fighting the urge to hit you up with a message when an elbow meets his side. Looking up he sees Mitch beside him.

“Your crush is here,” he informs Harry with a knowing smirk, nodding towards the bar.

He follows his friend’s gaze and spots you only seconds later. You’ve changed out of your burgundy gown he saw you wearing earlier, sporting a chic pant suit this time, but you’re just as breathtaking as ever.

Mitch just chuckles when Harry gets up without a word and heads over to you. Pushing between guests he ignores everyone who might try to strike a conversation up with him until he finally reaches you.

“Y/N, hi!” he smiles at you warmly. You turn to face him with a cocktail in your hands, a wide smile stretching across your face.

“Harry! What a nice surprise!” you chuckle. “Congrats on your wins!” You don’t hesitate to put an arm around his neck and pull him into a hug that he returns gladly.

“Thank you.”

“Though it was no surprise you won, the album is amazing.”

“You listened to it?”

“Of course,” you chuckle. “I wouldn’t have missed it.”

“Do you have a favorite?” he asks with a cheeky smile.

“Hmm, probably… Satellite.”

“Great choice.”

The conversation keeps flowing and suddenly it feels like it’s just the two of you even though it’s a crowded party that’s happening around you. Harry realizes that no matter how much time passes between each time he sees you, he will always catch himself falling for you over and over again. He tries to flirt with you this time as well and this is the first time he can feel like his rizz is not going straight over your head.

“Y/N, I need you to be very honest with me,” he starts, when you both had a few drinks. Neither of you is drunk, but definitely tipsy.

“About what?” you chuckle.

“Do I have a chance with you? For real, I’m not playing here,” he smirks, placing one hand to his chest, while holding up the other one, his half empty glass rising into the air.

You sigh deeply, looking away from him as you busy yourself with your own drink.

“Ah, it hurts!” he acts as if he was shot in the chest. “Am I that ugly and boring?”

“Of course, you’re not!” you roll your eyes.

“Okay, do you like me?”

“I do,” you admit, avoiding to look him in the eyes.

“Alright, then let’s take this conversation over to my place.”

“I can’t,” you shake your head.

“We can go to yours as well, I’m fine with that too,” Harry half jokes, but he notices that you’re not laughing. “Y/N, what is it then?”

“I need to get some air.” Jumping to your feet you leave your drink behind and head out to the back of the place that’s the smoking area, hoping to be alone for a bit, but Harry rushes after you, determined to get answers this time.

He finds you in a dark corner, your arms wrapped around yourself as you stare out into the void.

“Y/N, I’m sorry if I went too far, I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s… fine.”

“I just… fuck, I really like you. A lot. I can’t stop thinking about you and… I couldn’t just not shoot my shot.”

“You’ve been shooting your shot for a long time.” He finally sees a tiny smile on your lips.

“So you did notice my attempts?” he grins. “Just chose to ignore them, I guess?”

“Harry, I can’t.”

“Can’t ignore them anymore?”

“No. I can’t date you.”

“Can’t as in…?”

Sighing, your head falls back, against the wall as you close your eyes for a few seconds before opening them and finally looking at him.

“I don’t date.”

“Why?”

“Because of Arian.”

The picture is finally crystal clear in Harry’s head. You’re depriving yourself from dating because of your son.

It’s no news to Harry that you’re a mother, he has even met your five year-old son, but he never thought of him as the reason why you keep rejecting him. You keep your private life pretty hush hush, especially since you split from your ex, Arian’s father three years ago. No one knows why you called it quits and there’s actually no photo of the little boy online either, that’s how dedicated you are to protect him from the public. Harry completely understands it, but he doesn’t see why you can’t date because of Arian.

“The little guy doesn’t want to share you with anyone else?” he tries to joke.

“I’m a single mother who is also an actress. My life is complicated enough without dates and boyfriends.”

“Woah, we’re only talking about one boyfriend,” Harry puts his hands to his chest. You crack a smile, but it’s not as genuine as he would want it to be.

“It’s just not the right time for me to start dating again. I’m sorry.”

“I’m a little hurt you’re not even giving me a chance.”

“I’m sure dating a single mother is not exactly your dream either.”

“Y/N, I haven’t even thought about it until you brought it up. Arian is a cool little guy and I have no problem with you being a mother.”

“You will at one point, trust me,” you scoff and Harry tries not to take it personal. You’re just trying to protect yourself and your son, it’s not against him.

“What if I prove that it’s fine? That I’m not just some random guy who will come and go?”

Staring back at him you chew on his words as you tilt your head to the side.

“We’ll see.”

At first the peace and quiet takes over your waking mind. You feel a gentle breeze from the window you left open for the night and you stretch long underneath the silky covers when it finally dawns on you.

It’s peaceful. And quiet. You haven’t had a morning like this in about… well, five years. Arian loves to wake you up whenever you’re home, jumping on the mattress, or just cuddling to you, either way, he never misses a chance to spend a morning with you.

So where is he now?

Slight panic rushes through your veins as you quickly wrap yourself in your silky robe and head out to find your baby. All the worst case scenarios flash through your mind, but they dissolve the moment you reach the stairs and hear his laughter coming from the kitchen. With careful steps you approach the source of his voice that’s mixed with another one, a more mature male voice that you don’t recognize at first but when you round the corner and see what’s happening in your kitchen, recognition washes over you.

Harry Styles is making pancakes in your kitchen with your son. And they are making a big mess, but Arian seems to be enjoying it. Music is playing in the background and there’s a ginormous bouquet of flowers on the kitchen island. Your heart flutters in your chest as you walk closer.

“Mommy!” Arian notices you and climbing off his stool he runs over to you and you gladly pick him up into your arms.

“Hey baby, what’s… what’s happening here?”

“Harry is making us pancakes!” He throws his hands up into the air in excitement as you walk over to the kitchen island and sit him down on top of it.

“Good morning, Y/N,” he smiles at you so charmingly, it’s hard to focus on the fact that he is in your house on a Saturday morning.

“Hi, what do you… Um, what are you doing here?”

“Mommy, I told you, he is making us pancakes!” Arian giggles.

“I know, baby. Hey, you’re still in your pajamas, why don’t you go up and change?” You help him off the counter and gently push him towards the stairs. He runs off singing to himself.

“Before you throw me out,” Harry starts, holding the spatula up, “You told me to prove it.”

“Prove what?”

“That it’s fine that you’re a mom. So, this is our first date, in your house, with your son, so you don’t have to worry about him or get a babysitter.”

“How did you even get into my house?” you chuckle in disbelief. You’re definitely touched by the gesture, you don’t like to spend time away from Arian when you’re not working.

Grinning, he starts flipping the pancakes in the pan.

“Well, I might or might not have contacted your agent who hooked me up with your housekeeper who let me in this morning.”

“Wow, my own staff betrayed me,” you chuckle.

“I wouldn’t say betrayed. They both were happy to help me, because they want what’s best for you.”

“And that would be you?” you ask, arching an eyebrow at his cockiness. He shrugs, but his smirk tells it all.

“Look,” he sighs, turning the stove off. “I really did mean it. I don’t care that you’re a mom. It’s all good, it’s part of you. I don’t want to just come and go in your and Arian’s life. Just give me a chance to prove that it could work.”

He must have some kind of magic power over you, because he really just waltzed in here, made some pancakes and convinced you to change your mind.

“Arian will always come first for me, Harry.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t expect anything else,” he nods.

“That means that even in my limited free time, you’ll most likely have to share me with him. I’m not the type to let nannies and babysitters raise my child.”

“And I love that about you. Arian is lucky to have you as his mother.”

Staring back at him you want to say no, but you simply can’t. It’s impossible.

“Okay,” is all you say.

“Okay as in… You’ll give me a chance?”

“Yes, but don’t fuck it up,” you chuckle as Harry walks closer and his hands find your waist, pulling you closer. It’s the first time he is physically this close to you, but it feels like he’s been doing it since forever, like you belong in his arms.

“Never,” he smirks and as he leans closer you hear a pair of tiny feet running down the stairs, so you step back just in time for Arian’s return.

“Give me the pancakes!” he giggles, climbing up to a stool and you smile at Harry.

“See, he is already cockblocking you,” you whisper to him chuckling.

“Touché,” he sighs with a smirk. “But he is cute, so it’s alright.” Shaking it all off he turns to Arian as he places the pancakes on a plate. “So, what do you want on top?”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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moonjella · 1 year

Text

MASQUERADE — 00 LINE

pairing || 00 line x fem!reader

synopsis || it's your first halloween at this prestigious school and with it is your first annual halloween masquerade. it's elegance and classiness mixed with the spirits of the young and drunk — a party like no other. but there is one rule : do not remove your mask. easy enough in theory, but in practise you find yourself to be the only prey in a room full of predators.

content || mature, minors do not interact! alcohol consumption. explicit smut — gangbang, unprotected sex, pulling out, cumming inside, cunningulus, fingering, blowjob, doggy style, riding, double penetration (spitroasting), anal play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, petplay, petnames, degradation and praise, dom/sub dynamics.

word count || 6.9k

author's note || for @underworldnet’s halloween event — day eight : costume.

“A bunny?” you scoff. “Really?”

“It was the only thing left in your size.” Shotaro explains. And in all honesty, it looks like the dress is two times smaller than anything you’ve worn before.

“I’m sure the fancy dress store would have had something better.”

“And I’m sure you know that this isn’t a party for five–year–olds. This isn’t fancy dress, it’s fancy dress. As a member of the committee, I can’t allow you into the party with me if you don’t follow the rules.”

“Maybe that’s the point,” you snatch the dress from his hands and throw it onto the bed. But you pick up the glamorous mask from the box he’d opened for you. This, at least, was something to admire.

A bunny mask, white with gems and lace dotted delicately across it with two white feathers poking from the top to act as ears.

“Come on,” he whines. “You promised you’d come this year.”

“I know I did but now that it’s a few hours away, I’m beginning to think it’s okay to break some promises.”

“You’d really break a promise with your best friend?” he gasps. It sounds like he’s only kidding when he fake sobs but it’s Shotaro and you know it means something to him deep down.

He’s your best friend, after all.

You tut and let out a quiet exhale.

“I’ll go,” you say to him. “But is there really nothing else I can wear?”

“I spent all day shopping to find your costume…” he pouts.

“Fine,” you huff. “Is there a reason I’m bunny?”

“Didn’t I tell you this year’s theme is animals?”

“I thought it was masquerade.”

“Every year is masquerade, dummie. But the theme changes every year, not many people go with the theme anyway. But I thought it would be fun for us to do it, since it’s your first time.”

“What’s your animal?” you ask him.

“I’m an otter.” He says with the biggest, dorkiest smile ever.

“An otter?”

“Yeah!” his eyes close up from how much he’s smiling and you can’t find it in yourself to question his choice further.

“This party’s a big deal, huh?” you mutter to yourself.

“I’ll pick you up at nine, ‘kay?”

You nod and wave him goodbye while he runs out of your room. You know in the few hours until the party, he’ll barely have enough time to get ready himself since he’s part of the committee.

Neither you or Shotaro were party people, but the annual Halloween masquerade is something he takes pride in — mainly because him and a bunch of his friends host it every year, but also because he loves the spooky season.

Though, you can imagine there’d be little festivities happening tonight.

With the kind of crowd at your college — a prestigious and expensive kind — the partygoers only care about drinking overpriced champagne and showing off their designer outfits.

It’s not that you never attended by your own choice. Shotaro invited you every year but last year you fell sick and the year before you were behind with assignments.

You feel worried, in a way. Sure, you’ve been to your share of parties. But this is the biggest party of the year. And your outfit seemed lame.

Tonnes of people go as bunnies, and the number of bunnies would be higher since the theme is animals. Oh well, you trust Shotaro’s choice.

You sigh as you look over the items on your bed.

The white dress, the embellished mask and a pair of white kitten heels — Shotaro knows you wouldn’t be able to handle stilettos for an entire night and you silently thank him for taking note.

You remind yourself to pay him in return for going shopping on your behalf as you get in the shower. Playing your favourite songs, you get ready with a bit of a lighter mood.

Since you’re wearing a mask, you don’t go too heavy on the eyes and instead focus on picking out the perfect shade of lipstick. And then you move onto your hair.

When you’re done, you slip into your dress, fumbling with the zipper as your arms reach around your back to pull it up. You put on your shoes and straighten yourself out in the mirror.

You look… beautiful.

White never looked so good on you.

No one in the entire campus has seen you show so much skin and you begin to tremble with bad nerves but a knock on your room door grounds you.

“You look amazing!” Shotaro looks you up and down with a huge smile.

He is donned in a brown tweed suit. His hair is slicked back and the upper half of his face is covered with a mask — rounded eyes and rounded ears and brown fur.

“Mr. Otter,” you greet him. “You’re late.”

“Only by two minutes,” he grins and picks up your mask before tying the ribbons around your head, making sure to not spoil your perfectly styled hair. “How are you feeling?”

“A little nervous, but I’m starting to feel excited.”

Although the pit of your stomach is a little wobbly, there is a thrilling sensation in your chest that outweighs it. it’s safe to say you’re not as reluctant as before now that Shotaro is here. He’s so happy to see you.

You can only imagine how excited he is for you to finally attend his party.

Maybe it’s the excitement of Shotaro escorting you, or the fact that it’s your first time going, but when you look in the mirror while he fixes your mask, you feel like a completely different person. And you like it.

Maybe just for one night, you could be someone else.

“Ready to go?” he asks.

Your hand slips into his naturally. “Yeah.”

“You remember the rule, right?”

“Don’t take off your mask.”

The party is everything you imagined it to be, and everything you didn’t imagine it to be.

You’re in awe at the sheer elegance of it.

Sure, you’ve heard many stories about it. You never attended but it was no doubt a hot topic of conversation for days afterwards and people began looking forward to next year’s party immediately.

As you stepped into the hall, it feels like a new age ballroom for modern teens.

Like the old days of high society somehow met with drunken teen spirit of the twenty–first century.

You would be lying to say you aren’t impressed when Shotaro asks you.

Staring up at the dazzling chandeliers, Shotaro’s arm slips from your hold as he hugs some random guy. You don’t recognise him because of the mask he’s wearing, but he’s all green. His suit a dark shade of emerald velvet while his mask is a few shades lighter with textured snake skin.

His smile, on the other hand, is charming and completely unalike to a snake.

They exchange chatter and you don’t pay attention to their words until Mr. Snake lays his eyes on you. His pretty smile widens to show a perfect set of teeth.

Before he can introduce himself, you’re met with a handful of girls who’ve been excited to see you since you announced to them you’d be at the party. They whisk you away and you give a sorry wave to Shotaro.

You didn’t want to leave him so early but he cheers you on with raised fists.

You’re rushed onto the dance floor but you want nothing more than to peel away from the crammed bodies. For a few moments, you blend in on the border of enjoying dancing but you’d need a few drinks to loosen up first.

You escape the grasp of sweaty bodies wrapped in expensive clothes and slip away to the side.

If the party is this hyper right now, you certainly don’t feel excited for how much louder it will get in a few hours.

But then again… tonight’s all about letting go, right?

It wouldn’t hurt to join in with the chaos for one night.

Everyone’s wearing masks and you can barely recognise who is who unless you know them personally.

There’s a hint of fun among all of this.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up and a gentle shiver runs down your spine. It’s thrilling. And you feel like everyone is watching — your body grows a little to elated to what you’re used to.

Backing away from the crowd, you walk over to the punch table.

You sniff it before drinking, registering a hint of alcohol hidden among the fruity taste.

If you wanted to get completely wasted, you’d have started with the champagne on the other side of the room but you settle with some surprisingly good punch for now.

You just needed easing up a little.

And it works pretty fast. Your shoulders slowly relax and the dancefloor doesn’t seem so daunting now.

You feel a timid buzz in your body and it becomes stronger when someone joins you at the punch table.

He leans his butt against it after pouring a cup and sips it while looking you up and down.

You feel yourself burst into flames under the gaze of… a bear?

“Bunny?”

You nod.

“Nice,” he smirks. “You’re missing a tail, though.”

You roll your eyes and sip your own drink while his eyes slip down your back to your butt where he would expect to see a plush ball of white fur. You didn’t think about it until now, but your mask and ears are enough to let others know what animal you are. A missing tail isn’t a big deal.

But the way Mr. Bear looks at your body is.

It’s a new feeling; you like it, but you also don’t.

Discomfort floods your body but at the same time, you don’t want the feeling to go away. You can feel the walls of your comfort zone breaking away little by little.

You sigh at the thought. You’re doing this for Shotaro, remember?

Speaking of, you glance around the room and spot him surrounded by a group of people. Always the social butterfly. You feel proud of him in a way, but it didn’t help that you’re too awkward to speak to anybody else in the room.

Small talk has never been your expertise.

“Enjoying the party?” Mr. Bear asks.

“Sure.”

“Just sure? Not this is the best party you’ve ever been to?”

“It’s not the worst,” you shrug.

He chuckles and takes another sip of his drink.

“You look like you don’t go to many parties.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why are you here?”

Now, who does he think he is interrogating you for no reason, hm? His bear mask is less than intimidating, but the smirk on his face when he sees you firing up is enough to unsettle your nerves.

He’s here to piss you off on purpose.

There’s no need to give him what he wants.

Just finish your drink and go to the dance floor, maybe find Shotaro and dance with him for a bit before leaving.

“It’s rude to ignore people. It would be a shame to see a cute, little bunny get into trouble with the big, bad bear.”

He scoots over to you as he says it and he makes sure to whisper it right into your ear.

You swallow, ignoring the way his breath floats over your skin and causes goosebumps to rise. You curse the dress for not being long enough to hide how your body reacts to him.

“Big and bad, my ass,” you scoff, hiding your nervousness with an attitude. “You’re as intimidating as my little toe.”

You roll your eyes. When is this loser going to leave?

“You here with anyone?”

“What?”

“Did you come here with a date or are you alone?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Just curious if you had an invite.”

“First of all, I was invited. And secondly, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t choose to spend my night breaking into some dumb party.”

“You sound angry,” he hisses. “Maybe you should leave if you don’t like it.”

“I would but some asshole bear keeps trying to talk to me.”

He’s silent for a moment before asking, “Who did you come with?”

Your grit your teeth. All the work the alcohol had done to relax you had failed the moment this pretentious ass came along.

“I came with Shotaro,” you tell him.

“Shotaro?” he laughs. “You gotta be kidding. Do you really expect me to believe that?”

“Why not? Is it so hard to believe?”

“A little,” he admits, clearly becoming agitated with you. “How about I call him over so you can say it to him?”

“What are you—”

“Relax, Haechan” Mr. Snake appears in true snake fashion. He attempts to rub away the tension in Mr. Bear’s shoulders. “She’s with Taro. I saw them come in together.”

The bear bites back a remark and finally shuts up.

With the snake dude is another guy — dark hair and piercing eyes. It takes you a while but you realise his mask depicts a wolf.

“You’re YN, right?” he says. “Taro talks about you a lot.”

You nod silently.

“Shit… you’re YN?” Haechan brings his fist up to cover his mouth. You don’t know why he’s so shocked but him being stunned to silence works for you.

“I’m Jeno.” Mr. Wolf holds out his hand but you don’t take it.

He retracts it slowly and you look to Mr. Snake again.

“Jaemin,” he introduces himself. “And you know Haechan already, I see.”

The four of you fall into silence. After learning their names, you can’t say you know them. You don’t recall ever having classes with any of them.

“Are you enjoying the party?” Mr. Snake slash Jaemin asks.

“It’s fine,” you say plainly. “The company, however, is not.”

Your words cut through the air between you like a knife and you can tell they’re all taken aback. You’re not sure where this fieriness has come from but it feels exhilarating. Seeing them all look at you in surprise while at the same time, their eyes travel up and down your body.

Being set on fire by three different gazes is new but addicting.

You direct your attention to tracing the shape of the pumpkin on your cup of punch while they begin chattering to one another. It’s a little awkward and you’re about to leave before you’re knocked into.

Thankfully, your white dress doesn’t get stained but the white shirt of a tux turns red with the punch.

“Aww, man, my shirt!”

You step back immediately, not wanting any of the stains on you.

“I told you to watch it,” a familiar voice whines. Renjun appears donning a fox mask while patting down YangYang with some napkins. “Oh, hey YN. You look… good.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes stick on your body before looking away.

“Th–thanks…” you mutter.

Renjun is a quiet friend, but he always goes out of his way to speak with you. You have a few classes together and you get along well. But one thing you’ve always wanted to ask him is why he hangs out with YangYang so much.

Renjun is a sweet, calm and mature guy. YangYang is nothing but trouble. He’s loud and grabs attention wherever he goes. You try not to question their friendship much but as Renjun tries to clean the stain on the latter’s suit, you really wonder how their friendship came to be.

YangYang wears a mask with a pointed nose and eyes — an eagle.

Interesting choice.

Being surrounded by them all — all of whom are taller than you — makes you feel intimidated. They share glances between themselves; it’s awkward but no one says anything.

Renjun continues to help YangYang clean himself, Haechan starts whining again and thankfully, it’s not to you. And the other two, Jeno and Jaemin, deal with both Haechan’s annoyance and YangYang’s carelessness.

While they’re distracted, you take the opportunity to slip away and scour the floor for Shotaro. He’s further away now and you don’t look forward to fighting your way through the dancefloor to get to him.

You pull your phone from your purse and send him a quick text message. He checks his phone straight away and his eyes search for you as soon as he sees it and you give him a little wave. He smiles back in acknowledgement before his attention is stolen again.

The message reads: gonna head to the private room for a bit. I’ll come back soon

You head to the said room, looking back to ensure nobody saw you slipping through the back door of the hall and down the empty corridors of the building.

When you reach the room, you close the door quietly behind you.

The lights are already turned on, albeit dim. Somebody probably forgot to switch them off, maybe Shotaro.

He showed you his “secret” room a long time ago but you never visited it frequently until recently. He used it to plan for the party while you studied sitting next to him. No one else ever came when you were alone so you assume it’s an unused room.

Shotaro told you he sometimes comes here alone when he feels stressed, and asked for you to use it freely.

You collapse onto the soft couch; the plush, velvety material drags you deeper while you take off your mask and fling it onto the coffee table.

“So much for getting out of my comfort zone.”

You scroll through your phone until you’re bored and then spend the rest of your time laying in silence staring at the decorated ceiling.

Shotaro probably won’t have much time to come see you away from the party so you decide to head back.

But as soon as you stand, you hear voices growing louder. You stop a few feet away from the door, waiting for them to pass so you can leave only for the door to your room to swing wide open.

You jolt slightly, heart racing for some reason.

“Another shirt ruined. My mom’s going to kill me.” YangYang says as he enters first but stops in his tracks right in front of you.

The others bump into him subsequently.

“YN,” the wolf — Jeno — says. “What are you doing here?”

“I… I was just leaving.” You duck to the side to make a narrow escape but a big, tall bear stands in your way.

“Not so fast, little bunny. You know this is our room, right?”

You clench your jaw. What is it with this guy and trying to cause you problems?

“I didn’t know.”

“So you just go wandering into any room you like?”

“I…, no. Shotaro brought me here. He said I can use it whenever.”

“Oh, he did now?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Now, now children. Let’s not start getting into it again.” Jaemin says.

The others step further into the room and you try to leave again but Haechan still stands in your way.

“You gonna move or what?”

“Would you look at that?” he scoffs. “Bunny’s got a bite.”

If he doesn’t stop, you might actually bite him.

He steps closer and you stand up straighter when he looks down at you. He’s only inches away; he feels… addicting.

“Don’t act so brave, little bunny. Or the big, bad bear might gobble you up whole.”

