#come visit america again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yanaromanov · 1 month

Text

pretty little beginnings

- professor!natasha x lawyer!wanda x reader

part summary: the start of the new semester sees you reunited with your best friend, kate, but also introduces you to your surprisingly gorgeous new professor. when you get a perfect score on her first class test, she’s keen to have a conversation with you…

part warning(s): teacher/student relationship, age gap (r is of age), power dynamics, married wandanat (no cheating), pet names, mentions of anxiety, mentions of bad family relations, reader is a perfectionist, minors dni.

authors note: i have no idea about america or their universities so am purely basing this off my own experience at my uk university, so if anything is incorrect i apologise but also let’s just pretend it’s not :)

part one of the inescapable love series

inescapable love masterlist

･｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･

7.8K words

The beginning of term was always one of your favourite points of the whole year. To most, returning to campus after summer was somewhat of a bittersweet moment, having to come back to the reality of long classes and endless studying. For you, however, it was the start of something new, a fresh look at different courses that hadn’t yet bundled up into countless assignments or exams. The start of term always carried the least amount of pressure and therefore, the least amount of anxiety. Everything was starting from page one again, and it always provided you with a few weeks of sweet relief before you’d once again inevitably realise just how stressful school truly was.

Aside from the pressure of classes, most of your peers also found sorrow in the end of their summer break visiting home and their families. For you, however, this wasn’t one of your mind’s concerns. In fact, the trip back to university provided solace, a well-deserved partition between the people who you’d spent the past few months trying to tolerate.

Now, to say your family were awful to be around would be overstating things, in truth they weren’t all that bad, but spending summer with them was certainly not on your list of dream holidays. Most days you hid away in your childhood bedroom, trying to avoid the bickering voice of your mother, persistently droning on about school and your grades. She’d always taken a great pride in her children and that had certainly extended to you, her ideologies of perfection constantly looming over your shoulder. Your dad liked to drink, not enough to endanger his health but enough to wake you a few nights a week when he’d stumble around the kitchen in a drunken stupor. This itself was rather a hypocrisy, your dad being the one who dragged everyone to church on a Sunday morning to praise the Christian values when it seemed the holy day was the only one he didn’t seek out the bottle. At least now you were