You scoff.

“Not likely. The majority of a bear’s diet consists of vegetation.”

“Bunny’s got a brain, too.” Jaemin says from the couch. Your back is facing him so you don’t see him picking up the bunny mask you left on the table and waving it to the others. “But not a big one, apparently.”

The rest of them have settled comfortably in the room and before you know it, Haechan is grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you to sit with them.

“What are you doing?!”

“Can’t let you go back out there when you’ve broken the rule. The little bunny needs to be punished.”

“What rule?” you huff. “Let go of me.”

You’re more than surprised when he places you in his lap. Freezing up immediately, your eyes widen but the rest of them act like this is just a normal day.

“Did Taro forget to tell you?” Renjun asks, and then explains, “You’re not allowed to take off your mask.”

“What—”

“Be quiet. You’re annoying me.” Haechan says.

And that’s exactly why he has you in his lap, isn’t it? Being stuck here is definitely a punishment.

They begin yet another conversation, complaining about how exhausted they all are from organising the party.

“Wait, you guys are on the committee?”

“Duh.” Haechan mutters beneath you.

“We all host the party with Shotaro,” Jeno explains. “Every year.”

You take in the information slowly. Maybe you should have thought twice before dissing the party to them earlier. No wonder the man beneath you got so pressed.

Stuck in your thoughts, you fall into silence again before a tickle against your leg stirs you. Jaemin’s fingers trace little patterns into your skin. He meets your eyes briefly before giving his attention back to the others as if nothing happened.

They continue talking but you feel both Haechan and Jaemin growing closer to you.

Haechan’s breath flutters over your skin. He places his chin on your shoulder and teases you ear with his lips. Your too stunned to comprehend his whispers and Jaemin snakes his way closer to you.

The others are watching as the two slowly break down your walls and every nerve in your body is on high alert.

Jaemin’s hand travels past the hem of your dress and you gasp as Haechan’s lips finally touch your skin. He’s soft, gently breathing onto the skin of your neck before biting down.

“Ah!” you yelp.

Your body is hot while the others watch Jaemin rubbing your thighs and Haechan leaving marks all along your shoulder.

“What are you doing?” you whisper.

“Hm? Don’t you like this?”

You bite your lips. You do, but it feels so wrong to admit it.

The desperation takes over, and you nod eagerly. This punishment doesn’t seem bad at all.

“Use your words, bunny. Tell us you want it.”

“I want it.”

“What do you want?”

“You. I want all of you.”

“Fuck…” you hear Jeno chuckle behind you. “Who knew Taro’s girl was this desperate?”

“I…I’m not…”

“Don’t give us that crap,” YangYang butts in. His legs are spread wide on the couch and his arms across the back of it. “Why don’t you come over here?”

“Hey, I had her first!” Haechan whines.

“Fuck you. You’ve had her all this time. You wanna know how hard my dick is from watching?”

“Not my problem.” Haechan says and grabs you by the cheeks, slamming his lips onto yours.

Your mouth opens to his immediately, letting him inside and you feel warmth in every part of you, especially in your core. You rub your thighs together, fidgeting in his lap and ensuring you rock your ass against his hardening cock.

Jaemin is exploring you with him. His hands have snuck under your dress, cupping your ass while he attacks your neck with his lips.

His mask grazes against your jaw and his dark eyes look to you through narrow slits.

There’s something exhilarating about his face being hidden, all of theirs. Maybe it was a good thing you were the only one to break the rule.

Haechan lifts your hips and situates you exactly how he wants.

Your ass presses right onto his dick while Jaemin helps him spread your legs wide on either side of him. He drops to his knees, kissing his way up from your ankles to your inner thighs.

His lips tickle you and your core tenses.

“Mind if I take ‘em off?” He notions towards your white, lacey panties.

You nod, swallowing nervously as he peels them away. You can feel the arousal on the material when it parts from you.

“Fuck, you’re so wet…”

“Of course, she is,” Haechan kisses your neck. “She’s a slutty little bunny. Ain’t that right?”

He nudges you and you nod quickly.

One of his hands cups your breast while the other pulls your dress up, holding it against your stomach so no obstacles are left for Jaemin.

“You sure you want this?” Jaemin asks. You appreciate his sentiment but you’re too desperate for his niceties.

“Yes, please…just touch me!”

A filthy grin finds its way to his face before he dips his head and attaches his lips to your pussy.

“Ah!” you whimper.

Your back presses into Haechan as it arches and your ass grinds against his cock while you rock your hips back and forth against Jaemin’s face. He grabs your thighs, holding them tight around his neck while he licks and sucks.

He drags his teeth over your clit gently, causing you to cry out from the feeling. And then he rubs his tongue up and down, electrifying your entire body.

You feel your orgasm approaching when he shoves two fingers into your pussy with ease. You’re so fucking wet and he spreads you open while tasting your sweet essence.

Pleasure hits you, blinding your senses and your body trembles in Haechan’s embrace. You’re gasping and crying, begging for Jaemin to not stop and finally your hips stop moving.

You collapse onto Haechan and catch your breath. Upon opening your eyes, you see them all staring at you with mouths wide open.

“You sound so pretty…” Renjun mutters.

Some of them stroke their boners over their slacks, others watch quietly, waiting for the next move.

“My turn.” Haechan flips you onto the couch. Your shoulders meet the cushions while your ass bends upwards. You shuffle into a more comfortable version while Haechan rips off his belt and pulls out his cock.

He hisses when he strokes it a few times.

“God, you’re so hot…” he whispers. “Gonna fuck you so good.”

You moan into the cushions while he prods your entrance.

“Wait,” Jeno calls.

“The fuck do you want?”

You turn your head to see Mr. Wolf reaching into his pocket and making his way to you. He talks directly to you, ignoring Haechan completely.

“Now’s a good time to tell you about the little gift Shotaro bought you.”

He reveals a fluffy white ball. You’re not sure of its purpose at first until you see the rounded metal hidden beneath all the fur.

Your eyes widen in shock.

“Shotaro got me that?!”

“He pussied out last minute and gave it to me instead. But it was meant for you.”

“Why the hell would he give it to you?” Renjun asks and Jeno shrugs while the others laugh.

You swallow grimly, eyes not leaving the toy.

“How about we give our bunny a tail?” Haechan grins.

His voice is so sickeningly annoying but you can’t get enough of it.

“What do you say?”

You purse your lips in thought.

Did Taro really get you that?

What did he mean by it?

Does he… want to have sex with you? Or was it only meant to as an accessory to your costume?

You don’t have time to think about it and you brush the notions away quickly with a nod.

“Bunny wants a tail.” You whine cutely, pouting your lips as you look up at him.

You hear one of them groan and Haechan grabs handfuls of your ass, spreading your cheeks and spitting between them. His fingers rub gently, spreading his spit.

Meanwhile, Jeno bends down to your level.

“Open wide.”

You part your lips and stick out your tongue, letting the saliva dribble. He rubs the metal part of the ball up and down, coating it in saliva before ordering you to suck on it. Whispers of curses fill the room as you make the most needy face you can while sucking on the toy.

“Good girl,” Jeno strokes your hair, tickling your scalp with his fingers.

The plug pops from your mouth Haechan holds you open while Jeno slips it in your ass.

“Relax, baby,” he rubs your body to ease. “There we go. Almost there.”

He teases it in and out of your hole until you’re ready to take it fully and then he pushes it in. You whine from the sensation but the feeling of being filled is incredible. You shake your ass teasingly and both of them grab it, leaving a red mark from a slap.

Haechan wastes no time in fucking you. He pushes into your pussy, guiding your hips onto him with eagerness. His cock spreads you open and he stutters vocally.

“Ah, you’re so fucking tight…”

You whine in response and push your hips back and forth with him, allowing him to dive in deeper. Your walls wrap around him and he stills for a moment when he’s fully situated.

“Fuck, Haechan!” you cry. “Feels so good.”

“Baby, I’m not even doing anything.” He chuckles and the others laugh with him. “You’re such a little bunnywhore, ain’t ya? So desperate for my cock.”

“Yes!” you cry out. “Please, Haechan, want you to fuck me so good.”

“What was that? I don’t think the others heard you.”

“Please! Fuck me real good, Haechan. Wanna be fucked like a little whore!”

He drags his cock out slowly before slamming back in.

“What a slutty little bunny.”

You moan into the cushions, not caring if they become covered with your drool and makeup. You can only feel Haechan’s cock driving in and out of you and the heated gaze of everyone else on the two of your bodies.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum already.” Haechan says and you clench around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He thrusts a few more times before pulling out and jerking his cock over your ass. His hot cum hits you in spurts and you wiggle your hips side to side while he groans and empties his load on you.

“Fucking perfect…” he whispers and falls onto the couch.

“Who’s next?” Jeno asks.

You rise up on trembling arms and all of them are silent, but expectant. You crawl over to the one closest to you, Renjun.

He seems nervous, swallowing loudly when you touch him.

“Renjun…?”

“You… you don’t have to YN.”

“But I want to.”

You kiss his ears, his neck, his lips. Your hands sneak under his blazer and trace his hard body over his shirt. He nods shyly.

“What do you want me to do?” you ask softly.

“You…” he gasps and throws his head back when you squeeze his cock. “Your mouth. Use your mouth.”

You fall to the floor immediately, held warmly between his legs and he helps you remove his cock from his boxers and pants.

You stroke him gently, feeling him harden even more.

An experimental lick swipes its way up his cock and you eye him, watching him unravel from the warmth of your tongue. When you reach the tip, you take him past your lips. Little by little, teasing him and admiring the way his chest rises and falls rapidly.

You make sure to stick out your ass for the others while you suck Renjun’s cock and in no time, his cock hits the back of your throat from his hips thrusting up.

“God, YN!” he moans.

You suck tighter, bob your head faster and when you see his fists tightening by his side, you remove him from your mouth completely.

“Ah!” he gasps loudly. He reaches for his cock to reach his high but you hold them back. “YN, please!”

“Don’t you want to cum inside your little bunny?” you whisper.

He stares at you, mesmerised.

“Renjunnie… cum inside me… please?””

He nods gently.

“Are you sure it’s okay?”

You bite your lips, telling him that it’s more than fine. You want nothing more than to be filled up with him, with all of them.

To your side, YangYang has his cock out, stroking it up and down while his head rests on the back of the couch watching you. Haechan is still blissed out but watching intensely and the other two sit quietly, waiting for you to finish with their friend.

You climb onto his lap, a thigh on either side and press your lips to his while sinking down in his cock. He moans into your mouth and you mix them with your own. He holds you nervously, unsure where to touch you as you rock back and forth on his cock.

His fingers dig into your side and you reach a hand between your bodies, meeting with your needy clit. You rub circles, causing you to clench around his cock and the feeling of his cum spurting into you tosses you over the edge.

You bounce quickly, not wanting to slow down the orgasm anymore and allow yourself to be taken over with another. All the while, Renjun moans and moans until he’s fully spent inside of you.

You feel your ass clenching around the tail and you feel so full being stuffed again and again.

Renjun is on the border of passing out and you jump from him.

YangYang reaches his arm out to grab you but you find it entertaining to tease him and you slip from his grasp, making your way to Jaemin and Jeno.

“Hey, bunny,” Jeno smiles.

You smile sweetly, wobbling on your weak legs and he pulls you into his lap.

“How about we take her together?” he asks Jaemin.

“Sounds good to me.”

He lifts you with ease and lays you gently on the couch they were sitting on. He gives your tail a little tug, causing you to yelp but you all giggle together after.

“Has anyone ever told you how cute you are tonight?” Jaemins strokes your cheeks.

You shake your head, melting into his touch.

“Hm, we could tell her,” Jeno suggests. “Or we could show her.”

You whine, feeling your pussy flutter with excitement as if it hadn’t already had enough.

“I think she wants us to show her.” Jaemin smiles and you feel yourself drift to cloud nine when they both look down at you between them.

Jeno places himself between your legs, pressing a long kiss to your ankles before placing them on his shoulder. Jaemin, on the other hand, unbuckles his belt and pulls out his cock. He lets it hang freely, waiting for you to grab it.

A groan escapes him and his knees tremble when you begin stroking. You pull him closer, letting your tongue taste his precum.

“Ah! Fuck, bunny. You’re such a good girl.”

You squeal when you feel Jeno pressing his cock into your sopping hole. Your pussy flutters around him as he pushes his way in. You’re so overwhelmed yet you keep wanting more.

You take all of Jaemin into your mouth, moving your head as much as you could in this position and Jeno thrusts deeper, slow and hard.

You moan around Jaemin’s cock, vibrations running through his body and when he can’t take it anymore, he grabs a handful of your hair before thrusting into your mouth.

His cock hits the back of your throat, bringing tears to your eyes but you blink them away, not wanting to distort the image of the two men using you like their personal fleshtoy.

Fuck, you feel so hot.

Your core is so tense and you can feel every ridge of Jeno’s cock in your pussy. He slams harder, faster, pace picking up and rhythm growing messy. He’s close.

“Fuck!” you mumble around Jaemin’s cock.

They both groan, griping onto anything they can and you’re about to cum all over Jeno’s cock when he pulls out. You whine but he uses his fist to empty his load all over your pussy.

Your muscles twitch endlessly and Jaemin pulls out of your mouth only to push Jeno out of the way and replace him inside of you.

“Fuck, you’re so dirty,” he groans. “But so fucking cute.”

He thrusts into you and you let your entire body relax in his hold. His arms wrap around your waist and he kisses the exposed skin of your chest and neck, using his hands to grope your tits.

Your walls flutter around him and you feel the sting of pleasure once again.

“Harder!” you cry.

He heeds your demand and fucks you relentlessly, letting his cum spill freely in your pussy.

“Oh my god!”

You cum together and everyone groans with you. Your head digs into the couch and your hips rise up to meet Jaemin’s until he holds you both still together, brushing your hair away from your sweaty face.

He shushes you and guides your breathing until you’ve come down from your high once more.

Then he takes your hand and lifts you into an upright position, placing a gentle kiss on you’re forehead.

“Did so well, bunny. You okay?” he asks gently.

You nod, slowly and completely exhausted.

Everyone has collapsed onto their backs, letting the couches swallow them whole.

It must have been quite the show.

For all but one.

“Got one more for me?” YangYang smirks.

You crawl over to him, collapsing on his lap with your thighs on either side. His cock is already out and he’s lining it up with your entrance immediately.

He leaves a small kiss in the crook of your neck before sinking you down on his cock.

You rest your head on his shoulder while he lifts your hips up and down on his lap.

“Oh, my god!” he groans. “Waited so fucking long but it was worth it.”

You don’t register how fast he’s slamming you on his cock, nor how hard his fingers dig into your flesh but you use whatever energy still existing in your body to move your thighs.

“That’s right, bunny. Show me how good you can bounce.”

His words spur you on and the raspiness in his voice elates your heartbeat despite it being impossible to beat any faster.

You feel yourself clench one more time and you spill all of your juices onto him. It’s too much, you can’t hold anything back despite having nothing left to give.

“Fuck, she’s squirting!”

YangYang lifts his hips up when he brings you down on him and you feel him reaching even deeper.

“Ah!” you cry. “Too much!”

“Finally had enough?” he growls into your ear.

You nod desperately.

“Can’t take my cock anymore?”

“It’s too good!”

“Fuck, do you want me to stop or not?”

“No! Don’t stop! Please, don’t stop!”

YangYang thrusts harder and he bites into your shoulder. You’re amazed at how your dress was able to stay on this whole time but it slips down further and further, not exposing your chest fully but showing just enough of your tits to drive them all crazy.

One look at them bouncing is enough make YangYang lose all of his control.

“Ah! I’m cumming!” you cry, letting one more, and hopefully the last, orgasm wash over you.

“Fuck! Me too!”

His hips tremor when he pushes himself balls deep in you. They remain flush against your pussy until you feel his cum stop pouring out.

And when he pulls out, his cum drips out of your pussy and back onto his softening cock.

They all groan as you fall to the side, spreading your legs to show them how all of their cum decorates your body.

You’re so fucking messy, sweaty and covered in cum but you don’t care.

All of you sit quietly for a while, not a word spared between you until you’ve caught your breath and attempt to sit upright.

Jaemin and YangYang aid you and help you stand on wobbling legs.

“Are you okay?”

“I think so…” you gasp as you feel the cum dribble down your legs.

“That was fucking amazing…” Haechan says.

And the others agree with him. Renjun just hums in his blissed out state while YangYang strokes your thighs from behind.

“You were amazing. How did you even handle all of that?”

“Because she’s such a good bunny.” Jeno teased but leaves a sweet kiss on your cheek, and Jaemin beings you some tissues and helps you start wiping yourself.

Only now do they remove their masks and it feels refreshing to finally see their handsome faces.

Your entire body trembles gently while they take care of you, making sure to compliment you at any second they get. But a loud click catches everyone’s attention and your body jolts when the door opens.

Terrified of being caught, you grab onto Jaemin and pull him in front of you, but you freeze upon seeing who entered the room.

“Shotaro…” you gasp and pull down your dress as if it would hide the fact that you just fucked all of his friends.

“YN?”

He looks somewhat disheartened as he walks deeper into the room. Music still beats through the walls and your heart hammers with it.

As he gets closer, you see his eyes swim with emotion. And to your surprise, his entire demeanour changes from his usual softness to something dark and dominating. You’ve never seen him like this before but the numbness in your body slowly fades, replacing itself with excitement.

The room is silent as he guides your chin upwards to look him in the eyes.

His warm fingers caress your cheeks and as he stares deep into your soul, his hands slide down to your hips, pulling you so close to him that you can’t escape.

“Looks like someone’s been a bad bunny.”

#✧ jella writes #✧ jella's fics #nct x reader #nct 00 line smut #nct smut #haechan x reader #nct jaemin x reader #nct jeno x reader #nct renjun x reader #yangyang x reader #shotaro x reader #haechan smut #nct jaemin smut #jeno smut #renjun smut #yangyang smut #underworldnet halloween writing event

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txtmetonight · 1 month

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For Him ✆

call summary ⋆ ★ Chan is quite puzzling. But you're determined to break his walls.

pairing *. * Bang Chan x Fem! Reader

genre⋆ ★ Fluff, Harry Potter AU

warnings *. Crude language (just one word lol)

call duration⋆ ★ 1.4k

a/n*. * I'm back in my hp phases lol and while I'm doing that, I'm pushing my chan wolf agenda yay

You suppose you’ve always known about Chan’s mysterious life. And then again, you suppose you always loved him since you were eleven, just as you placed your eyes on him onto the Hogwarts Express. But he is a tricky person to figure out and someone who doesn’t want to be broken down into pieces and given to another to be investigated upon.

Yet he still lets you do so in the very manner as you sit next to him with a full glory on your lips.

You used to wonder why you were the only one that he would let get close, but now as you stare at him with big eyes that hold much adoration, you’ve come to realize how grateful you are.

Chan is puzzling but god he’s a sweetheart when it comes down to it, always a gentleman and always with gentle love beating in his heart for anyone and everyone. Though he reckons that his organ is a little more honeyed for you though, not that he would ever admit it.

For he lives in the shadows of his past and present, and through a fear that he believes in will conjure into reality. And so, he hides a part of himself from you. You despise it very much from the bottom of your heart. You really do. You want to be his but he’s holding himself back and it leaves a bitter taste on your tongue.

The first time you chipped away a little deeper than he wanted to show, was when you were fed up with the white lies that slipped through his teeth.

When he excused his absences for something so abnormal you thought he was mental almost. Every once a month he left you alone with your thoughts over something so trivial or something extreme–just an explanation that made your head spin. So, you had the bright idea to follow him.

Everyone knows of the curfew set in place every night, yet he seemed to have a justification for doing so…why?

Your footsteps were quiet when against the floor and you held your breath, hiding amongst the dark and following the footsteps in the moonlight that shone brightly. It was a full moon.

You’ve known the castle like it was the back of your hand, 3 years since coming and the footsteps you’ve marked were etched in the back of your mind. And you very quickly realized where Chan was going–to the whomping willow. Your lips shivered to cry out to him, to ask him what he was doing but you clap your hands over your mouth when he starts to violently shake against the wind. He collapses. And the clouds reveal the luminous light in the sky.

Before your eyes, his hair shrinks back into his skull, and his body changes. You both see the same things, yet he feels it with pure disgust and embarrassment when his bones grow and rip underneath his skin.

But your perception is different because when he looks into the reflection of the deepest lake and sees a monster staring back at him, you see Chan. Not just a werewolf, but Chan, your lover. And you know that for sure when your nerves tingle with endearment as you stare at him in awe. He’s quite magnificent, you can note when he turns back to escape into the woods.

The second time you cracked it even more was 2 years later when O.W.L’s took over your brain, alongside Chan. Every single night, since that fateful day, you’ve found yourself stalking over the gardens to watch him on the full moon.

But you don’t dare to tell him that; you want him to feel like he has the right to tell you when he has gotten over his fear. Then so, you’ve trained yourself to go blind-eyed every moment except for that night. You suppose you could be selfish.

Chan is lonely. He carries a deep burden in his heart, and it aches to be released, not on its own but in the hands of another where they can sing a lullaby to soothe the pain. And you knew that it was going to be in front of you, but it left a sense of a hole in your heart when you saw him cry. You still sing to him, though.

“Hey Channie, what’s wrong?” You ask, wiping away the peals that streak down his cheeks. His face is flushed red, and he sniffles miserably. He doesn’t say anything, so you move in a little closer to place your hand over his heart, lips just ghosting over fingers at where it lies.

“I feel like, there’s something wrong with me.”

You look up to look at him, but he’s already staring at you with deep fondness in your eyes, you think that you’re going to tear up too. But you don’t. You question instead. “And why is that pretty boy?”

“Oh, I wish you would stop calling me that” He weakly chuckles. “But…I dunno why. I just–just know that there is something wrong with me. Like definite, for sure. And I hate it. It hurts, I suppose. I think it’s puncturing my brain.”

Chan sobs the last word before you grab his jaw and pull him, so your forehead gently tapped against his. Both pairs of eyes close and you realize how much your love runs deep for him. Again, where he feels nothing is where you’re encased in everything for him. For him.

The 3rd time is now, just after a year. You think. You hope his stone wall will shatter soon to let you in.

When the night is young, and the moon rises, you watch with curious intent as Chan drinks out of a gauntlet and shivers with grimace before the potion's professor with great urgency pushes him towards the hills that envelop around the school.

You follow him and it brings you great Deja vu that wraps around your stomach. Yet this time, rather than just breaking the mere school rules, you’re breaking the law by becoming an unregistered Animagus. Perhaps you’re a dunderhead, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You want to keep him company.

When the willow ceases its chaos, you slip past the hole near the trunk. Howls and whimpers echo but you don’t pay any attention. The shrieking shack is known for its ghostly activities but not for the true trauma that happens within the wooden boards. How Chan is in great pain because he is in love with someone whom he can’t have. Just because of himself and who he truly is; a bloodthirsty creature.

Yet he’s truly Chan when you strut your way into the broken-down living room, It’s truly Chan when he doesn’t attack you, and he growls against the moonlight. And it truly Chan when nudges you with his nose for a sense of doting that he craves.

You give it to him and lie on the floor, where he joins you. Your ear is near his pulse, and you feel it thrum alive against you, beating harder and harder. The thick wall is about to crumble, you reckon.

When it comes time for dawn to rise, Chan is Chan again, so you painfully twist back into who you are. Where the hardwood floor lies, instead is your boy, who scoops you on top of him. His eyes are glistening with tears and his lips quiver. Your fingers begin to tangle themselves into curls, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. Neither of you have tried to get up yet.

“How long have you known?”

“Since 3rd year. You’re very handsome has anyone told you that?”

He turns pink but shakes his head no. You kiss him once more.

“Turning into an animagus…why would you do that for me. Go through all the trouble. You don’t have to.” He speaks. He starts to cry now.

As for his question, you decide that you don’t have anything else to offer but the truth. “I love you, Channie.”

He scoffs, “Am I not a monster? I could tear you…you apart if I got too out of control. I’m sick in the head and outside of it, do you not understand? You deserve better.”

You tug at his hair which results in a wince, but you move up closer to his lips, just where they hover above them. His breathing stills and he thinks that you’re a complete stunner in his eyes. You think the same if not more.

“And who is to say that except for myself. You’re not a monster, you’re just Chan who can’t eat spicy food. And I’m (Y/n) who’s been in love with you since the very fucking beginning.”

And then you kiss him hard, expressing unsaid emotions into that kiss, starting to tear up when he reciprocates, his fingers gripping your waist making you feel dizzy. When you two pull apart, Chan chuckles as he wipes away a stray tear.

“You’re so beautiful it hurts me. I love you too.”

You’ve completely broken in.

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 months

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Napoleonville [Chapter 1: The Fall-Down House]

Series Summary: The year is 1988. The town is Napoleonville, Louisiana. You are a small business owner in need of some stress relief. Aemond is a stranger with a taste for domination. But as his secrets are revealed, this casual arrangement becomes something more volatile than either of you could have ever imagined.

Chapter Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), dom/sub dynamics, alligators, kids, parenthood, smoking, cupcakes!

Word Count: 7.2k (she's very chonky for a first chapter).

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Since this is the first chapter of a new series, I'm going to tag a bunch of usual readers, but I won't tag you again unless you want me to. 💜

@persephonerinyes @tinykryptonitewerewolf @daenysx @babyblue711 @arcielee @bhanclegane @jvpit3rs @padfooteyes @marvelescvpe @travelingmypassion @darkenchantress @yeahright0h @poohxlove @trifoliumviridi @bloodyflowerrr @fan-goddess @devynsficrecs @flowerpotmage @thelittleswanao3 @seabasscevans @hiraethrhapsody @libroparaiso @st-eve-barnes @chattylurker @vagharnaur @moonlightfoxx @heliosscribbles @beautifulsweetschaos @namelesslosers @partnerincrime0 @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @marbles-posts @maidmerrymint @backyardfolklore @dd122004dd @jetblack4real @joliettes @mariahossain @minttea07 @please-buckme @florent1s @tempt-ress @wintersire @w3ird11 @eltherevir @florent1s @maii777

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged! 🥰🧁

“What do you want to do to me?” you whisper through the phone, stretched out across your bed like a cat as George Michael’s Faith plays from the baby pink Panasonic boombox out in the kitchen. It’s late afternoon, and fading daylight falls in tiger stripes through the window blinds. The May air is hot, muggy, golden; cicadas hum in the southern live oaks, an ancient earthen music like rattling bones.

A few seconds pass before he can reply. It was a bold way to begin. You are admittedly a little impressed with yourself; an idea like this has been pacing around in your skull like a beast behind bars for years, but you’ve only now set it loose. “That’s difficult to explain in words,” he says; and in the low, teasing purr of his voice you can hear that your gamble paid off like striking oil. He has a British accent, which you never would have expected. You only recognize it from clips you’ve seen of Prince Charles and Princess Diana on 60 Minutes. “But I’d enjoy showing you.”

It’s laid open beside you on the bed, his personal ad in the Bayou Journal: Educated white male in his mid-20s. Single and not looking to change that. Seeking an open-minded, adventurous, and spirited lady for short-term D/s arrangement. Be prepared to answer the following riddle: I’m small but loom large, I’m Italian but French, I give away much to gain little. Who am I? Best regards, An Indecent Gentleman. “I’m waiting.”

“You understand what is meant by D/s?”

“Of course,” you say, your best feigned flippantness. You only know because Amir told you; he’s been daring you to call for three days.

“Thank God,” the man on the other end of the line sighs. There is an inhale like a drag on a cigarette. You imagine what he might look like: broad or slight, dark-haired or blonde, striking or average or homely, treacherous or safe, forbidden fruit or just plain forbidden. “I’ve had four different women ring me thinking I’m going to be their boyfriend, dinner and flowers and everything. They’re functionally illiterate down here.”

How unfortunate, you think. He’s highfalutin. But alas, no one is perfect. That’s no prohibitive obstacle. He doesn’t need to be faultless; it’s not as if you’re planning to marry the guy. “I like when someone else is in control.”

“Why?” This is a test, you can feel it. You can sense his rapt attention across the wire, through the electricity and the lush treetops and the rust-amber sky.

“I have a lot of…responsibilities in my real life,” you explain. “A lot of pressure. I make the decisions, I look out for other people. Sometimes I want to be the one who’s told what to do.”

“I can make that happen. And the riddle?”

“It’s Napoleon.”

The grin is sharp and triumphant in his voice. “Good girl.”

“He was short but an emperor. He was born in Corsica to an Italian family, but he ended up ruling over France. He sold off a bunch of French colonies to focus on conquering Europe and still couldn’t quite manage it. But the U.S.A. got this charming little corner of the world as part of the bargain.”

“You’re a historian,” the man says, sounding pleased.

“No sir, we all had to learn about him in school whether we wanted to or not.”

“Sir,” he echoes, tasting it, savoring it. You imagine a pink tongue flicking out to skate across his lips. Then he is abruptly cool, impersonal, businesslike. “Listen, I’ve got a scar down the left side of my face. It’s thin, it’s clean, but it’s noticeable. The eye is glass, although you can’t really tell unless you look closely. Is that a problem?”

A scar? Is he a veteran? A lion tamer? A motorcycle enthusiast? You try to remember what kinds of hobbies British people have. Isn’t there some kind of sport where men swing sticks around while riding horses? That sounds like it could put an eye out. Perhaps to your own surprise, you find that you are more intrigued than uneasy. Oh, you realize, dull like dawn through mist. I like him. I want him. Not just THIS, but HIM. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Brilliant. I don’t want to talk about it again.”

“That’s fine.” You hesitate. “There’s actually something I should tell you too.”

“Hm?”

The hum of his voice is arrogant, hungry. You try not to get distracted. Blood rushes hot and ashamed into your cheeks. “Um, well, uh, sometimes it’s difficult for me to…you know. Finish. Not when I’m alone, just when I’m with a guy. Especially if I’m anxious. And I don’t want to feel worried about faking it or making sure it happens or dealing with you getting offended or upset or whatever. Because it’s fine, really. It doesn’t mean I’m not having a good time. I’m just…stuck in my own head.”

There is a sound you can’t quite match to an expression, an exhale, a scoff. “Obviously I wouldn’t be mad at you. But you’ll come. I know you will. I’ll make you.”

And you’re flooded with a relief that you never dared to hope for. A confession spills out in a trembling whisper: “Please.”

“When?” he says, eager, urgent.

“I think if we don’t do it now, I’ll lose my nerve.”

There is a razor-thin pause, and then he asks for your address.

~~~~~~~~~~

You haven’t had a man in your bed in years; you are abruptly and unkindly reminded of this when you paw through the top drawer of your bedroom dresser and find only practical, deadly unsexy cotton Kmart underwear. You dash to the closet, yank open the squeaking door, and—tucked away in a cardboard box of winter clothes like sweaters and jeans, forgotten, needless—unearth a sprinkling of insubstantial silk and lace, all in luxurious gemstone hues: amethyst, ruby, sapphire, onyx, emerald.

“Oh, hallelujah.” You throw off your sunshine yellow shorts and tug on what were once upon a time your favorite panties. They don’t fit nearly as well as they used to; they fit horribly, in fact. They evaporate the thrill and leave nauseous trepidation in its place. “Oh God. Oh no. Oh no, oh no.” You steal a harried glimpse of the clunky black alarm clock on your nightstand. The flashing red numbers inform you that you have approximately ten more minutes until he arrives.

You jog pantsless to the kitchen, pour yourself a glass of sweet tea—ice cold, bright with a squeeze of lemon juice—and pace back and forth across the wooden floor as you sip it. The pine boards slope at just the slightest angle; if you laid an apple by your feet, it would roll. The house is sinking. It was built at the turn of the twentieth century, but it won’t live to see the next. Ailing sunlight casts your shadow against the wall, mint green, spider-leg cracks inching through the paint. Outside cicadas buzz and doves coo in long, mournful whirrs.

You pick up the phone—pink to match the boombox that is now playing Poison’s Nothin’ But A Good Time—next to the refrigerator and dial with one finger, your other hand still clutching the frosty glass of sweet tea. It rings twice before he answers.

“Wassup?” Amir says distractedly. You can hear a commotion from his living room on the other side of town: his grandmother squawking, ambient applause, Wheel Of Fortune.

“Quick, what should I wear?”

“Huh?”

“The guy! The guy from the ad! I called the guy! What should I be wearing when he shows up?”

Amir cackles. “Ho, you must be truly desperate, why the fuck are you asking me?” There is some shrill protestation in the background. “Grandma, don’t you dare try to act like you’ve never heard that word before, we just rented Aliens.”

“You know what men like,” you plead.

“Not the straight ones!” And then, not to you: “Grandma, calm down. Grandma, Grandma! It’s my homegirl. She has an emergency. She’s got a man coming over and she doesn’t know what to wear. What did you wear for Pop Pop? What? What?! You expect me to believe you got seven kids out of that dude with just some old floral nightgown?! Prairie girl fabulous? Looking like you’re on your way to join the Donner Party? Okay, if you say so! Phyllis knows best!” Amir’s attention returns to you. “Grandma suggests a nightgown.”

You are skeptical. “That seems slutty.”

“You’re inviting some stranger over for an all-expenses-paid ride on the Pussy Express and you’re concerned about looking slutty?!”

He has a point. “Okay. Okay. Yeah. You’re right. Okay.”

“You wear that nightgown with confidence and you take that random kinky man directly to bed, do you understand me?” Amir orders.

“Totally,” you say, gulping sweet tea with a shaking hand.

“Good luck. I gotta go, it’s the Bonus Round. Hope you have a few rounds to tell me about tomorrow.” Then he hangs up.

Back in your bedroom closet, you find a black satin slip that runs to your ankles and flows like a ballgown. You put it on some nights when you’re feeling desirable, after a bath of bubbles and steam, candles and Madonna, freshly shaved legs and shimmering with Pond’s, when you want to lounge around daydreaming, when you want to remember the fantasies you once had about what your life might turn out to be. Now you wear it in the fading daylight, nothing underneath and golden sunbeams turning your skin to something that warms and glows.

You appraise yourself in your dusty dresser mirror, and you think: Not too bad, actually. You’ve had your hair up in a haphazard bun. You reach to take it down, then stop yourself. You like the wayward wisps, the I-don’t-care-too-much casualness. Your breathing is slow and calm again. There is a noise outside: tires crunching on gravel. Your glass of sweet tea, now mostly just ice cubes, is sweating on top of your dresser. You grab the glass, swipe the Bayou Journal off your bed, and take both to the kitchen counter, still speckled with flour, powdered sugar, flecks of cinnamon. Then you pad across the sloping wooden floor in your bare feet to open the front door. Amber dusk streams in; you can hear bullfrogs croaking and the hoots of the long-eared owl that lives in the collapsing, overgrown shed behind the house. Spanish moss hangs like cobwebs, like chandeliers. The tree swing rocks idly in the breeze. The first notes of You Shook Me All Night Long play from the kitchen boombox.

His car is red, sporty, with a logo on the grill that you don’t recognize, a series of circles intertwined like rings. He cuts the engine and steps out into the driveway as you watch from behind the screen, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed over your chest. He’s tall, trim, blonde, wearing Adidas sneakers and light-wash jeans and a Marlboro jacket that it’s far too hot for. He peers around, taking in the trees and the house through his black aviator sunglasses. He puffs one last time on a cigarette before putting it out on his own windshield and starting towards the porch. And immediately, primally, you crave him like water or air.

He climbs the groaning steps, splitting wood and rusty nails. You open the screen door to meet him in the threshold. And he takes off his sunglasses so he can look at you, stowing them in a pocket of his jacket, his gaze not wavering from yours, his lips not saying a word. Yes, he has a scar, but it doesn’t diminish him in the slightest. Yes, his left eye may be glass, but you wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t already told you. You’re too tangled up in the right. His iris is a brisk greyish blue, not like the ocean, not like the bayou, more like the sky before a hurricane, heavy with the threat of wind and rain. His face is strong, jarring, beautiful in a rare way. His full lips are curling into a grin.

At last, you speak first, an inane observation that feels somehow significant. “You found me.”

“I did.” He nods towards the large lavender sign out by the mouth of the gravel driveway. Hand-painted on it are the words Hummingbird Bakery and a logo that Amir designed, a hummingbird feeding on the frosting swirl of a cupcake as if it’s a flower flush with nectar. “You told me to look for the sign. That helped.”

“What kind of car do you drive? I don’t recognize it.”

“It’s an Audi Quattro.”

“Audi,” you repeat, like a hopelessly distant place, New York City or Los Angeles or Paris or the moon. “Is that British?”

“German, actually.”

“You’re from a very different world.”

“Yeah, I am.” His eye flicks up and down your body, black satin that curves and clings; his grin widens. “But I could learn to like yours, I think.”

You step back so he can follow you inside. The screen door shuts with a bang. Under the shadows, as the sun sets into the west, he unzips his Marlboro jacket and tosses it onto your living room couch. Underneath he wears a white t-shirt. We’re opposites, you think dazedly, wondering what he will taste like when he kisses you. He grazes his fingertips down the front of your throat, continues to your chest, stills when he hits the satin of your slip.

“You can tell me to stop whenever you want to,” he murmurs, and you breathe in his smoke and cologne and dauntless, dizzying self-assurance. “But until you say stop, I’m gonna keep going.”

Your heartbeat is drumming beneath his hand, part exhilaration and the rest nerves. You are afraid of disappointing him; you aren’t sure what to expect. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Aemond.”

Aemond. Foreign, like Audi, like Paris. You give him your own in return. He leans in, presses his hips to yours, denim and satin that you can feel his heat through. And you think he’s going to kiss your neck, or bite it, bruise it, mark it, claim it, claim you; but he only ghosts his parted lips from the edge of your jaw to your bare shoulder, inhaling slow and deep, drawing your atoms into his lungs until they tumble down the narrowest corridors and into his capillary beds, into his bloodstream. You moan softly, helplessly, and turn your face to kiss him.

“No,” Aemond growls, teasing you, catching your chin with one hand to hold you still. His other hand glides down the front of your slip and stops between your legs. Through satin the color of a starless midnight, his fingers stroke you roughly, commandingly. Animalistic yearning bolts low to weaken your knees, high to rip a gasp from your throat. “Nothing underneath,” he notes in approval.

Oh, I like him, you think, in equal parts ecstatic and petrified. I REALLY like him.

But are you going to be able to impress him too? Are you going to ruin this?

You whimper, unintentionally and almost inaudibly. Aemond is studying your face; furrows appear in his scarred brow, so faint and fleeting you might have imagined them. Then his hand retreats as he says: “Show me your toys.”

You gape up at him; this is not what you anticipated. “What?”

“I want to see how you make yourself come. You have toys, don’t you?”

“I do,” you admit, though you’ve never used them with anyone else before.

Aemond smirks mischieviously, then commands: “Show me. Right now.”

You lead him to your bedroom and slide open the middle drawer of your dresser. You glance at his reflection in the silvery glass of the mirror; he’s staring, not at your body but at your face, his gaze locked with yours, his mouth open, entranced, hungry. You move to stand against the wall, smiling sheepishly as Aemond shoves aside folded sheets and pillowcases to reveal your collection. It’s nothing too adventurous: five vibrators in different colors, styles, sizes.

“Quite the assortment,” he praises.

“They were gifts from a friend.”

Now Aemond is dubious. “A friend?”

“Don’t be jealous. He doesn’t like women.”

Aemond laughs, warm and boyish like he’s breaking character; and you are alarmed by the wave of fondness for him that crashes through you. It’s something that could pull you under. It’s something you could drown in. He picks up the largest vibrator: long, thick, pink like soft feminine vulnerability, like love. Then he is darkly, deliciously stern again. “On the bed.”

“No.” Not because you’re genuinely protesting. Because you want him to make you.

Aemond grabs you around your waist and drags you towards the bed as you squeal, giggle, fight him halfheartedly. He throws you down onto the wildflower-patterned duvet and climbs between your thighs, parting them as he pushes the hem of your black satin slip up to your waist. Abruptly, you are bare for him, exposed, fiery dusk air cool against your wetness. Aemond is still fully clothed, white shirt and pale blue jeans. He is holding your legs open with his own. You can see the bulge of his cock beneath the denim: at least as large as the vibrator and hard with insistent longing.

I want him, you think as you hear the vibrator click on. I want him, I want him…

Aemond brings the pink silicone tip to your flesh, and instantly you’re ravenous. It shocks you how much more erotic this is when someone else is holding it, when someone else has you entirely at their mercy. You cry out, loud and shameless, euphoric. Your back arches; your fingers twist into the duvet. As he presses the vibrator down more forcefully, Aemond braces his hips against yours, grinding into you through his jeans, taunting you, conquering you.

You fumble for the button and zipper of his jeans. “Please—”

“No,” Aemond snarls, beaming, snatching your hand and pinning it up by your head. His other hand is still circling your clit with the tip of the vibrator. “You haven’t earned it yet.”

“Aemond, please, I need you—”

“No,” he says, defiant. He makes the rules. He has the power; he’s in control. Suddenly, he pulls the vibrator away. You yelp in dismay. “You know,” Aemond quips cavalierly. “It’s a shame you have such a difficult time finishing when you’re with a man. I bet you’re not even close.”

“I am,” you whine, in agony, in ecstasy.

Aemond pretends to be surprised. “Hm.” He returns the vibrator to your skin, slick, hot, aching in the most wondrous way. You sigh as the pleasure surges through you, as you soar up to the previous plateau and then begin to ascend beyond it. You must have repositioned yourself without noticing; Aemond releases your hand to smack his palm against the inside of your thigh. “Keep your legs apart. I want you wide open for me.”

“I will, I promise.” I’ll do anything you tell me to.

Aemond’s hand ventures lower. Two of his fingers glide inside you and thrust in time with his hips. “Fuck,” he hisses, breaking character again; and something rocks through his shoulders, his spine, a divine temptation that he is battling.

“Aemond, more,” you plead, looking at the massive outline of his cock under his jeans.

“Not yet,” he pants, fucking you with his fingers as the vibrator hums against your clit. “You have to come for me first, baby. You have to earn it.”

And you’re close, you really are, you’re closer than you ever would have imagined you’d be with him tonight, this stranger, this elusive British man, this man from a personal ad in the Bayou Journal that you almost never replied to. Your hair has come undone and is wild around your face; your heart is pounding frantically; your skin is bathed in a sheen of victorious perspiration. When was the last time someone made you feel like this? You can’t recall; the answer might be never. There is a spellbinding, intensifying sensation of warmth, of opening, you’re only seconds from the brink, you’re ready to step off the precipice and into open blue air the same color as his eyes—

Aemond yanks the vibrator away again, grinning toothily down at you.

“No!” You scrabble for him with shaking hands, pulling yourself up as you reach for the vibrator. Aemond pushes you back onto the bed. Despite your protests, you love the feeling of his weight on top of yours; you love the organic symphony he’s built of, muscle and bone and skill and power. His fingers are still pumping in and out of you, keeping you soaked and throbbing, pinning you to the edge of an orgasm without permitting you to succumb to it.

“It’s going to be so good for you like this, baby,” Aemond insists, low and raspy. He’s reading your face, attentive to every detail, drinking up your desperate body and quivering voice. “I swear I’m not torturing you for no reason. Let me show you. Let me take care of you. When it happens, it’s going to blow your fucking mind. Are you ready?”

“Yes, now, please, do it now,” you whimper as you lie beneath him, open, bare, senseless, vanquished.

Aemond drags his tongue over the tip of the vibrator, moaning with lust as he tastes you. Then he at last presses the pink silicone to your clit once more. In your electrified nerves, in your scalding blood, there are sparks and momentum and currents rushing towards the cataclysmic breaking of a rogue wave. “Nice and slow,” Aemond murmurs. “Let it build.”

Instead of the peak, you reach another plateau, so high and so rapturous you can’t stand it, you can’t fathom climbing any farther. It’s becoming so sharp and intense it’s almost painful. Fresh anxiety flashes in your mind like lightning. The momentum begins to dissipate like dewdrops under the late-morning sun. Oh no, I’m going to lose it, I’m going to disappoint him—

Aemond lifts the vibrator off you again; before you have time to collect yourself enough to speak, to apologize, he’s slipped his fingers out of you and carefully guided the vibrator inside, stretching you, filling you, thrusting rhythmically but not too viciously or too deep. He places his thumbprint on the place where the vibrator was just seconds ago and circles quickly, once, twice, again, and then…

You try not to scream, but you can’t help it, can’t stop it; the climax wrenches out of you indescribable pleasure, vanished fears, awe and relief, twisted muscles and gasping breaths, every electrical impulse of every atom, and each time you believe it’s over it rolls a little farther like an endless summer afternoon. When it’s done—truly done—you aren’t sure exactly how it happens but suddenly you’re sitting upright on the bed and the vibrator is lying forgotten on top of the duvet and Aemond is laughing, kissing you—sweat and nicotine, smoke and salt—and caressing your face with his hands, saying: “You were such a good girl. You did amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

“Okay,” you exhale unsteadily, smiling. You nod to the very noticeable bulge in his jeans. “Your turn.”

“No,” Aemond says primly.

“What?”

“No,” he repeats. “Not today.”

“But…but…why?”

The curl of his lips is crooked and playful. “To prove I’m not just here to get myself off.” He kisses you again, far more tenderly than any random dom from a personal ad should. “You don’t trust me. But maybe next time you will.”

“How could I trust you? I don’t even know you.”

“We’ll have to spend more time together.”

“You seriously aren’t going to fuck me right now? Me? A mostly-naked stranger you met up with exclusively for the purposes of fucking?”

“Are you dissatisfied?”

In truth, no; your pulse is slowing, your thoughts are calm, your lust is satiated, you’re reasonably certain that you’ve sprained no less than four muscles. You feel like the sky after rain: emptied, unburdened, untroubled, at peace. “Not at all.”

“Then you shouldn’t be complaining.”

You reach out to touch Aemond’s unscarred cheek and he smiles. You try to ghost your fingertips over the left side of his face and he flinches away, leaves the bed, takes the vibrator to the bathroom to scrub it with soap and water. “Can I at least pour you a glass of sweet tea or something?” you call after him. “I feel guilty. I feel like I didn’t uphold my end of the bargain.”

“You exceeded all of my expectations,” Aemond says with a strange sort of somberness. “But sweet tea sounds great.”

You take five minutes to clean up and change into real clothes—ratty denim shorts and a red, white, and blue Pepsi t-shirt, chaotic hair, no bra—and then meet Aemond in the kitchen. He’s surveying the large circular table, which is littered with covered cake plates in a hodgepodge of sizes and colors; you found most of them at yard sales and thrift shops. The sun has set and the stars have risen; the kitchen is illuminated by yellow-hued florescent light. Night air flows in through the screens of the open windows. The boombox is currently playing Tiffany’s I Think We’re Alone Now.

“What’s the deal with that?” Aemond asks about the cluttered kitchen table.

“They’re the baked goods. For my bakery.”

“Right,” he says, remembering, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “The sign out front.”

“Would you like anything? Today we had butterscotch chiffon cake, coconut custard cake, blackberry dark chocolate cupcakes, pecan pie, red velvet brownies, lemon blueberry cookies, lavender black tea cookies, chocolate meringue pie, butter pecan muffins…”

“How about those?” He points.

“Oh! Those are banana bread cupcakes. One of my favorites.”

“Banana bread…cupcakes?”

“Here.” You plop one on a plate for Aemond, then go to the refrigerator to pour two tall glasses of sweet tea. “A lot of people put chocolate chips in their banana bread, but I feel like any chocolate really eclipses the banana flavor. It’s so subtle, you know? So what I do instead is cinnamon, honey, cream cheese frosting, and a tiny bit of sea salt mixed into the batter. If you get the ratio just right, there’s this really great blend of saltiness and sweetness, and the banana is still the star of the show. Of course I’ve fucked up plenty of times too and almost given myself dangerously high blood pressure. If I ruin a batch, I’m the one who has to eat it. We can’t let anything go to waste. Our profit margin is thinner than a crescent moon on the best months.”

“Oh my God,” Aemond says. He’s taken a bite and is now gawking at the banana bread cupcake. “You made this?” He gestures to the table. “You made all of this?”

“My best friend Amir runs the business with me, but most of the recipes are mine. My mom used to bake all the time when I was little. Now she has rheumatoid arthritis and has given it up, more or less, but that’s where I learned a lot of what I know. And I try to come up with new ideas each week to add to the rotation.”

“This is exceptional,” Aemond says. His mouth is full of the rest of the cupcake. He washes it down with a few gulps of sweet tea; ice cubes jangle in the misty glass. “This is, like, insanely good. Can I have another one…?” He’s already lifting the cover off the cake plate.

You chuckle. “Yeah, seriously, have as many as you like.”

“How much do you sell them for?”

“The cupcakes are $1, but you don’t have to pay me. You get the unrequited orgasm discount.”

“Just $1 each.” Aemond is incredulous. You aren’t sure what that’s about. He sets the second cupcake down on the table, tugs a black leather wallet out of his jeans pocket, and gives you a $10 bill.

“Aemond, really, you don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to. Take the money. Stop talking about it.”

You smirk up at him. “Is that an order, sir?”

He grabs your jaw with one forceful hand, kisses you roughly, bites your lower lip almost hard enough to draw blood. He tastes like cinnamon, honey, sugar, sex. “Yes,” he says, grinning wickedly. Then his hands drop to unbutton your shorts. The idea of stopping Aemond doesn’t even cross your mind; your desire for him—him specifically—is back, flaring red and primeval and irresistible. “I want you on top of that counter—”

Outside there are footsteps bounding up the front porch, loud on the creaking boards. You tear away from Aemond and hurry to re-button your shorts. What? Already??

You know exactly who it must be.

Well, now I’m definitely never going to see Aemond again.

He’s terrified, he’s wondering whether he should try to jump out of a window. But really, he’s already been spotted; his Audi Quattro is still waiting for him in the gravel driveway. “Please don’t tell me that’s your homicidal armed boyfriend or something.”

“No,” you say. “It’s my daughter.”

“Wait, your…?!”

The door swings open; you hardly ever lock it. Cadi trots in just as you are flipping over the copy of the Bayou Journal on the kitchen counter so Aemond’s personal ad is no longer visible. Instead, what now faces up—dotted with flour, powdered sugar, cinnamon, grease stains of butter—is a column about the rigs opened in Lake Verret. Just what this town needs, you think distractedly. An environmental disaster.

“Mom, whose radical car is that—?” Then Cadi spies Aemond and blinks at him a few times. She is ten years old but thinks she’s your age, short hair, short temper, denim overalls and a t-shirt underneath patterned with multicolored horses.

“This is Aemond,” you explain. He waves awkwardly and then resumes nibbling on his second banana bread cupcake, avoiding her scrutiny. “He’s a friend.”

“But you don’t have any friends,” Cadi replies.

“Watch it, Child Of The Corn. I have friends.”

“You have like one friend.”

“What happened to your sleepover with Mawmaw? I thought you were excited to trick her into watching Hellraiser.”

“Blockbuster didn’t have it. Then Great Aunt Ethel called and said she broke her hip. Mawmaw dropped me off here on her way to the hospital.”

“And she didn’t even think to check with me first, huh?”

“As if you’d have anything better to do.” Cadi races to the refrigerator—careening around a shellshocked Aemond—and heaves open the door. “What’s for dinner?”

“I think we have some Swanson’s meals left. Oh, and spaghetti.”

She narrows her eyes at you. “Who made it?”

“You’re in luck! Not me. Amir.”

“Yay!” Cadi trills, then drags out the pan and begins spooning mounds of spaghetti onto a plate. Aemond looks to you, intrigued.

You say: “I bake, I don’t cook.”

“She really doesn’t,” Cadi concurs.

“Completely different skillset.”

Cadi places a few paper towels over the heaping plate so sauce doesn’t splatter all over the microwave and then sets it to three minutes. As she waits to eat, she wanders over to where the Bayou Journal is lying on the counter and scans the page: Viserys Targaryen, three state-of-the-art oil rigs, Lake Verret, an additional 50 employees hired, Jade Dragon Energy. “Those bastards are going to get their way, I guess.”

You sigh. “Yup.”

Aemond is alarmed. He polishes off the last of his cupcake, frowning as he licks frosting from his lips. “You don’t approve?”

“They’ll blow up the whole town,” Cadi says matter-of-factly.

You smile wanly at Aemond as you sip your sweet tea. “You work for Jade Dragon, right?”

He stares back at you—stunned, perhaps even fearful, a deer flooded with headlights—but doesn’t speak.

“It’s alright. I figured you must. Some smart British guy way out here in Cajun Country? It’s gotta be for a job. Don’t worry. We won’t shoot and skin you or anything. It’s not your fault. You’re just collecting a paycheck, it’s not like you’re running the company.”

“Right.” Aemond grabs a third cupcake and gnaws at it. After a moment he adds: “I have a degree in petroleum engineering. I just moved to Napoleonville last week.”

“I knew it,” you say.

“Boo!” Cadi heckles jokingly. The microwave beeps, then she disappears into her bedroom with her plate of spaghetti. You hear Cadi turn on her little television and flip through the channels until she finds Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Aemond watches her closed door for a few seconds—still processing, you assume—and then turns back to you.

“Her name’s Katie?”

“Cadi. C-a-d-i. It’s short for Arcadia.”

He is impressed. “Greece?”

You titter nervously. You don’t know what he means. “It’s a town up by Shreveport, it’s where Bonnie and Clyde were arrested or killed or something. I’m not sure. Her father picked it.”

“You didn’t have an opinion?”

“Um, I wasn’t really…uh…conscious for a few days after she was born. By the time I was up and around again, he’d already filled out the birth certificate.”

What is that you see flicker across his face like the transient surge of a lightning bug? Curiosity? Apprehension? “I see. And her father is…” Aemond raises a blonde eyebrow, the one his scar cuts through. “On an aircraft carrier somewhere?”

You laugh. “He’s not deployed. We’re divorced, Willis lives about fifteen minutes down the road. It’s amicable.”

“So I don’t need to worry about him showing up on your front porch to murder me with a 2x4 full of nails.”

“No. Although he is the town sheriff.”

Aemond smirks. Is this a challenge or an inconvenience? “Why’d you two split up?”

You shrug, glancing at Cadi’s bedroom door. She is quite aggressive with her television volume; you’re confident she won’t be able to listen in if you keep your voice low. “It’s not that interesting a story.”

“I’m extremely interested.” And he sincerely appears to be, head tilted to the side, eyes fixed on you (though you know the left one sees nothing), thoughts whirling like storm winds.

“Well…we only ever got married because of…” You gesture towards Cadi’s room. Aemond nods, following along. “And I was too young and I didn’t know anything. I didn’t know what I wanted out of a man, I didn’t even know I had the right to set standards to measure a husband by. Willis wasn’t terrible. He didn’t hit me. He just wasn’t really who I wanted.” You chew at your lower lip, peering down at the kitchen counter, drawing circles in the sparse flour dust. “He never even proposed to me. Not properly, I mean. I told him I was pregnant and he said: Well, guess we oughta get married, huh sugar? and then drove me to the Kmart up in Gonzales to pick out a ring.”

“Classy,” Aemond mutters.

“I had to buy it myself, actually. Willis didn’t have enough cash on him. He paid me back later, but still. It wasn’t about the ring. I don’t need gold and diamonds. But I need someone who really sees me and understands me and chooses me, you know? I’ve never felt chosen. And I decided I didn’t want to settle for that. If I ever get married again, I want the whole goddamn thing. The real thing. I want the candles and the flowers and a boombox blasting Heaven Is A Place On Earth. And if that’s not in the cards, I guess I’m not the marrying type.”

“And you’ll make do with occasional visits from your friendly neighborhood dom.”

You grin up at Aemond. “Yeah, exactly.”

“You really hate Jade Dragon?”

“Companies like that…they just use us. Our land, our labor. And then when they decimate the place they pack up and disappear overnight, no pensions, no retirement, no unemployment, no meaningful cleanup, just Thanks for the millions! Bye! and we’re left to live in their filth.”

“That’s a rather cynical perspective,” Aemond says.

“It’s a realistic perspective,” you counter. “In 1965, there was a pipeline explosion in Natchitoches, in ‘79 there was an oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico, in ‘80 a Texaco rig accidentally drilled into a salt mine under Lake Peigneur and destroyed the whole ecosystem. Two weeks ago there was a refinery explosion an hour east of here in Norco. 4,500 people had to be evacuated from their homes. So no, the jobs sound nice, but in my humble estimation they’re not worth dying for.”

Aemond considers you, a look that is not patronizing or combative but not convinced either. And there’s something else too: a caginess, a nervousness.

“And these Jade Dragon people, the Targaryens? They have a history,” you continue. “I read about it in the Bayou Journal. Last year they had an oil spill at an offshore rig near Ketchikan, Alaska. They poured hundreds of thousands of barrels of poison into the ocean and killed a bunch of dolphins and whales and everything. Fishermen went bankrupt, people committed suicide.”

“Mistakes happen.” Aemond places his empty sweet tea glass in the sink.

“But they didn’t make it right. Their lawyers blamed a defective piece of equipment and kicked liability back to the manufacturer. They’ll be battling it out in court for the next decade. And meanwhile, the people of Ketchikan get nothing but misery. I don’t want Napoleonville to end up like that.”

Aemond gazes out the kitchen window and into the cicada-rattling night, faraway, pensive.

“But seriously,” you say, more casually now. “I get that it’s not your fault, Aemond. I don’t hate you or anything. You’re working for a living like anyone else. You can only do so much.”

He looks back to you and smiles vaguely. “I just go where they tell me to.”

“And that’s why you like to be in control when you’re with me.”

“Yes,” Aemond says; and on his face—strong, scarred, perfect—you can see that he is reminiscing, that he is planning what he wants to do to you next. But he can’t do any of it. Not here, not now.

“I’m sorry about…you know. The kid thing. I really didn’t think she’d be home tonight. I would never subject her to something like that, walking in to find a strange guy in the house. And I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable either.”

“It’s okay. I believe you.”

“I don’t usually do this. I’m sure you think I’m lying, but I’m not. I’ve had two boyfriends since I got divorced seven years ago, and both times it didn’t last long and Cadi never met them. And it wasn’t…like it is with you. The dynamic, I mean. The…control thing. They were just normal dudes.”

“And they couldn’t satisfy you,” Aemond says, taunting, proud, setting your blood on fire.

“No. They couldn’t. Not even close.”

You both stand silently in the kitchen amidst a cascade of inconsequential noise: Eurythmics from the little pink boombox, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles from Cadi’s room, cicadas and bullfrogs and the long-eared owl from the world outside that is primordial and feral and green. For the first time in as long as you can remember, you feel not like the piecemeal potential of a desirable woman but whole. Aemond’s right eye traces every curve and edge of you in a way that makes you think: Maybe I will see him again after all.

“Come on,” you say, turning towards the front door. “I’ll walk you out.”

But when he steps onto the creaking porch—pulling on his Marlboro jacket, watching lightning bugs bloom like daisies in the yard—Aemond seems to be stalling. “This is lopsided,” he says, tapping the wooden boards with his Adidas sneakers.

“I know. The whole foundation is, it’s sinking. We’ll have to move eventually. But we’ve been in this place since Cadi was five, it has a lot of memories. She calls it the Fall-Down House.”

“Cute,” Aemond says, but he’s pondering something. “Do you own it?”

“Oh no, God no. We rent.”

“Are you saving for a down payment to put on a new house?”

This is a rude question. “A little,” you reply curtly. Not enough. You need to make money to save money.

“Okay.” Aemond senses your discomfort. He’s good at that; it’s an advantageous skill for a dom to possess, knowing when he’s approaching a limit long before you have to shut him down. He descends the porch steps. “I’ll be back for more of those cupcakes—” There is a shrill, alien hissing from out by the tree line. Aemond shouts and scrambles back onto the porch, throwing an arm in front of you to shield you from his enigmatic nocturnal adversary. “What the fuck was that?!”

“Just a gator,” you reassure him, amused.

“A what?”

“An alligator.” You show him the shadow that lurks beneath a young oak tree draped with Spanish moss. “She’s over there. Just stay on the gravel once you get off the porch.”

Aemond is puzzled. How does anyone live in this hellscape? his face says. “How do you know it’s a female?”

“She’s not too big, and she doesn’t bellow. But she sure loves to hiss.”

“I think alligators should have gone extinct with the rest of the dinosaurs.”

“Well, there’s a secret to dealing with them.”

“Yeah?”

You smile, skating your fingers into the sleeve of Aemond’s Marlboro jacket and up his forearm until you feel goosebumps rise on his skin. “If she gets mean, you just have to bite back.”

Aemond chuckles, turns your face towards his, kisses the apple your cheek…and then, for only a moment, his teeth close around the sensitive flesh there leaving a whirlpool of pulsing, forbidden heat. He whispers through your hair: “See you soon.”

“Will you?”

“Yes,” he says, severely now. It’s a commandment, it’s a need. “I absolutely will.”

Aemond leaves you, strides across the gravel driveway without glancing back, ducks into his car, lights a cigarette; you can see the rust-colored glow through the windshield as he takes a drag. You wait in a flurry of moths under the dim florescent bulb of the front porch until his Audi Quattro veers onto Route 401 and disappears.

I hope he meant it, you think as a lightning bug lands on your knuckles and illuminates there like the gemstone of a ring. I hope I’ll see him again.

Then you shake away the insect and go inside to see if Cadi wants to help you clean up the kitchen and get a brown sugar pie baked for tomorrow. As compensation, you’ll offer her the $10 bill Aemond gave you for the cupcakes.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fic

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mollysolo · 7 months

Note

hii can i request a sacred the thread with bucky barnes where it’s a tlou au and bucky and the reader are sent to go find an old friend of sam’s. like an enemies to lovers kinda thing. and congrats on 3k! :)

Labyrinth

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X fem!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky learn to get along when you are sent out on a mission together.

Warnings: Crying, Bucky is mean to the reader, arguing, some insults, there is an age gap between Bucky and the reader (Bucky is 42, the reader is 33), some cursing, kissing, idiots in love, tlou au, mention of guns, mutual pining

Word Count: 2.6k

a/n: i hope you like this!

my 3k follower celebration!

the gif below does not belong to me

For as long as you and Bucky had known each other, you’ve never gotten along. But that wasn’t your fault, you tried to be nice to him like you were to any other person in Jackson. But he just seemed to always treat you horribly anytime you spoke to him.

And you never understood why, but you weren’t going to kiss up to him. If he hates you, there’s nothing you were going to do try to change that. Even though the very thought of him hating you made you feel like your heart was slowly breaking in your chest because you were in love with him and had been for months. But the way he was treating you showed you that he quite obviously didn’t feel the same.

Little did you know, Bucky was in love with you too. He had been in love with you since the day you arrived in Jackson and he had seen Sam showing you around. But he had been scared of the feelings he has for you and has been immature about this whole situation ever since. He was being mean to you just because he liked you and he didn’t know what to do about it like he was still a young boy and he hated himself for that.

The only reason you two interacted at all was because Sam — who ran the community in Jackson — had assigned you to do patrol together every other morning. And right off the bat, Bucky had started to just be an asshole to you and only you.

He’d mercilessly tease you, insult you, torment you about how you lived alone and mostly kept to yourself. “Y’know, I’m not surprised that you live alone, doll. I don’t know why anyone want to live with you or love you, you’re always quiet and when you do talk, you’re just boring.” He had said to you one morning, causing tears to start to well up in your eyes. “Fuck you, Bucky.” you had said in response as you faced away from him and swiftly wiped your tears away.

And as much you would’ve liked to run home anytime he insulted you, that wasn’t an option during your patrol shifts. So you stayed there and tuned him out, not letting what he was saying to you bother you. But that particular statement, really dug deep. It hurt to hear the man you were in love with say these things to you.

You wished that he would just give up on insulting you. And little did Bucky know, the reason you were so introverted was because you had survived on your own for years since you were a kid and teenager and hadn’t gotten used to living close to other people again without worrying if you were in danger. You were taking it all one slow step at a time because that’s what worked for you. If only Bucky knew that, then maybe he’d stop being mean to you.

————————————

One morning in early December when you and Bucky weren’t on your patrol shift, Sam had called you two into his office because he had something he needed to discuss with you and Bucky. You were dreading to find out what he wanted to talk to you about. What if Sam sent you out on a mission with Bucky? Would you even be able to survive being completely alone with that man?

And that fear ended up becoming your reality just minutes after you got to Sam’s office. Sam was sending you and Bucky to find an old friend of his by the name of Joaquin Torres. This man used to live in Jackson and run the community along side Sam but he had randomly disappeared five years ago and Sam had finally gotten some insight on where Joaquin might be hiding.

So he decided to send you and Bucky — his best fighters and scavengers — to find him and bring him back. The two of you would leave tomorrow morning at 9am and start heading north.

You groaned and rolled your eyes the second Sam had told you that two of you would be going on a mission together. “Isn’t there someone else you can send with me?” you asked Sam, desperately hoping that he’d say yes.

Sam sighed as he began to respond to your question, “No, there isn’t. I’m sorry, (y/n) but you and Bucky are just going to have to learn to get along.” he had said to you, causing you to let out another groan.

You took a deep breath, “Fine.” you replied, getting one simple nod of his head from Sam in response.

You then stormed out of Sam’s office to go pack for the mission, leaving Bucky behind in the room. And once you were gone, Bucky looked down at his feet and let out a deep breath as he thought about all of this for a moment.

Sam knew just how much Bucky loved you and he didn’t know how long he was going to last on this mission before he started apologizing for everything and then admitting his feelings to you.

But now that he was actually thinking about it, that didn’t sound so bad. He just hoped that you would forgive him when that time for him to apologize came around. Bucky then looked at Sam one more time, nodded his head in understanding then left, off to pack his own bag for the mission.

And as you walked home from Sam’s office, this mission was starting to not sound so bad to you as well. Maybe this would give you and Bucky the chance to actually get to know each other without the arguments and insults. Maybe he’d fall in love with you too.

————————————

The following morning, you got up early and went to meet Bucky at the entrance to the community after grabbing some things you would need, your shotgun and bag strapped to your back, the horse Sam was letting you borrow standing at your side.

You arrived at your meeting place at 8:59am, earning an eye roll from Bucky.

“Do you even know how to be on time? We have to leave right now, we don’t have anytime to make a plan for how this mission should go.” Bucky complained, glaring at you as he got onto his own horse.

“Oh sorry, I was just busy getting enough of the resources we’ll need on this mission so that we don’t die.” you sternly replied, glaring right back at him as you got onto your horse, the bottom of your bag gently bumping against its back as you got on.

That sentence made Bucky’s eyes widen and it reminded him that all you had ever been was nice to him, even when he had been quite the opposite to you. But he was still too full of his pride to apologize so he simply nodded in response and motioned for you to follow him on the path you were supposed to go down.

————————————

The two of you road your horses on the path you were supposed to be going down for the next 8 hours in complete silence until you had to stop because the sun had started to set. You set up camp in a part of the forest you had come across with a large amount of trees that surrounded a small clearing.

You hopped off of your horse and tied her reigns to a nearby stable tree branch, petting her head before you went to unpack your sleeping bag, your silent way of telling her to lay down. You then got your sleeping bag out and set it down on the ground and took out a large blanket you had brought for your horse, gently unfolding it and setting it down on top of her now that it was getting colder outside.

Bucky watched in complete awe as you did all of this, you looked so gorgeous in the orange light that filled the forest as the sun set. He couldn’t bear to look away from you and he wished that he hadn’t been such an asshole to you from the start. Maybe then he’d have a chance with you.

You turned to face Bucky after you finished setting up your side of the camp, you had felt him looking at you the entire time you were setting your things up. “What?” you asked while you softly shook your head side to side and looked directly into his eyes.

His eyes widened at that and he shook his own head, to bring himself out of spacing out while he stared at you in his case, “Nothing, doll. Don’t worry about it.” he answered, sending a feeling of shock through your system while he crouched down to start the fire in the middle of your camp with some nearby branches.

That was the first time he had actually spoken to you without being mean in some way. Maybe this mission would bring out Bucky’s kinder side? At least that’s what you hoped, all you wanted was to see the side of him that he didn’t let anyone see and have him let you love him.

Sure, he was an asshole anytime he spoke to you. But some part of you just hoped that he loved you too and was just being an asshole because he doesn’t know what to do about these kinds of feelings, as stupid as that may sound. After all, you know it’s been a very long time since he’s had a lover, same as you.

And once Bucky had finished getting his side of the camp as well as the fire set up just ten minutes later, you sat down on your sleeping bag and crossed your legs.

You then reached back into your bag and pulled out two of the sandwiches you had packed for the mission. You threw one to Bucky and it landed in his lap, making him smile and softly chuckle for just a second. But you saw every reaction he’d just had, which caused your cheeks to heat up.

You let out a sigh as you took the first bite of your sandwich. If you and Bucky were going to be alone together for a while, you thought that now would be a good time to tell him more about yourself. Specifically your past, the reason for your solitude that he felt the need to make fun of.

“Y’know there’s a lot you don’t know about me, Bucky.” you said, starting off this sort of conversation in a relaxed manner. You hoped that he would listen to what you had to say.

He looked up at you from his own sandwich and smirked at you, “Oh, yeah? What don’t I know about you?” he asked as he looked into your eyes, showing you that he was listening to you and prompting you to continue on with what you were going to say.

You took one deep breath before you started your story, “There’s a reason why I live alone and I don’t interact with other people in the community as much as everyone else does. I was 10 when the outbreak hit and I was made an orphan right away because my parents had been infected. So, in all of the chaos I was forced to survive alone and figure everything out on my own. I haven’t lived so close to other people without worrying that I was in danger since I was 10 and I only moved to Jackson last year, so I’m still getting used to living so close to it all again. We’re all going through different things and I understand that what you are going through may be the reason you are taking your anger out on me.” you explained to him, your story causing tears to prick at Bucky’s eyes but he wiped them away before they even had the chance to fall.

You had been through so much and even though he was mean to you, you were never once mean to him. You always treated him well, even when he didn’t deserve it. You had been on your own for 22 years and you still didn’t let that destroy your kindness or the goodness of your heart.

“Oh god, (y/n), I had no idea. I’m so sorry, for every mean thing I’ve said to you. I’ve been such an asshole to you and you don’t deserve that at all.” he made known to you, his apology that you had been waiting months to hear making you softly smile as you continued to eat your sandwich.

“Thank you and I accept your apology, Bucky.” you told him after you swallowed the bite you had just taken, that soft smile still on your face making you look extremely beautiful to Bucky.

He was in shock, “You forgive me? You should be furious with me.” he said, you pointed your face down towards your lap and softly chuckled at that.

You looked back up at him, complete honesty in your eyes, “Yes I do because life is too short to hold grudges against people, especially in the world we live in now. Plus, I don’t think I could ever bring myself to be genuinely mad at the man I’m in love with.” you said, a gasp quickly escaping your mouth after that last sentence, Bucky was in shock too. You hadn’t planned to admit your feelings for him as impulsively as you just did.

But the very second that this shock wore off, Bucky was on his feet and quickly making his way over to you. He fell onto his knees in front of you and lovingly took your face in his large, warm hands. You placed your hands over his, showing him that you were okay with his touch. There were tears in his eyes once again and this time he let them fall.

“God, I love you so fucking much. I’ve been such an idiot.” he shakily told you through his tears while your face remained in his hands, laughing a little at himself while he briefly looked away from you.

You inched yourself a little closer to him and looked up into Bucky’s eyes once more, a look of love only for him in your eyes.

“Me too.” you replied with a nod of your head, laughing with him, “I love you too, Bucky.” you made known to him, prompting Bucky to crouch down more so that he could press his forehead against yours and just feel you. He wanted to feel that you were real, that you were actually here and that you loved him back.

He pulled away from your forehead a few minutes later and looked down into your eyes again, “Can I kiss you, doll?” he asked, a tone of desperation in his voice as he continued to gaze into your eyes like you had hung the stars and moon in the sky just for him.

You nodded right away as tears started to form in your own eyes, not having the strength to verbally tell him yes because you were overwhelmed with everything you felt for Bucky. And with that, he pressed his lips to yours and passionately kissed you. You began to stand up on your knees while you kissed him back, loosely wrapping your arms around your neck and pulling him even closer to you, letting yourself indulge in the handsome man.

“I love you so, so much.” Bucky muttered against your lips in between kisses, causing a new feeling to bloom in your chest. Happiness.

You now had each other and everything felt truly perfect for once. The two of you clicked together like two pieces of a puzzle and you hoped that you would stay that way, in love and connected — the way you were always meant to be — forever. You had finally gotten through the worst of what was the labyrinth of falling in love with someone.

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fintan-pyren · 28 days

Text

Sometimes, life is busy. You shouldn't let that stop you from enjoying a good book, but who has the time to read the same words over and over again?

For your enjoyment and convenience, I have removed all duplicate words from the first Keeper of the Lost Cities book.

blurry fractured memories swam through sophie’s mind but she couldn’t piece them together tried opening her eyes and found only darkness something rough pressed against wrists ankles refusing to let move a wave of cold rushed as the horrifying realization dawned was hostage cloth across lips stifled cry for help sedative’s sweet aroma stung nose when inhaled making head spin were they going kill would black swan really destroy their own creation what point project moonlark then everblaze drug lulled toward dreamless oblivion fought back clinging one memory that could shine tiny spot light in thick inky haze pair beautiful aquamarine fitz’s first friend new life ever maybe if hadn’t noticed him day museum none this have happened no knew it’d been too late even white fires already burning curving city filling sky with sticky smoke spark before blaze miss foster mr sweeney’s nasal voice cut blaring music he yanked earbuds out by cords you decided you’re smart pay attention information sophie forced open not wince bright fluorescents reflected off vivid blue walls amplifying throbbing headache hiding sweeney mumbled shrinking under glares now staring classmates pulled shoulder-length blond hair around face wishing hide behind it exactly kind went way avoid why wore dull colors lurked blocked other kids who at least foot taller than survive twelve-year-old high school senior perhaps can explain listening your ipod instead following along held up like evidence crime though probably he’d dragged class natural history balboa park assuming his students be excited about all-day field trip didn’t seem realize unless giant dinosaur replicas came started eating people cared tugged loose eyelash nervous habit stared feet there make understand needed cancel noise hear chatter from dozens tourists echoed fossil-lined splashed cavernous room mental voices real problem scattered disconnected pieces thoughts broadcast straight into brain being hundreds tvs different shows same time sliced consciousness leaving sharp pains wake freak secret burden since fell hit five years old she’d blocking ignoring nothing helped never tell anyone wouldn’t you’ve above lecture don’t give asked pointed enormous orange duckbill center how lambeosaurus differs dinosaurs we’ve studied repressed sigh flashed an image card front display glanced entered photographic recorded every detail recited facts twisted scowl classmates’ grow increasingly sour weren’t fans resident child prodigy called curvebuster finished answer grumbled sounded know-it-all stalked exhibit next over follow thin separating two rooms block muffled grabbed little relief nice job superfreak garwin chang boy wearing t-shirt said i’m gonna fart sneered shoved past join they’ll write another article child teaches lame-o-saurus still bitter yale had offered full scholarship rejection letter arrived few weeks allowed go parents much pressure young end discussion so attending closer smaller san diego college year fact some annoying reporter newsworthy enough post local paper chooses ivy league complete photo freaked wasn’t strong word more half rules unnecessary front-page articles pretty worst nightmare they’d newspaper complain editor seemed unhappy story run place on arsonist terrorizing trying figure mistake bizarre white-hot flames smelled burnt sugar took priority everything especially unimportant girl most ignore or used caught sight tall dark-haired reading yesterday’s embarrassing black-and-white looked seen particular shade teal smooth sea glass beach glittered flickered expression gaze disappointment decide shrugged leaning closed distance between smile belonged movie screen heart did weird fluttery thing is pointing picture nodded feeling tongue-tied fifteen far cutest talking i thought squinted brown uh yeah sure say reason felt conversation accent british somehow crisper which bothered know are suck words soon left mouth course boys cute made mushy perfect returned told hulking greenish standing albertosaurus all its lizardesque glory me do think that’s it’s absurd

isn’t see saw small t rex: big teeth ridiculously short arms fine laughed i’ll get meet turned leave just classes kindergartners barreled fossil crushing screaming knock step whole realm pain kids’ stinging high-pitched needles many once angry porcupine attacking hands darted rubbing temples ease stabbings skull remembered alone reaction locked forehead pained imagined seconds hushed blood drain mean created plenty racket shrieks squeals giggles plus sixty individual chattering away gasped solved earlier everyone boy’s distinct accented speaking totally completely silent possible whispered widened moved whisper telepath flinched skin itch gave can’t believe backed exit reveal total stranger okay holding sort wild animal calm afraid froze my name’s fitz added stepping name searching sign part joke joking thinking wobbled spent seven find someone else world tilted sideways steady here looking twelve we better question: want air jerked bolted door stumbling shaky legs rhythm sucked breaths ran down stairs burned lungs bits ash flew ignored wanted space strange come shouted picked pace raced courtyard base steps wide fountain grassy knolls sidewalk got inside because poor quality footsteps gaining wait pouring energy sprint fighting urge glance shoulder halfway crosswalk sound screeching tires reminded both ways terrified driver struggling stop car plowed right die second blur swerved missing inches jumped curb sideswiped streetlight heavy steel lantern cracked plummeted instincts hand shot pulling strength somewhere deep gut pushing fingertips force collide falling gripping extension arm dust settled floated feel weighed ton put familiar warned bringing trance shrieked dropped without hurtled watch yanking split crashed ground impact knocked tumbled body broke fall landed chest stretched flurry questions swirling coherent idea sat replaying sense need witnessed miracle tighten panic let’s overwhelmed plan resist street reached intersection north zoo where crowd during firestorm running missed hearing changed terrifying scenarios involved government agents throwing dark vans experiments watched road ready bolt anything suspicious zoo’s massive parking lot relaxed outside milling cars happen witnesses slowed walk breath promise sincere easier opened hesitated supposed am trust won’t considered father sent specific age observe report always talk frowned disappointed himself does means expected threw what’s wrong touched eyelids suddenly selfconscious figured again awe us stopped whoa hang ‘one us’ frowning spotted fanny-pack-wearing within earshot deserted corner ducking green minivan there’s easy we’re human stunned speak hysterical laugh escaped repeated shaking riiiiiight insane trusting kicked stomped telling truth minute last listen plea humans vanished gone reeling leaned argued taking clear set pole minutes ago almost three managed finally saying alien erupted laugher cheeks grew hot also relieved compose elf hung foreign object belong visions tights pointy ears danced giggling expect guess stick wavy spikes rock star good crazy agreed refused serious frodo ring save middle-earth toys hid corners showed oh ought folded slender silver wand intricate carvings etched sides tip round crystal sparkled sunlight magic asking rolled actually pathfinder spun latch top dangerous you’ll faded depends take concentrate matter happens proof prove whisk land curious harm someone’s willed palms sweat fingers laced stupid tingled everywhere scanning warning look scowled bit tongue concentrated racing seriously become those silly girls counted raising facet beam refracted tightened grip forward warm tingling million feathers swelling underneath tickling giggle melted goo keeping oozing blanket warmth wrapped faster blink eye might squeaked stood edge glassy river lined impossibly trees fanning emerald leaves among puffy clouds row castles walt disney throw rocks kingdom golden path led sprawling elaborate domed buildings built brick-size jewels each structure color snowcapped mountains surrounded lush valley crisp cool

cinnamon chocolate sunshine places exist less appear forgotten released realized hard squeezing unable castle towers oddly our capital call eternalia heard shangri-la lost cities you’d stories rarely ridiculous things elves burst quiet gentle breeze brushing soft murmur traffic hammering unspoken very silence rising tiptoes view streets ghost town building towered others stones emeralds banner flying tribunal progress everyone’s watching proceedings council basically royalty holds broken law they’re deal laws well shook wrap cringing question funniest glared funny regained control try cling remaining strands sanity sun casting ray onto leaping hitched ride headed impossible infinite travel haven’t theory relativity stumped dumbest i’ve albert einstein huh dumb argue confident unnerving harder waited feather sensation dryer scattering directions until rubber band later shivering ocean whipping glowed carved moonlight failed passed bring herself true science book read confused observed ‘hey learned smug grin best minds begin comprehend complexities reality elves’ ahead slowest trump proper education shoulders sagged sank four scenery blurred whether tears entire lie nudged hey fault believed taught i’d done works bells chimed large gateway floor-length velvet capes draped tunics emerged followed creatures marching military formation rocky pants muscles prominently flat noses coarse gray pleated folds armadillo goblins signed treaty hating trembling dressed forbidden lumenaria worlds gnomes dwarves ogres trolls mentioning focused motioned farther squatting betrayed ancient councillors intelligent rule planning war ancients violence disappeared forbid any contact devices working defend race famine problems chilled frigid wind licking who’d known must’ve after eventually evolved myths simple yes peeked glowing crucial identity clicked spinning thousand loud clang gate stepped shadows sleek cobalt home jolted mom bus bland boring stole incredible blinding swept smoky fresh surprised recognized plain square houses narrow tree-lined house ask lived coughed handle putting pollutes planet these aren’t normal chemical smells usually wildfires smell barbecue melting cotton candy burn rain arsonists admitted pocket hoping notice dad wants knows neither important meant mystery he’s happy careful please shown today thank act family doesn’t suspect squared courage telepaths special ability rarer ones thirteen six months corrected liking youngest manifest start reverberated scanned positive waking hospital moment forget hooked kinds machines hovering shouting barely separate hold happening group adults haunted worry brows narrowed doing extra private keep wall weak hated bossed answering concerned action worked imagining stretching shadow mine blurted pale process hardest worries live fumbled answers long trouble knees link amazing will tomorrow panicked battered cluttered living phone she’s receiver having reeled daggers calling wandering worried police sorry stammered convincing horrible liar scared mom’s anger concern nervously curly guy realizing lies based freaking walked trolley train teacher guard ugh complained closing adult rubbed wrinkle appeared stressed upset safe stand weirdo understood dangers teased tormented bullied deflate wish trailed close rest sister slipped pin painful tight hug welcome honey dinner ten amy upstairs kitchen unease twist stomach worn linoleum pastel tacky knickknacks ordinary glittering kissed cheek shabby briefcase table how’s soybean wink baby apparently pronouncing thousands times lid simmering pots garlic cream filled handed silverware turn crackin’ scooted plopped usual chair nine role mastered opposite lower average grades popularity sisters wondered definitely powers lowered breathing: inhale exhale repeat care nickname dizzy must lay should eat skipping acting fettuccine night favorite rich sauce sudden nausea tug eyelashes chewed bite swallow fork official thanks great homework sprinted bed hiss shattered marty pounding fluffy cat sitting tail slunk settling lap marty’s purring

confront downstairs settle explained blonde chubby brunette screamed throbbed deeper ripped apart blinked related change lots adopted poked brought e l fudges plate cookies milk getting sick palm fever tired cookie stumbled routine crawled blankets wrapping pillow dreams kissing tucked tradition breathe ella yep elephant stuffed sleep tonight um guys hugged tighter hours labor endured switched birth daughter doubt wondering anymore dreamed keebler perfected recipes liked oreos drown vat fudge woke overrated morning quick shower jeans shirt buttery yellow stripes item closet self-conscious wear gold flecks admit clipped toyed lip gloss snuck check crept yard blinking stuck contained next-door neighbor perch middle lawn forkle rearranging garden tableaux nosy checking effect beady bored hers loved sentences complaining 911 obligated gnome fraction inch gives headaches yapping interrupted ball fur streaked barking spandex jogging shorts chased grabbing dog leash clumsy lunge kneeled stroking wild-eyed panting creature drew growled strained mad sister’s hates displaying several halfmoon wounds bleeding scar suppose willing carry blocks seems winked piercing certainly yelled jogger guy’s louder chaos wonder grab drag should’ve trick react stopping tracks side man straightened height quite intimidating ordered glowered promised snorted grumbling moving explaining whenever appearance waiting incident eyewitnesses frustrating confusing bell rang lurking scream demanded loudly heads bad flashing cocky rush blush unanswered tries creepy snatch slow replayed scene remember growling forkle’s quietly quieter we’ll we’d eyeing suspected impending mischief leap english ditch yesterday strangle pull disappearing fail willingly use telepathy brushed whispering pushed further test tested permission assignment frustrated matters invading offense scrunch nod movement nearby oak drowned could’ve sworn jogger’s campus gestured tree either imagine adjusted shouldn’t anyway who’s committee sidelong heat breaking automatically furious enjoyed caused determines grinned future shield surveyed surroundings metal nearly everglen leading doors absorbs directly likes privacy stressful doubted king kong faint click swung inward striking clearing growing midnight cape fastened clasp diamond-encrusted wings lean vibrant resemblance alden introduced bow curtsy shake greet shy pleasure prominent kidding unusual flush smiled embarrassed fire alden’s injury muttered son shared kidnapping considering such might’ve paranoid has touch rude assure love kidnapper searched reassure kindness agree placed gently jacket ticked indeed fascinating sounding triumphant perfectly specifically nexus forgot covered dug cuff coat clamped bracelet wrist twisting fit snug comfortable accessory single jewel rectangle symbols letters spelled gibberish odd decorate finality safety precaution break particles carried concentration circumstances bare early fools overestimate skills fade cautious answered lose yourself able fully reform pulls forever goose bumps dimple cleared throat prefer reproving send mission collect long-lost guests wiped blooming red pink purple rainbow perfume flowers dizzying testing qualify foxfire paused fungus insulted prestigious academy named represents glow darkened comes ‘fungus’ strongest talent kiss goodbye excuse proud attend accomplishment earliest levels develops abilities continue studies elvin sneak work knowingly chills mixed night’s troubling revelation sickening councillor bronte difficult impress feels upbringing lack disqualify surprises existed miffed votes squat brown-skinned huge tended fairy tale plants slantways shuffled carrying basket twinkling fruit guessing pictured men hats statues servants stare choose safer gardens enjoy privileged taste gnomish produce lunch treat dig slimy tubers slugs hoped menu peeled meadow elegant manor entirely intricately numerous turrets gables rose tower resembled lighthouse braided foyer prism widest hallway fountains spouted streams colored water hall dead-ended encrusted jeweled mosaic

diamond unicorns amethyst spoke wealth squeezed formal dining sheer silk curtains drawing chandelier waterfall shimmering crystals platters fancy goblets figures jewel-encrusted circlets plush thronelike chairs surrounding curtsied necks clasps keys horribly underdressed fabrics except disguise kenric oralie football player toothy princess rosy ringlets met smallest cropped features finger pairs floor laughter squirmed joined pleased shape it’ll transformed noticing autorepeat: scooting oralie’s one’s died yet hurt immortal trace sorrow bodies aging reach adulthood wrinkles belongs yourselves guest uncovered grimace strips glop goop tasted juiciest cheeseburger stuff mashed carnissa root umber leaf tastes chicken animals tone ate toxic waste squirming grimaced vegetarians horror vegetables cheeseburgers tells swallowed mouthful thud discussing openly respond kenric’s jaws dry remembering warnings stay begun eight pass mentioned learn relax bronte’s icy gust common announced jaw flushing chagrined incredulous impenetrable key sentence ‘almost breached guilt conscience sounds infallible thinks likely exceptionally lift weight telekinesis recovering embarrassment shrank goblet accident raised lifting invisible scoffed unimpressed limitations unlike physical confidence clue giving blew pretending imaginary extend sharper worth saucers applauded excellent praise couple glasses determined stronger ounce core empty collective gasp including breathed celebrate cramped strain knocking thunderous collision open-mouthed shock hollered sealed clapped language guys’ enlightened leaped instinctive interesting babbling teasing noisy gripped ‘soybean’ mispronouncing blushed chuckled beside dusting waved insisted sighed suldreen stretch line rare species bird puzzle solve uncomfortable coincidence convince decision barked shoving moonlarks vote otherwise fight favor final fragile lovely empath emotions extended grasped delicate fear confusion sincerity describe azure settles revisited till adjust invoke demand probe planned arranged quinlin busy decipher fun training looks iffy ‘bothered’ dad’s reluctant emptiness exploded choked saving colder implications ditched stall punishment atlantis nowhere patch white-capped waves signs seagulls screech poop hardly continent tide pool triangular slip slick shoes match gown begged status noble members nobility offices empire waist beaded neckline dress costume seeing clothes: tunic embroidery edges pockets sewn sleeves exact size sit boots completed thankfully knowing biana comparison changing subject ledge engineered catastrophe compartment revealing bottles label bottle whirlpool uncorked flung blast whipped faces roar churning ladies suggested worse gulped maelstrom beneath salty sprayed jump push count dignity drowning flailing idiot formed tunnel dipping weaving craziest waterslide starting launched vortex sponge licked toe pack kittens minus kitten sprang cushion smoothed wet incoming rocketed slightly squishy packed sand gleaming metropolis dome beyond soared skyline bathing radiating spires network canals interconnected arched bridges pictures venice modern clean despite bottom underwater muted hum background seashell ear build stores power precisely amount changes plated reflect firelight illuminate sink wandered shops renaissance fair women’s gowns shifted advertised two-for-one specials bottled lightning fast approval spyball applications strolled hybrid chicken-lizard invented main canal hailed carriages floating almond-shaped boat rows high-backed benches elbow-length steered bench reins skimming surface eight-foot-long scorpion deadly pincers reared curled sting eurypterid stroked shiny shell eurypterid’s slice emitting low hissing petted harmless carriage quinlin’s yours fiber mutant insect doom probed gritted pressing hideous sonden’s office thrashed heebie-jeebies commute while secure needs protection file highly classified business district windows tracing bearing names treasury registry interspeciesial services unreadable random strings runes nonsense writing

alphabet clueless chin jumble nah affected gap kid option country tests dropping member broad kelp ornamentation precise read: sonden: chief mentalist cube swiped elbow ping assurances humiliating bypassed receptionist dim damp stone desk dark-skinned chin-length seat ceremony unique understatement squirm handing lick dna unsanitary tiniest hologram center: rotating unearthly breathing prentice sacrificed double helixes sacrifice reasons fears hundred seventy-eight murmured began pacing invaded she’ll greatest keeper older midstep record share trained charge protecting currently hidden karaoke game sing off-key notes clearly eavesdropping strip slid winding stairway climbed oval footage brush projected chill aerial southern california lines circle area images deepened valleys ruled reflections note interrupting communicate waving warn turning overreacting glancing shuddered desperate kidnapper’s threatened easily implied nameless faceless entity quickly threatening authorities would’ve shivered accelerant chemicals leads lighting spilling oil blowing investigate council’s position here: takes visit babysitter decent equally spying steam secrecy existence discovered hoax search updated slight bypassing distracted evillooking matches keepers lagoon glint shimmery dunes lake west shore statue topped hollow iridescent film shimmered loop apparatus resemble bubble lifted clung shrieking levitate forming touching bubble’s rumble coming geyser shoot eleven crash below bobbed where’s scary pure joy popped whisked glaring gates flash strode olive contrast youth shone nerve summoning personal shorter intimidated difference sooner exiled clench fists backward tiergan aware opinion summoned convinced tiergan’s fierce crumbled crossing expert inventory widening whatever foxfire’s newest mentor puppy officially weirding becomes provide retired given persuaded return resentment mixture surprise hone assistance reasonable restrictions pretend opportunity silencing bet terrible mood mumbling mostly irresponsible manage choice benefit stares notify dame alina returning kept bruise meantime session listed remedial schedule lessons dummies correct assumption warmed tuesday brilliant panel everglen’s grounds sessions study student subjects one-on-one nerves one-onone succeed mention level grade relearning self-doubt heavier fragmented disappear explanation aside pleasant dis arguing overstuffed armchairs woman squealed snickered wife della pinched gesturing dear vanishers smiling musical hint della’s beauty tossed pursed heart-shaped parents’ combined gangly troll interceded borrow errands frumpy files requested denied request approve grady edaline case torn radiant parcels strobe unwrapped packages clasped cord neck choker pendant elf-y anytime fund’s activated fund register money standard dollars lusters laughing luster dollar crinkled ew insult afford differently limited seventy eighty makes sad curved window overlooking silvery floor-to-ceiling aquarium wingback facing piled books scrolls anxiety remind stacks newspapers circled crossed news removed drawer theories irritation super stuttered discuss faced solution allow ours they’ve effective immediately too-simple accept kick constant discovery longer unbearable loneliness friends grasping overwhelm areas access severely restricted dead deciding gravestones became vivid: grave tearstained draw suffer struck complicated relocated jobs erase tear obvious believing shutting function erased armchair scrubbed forbade sob occurred risking twenty alert plans clothes sees wiping focus bent unshed horrors cringed buried trembled bouncing busted eavesdrop grounded hugging worrying pouted pettiness bratty obnoxious pain-in-the-butt embrace struggles play daughters mouths senses hook hurry daze rememorize room: dusty available quilt mother tripped furry crouching releasing pathetic meow disk sleeping gas release drugging physically ill backpack slung giggled elizabeth clutching anywhere couch fingered ordering thirty crumpled burying recognize crouched smearing drool snot drugged sobs

overcame jerk washers bags regret bear slept finish hawaiian family’s limp determination taken fourteen cried assured stranglehold haunting gets hope personally oversee relocation flared wrung guardians title selected enthusiasm strangers elwin’s blue-crystaled temptation shiver raked bones orphan conservatory lead backyard security choosing saved ache suffering gift raise ended abandoned wipe elwin physician medical hate doctors brave regular nightmares brief stays struggled dragging direction drop free implying biana’s glare escape punch bathed gigantic glued cushioned cot syringe goes fidget spectacles scientist snapped painless orb flasher manipulate skilled orem vacker show eclipse biggest celebrations traditions damage permanent tensed food chance innocent cells dashing depending orbs squinting lenses stunningly lit dramatic expecting toxins research rifled satchel vials liquids major detox braced medicine syrups nectar unknown fruits tingly drink youth legends enzymes essential health refreshing downed contents gulp drank medicines list follow-up checkup whistled sometimes heated lame stinky stegosaurus shame horrified production wimp doctor phobia jumping needle strap bunch shots allergic how’d concrete nine-one-one unconscious genes kicking trigger bedroom canopied chandeliers room’s gotten deserve ruined chanting mantra shut pajamas tuck asleep belonging alive twenty-five catch breakfast clock shop furniture detoxes materializing clutched ghostly exotic heartbreaker fitted glamorous shopping explosion behold wardrobe outfits extras pick beat-up sparkly casual packing leaked days unpack hungry knotted sadly dampened preserve havenfield exciting jolie deny loss wonderful booming fenced-in pastures spread scrambled versions rehabilitation centers sanctuary protected trap nessie artist endangered gorillas lions mammoths extinct thriving herd woolly colonies saber-toothed tigers slack exists rob qualities provides thrive feeding hunt diet steep cliffs caves flower-lined using ropes lasso lizard neon beast protest drama queen husky male commanded beast’s heave feat twice snaarrll bucked guardian lunged tangled writhed losing balance verdi tyrannosaurus comments meeting jaculus winged serpent feeds support contain bloodsucking snake claws snout tremble lowering fangs glinted slobber motioning glimpse dinosaur-riding chiseled feather-covered james bond robin hood balding relate handsome feathery banged pet rub rex’s stayed docile unblinking separated verdi’s wound plugged slime death rot tuna fish combination kelpie dung bites jar swear edaline’s grady’s wary compared palatial estate mansion standards columns cupola roof entryway central upper floors cascaded ceiling wispy fabric turquoise amber curls similar circles fluff presentable rex picking playing rodeo cowboy nope wash staircase sadness lingered tea mallowmelt insist gooey cake fresh-baked chip soaked ice frosting butterscotch dripping hasty slices served nook grazing linens painted china homesick woken lushberry juice pop possessed conjurer form teleporting objects coolest unfortunately scraggly slurps burps letting friend’s ached grieve fished imparter simply strangled pounded reassuring deafening third star-shaped dangled glittery weaved carpet scent canopy occupied dressing bookshelves brightly volumes bathroom bathtub swimming biting awesome assumed jolie’s tour awkward delicious soupy pizza unpacking wrinkled scrapbook wherever welled remnants dried sixteen sunrise streaks blending mirror darken awake finishing hovered doorway interrupt riser shades clap bruises conjured bowl spoon banana bread tempted impose sloppy handwriting upside symbol corner: bird’s beak tickled babble scare extremely documents cipher moisture particularly believable prescribed drawn eager fidgeting ruffles simplest bought hi kesler groaned island mysterium identical mold vendors spices sweets buzzed crowded sidewalks working-class social rank ‘talent simpler correspondingly unfair born lesser lives type designed village avoiding whispers ruewen pretended different

store crooked nursery rhyme burps: merry apothecary belched maze shelves pills laboratory beakers bubbling burners rainbow-colored lab skinny tousled strawberry periwinkle blob tubes add amarallitine dex tongs vial experiment poured beaker sparked plume dirty gag concoction exclaimed hello ‘hello impersonation sludge eda scrap sheet kesler’s brother-in-law nephew practically monday al freaks dimples burped beanpole hooded cloak vika annoyance handiwork written girl’s bald scalp meanwhile stina ’cause twitched battling sell solutions sasquatch dent bony appendages children throttle hairoids stock week wailed ogre wicked misses responsible friendly rage here’s spat helping customers potent hat flinch useless buy countered retort stina’s oooh slammed fist timkin heks helps situation traditional absolutely brings stuffy nobles happier grinning mess tweak supplies armful worktable sneaky beard dex’s evil mortar pestle teach tingle attempt fifty-seven solo property collapse practiced checked displayed sliver percent chose he’ll hawk mentors monitor weakness expelled pushes transferred exillium swallowing bile mounting attack messy juline riveted gossip interruption interest hilarious bookshelf mounted cover camera summer flipping pages naked mouse suit disneyland dizznee photos honestly movies outlets flipped technology solar powered rifling sir conley’s luck lady galvin highest rate rig calming flooded seventeen gadgets chimes arrive uniform skirt leggings shirt-vest-cape combo laceup jerkin long-sleeved slacks waist-length superhero captain blueberry rescue meaning order demonstrate rid wimpy halcyon mastodons mascot birds storm mastodon ceremonies costumes glad idiots appealing crest triangle heart: scarlet eagle soaring talons chemistry equipment theirs adopting adoption adopt temporary enrollment manticore themselves parties dies span cope calmed orphans wylie whose recover connection blames wylie’s hanging leapmaster 500 lucky authorized 250 tons rotated five-story pyramid sharply angled u stained seventh amphitheater extensive fields grass hopelessly prodigies uniforms building’s finding ducked starts orientation principal reads announcements attendance collar track peal close-up stunning porcelain caramel-colored foremost whoever reekrod weekend mark punished fullest extent threat dangle continued detect ah spotlight hissed viper’s nest ssssssophie hole crawl concludes today’s nearest exception divided wing banners bore midflight halls quad throughout sparkling sapphire chatted doorways lining atrium spectacle creating marked rune locker mirrored lock uses gross faculty picks flavors pepper sneeze croak yelped stench rotten eggs dash diaper muskog wheezy snicker whirled towering mass frizzy cackling hags stalking hairs shave earth serum friday retorted raven swishing behavior phasers ashamed apologize obviously spend detention alexine stinks beet minions kinda frog fumes catching jensi rapid-fire speech talked buckets redder instructed honest ‘human girl’ ‘sophie’ whim elementalism pride backtracked twists turns drops warped wooden session’s zapped ‘zapped’ thunderclap eighteen tray electrocuted quiver conley hitting fluted botched sending tornado tornadoes mastering elements entering foods series stalls court mall recognizable eaten tables cafeteria whom discourage joining verge perceptible message clear: focusing bigger jensi’s acne braces fairly slicked greasy ponytails drooled setting bang c’mon dude unison ‘e’ duh drooly volunteered singed universe daunting exaggerated messing ‘dude’ killing explode cough pixielike rescuing tossing petite balled braids suicide overeager marella mare nicknames obeyed enemies honored pucker licorice lemon fan prettypants rather grumpy brat brother’s dreamy willpower copying sip looped defending dizznees triplets says ‘bad match’ genetically incompatible inferior aunt uncle superstrange celebrities famous vackers superimportant marella’s sympathy grandma heartbroken helpless veins hopeless cases guarantee scooping mammoth shudder awful afternoon feared astronomical

learning astin whispery complex maps planetarium effortless excelled hour survived approaching dragon hateful invited feelings letters: extinguished stuffing fill animosity deck ‘nice uncanny royal highness bothers remembers talented ‘deck beaming nineteen thursday disaster goal sandwiched colosseum pe vanity near door: sneakers ponytail owned ship slap reply lasted compare redek squish may fool stops idle threats grouped twos tromps manifested fifty-fifty manifesting mysterious remark required variable reign terror ‘everyone’ impressive jolt supervise caton titan god informed channeling supereasy channel parts body: heights speeds normally unimpressive attempts threes bumped defense appetite startled spaceship unremarkable studying superintently snapping scraping probing concept unsettling establish forcing eighty-seven puckered brow assume cheerful scraped intended drained steadying suggest ethics attached meganeura exercise annoy fidgeted cocked wanna buzzing dived vulture-size dragonflies patted freaky-looking bug blown gargantuan proportions creepiest disco balls grown monster enclosure phys ed intense emergency weirdest part: proven trustworthy receive assignments lectured responsibility detecting discover elite avoided mesmer nauseated wow sheesh inflicting curiosity won causes dara lecture: pyramids tidal army hairy hollowing himalayas strangest mumble creeped exile interested dying supertalented fundamental guilty underground eternity ruin fluke churned abandoning illegal washer alter dump brother secluded sorted reminding effort flavored flumes spritzed shove disturbing failing smirked alchemy pupil encouraging cracking melody ominous ingredients trophies gilded items pointy-toed suspiciously midas milky liquid dancing rushing rustle red-brown updo hunter silky decorated patterns swished slightest alkahest universal solvent stored itself dissolves wood flesh taxes substance alchemist wise teaching masters tincture poultice basic serums yellowed box flask jars iron transmuting metals recipe formula labeled instructions fiddled rechecked mistakes plunged whip fizzed rumbled jelly galvin’s exquisite dissolved luxurious damaged salvage welt healing ma’am murder retrieve afterward muttering incompetence flunk sprawled hallways stark ditching keefe gulon disheveled untucked popular belva crush blame 90 certain paid accidentally cue epic alina’s ugly crying treated whiter phobia consisted rooms: treatment beds brewing physician’s paperwork slinky scurried bullhorn demented ferret banshee adorable fellow dramatically wanting seize mmm-hmm acid mimed effects destroyed salve measured whap wash present laughs clarification confirming twenty-one embellished version destruction joked bottling anwen multispeciesial 324 faxon metaphysics complimented requests brown-eye create overnight granted incredibly challenging explosions occurrence unlearn lifetime knowledge levitating rainbows constantly messed highlight skill effortlessly amazed unwanted transmit else’s psychic photograph needing patient plague suspicion snotty maruca i-hate-sophiefoster club reaching growl jealous prettiest bedlam subdue chasing rabbits antlers swinging trunk lump verminion pen boosted mammoth’s trumpeted earthshaking squeal ringing mound timid twig hiiiissssssssssss uncurled rodent bulging hamsters rottweiler-size hamsterzilla trample japanese hamster cooed snaarrrlll impressed chase steer dashed catches fifty stupidest clod mud nailed grooowwwwllll fatal flaw pinned grunted press snarling squeeze verminion’s unlocked assortment spewed whined pile gloves shed trade trudged oversize squirrels rats identify burlap sack quivering snarl steeled shriek batlike heaved wool scratches leg outbuildings carefully organized veterinarian’s laid sterile spreading limbs smeared eyedropper dripped creature’s rewarded squeaky rumbling crackly purr smiles cage barrel soapy chain-sawesque snores vibrating brattail tuber sausage imp guessed six-inch venomous stings snoring vicious describing tame yetis outnumbered conked chipper iggy strand swell

generous hugs touches gestures glistened dubious trails twenty-two sharing congested warthog roommate snuggly sleepless spoil caring ultimate splotching championship sacks cheered sympathetic secretly celebrating partnered naturally teamed splotcher splattered loses winners person wins marks smugly win splotch splat deserved colorful prize contest pardon hopes wonderboy gagging rounds beat opponent knots backing aim ow raw telekinetic flushed compliment disqualifies pumped victory hotter cheering opponents experience duel beginner’s talents mighty competition grumblings battle odds experienced evidently four: sixes trella dempsey paired hopeful muster bested winner fluttered appears competitors betraying butt preference keefe’s chant ladies’ float clenched adrenaline surged audience back-up splotches rebound phenomenon weightless collided simultaneous fate collapsed twenty-three placing compress wincing muscle injured whermiwhahapped worse: laying banshees mortal danger stirred lucid winced stiff glands zinged collected rebounded bounce specialized hammered controls actual mix matched draining practice evenly awfully sidelines wobbling auditorium applause teensy annoyed copied blushing elbowing ribs tie protested declared excused lesson rejoin splotchers acted delivered p congratulations confirm bath lathering bathers soggy instinctively besides creased drive twenty-four meter one-third younger that’d wonderboy’s precious midterms score seventy-five recommend nissa tutoring consider tutor projection gagged flavor yell daily tore prattle chewy caramel peanut butter pouch cracker jack horse mane prattles’ unicorn pins collection examined digital 122 185 number eighty-five super-rare bitterness vaguely compute unexpected development century too-little-too-late branch other’s replaced beeline simultaneously sniff aw stuck-up snob wasted invite humiliate walking ambush capable teeniest details clanged cricket chirped embroidered satin sash wringing exhaled seeming makeovers wrestling polite fortunately braid flutter dirt pitter-patter eh sayin’ shooting quest grateful team jealousy guarded raid questers tagged sentry tabs isolate general nail targets listened softer instantly presence tremendous connected forest thundered vision racked credible crashing bushes partner deceive insists hasn’t secrets toes staying chain apologizing visitors sulking funk snipe wagged there’ve weekly jokes havenfield’s defied exams panicking passing guide narrowing shipped exam brass copper transmutations ideas challenges thwarted spilled gashrooms reek pored frozen cause shattering cheated accomplished cheat ideal dreading twenty-six tri-angular apex streamed pane angle reflection examining confessed forgave neutral violated ethical regulations expulsion suggesting argument ruling obey flourish bother violating reporting stifle closely icily respect authority advises wedding flapped nor pointless cheating tolerated huffed regrets confess serve minimum assigning becoming theme slipping unnoticed what’d gloomy atmosphere desks thumbs-up siren song appreciation art nature clapping earsplittingly shrill whine whale nails chalkboard toddler uncover broadening horizons claiming repentant company brand torture ballroom belva’s sirens dances edwardian claimed valin ponytailed promenade dancers valin’s sweaty chime stars shined brighter spit wickedly slobbery octaves fanned hmm irritated flattered scored points empathy forked smirk ironing holes stack detained increased practicing leaps eyebrow empaths powerful mundane purification vein easiest transmutation lockers traded twenty-seven banging annoyingly caps disqualified chorus groans nonstop cap smurf amalgam telepathic integrity wrote essay betrayal over debate automatic 100 last-minute mentally repeating tips negative vibes stress ethic claim fame skipped skip supportive doubting brag mercifully stalled magenta berries rusty discipline chosen purify ruckleberries fifty-five nasty impurities elderly human’s alchemists methods dive knife pierced berry dribbled pinky haggard glacial quarters

deducted mediocre performance forth whirlwind crack exhausted brutal slamming slumped that’ll public hooks presents spine cards schools hassle babysitters edged obstacle tugging stressing rigid suitable gifts jewelry charms charm twenty-eight unrecognizable streamers shrub toilet-papered tinsel confetti bubbles prizes popping appointment teal-wrapped package uglier hurrying plowing regain literally prying trademark smirks spoken sapphire-encrusted navy-blue intently hairstyle contrasted pristine infamous deflated wilted father’s oily insincerity resigned flame cassius lord performing unremarkably radiated apologies fos er disappointing scores fake critical said: creeps prize-filled prattles dwarf lollipop topple snappy comeback comment loser fails organize overflowing half-empty month misunderstanding shushed slim parcel chiming signaled parent-mentor conferences celebration feast unwrap snatching self ‘dear dance sometime vice president boyfriend rattled reader tease ribbon tapped gadget fingernail speaker thingies coloring dunno disbelief variety edible glosses speckled spider snapper plant fed spiders riddler writes riddle miniature violet thanked showing misty seventy-nine improvement range sensing tomato congratulated comfort sobbing partying included sneer party note: f snap k sugarplums boy-craziness necklace cuffs wristbands vanisher platter customs gelled perfection gym ornate immaculate alvar talks often rumpling fizzleberry wine juggling girlfriends hero beamed piddly quicksnuff emissaries tend conspiracy possibility myself pieced undivided swan’s curve pattern term replied active recently unauthorized investigation frustration twenty-nine alternate spending smelling clues accomplish consumed trapped counting resumed vacation finals received eighty-one eighty-three unacceptable prepared chorused poufy thrown towel drooped oven roasted frosters transmitting charts transmitted peed suffered rested cryokinetics freeze manipulating pyrokinesis mesmers inflictors monitored pyrokinetics inflict fire’s unpredictable truly forbidding pyrokinetic library surely three’s librarian banned archives libraries bust problem: section dire wolves peek promising bins mountain littered haphazardly spaces scan unrolled flip papers helpful lacy dulled childhood: strung lanyards dolls framed bone picture: breathtaking tragedy drinking leftover junk trunks piles unopened bin disturbed murky midterm roll scroll shelf sample starlight moonglade: fireflies flickering stellarscope upside-down spyglass view’s billions wad tag amaranthis memorized fourth lambentine bag spout wider scope knobs cluster dials stiffened lever thumb clinked rubini orroro azulejo cobretola indigeen scratching spectrum rearranged indigo zelenie isolated this’ll bluff scrounging elementine adjusting fidgety hummed shining teared welts frantic thirty-one blackish-purple blisters pot burns sprinkled powder adventure soaking numbs balm miserably regulate temperature palace crown nicer handful roots mutilating blades destroying bashing stubbornness reappeared ointment knelt furrowed fingertip rags longest hottest soapiest griffins discreetly boring-looking firecatching bode bundle solid downright incoherently darkly quintessence fifth element myth truest conditions blow metallic-toned bronze wildly flamed audible unmapped locations merit thirty-two platform thrones remotely procedure involving throne cushions tourmaline sturdy polished dotted onyx heard: clarette velia terik liora emery ramira darek noland zarina flicked mere evacuated three-thousand-year task undisclosed location trial salivating convict straighter dozen marched stationed bodyguards swordlike weapons belts fanfare blasted crowned amateurs seated sapphires shall world’s ungraceful consuming detector fuzzy lying endlessly jell-o hobbled astin’s honesty assigned emery’s argento auriferria pennisi merkariron styggis achromian slower plotting map cowering submit lists convenient judgment frightening hardened remained expressionless mediates telepathically consensus united aspirin unanimous

rise violates actions intentional accountable foster’s involvement addressing agreement millionth wished exchanged dimpling kiddo thirty-three banks sienna bark paintbrushes purfoliage palmae calls pures filter pollution freshest crispest tinge fuzzed hesitation observant instruction lurched sunset farthest councillors’ steadied emerald-encrusted circlet bowed pleasing honor beg refuse descryer response delightfully potential clamoring backfired speaks beginning optional 327 sensed crane sweeping peacock log dream softly regularly useful one-armed fiancé’s projecting vividly replace album dinner’s stroke retracted apology hurting tricks arches replica model thirty-four planted curl plotted page difficulties rivaled protect quieted los angeles hollywood trash conspicuous spider-man batman posed mann’s chinese theatre blended beams issued ‘forgot’ oblivious ourselves stubborn softened unwillingly seeped ‘got of’ ant pavement explore warring hurried consequences captured pleaded mercy prentice’s behalf oversaw shatters society metaphor insurgents rebellion kindest whatever’s decisions encouragement revelations ability-detecting exercises cornered superbusy insistent significant elf-ish onetime played envy tracked master tracking switch spots conspiracies investigating headway ignorance ever: permanently jarred conservation legitimate scientific principle nagging elixir nogginease limbium mineral supposedly resisted bike wheels giddy week’s supply unnaturally syrup absorb nauseating unfastening vest skin’s collapsing allergy dimmed cradling thirty-five fluttered chafed sandpaper wildhaired soothed sensations spectators cleaned vomit upright moaned allergies wits bullhorn’s trite soiled airtight vomiting swollen blotch-free humiliated undershirt noticeably absent dazzling alvar’s raptor disgusting decade spare injected steroids tied budge scolded showers heels crisis ushered deathly tough disasters blankly rests brothy soup elsewhere shadowy comforting yawn snuggled thirty-six squealing hundreds eagle-size pterodactyl somersaulted screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech stability rein speed momentum gained screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech torch pasture dispersed uncannily fried engulfed birdbath sparks jerking possess flareadon fire-resistant replay triggered animal’s cares octave higher killed resting flareadons volcanoes occur gildie strayed ‘flareadon female correcting wade debacle breaks wrestled socks shredded apparent vague emotion animals’ distances qualified lightened results defined iggy’s gildie’s paw tummy reward downy fury paled out-of-breath aura recoiling imperative vital violate risk humiliation fled her: cooperate freezing peered railing partial drifted bars errand thirty-seven mush nights begging blend processing forgetting tearing fluorescent locker: insider’s librarian’s timing shoe absolute librarians plastered sinking confirmed dog-ear chapter everblaze: unstoppable blind thirty-eight paper-strewn something’s ‘everblaze frissyn x stands detailed extinguish overruled excluded unheard indecision warred babies hatch extract unregistered code name: egg cast conventional purpose determine pregnant fertility posing implanted embryo manipulated outstanding retain discovering affects genetic anomaly renegades weapon ‘prodigy illegally forgiving messages suffocating choke word: controlled puppet issue triggers twilight proudly soothe facade crumble table: throaty fix drove wedge messenger delivering seal reseal rampaging limits chaise skimmed bead luminous nonluminous generated lumenite drilled clarify rip grubby paws riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip chunk possession skittered treasure retrieving tattered assess rug glue document accordance canceled thirty-nine heartbeat scrubbing choked-back muffle misery acknowledge gaping owe regardless charade obeying command churn yeti ricocheted ooooookaaaaaaay slinking acknowledging attempting library-appropriate slothlike triple-check echoing phew scrutiny shrug candleshade overhead clipping playlist jarring numbness bass mature speakers bands sarcastic tune swirled seeping cracks triumphed

tiptoed rustled creaked padding crawling lonely forgive forty cheer stricken envelope headline: claims victims scrawl announcement corridor stark-white gulps sneaking suggestions weigh resolve admirer flood applying replacement heal eased uncertainty brothers recent discoveries recording spy undetected textbook dreaded licensed pathfinders restriction threatens ‘everblaze’ accusation fintan pricked balefire fintan’s requires fuel supported cosmic ‘fire ignite conclusive example surveillance ruining depths former dealing approved overrule objection trusted phantom rebels snatched emissary citizen confidential duly noted digging forty-one partly imprisoned sorting reminders pity tension distant lately preparing prejudice megacrush cave commands successful method unwrapping names: connor kate natalie freeman apply permit huddled thinner echoes evacuee note’s unquenchable abandon supporter afar forty-two stashed drawers ‘you threaten chaperone global dumped significance supplied clothing resistant fly willful punish facets stagger hills screeched tying pried displays seals survival glinting corneas swoop thickest raspy coughs locate singeing shift current overcome coughing inferno ouch thrashing clouded watery beads capped treats paced treating scorched angrier contorted squatted pee severe scalding plunked sticky-sweet healthy grim balled-up yelling homes camped affairs mesmerized desperation launching steal dumping tenderness justified reacts offer unintelligible agreeing concerns forty-three relatively illness actress w-what admitting lifeless freaky dumber connections traitorous resisting grasp peace decency furball storm’s appropriate cliff reveling shard clatter soothing relishing pulverized smithereens boulder violent frightened irrational fallen possibly smothered meaty cloaked swooped sickeningly nostrils sedative cursed rallied scuffle scuttled captor circulation rasped viselike lolled rescued forty-four bonds staging unfortunate complication fog scrambling muddled funerals pendants vise sweetness blackness necessary loomed constricted heaving choking gruff hyperventilating suffocates coated hacking nods croaked relocate stolen grunt syllable drugs mist strapped bound shivers eerie breathy wheeze venom trail gumption predicament footfalls disposed disappearance guts throb ignorant cackle toy reserve widen contorting poison ple clarity struggle overwhelming happiness rocked jostling rescuer foggy occasionally elevator altitude delirium parted flimsy fumbling promises caress weary forty-five searing heightened awareness sensory overload barrage cigarette butts alley surveying hideout interrogation kidnappers scoured alexandre desperately operates anyone’s him: upcoming rounded apologized broom peeking roofs yards landmark eiffel gaped graceful paris france french indian saris currency exchange robbing bank machine atm watches account measures ‘make work’ cameras covering buttons alarm bills robbed technopath froster internet café sandwiches cheese once-living boxy computers navigated web browser googled number-one result pont iii bridge seine lanterns shopkeeper sped excitement decorations horizon lamp nexuses lasts mathematics applied dawn forty-six melder stun evening strolls cloaks leader obscurer bends distortion coil rope goons goon pathways underestimate wire enhanced wishful swirl severing rapid duck whizzed seizure dusted flailed gurgling blank forefinger crescent shaped jagged cowl stumble scarred heft frenzy hatred writhing strengthened pumping pulse heavyset figure’s hideouts options battering crushed nearing tug-of-war lessened allowing glorious drift fading surrendered mind’s imagination funeral weariness overtaking hazy snow labored conscious sparkle freedom sweep forty-seven brightness peaceful wove persisted appeal surge newfound pooled aches splintered clearer enveloped strawberry-blond-haired numbing sedated tingles luxuriating gulping wetness numb shhh sniffled recognizing propped girly seasons faltered proves meaningful floppy snickers emergencies conversations flirting scratch

blasts streaking injuries concentration’s cell half-drained gaunt fleeing canceling flitted nuzzling scratched there’d yawned lights forty-eight covers washed sandor goblin bodyguard inflictor paralysis semiconscious incapacitated dormant trauma latent polyglot languages advance interrogated sandor’s bunny seven-foot-tall buffed-out overtime blindfolded seared monitoring proved arrested custody awaiting deaths tragic innocence error motivate condemning madness reluctance single-handedly now’s crescent-shaped recalled epiphany overweight swells digest explains operative guarding subliminal advantage activate developed who’ll address database detectives arson reigned supreme wisest greater questioned decades measure influential amok globe rejected imprison devastated uprooted supporters initiative resign outspoken recruited activity satisfied handled poorly kidnapped prisoner resolved disposal stamped justice voiced revenge birthday birthdays indefinite spans thirteen-year-old crushes plots rebellions grown-ups understands teenager accepted bargain relented insisting uncertain responding arrange forty-nine pedestal charges bylaws sub-bylaws committed transgressions minor tortured regal express safely accused drafting addressed firmly murmurs debated arguments raging attitude disrespectful rebellious overlooked gratitude however static rulers experiences inappropriate assign ‘already served’ sang admission din bursting provisional basis due aforementioned cannot proceed suggestion issues seats smoothing occasion fancier signaling require records indicate provided remain appreciated despised gladly nicely dipped textbooks someday squash toughest earn deserves murderous successfully fingering justifiably displeasure smirking retake propose alternative state events revealed therefore practical prudent career prospects shifting internal logical volatile qualifies majority erupting directing registered cuddly earned oneon-one immediate tangle concluded gathered twirling nudging trades sidestepped congratulate surviving multiple tribunals swirls diamonds feminine unlatch decides woven triply journey

#kotlc

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nats-firefly · 3 months

Text

i touch my phone as if it's your face

natasha romanoff x reader

summary: nat's on a mission every valentine's day. this time she can call you. right?

warnings: none really, just kinda sad

a/n: happy valentine's day to all my long distance gays. i feel your pain. this was something i very quickly put together. vent fic, sue me.

words: 750 | feedback is always welcome | masterlist

divider source | gif source

You smiled at your reflection in the mirror, swiping the tip of your index finger under your lip to fix your lipstick. It had been over an hour since you started getting ready, the anticipation of seeing your girlfriend growing bigger every second that ticked by.

Valentine’s day is apparently a surprisingly busy time for superheroes, in all the years the two of you have been together, Natasha has been away for all of them. But this year she promised you you’d be able to call and have dinner together. She was undercover as some unreasonably rich guy’s assistant like she had been for Tony back in the day. While he was enjoying the night with his girlfriend, she’d have the chance to call you after doing recon in his private study. Allegedly.

Natasha being away meant you didn’t get to talk or text or see her very often. It also meant since this was your first time seeing her in months, you wanted to dress up for her. You even put on a special set of lingerie under your clothes so you could give her a show after dinner.

You had spent the better part of the day preparing for your date with Natasha. You made a hearty plate of pasta, poured yourself a glass of wine. You even lit a candle. Then you waited.

You picked up your phone to check your messages to see if Natasha had said anything.

Can’t wait for our date tonight. Delivered.

She hadn’t texted you back since you sent her that text this morning. You didn’t know which part of the world she was in, but from the small details she’d told you it didn’t seem like she was out of the country. Maybe it was just not dinnertime for her yet. Maybe something was wrong. Maybe she’d been caught.

You checked your phone again, but nothing had changed. Maybe you just needed to get your mind off of it. You took your glass of wine and settled yourself on the couch, putting on an episode of your favorite show. One glass turned into two, which turned into three. It was late at night, so you decided to reheat your cold and forgotten plate of pasta.

As you slumped against the kitchen counter waiting for your food to reheat, your phone screen lights up, followed by the repeated vibrations signaling a video call. Your face lit up and your heart beat loudly in your chest as you clicked answer.

“Baby,” Natasha breathed in relief when she saw your face pop up on her phone. She had been looking forward to talking to you all day. Her ‘boss’ had sent her on a wild last minute goose chase to set up a Valentine’s surprise for his girlfriend. In true rich guy fashion he had done none of the work, but Natasha needed to stay on his good side for a little while longer. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, Nat,” Your finger slides over her cheek and down the side of your phone. Your eyes tear up a bit. Your chest aches and your lip trembles. “I really miss you.”

“Me too, angel,” Natasha says, she notices the change in your expression. She thinks about quitting her job. “Happy Valentine’s Day, malysh.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” You answer. The microwave beeps, but you ignore it, deciding to focus on the redhead on your phone instead. You want to crawl through the screen. Desperation rises in your chest. You don’t know what to do with yourself. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Natasha feels a knot in her throat. She hates being away from you. “Tell me how you’ve been, baby. How’s work? Did that guy in accounting get fired?”

“Oh, Tom? Yeah he-” You were interrupted by a muffled male voice. Then things happened very quickly.

“Oh,” Natasha said, being caught off guard then briefly looking at you with an almost apologetic look.

“Natalie, can you fi-” Call disconnected.

You stared back at your reflection on the phone screen. You got two minutes with her.

You went to bed still wearing the clothes and lingerie that were supposed to end up on the floor that night. With the plate of pasta forgotten in the microwave, and mascara stains on your pillow.

As you numbly scrolled through your phone every Valentine’s day post was like a slap to the face.

Everyone had their someone. Except you.

Happy fucking Valentine’s Day.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x reader angst #bonk.nat #bonk.angst

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floreads · 9 months

Text

baby blues • carmen berzatto x reader

pair: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

synopsis: sugar's childhood best friend throws her baby shower, and is reintroduced to carmy.

a/n: while researching the character ages for this piece i discovered that nothing really makes sense timeline wise for the siblings’ ages, so just for the sake of this fic i decided that carmy is 28, reader is 29, and sugar is 31 <3 also i did not proof read this lmao so sry for any mistakes !

warnings: anxiety/panic attack, lots of swearing lmao, mentions of hooking up but nothing explicit, lmk if i missed anything else <3

word count: 3.2k

"Okay - yo, be careful with the cake!" You run - or wobble, as quickly as your heels will let you - over to the dessert table, pulling your dress down as you go. Running the show in this outfit wasn’t the most comfortable, but you don’t have time to go home and change before the event is set to start. The venue staff wouldn’t let you come in any earlier than 1:00 PM to get everything ready, despite your numerous pleas.

The two-tiered dessert wobbles slightly, as Richie and his colleague from the yet-unopened The Bear restaurant make the short but dangerous trek from the venue door to the row of long tables.

"Relax, Y/N, we got it," Richie waves you away. "Marcus here is a professional." They place the cake slowly, but precisely, onto its display stand.

"It's not him I'm worried about," you give him a playful squint. "Everything has to be perfect for Sugar. She deals with enough, having to see your ugly ol' mug every day."

You turn away from him before he can fire back, and greet Marcus with a quick nod. "It's nice to finally meet you, Marcus. Beautiful work on the cake."

He smiles back at you. "Of course, only the best for Sugar's baby."

That's all you wanted - the best for Sugar's baby. That's why you took it upon yourself to plan Sugar's baby shower. It's something you'd been planning basically your entire lives - ever since you two were old enough to steal your moms’ magazines during sleepovers. You two had planned your entire lives out together, and though the details have shifted over the years, there was one constant through it all: you’d always have each other.

Growing up, you and Sugar were virtually inseparable despite her being a few years older than you. Wherever one went, the other was soon to follow, like a shadow. You never really got along with your own parents, and as the only girl in her family, Natalie welcomed additional the feminine energy. Gone were the days of Mikey and Carmy ganging up on her when you were around. It was, and still is, you and Natalie against the world.

You glance at your watch with an impatient sigh. 2:36 PM. You have less than half an hour before all of the guests arrive, and 54 minutes until Pete arrives with Sugar. You've been there for the last hour and a half getting everything ready for Sugar and her unborn baby, and yet there was one thing missing. Carmen Berzatto hasn't come with the food yet.

"Does anyone know where the fuck Carmen is?" you ask, not to anyone in particular.

As if he was waiting for his cue, Carmy barrels through the door right then, breathing as if he’d just run the mile in gym class. Two women you have yet to meet, presumably from his restaurant that you’ve heard so much about, are right on his heels, helping him wheel in a cart full of food trays and serving utensils.

“Fuckin’ finally. It’s nice of you to join us, Carmen.” You exaggeratedly throw your hands up, walking over to him. This was not the reunion you’d hoped for after not seeing Carmy in years, after what you’d dubbed the incident - one that not even Nat knows about.

“Finally? We’re only,” he checks his watch, “ten minutes late.”

“Ten minutes?! Try an hour and ten minutes,” you scoff, looking at him incredulously.

His eyes widen, and you are slightly taken aback by just how blue they are, though you don’t know how you could’ve forgotten. His face reddens and you aren’t sure if it’s because of the intensity of your gaze or his embarrassment at being late. Before you can think too much into it, he’s turning to look at Richie.

“What the fuck, Cousin, you told me she said 2:30.”

Richie turns to you. “I thought that’s what you told me to say!”

The biggest sigh, possibly of all time, leaves your body and you cover your face. “No, Richie, I told you to tell him to be here by 1:30.”

“You know, I seriously fuckin’ doubt you said that, but maybe next time you should just call him yourself.” Richie counters.

“God fuckin’ forbid I accept help when you offer it! But don’t worry, I’ve learned my lesson, ya fuckin’ jagoff,” your teenage accent comes out for a second, as always ends up happening when you argue with Richie.

Carmy, who knows the way you and Richie fight all too well after witnessing it through your teenage years, steps in between you two. “Alright, alright, it doesn’t fuckin’ matter who said what anymore. What matters is we’re here now and I need to set up this food ASAP.” He turns, giving you his full attention. “Y/N, where can we put this food?”

You send Richie one final glare before turning and leading Carmy to two long tables at the front of the room. “You’ve got these tables right over here. The venue gave us some food warmers, I’m sure you can figure out how to set those up better than I can. Be fast, Berzatto, we’ve got less than an hour before Sugar gets here and if anything is out of place, I’ll kick your fuckin’ ass.”

“Heard, Red.” He gives you a curt nod and moves to grab one of the trays of food before pausing so slightly that you know no one noticed - no one but you. He recovers quickly though, and it’s as if nothing happened.

Your pause, however, is much more notable. No one has called you Red since Mikey died. Though the nickname was just the result of an unfortunate at home, box hair dye job at 15 (you were experimenting with your look - they can’t all be winners, okay?), it solidified you as an unofficial member of the Berzatto clan.

“U-um, I guess I’ll just leave you to it then,” you stammer out, busying your hands with your phone to hide their trembles. As if she can feel your discomfort, the girl with the long braids tucked into a scarf walks forward, between you and Carmy, and offers you her hand to shake.

“I’m Sydney, by the way, Carmy’s CDC at The Bear,” she smiles. “And this is Tina, my sous,” she gestures to the smaller, but older woman next to her.

You take her hand and introduce yourself, mentally berating yourself for not introducing yourself earlier. It’s not like you to be so rude - the stress of planning and executing a surprise baby shower for your best friend paired with the unnerving feeling of seeing Carmy for the first time since Natalie’s wedding must be getting to you. It may not be your place, but you’re still a little mad at him for skipping out on Mikey’s funeral and dropping contact with you altogether.

“I’m sorry! I swear, I’m usually not this all over the place. This whole thing’s got me goin’ a little crazy,” you gesture around the room. “Y’know, I’ve been meanin’ to get over to The Bear - it’s all Sugar’s been able to talk about lately. Besides the baby, of course. I was outta town for friends and family night - visiting my grandparents.” This was a lie - if Carmy was going to ignore you, then you were going to ignore him. Though, you know you’ll end up in the establishment one of these days now that Sugar is so involved.

“Well, I’m sure Carmy and Natalie would love to have you in one of these days.”

Your eyes flit to Carmen while you give Sydney a tightlipped smile and nod. You try not to let the awkwardness between you and Carmy show when your eyes meet. While you’d normally make some snide remark about how Carmy doesn’t have room for you in his life anymore, you remind yourself that today is about Sugar - not whatever problems you have with her younger brother.

You take a deep breath and clap your hands together, wearing the kind of artificial smile that only the cheerleading protagonist of an early aughts teen drama would give. “Maybe someday!”

Sydney and Tina exchange a look that you pretend not to notice.

“Well, I’ll just leave you guys to it then! The guests will be here any minute, so I’m gonna do one last walkthrough. Everything’s gotta be perfect,” you mumble the last part to yourself.

3:27

You’re chewing on your bottom lip, eyes bouncing between the venue’s big analog clock and the party’s guests, consisting of The Bear’s staff and the entire Berzatto clan (besides Donna - while Pete was in charge of the invites, you’d made sure that he didn’t invite her) when your phone vibrates in your hand.

Pete: The eagle is flying.

Your eyebrows furrow.

You: wtf are you talking about dude???

You: can u text me like a normal person rn, im about to have an anxiety attack

Pete: Me and Nat are outside!

You look up, eyes wide.

“Everyone, shut the fuck up! Hey, shut the fuck up! She’s here!” You shout, gesturing around wildly. It’s a little hard to get the attention of the loudest family of all time. Thankfully, Carmy sees you struggling and steps up to the front of the room with you.

“Yo! Sugar’s here!” His voice fills the venue, and everyone gets into place in front of the overflowing gifts table. “C’mon,” he motions you over to the front of the group with him. You can hear Sugar before you see her.

“Seriously Pete, where the fuck are you taking me? I’m way too pregnant to be blindfolded right now. Plus, there’s shit I gotta do at The Bear.”

“We’re almost there, relax,” Pete says with a clear smile in his voice as he opens the door and guides Sugar into the room.

The room erupts with an out of sync “Surprise!” and Sugar rips her blindfold off immediately, looking around the room in disbelief.

She turns to Pete and hits him lightly on the chest, “What the fuck, Pete? Is this my fuckin’ baby shower?”

He leans in to give her a kiss with his hand resting on her baby bump, and the moment is so sweet you have to look away.

“Yeah, Nat. As much as I’d like to take the credit, Y/N was the mastermind here.” He gestures over to you and Sugar runs over to you, squealing.

The two of you hug as tightly as you can with the baby between you as she thanks you repeatedly. “I can’t believe you did all this!” You give her one last squeeze before letting her go.

“You know I’d do anything for you, Sugar. Plus, I gotta make sure baby Berzatto knows how much I love them already. I’m campaigning hard for that Godmother spot.”

“Psh,” she waves you off. “You already know you’re a shoo-in. Who else am I supposed to have as the Godparents for my first born if not you and Carmy?” She scoffs and moves on to greet her brother.

The relief you feel as Sugar gets smothered with love by her family and friends is visible on your face as you make your way to the small bar and pour yourself a generous glass of wine. Now that Sugar was here and having a good time, your job micromanaging was done. You see Richie make his way over to you, pouring a drink of his own.

“Ya did good, kid,” he gives you a pat on the back as he watches Sugar and Tiff animatedly talking.

“Yeah, no thanks to your attempts at sabotage,” you joke. What was that with you tellin’ Carmy the wrong time?”

“I refuse to accept that, there’s no fuckin’ way I gave Carmy the wrong time. Anyway, if you two would just grow the fuck up and talk to each other-”

“Okay, don’t even fuckin’ go there, Richie,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “You know damn well I’ve tried to talk to him. If there’s anyone you should be lecturin’’ about this, it’s him, not me.” You pause to finish your drink. “Believe me, I’ve fuckin’ tried.” You pour yourself a new drink, smaller than the first. No matter how much you want to be drunk right now, you need to keep a clear head in case anything goes wrong.

“I don’t know what that kid’s problem is,” he gestures to Carmy, slightly shaking his head. “It’s like tradition for the maid of honor and best man to hook up at a wedding. Who fuckin’ cares?”

Your eyes widen and you aggressively shush him. “Wha- keep your fuckin’ voice down, asshole! How the fuck do you even know about that?!” You whisper-scream at him, positioning yourself in front of him instead of beside him.

“Chill out, Cousin, Carmy told Mikey, and Mikey told me,” he shrugged.

“Mikey told you- so you’ve known this whole fuckin’ ti-” your sentence tapers off at the sight behind Richie. You can feel your heartbeat speed up and your hands begin to shake. “What the fuck is she doing here?” You march off towards the entrance, on a mission.

Richie’s eyebrows pinch together as you stomp away. “Who the fuck are you talkin’ about?” He turns, watching you approach the one party crasher that could ruin this day: the Berzatto family matriarch. “Fuckin’ Donna,” he mutters to himself.

Before you can reach Donna, she’s already shouting into the room. “Oh my God, look at this beautiful Berzatto family event. Oh - everyone’s here!” You can practically hear the incoming drama in the tone of her voice. “Too bad it seems like you motherfuckers forgot to invite me,” she laughs humorlessly. “It’s a good thing Jimmy let it slip to me that Sugar’s baby shower was today. It’s a grandmother’s right to attend her first grandbaby’s baby shower.”

You hold your hands out to her as if she was a wild animal, waiting to strike. “Listen, Donna, you cannot be here right now.” She grabs your arms.

“Oh, Little Red, you used to love coming over to my house. I fed you, housed you when your own parents didn’t want to. You’re so ungrateful… that’s probably where my kids get it from,” she stumbles closer to you, and you can smell the alcohol on her lips. Before you can reply, Carmy is stepping between you guys, taking her hands off of your arms.

“Hey, Ma, that’s enough. Don’t talk to her like that.” His voice is stern, but you can see the tremble in his hands.

She grabs his face, gently. “Oh, Carmy. I don’t even know you anymore. When was the last time I saw you, huh? You never come to see me.” The tears are flowing freely on her face now.

You glance behind you, looking at Sugar just in time to see Pete whisking her away to the kitchen, and out of Donna’s line of fire. At the same time, Richie is walking up to Donna. He puts his arm around her and leads her out the door. “C’mon, D, I’ll call you a cab. You should go home and go to sleep.”

She pushes him off. “Y’know what? Fuck you Richie. Fuck all of you people, you don’t care about me at all. I’ll fuckin’ leave. None of you will miss me anyway.”

You take a step towards them, but Richie holds out a hand in protest. “I got this, Red, don’t worry about it.”

As Donna turns to the door with Richie hot on her heels, you gingerly place your hand on Carmy’s shoulder. “Hey, Carmy, come outside with me,” you slide your hand down his arm, take his hand, and lead the way towards the back door. He doesn’t look up, but follows you closely without saying a word.

The stark winter air is refreshing, though you’re sure that you’ll regret the decision to come outside without a coat. You pull Carmy down to sit on the cool steps with you, and place your hands on either side of his face. You can feel him hyperventilating as your eyes meet his, his eyes wet with unshed tears. You resist the urge to look away. It’s been years since you’ve helped Carmen through a panic attack, and the memories are almost strong enough to cause your own tears. “Carmy, you have to breathe for me, okay? Here, try to match me.” You begin with the box breathing technique that you learned when you were teenagers. You take a deep breath in. One, two, three, four. Deep breath out. One, two, three, four.

In. One, two, three, four.

Out. One, two, three, four.

Carmy’s hands grip yours, hard, as he tries to match your breathing. “Just look at me, Carmy. It’s just you and me here, okay?” He nods and then closes his eyes, feeling the movement of your breath.

You can’t tell whether it’s just a few moments, or ten minutes before you feel Carmy calm down, but he eventually opens his eyes and his grip on you loosens. You let go abruptly, as if his skin was a hot stove.

“I- sorry. I’m sorry-” he starts, but you refuse to let him apologize for having a panic attack.

“Don’t, Carmy. You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

“I do, though-” he starts again, but you shake your head.

“C’mon, Carm. I know we haven’t talked in a while, but you know better than to apologize to me for having a panic attack.”

“That’s not- I’m sorry I didn’t call you. I’m sorry I didn’t answer when you called, either. And I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you when Mikey died.” Oh.

You can’t help but look away, smoothing away the nonexistent wrinkles in your dress. “Carmen…” you trail off, not knowing what to say. “Let’s just leave it in the past. I think we’ve both been through enough today, yeah? It’s not important anymore.” You give him a tightlipped smile and move to get up.

He lets out a frustrated sigh, grabbing your hand. “No, it is important. I was a jackass. To everyone, but especially to you. I don’t want you to think that you were just- that what we did wasn’t-” he breathes out, running his other hand through his disheveled curls. “You’re important to me, okay?”

You give his hand one last squeeze before letting go and wrapping your arms around yourself. Whether it’s as an emotional shield or because of the cold, you don’t know, but this is all becoming too much for you. “I know, Carmy. It’s okay, really. We don’t have to talk about it. Actually, I would prefer it if we didn’t. It’s been years, we’ve both moved on. I heard about you and Claire, and I’m happy for you,” you give him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, and he can instantly tell it isn’t real. “Let’s just pretend none of it ever happened, and we can go back to who we were before. For Sugar’s sake, okay?” You give him a single nod, as if you were agreeing with yourself on his behalf, and go back inside before he can respond.

He leans back on the step and pulls out a cigarette, before talking to the air: “Okay.”

dividers credit ! <3

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #*mine #carmen berzatto x reader

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thisismeracing · 5 months

Text

CHARLES LECLERC MASTERLIST

✦ CHARLES LECLERC ▶ CL16

All my Charles posts here

▸ main masterlist | patreon guide ▸ taglist ▸ who I write for & guidelines ▸ subscribe to Patreon for exclusive content ▸ tip me on ko-fi

KEYS: s: smut f: fluff a: angst ✷: Patreon exclusive

― ✦ SOCIAL MEDIA AU

this is the last time I ever call you babe (a): It’s been a little over a year since Y/n and Charles Leclerc ended their relationship, and Y/n went radio silent from everywhere…until the Grand Prix day. They say revenge is a dish better served cold, right?

everything has changed (f): Y/n, a famous singer, drops a song that is more like a letter confessing her feelings, and some fans are convinced it’s about F1 golden boy Charles Leclerc.

his pretty girl (f) : Fans start to notice Charles around an influencer’s profile and it's easy to put two and two together to discover just how in love he is.

match winners (f): After mentioning in an interview that she roots for Charles Leclerc, Yn is surprised with a new follower who happens to show up at one of her tennis matches.

sunshine (f): In which Charles starts dating an earthy/spiritual girl who just loves nature and good energy.

my boyfriend Marc (f): In which Yn always refers to her secret boyfriend as Marc and fans take forever to put the pieces together and realize that many of the names she used were actually Charles Leclerc’s middle names.

his protector (f): Yn is a comedian, who happens to date the f1 driver Charles Leclerc and who loves to joke around about how horrendous Ferrari is, but beware: she is the only one who can laugh at her boyfriend’s disastrous races. No one pokes fun at Charles in front of her, especially not on live TV.

all because I liked a boy (a): Yn fell in love with Charles and secretly dated him for almost a year. She didn’t consider, however, how fans would react seeing they used to love and still stan Charles’ past relationship. What happens when their hidden love gets out in the open? ● part 2 here

just like in the movies (f): You’re shooting a new movie about racing cars, but you did not expect to get a racing heart from a certain driver. Or the one where they met at a racing track and fell in love.

king of manifesting (f): You’ve been secretly dating Charles for a while, but fans can’t believe it when the rumors start to go around. What do you mean a vroom-vroom Ferrari guy is dating their idol?

a real goal getter (f): When fans see Charles at one of your soccer matches, they start speculating what he is doing at a stadium he’s never been to, talking to a guy he never talked with (who happens to be your best friend). When they discover you’re together, they agree you’re the best player, but Charles is the goal scorer for landing someone as amazing as you.

― ✦ BLURBS

you betrayed me (a)

Overprotective bf (f)

― ✦ REGULAR IMAGINES

honeymoon stunts (s): Charles and Yn just got married, and although they know too much about one another, there’s always something new to discover together, such as Charles’ new breeding kink.

the (un)lucky one (f): Charles and Yn have a history back from when he was at alfa romeo, Yn used to be his PR assistant, and they were close to best friends. Now, years later, they are still friends, but Yn is Carlos’ assistant now, and she can help but root for her new friend and boss. Meanwhile, Charles is having trouble with no longer having her undying support all the time. He’s been through an unlucky season on the speedway, will he be unlucky in love too?

anything you want (s)✷: After getting hit by a wave of bad luck, Yn takes matters into her own hands to make her boyfriend feel a bit better about his situation. Sometimes all you need to feel brand new is a two-day vacation full of sex by the fire and words of affirmation.

love bites (a)✷: It is believed that during the Halloween season, cursed souls and entities come out to play. As it happens, some of them can come uninvited, but things get a lot easier for the dark side when people like Yn are challenged by her friends to go beyond the safety of the town and into the woods looking for a cursed church. One wouldn’t want to be near to witness humans discover history they’re not supposed to.

charlieverse (f): When Yn decided to go to a Halloween party with her best friend, Charles Leclerc, she did not consider that some of the fantasies would be so close to reality that they would terrify her. But one thing Yn had no idea about too, was Charles’ feelings for her. All Hallow’s Eve is not the most romantic scenario to confess your feelings, but it might be just the perfect one for them.

― ✦ HEADCANONS

♡ charles dating a korean girl

#cl16 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 fandom #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #op: masterlists

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ilguna · 5 months

Note

Can you do finnick with the number 13 ?

☼ too close (Finnick Odair) ☼

warnings; swearing,

wc; 2.6k

prompt; 13. fake engagement au

notes; made this a modern au as well. also, too close by alex clare was the first thing that popped in my head... but it’s not a songfic!!

At this point, you think that setting yourself on fire and standing still while the skin melts off your body would be less painful than the conversation you’re having with Finnick, Annie and her boyfriend, Rain. At least then, Finnick might pay attention to you.

In the past fifteen minutes, you don’t think he’s taken his eyes off of her once. He won’t even look in your direction when you speak. It’s like she’s the center of his room, all the time. You thought that when they broke up a year back, he’d change, figure out the world doesn’t revolve around her.

He can find other things—other people to invest in.

You didn’t realize just how much he loved her, especially when he was so casual about it. He wasn’t compelled to spend every waking moment with her. They’d make plans, of course, but it wasn’t as frequent as it could’ve been. In fact, he spent more of his time with you.

It has something to do with how long the two of you have been friends. Ever since you’ve graduated high school, there’s never been a time where either of you have gone somewhere and the other didn’t follow. If there’s a pair of people on this dying planet that are attached at the hip, it’d be you two.

While you thought Finnick would be hurt when Annie broke up with him, you were under the impression that it wouldn’t bother him much. Not with how sparsely they’d been seeing each other in the weeks leading up to it. It was partially his fault, because he stopped making time with her, but that happened because she’d shoot down every attempt.

And then she did it. Finnick told you that she showed up at his apartment, on an evening where they’d planned to have dinner, wanting to talk. She started by telling Finnick that he was amazing, and the best boyfriend she could’ve asked for, but they didn’t share the same interests, and she needed someone who was more like her.

She wanted to see other people, and she couldn’t find herself committing her life to Finnick, knowing that they weren’t a perfect match. It was harsh, and brave of her. Personally, you think that it was a stupid decision, because they’d been together for over a year and a half.

She didn’t give Finnick any room to talk, canceled the dinner, and left.

The next time they saw each other, you were asked to be there as a mediator, per Annie’s request. It was a little odd, because she knows full well that you care more about Finnick than her. Though, over the time of them dating, you’ve grown to be better friends with her.

You felt a little bad for Finnick, but with how long you’ve been rooting for their downfall, it was like your prayers were answers.

Finnick’s reaction to the whole ordeal took you off-guard. You knew that he’d need recovery time, you just thought that he’d bounce back after a month or so. That’s what he’s done with his girlfriends in the past, you had no reason to believe that this time would be different.

Well, she rocked his world, hard.

And it’s clear that it was selfish of you to think that you could pounce on him. That’s why you were punished about three months later. When Finnick came to you in the middle of the night, sobbing because Annie had announced a new relationship. It tore you to pieces, listening to his feelings, how he thought she didn’t wait long enough.

The next morning, you found him wide awake on your couch, eyes puffy, bags beneath them. You opened your mouth to ask him if he’d even slept, when he told you that he’d come up with a plan, and he needed your help.

He wanted to make Annie jealous enough to leave her new boyfriend, Rain. The issue is that she’d never had a problem with any of his girl friends before. Except you. He said that there had been a few times where she mentioned how she wished she had a better connection with him, like you have.

The more he spoke, the worse it got. And when he asked if you’d be his fiance, you couldn’t help the way you looked at him. It was nothing close to adoration, it was resentment, because you’ve dreamed of him asking you plenty of times before. In those fantasies, you were actually together because he loved you. Not because he couldn’t live without another girl.

You knew he was desperate, he’d mentioned it before. You never thought that he’d ask you to do something like this. You were sure it was a joke, one that you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh at because you were too stunned to move. When he looked at you and you saw the expression on his face, you realized that you’d given him more credit than he deserved.

Finnick begged you for an hour straight, telling you that he couldn’t trust anyone else to do something like this for him. You’ve been best friends since you were teenagers, you knew that he wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t important to him. When you didn’t agree by the time he left, he told you to think about it.

And it ate you up inside. Every last word of his. The look on his face. The years you’ve been waiting for an opportunity. And so, you stupidly thought to yourself, “Well, maybe this is how I get a foot in the door.”

You texted him later on the next day, thinking that this pretend engagement couldn’t possibly last longer than a month. If Annie had a scrap of love left for Finnick, and as much jealousy as he was saying she did, she’d come back. It wouldn’t be immediate, but she’d come and prove that he was still hers, even if they weren’t together.

When Finnick told Annie that he’d gotten engaged to you, after discovering a slumbering love, she had the opposite reaction than what you thought she would. The smile that spread over her face lit up her eyes, she was genuinely happy for the two of you.

You knew from that moment forward, it would be like swallowing poison everyday, because you’d have to lay it on thick in order to convince her. A part of you didn’t believe her happiness. It had been three months and a week since she and Finnick broke up, and you were suddenly engaged to him? With no prior mention of the two of you dating?

If you were her, you think you’d be more worried about him cheating the entire time, because that could explain the quick ring. Finnick thought of that, too, telling her that the two of you have been around each other so long that you skipped the dating stage.

Stupid.

You wanted to do this for him, though. You wanted to still be the person he could trust the most, afraid that he’d pull away if you denied this request.

And so long for sticking your foot in the door, because eight months later, he hasn’t shown an ounce of affection toward you. He’s stuck on Annie, and that’s where he’s going to stay, because she’s not budging, either.

“So, (Y/n), have you decided what season you want to get married in?” Annie asks, she’s got her eyebrows raised, looking at you between the pasta on her face.

You give her a smile, even though you’re growing tired of the questions about the wedding. You have to come up with reasonable answers that you’ll have to write down later to keep from forgetting. She’s caught you a few times.

“We were thinking about spring.” You tell her, reaching over to place your hand on top of Finnick’s, trying to make it convincing. “Isn’t that right, Finn?”

Finnick turns his attention to you, finally, gazing into your eyes with a dimpled smile. If you didn’t know that this was for show, you’d say that there’s something more between you than just air.

“New love and all.” He murmurs, fixing your hands so he can hold yours to squeeze it.

A flurry of butterflies rise in your stomach, swirling around your heart.

“Spring?” Annie echoes, a little surprised. Despite wanting to stay here forever, you tear your eyes from his to look at her. “I’ve always said that’s the perfect season to have a wedding.”

I know, you want to tell her, because Finnick told me.

“Really?” You ask. “Well, I hope there’s no hard feelings if we use it first?” You ask.

“Of course not.” She waves her hand, “I wouldn’t want to come between the two of you.”

Finnick’s hand loosens around yours, something you were prepared for.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n),” Rain starts, “Is there any way we could take some of this home? It’s getting late.”

“Of course.” You slip your hand from Finnick’s, rising to your feet. “I have the rest in the kitchen, if you want to come and tell me how much you’d like.”

“That sounds amazing.” He nods, leaning over to press a kiss to Annie’s lips, before getting to his feet, too.

You glance at Finnick, hoping that he’s looking at you. He’s not, his attention is completely set on Annie. You place a hand on his shoulder while you move around your chair, causing him to reach up to grab your fingers. Almost a natural reaction, if it wasn’t planned.

You move your hand before he touches you, heading through the dining room doorway and into the kitchen. The stove is on the far side, the pots and pans still sitting on top. Rain follows behind you, you can hear his footsteps on the tile.

“I’m not really one for leftovers, so please take as much as you’d like.” You tell him, opening one of the bottom cabinets to grab a container. You sit it on the counter, as well as the lid.

“What about Finnick?” He asks, you shake your head, closing the door. “He’s got his own food, at his apartment.”

“That’s right.” Rain says, grabbing the noodle scooper, taking off the lid on the pot. “I forget that the two of you aren’t living together yet.”

“It’s because of his lease.” You shrug. “It’s coming to an end soon, though. We’ve agreed he’ll move into my place.”

Rain lets out a laugh. “I would too, honestly. You’ve got such a nice house. Your parents bought it, right?”

“Yup, and gifted it to me when I moved out here. I was supposed to share it with Finnick in college, but he wanted an apartment so it wouldn’t be weird when he brought girls around.” You tilt your head, looking off to the side.

“Now look at you two.” Rain smiles. “You’ll get to share it, after all.”

“Yeah.” You murmur.

Once he’s loaded the container, and promised that he’ll bring it back to you next week, you two join Annie and Finnick back in the dining room. The second you step inside, you can tell that there’s something goin on, but Rain must be oblivious, because goes to take his coat from the back of his chair.

“Well, thank you for the dinner, (Y/n).” Annie says, joining Rain. “I’m excited to see what you’ll cook next week.”

“If you have any requests, let me know.” You wink at her, she rolls her eyes.

Finnick walks them to the door, while you begin to pick up the plates from the table. You can hear the door shut, and that’s when the air begins to get heavy. With them no longer here, there’s no need to keep up the act. Which means that Finnick will go right back to talking about her.

“I think I had her for a moment.” Finnick says, coming in with armfuls of plates and glasses. “When you went into the kitchen, she told me that she missed me. That was a great idea, (Y/n).”

You bite your tongue, back turned to Finnick as you turn on the sink.

“At this rate, I think she’ll leave him soon. She told me that they’re not as happy as they look.” He sets the dishware next to the sink, pulling out the trash can to scrape away the waste. “I’ll get her back in my arms, soon.”

You lean over the sink, closing your eyes while you take deep breaths. An ache is forming in your throat, tears appearing in your eyes. You grit your teeth, trying to tell your body to knock it off, because now’s not the time to cry. You save it for when Finnick leaves.

This isn’t right, it’s not healthy to be doing this to yourself.

“Then we can go back to normal.” Finnick says, bumping you with his shoulder. “I owe you, (Y/n).”

You back off of the sink, reaching for the engagement ring that’s been passed around his family for generations. The one you thought that would one day belong to you. You grab his wrist, turning his hand over, and placing the ring in his palm. He looks down at it for a second, before at you.

“You know I don’t need this back, I trust you to keep it safe.”

“I can’t do this anymore.” You tell him, throat closing in.

His eyebrows twitch. “No, (Y/n), we’re almost there. Just a few more weeks—”

“I don’t have a few more weeks in me, Finnick! It’s killing me!” You burst, throwing a couple plates into the sink. You shut off the water, walking out of the kitchen, shaking your head. “I just—when I agreed to do this, I thought, ‘this won’t be so bad’. I thought this couldn’t last more than a month, yet here we are, still going.”

“I told you it’d take time.” Finnick says, following after you.

You lead him to the front door, stopping next to it, hand on the handle. “I thought my feelings for you would go away if I gave myself a taste of what I could have.” You admit, Finnick’s face drops, skin paling. “It’s fucking ruined me. I can’t do this with you anymore, because you don’t love me. And I want to throw up my heart each time I see you look at her like that.”

You open the front door, shoving it open. A fall breeze blows through, pushing a few golden leaves into your house.

“(Y/n), why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because it’s written all over you.” You motion at him. “You love Annie, and there’s nothing that I’ve done in the past eight months that have made you change your mind.”

Finnick stares at you, shaking his head.

“Go.”

“If I leave right now, you won’t talk to me ever again.” Finnick tells you. “You said that nothing would change between us if you did this for me. You said it wouldn’t ruin our relationship.”

“I lied.” You tell him. “Now, go.”

He sighs through his nose, “I’m going to come back.”

“Doesn’t mean I’ll open my door.” You push his shoulder. “I’m serious, leave.”

He doesn’t say anything else, stepping onto your porch. You take a few steps toward the door, reaching out to grab the handle, face beginning to contort, body having enough. Finnick turns around in time to catch the first tear fall, before you slam the door in his face.

You turn the lock, head dropping as the first sob leaves you.

this was part of my 3k celebration!! also, you didn't specify a list so i went with the mystery list :))

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punkpandapatrixk · 4 months

Text

Full Cold Moon in Cancer ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card

Happy New Year~!🍀It’s January already but, gosh, aren’t we all still preparing for the spring equinox this year🍓That’s when the real new year begins, aenergetically~🎍

The Full Cold Moon on 26th December carried a theme surrounding Home and Hearth. It touches on our IC (Imum Coeli) and 4th House in our natal chart. The IC tells us who we are when no one’s watching, and after we become super clear about that, it helps us realise what kinds of company are legitimately good for our sense of belonging in this mortal world.

Your IC can literally shed light unto the reasons you feel alone and separated from the people around. The Full Cold Moon in Cancer—ruler of the 4th House—invites us to take a look at our sense of familyship whilst being incarnate on Earth.

People on this Planet have been struggling with an immense sense of loneliness since the introduction of social media; isn’t that strange? How is it that the more people we’re able to connect with the more miserable we feel on the inside? Well, isn’t it clear that social media has helped us become more aware of what’s truly FAKE when it comes to human connections?💍

Our IC deeply craves real familial connections. Moving forward, wouldn’t you rather entertain soul-based friendships that really care about your wellbeing as a Human being? This Cold Full Moon in Cancer, you’re invited to once again die to everything and everyone that doesn’t make you feel seen, heard, respected, or wanted👻

Fake connections, whether online or offline, can go fuck ‘emselves🥢

[Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – The Choice to be Free Has Always Been Yours to Make

i d e n t i t y – Knight of Pentacles

Others may think you are mad, but you of all people know there is method to your madness. More than everybody else gives you credit for, you’re actually somebody who’s very strategizing. You are careful with your plans and you think very many things through before you execute your plan. Others simply do not understand this mechanism in your brain because you’re quite unique, quite unorthodox even. This Full Cold Moon, you are invited to ponder if the source of your misery is actually other people’s beliefs about you rather than your actual incapability.

Just because you’re following a strange path of your own doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong. Weirdos throughout history have changed societies for the better. We should all be thankful to weirdos—and especially, WITCHES. Did you know that WAY TOO MANY of our advances in science and medicine were actually done by witches? They burnt and hanged the witches and took credit for all of their hard work. Tsk tsk tsk… I raise my cup to all y’all witches who’s working to blast open new pathways for the rest of Mankind🍸Keep doing you. Keep going because spring will surprise you with loads of delights~🍬

s e r e n i t y – Queen of Pentacles Rx

You’re a helpful soul, that much is apparent. But you’ve got to learn some discernment so that you don’t get taken advantage of very easily. What the Queen of Pentacles in reverse is trying to show you is that, unfortunately, too many people in this world don’t even deserve to be helped. Not by you, at least. Unless you’re getting paid for rehabbing messed up people, let them deal with their own mess and grow up from it. Ultimately the Queen of Pentacles Rx is cautioning you against letting messed up people in your inner circle because these types of people are gonna bring their mess into your Life.

You get to decide, with your skilled discernment, who’s worth helping, fighting for; who’s worth keeping because they give you just as much affection. If, in order to keep serenity in your world you must look like a stingy bitch, let it be. Be selective with who you give your time and money to. Make sure you aren’t sucked dry of spiritual aenergy yourself. Your Higher Self and team of Spirit Guides are saying, this whole winter you’ve got shit to manifest—big, big shit. Preserve your precious aenergy so you can manifest real, long-lasting results~!🌳

f a m i l y – 8 of Cups Rx

Having said all of that, this card is saying: don’t easily walk away from things and endeavours that you know from deep within your heart matter. I think you’re so dreamy and floaty that you could have a hard time being realistic when it comes to the physical manifestation of your real desires. You could think, since they’re unrealistic, you might as well give up and choose to focus on other more pragmatic pursuits. If you must leave, leave the people and environments that don’t support your heart’s desires—don’t leave the desires and end up becoming very unhappy with yourself! After all, with your already methodical mind, you actually have all the power in you to bridge your dreams to Reality.

That’s why, honey, the freedom to be free has always been in your mind. Now you’ve just got to make the right decision—what kind of freedom is real freedom to you? The freedom to choose to kowtow to societal expectations or the freedom to walk your own path no matter how lonely (at first)?

‘If you end up with a boring miserable life because you listened to your mom, your dad, your teacher, your priest, or some guy on television telling you how to do your shit, then you deserve it.’ – Frank Zappa

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Art and Romanticism Have Always Been an Important Part of Your Heart

i d e n t i t y – 9 of Cups

You have many dreams, but if there’s one thing, you’ve always dreamt to be independent, doing your dreamy things in your dreamy space. I think you’re the kind of person who’d be considered a quiet eccentric. You have many interests and hobbies, and you’re quite sensitive about having your me-time uninterrupted. I think you could erupt if someone walks in on your serious activity and startle you or if someone in your family tells you to go and do something in the middle of your reading. That kinda vibe. You’re quite a loner, actually. You’re super weird tho XD Do you maybe identify as an autistic kid, fam?

Anyway, please know that this Full Cold Moon is inviting you to ponder more deeply about your place amongst Humans. I have a feeling you don’t really like Humans or at least, you find human interactions absolutely exhausting, for the most part. If you know this blog, you know already how much I prize individuality and being alone if it means peace of mind and faster manifestations LOL BUTT!! In this reading, I’m getting that many of you may want to ponder yet again how you interact with people, especially those closest to you because sometimes, there really are people who care about your wellbeing more than you realise.

s e r e n i t y – 10 of Cups Rx

Many of you choosing this Pile probably haven’t got a nice family background. Of course, there are a million scenarios for each person but for the most part, I sense that you’ve felt familial connections to be emotionally unsatisfying. That’s why you seek emotional fulfilment in this multitude of hobbies and interests. Clearly you’re a very intelligent person, that much I’d like to iterate. And so, this reading seeks to validate your feelings about your eccentricity.

Art and all those dramatic things have always been integral to your sense of identity. I really think you should indulge, as long as whatever dramatic things you enjoy aren’t detrimental to your mental or physical wellbeing. If you happen to be the type that’s already doing detrimental things in your pursuit of an emotional high, this card is suggesting you pause breathe and eat before you go after another round of pursuing that high.

f a m i l y – Page of Cups Rx

When you’re pausing, you can cry. Accepting our emotions and acknowledging that they make us Human usually comes with a sense of grieving for all the ways we’ve thought ourselves as being in the wrong. There’s not a thing fundamentally wrong with you, it’s the people around you that have made you feel like you can’t communicate with them with striking vulnerability. And if these experiences have caused you to bear a lot of dark thoughts or negative emotions, I’d like you to know it happens to the best of us.

You could literally turn your pains into art, if anything. If you’ve chosen this Pile as your main pile, know that the pain you’ve experienced through human connections could be turned into art and that your Art has the capacity to heal those who come into contact with its backstory. And this, totally will have a significant place on the world stage because, as you can see, human interactions in recent years have gotten weirder and weirder in some capacity. So many people are hurting from getting disappointed by the…government and celebrities? LOL

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

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Pile 3 – Princess Kaguya, Is That You?

i d e n t i t y – 2 of Cups Rx

At the core of your being, you’ve always been different in that your heart is a lot purer, your morality is criminally significantly higher, you’re compassionate and can empathise with people on a level that’s beyond the comprehension of most others. The way you’ve experienced this Human Reality is incomparable to what most others have known. Basically, you’re an alien! And that’s an incredibly modest thing to say about you.

What you genuinely wish to see manifest in this world is vastly more high-vibrational than most people would even care to think about. I hope you accept that you are genuinely such a good person when you’re in your best element. What’s really difficult to maintain is your faith in people, for the most part, because you haven’t really met anyone who’s capable of giving their heart to you as deeply as you’ve given yours. This whole experience has broken your spirit and faith in a lot of things.

s e r e n i t y – 9 of Pentacles

And thus, you’ve carved out a Life of your own, quite separate from most people you’ve ever known. I’m sure you’ve burnt a lot of bridges up until just recently, and I sense, many of you simply know there’s still a few more to burn going forward. This is your confirmation that you’ve done the right thing. In this Human world, too many people buy into the idea that to be good is to be social; but you’ve experienced firsthand that that’s often not the case. You know firsthand that many people’s demons get activated by some weird connections to other people’s demons. And you don’t like that.

So you made a decision to walk away from most aspects of social life and worked your butt off to polish your skills. Some of you have spent many years studying; some of you have spent very many months working on a glow-up; some of you have deepened your spiritual prowess and connected to higher realms; basically, you’ve died and become a ghost… Springtime will bring you the resurrection you deserve, bitch!🎍

f a m i l y – King of Cups

About your Soul Fam though, I feel that travel is highly indicated for you. Some of you, you could be meeting a Soul Fam member during travels, but for the majority of you, this aenergy is giving the idea that you’re literally meant to travel the world or live abroad, perhaps even for the rest of your lives. Highly advanced souls can often have a narrative in which they’re expected to die on a land different from the one they were born into. So, if you’ve been thinking of moving to a different country or state, this is your confirmation that it is indeed part of your soul scenario.

Thanks to modern travel, it’s so easy for highly advanced souls to connect with their true Family members from different countries and that’s something we’re glad about LOL If you’ve ever wondered whether you’re going to die alone and sad, that’s totally not the case. If anything, you have so many Soul Fam members who are going to be just as highly spiritual, profoundly dreamy and vastly empathetic as you are. You’re going to be very glad when the time comes for Soul Families to reunite in the upcoming couple of years~ YAY~!

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

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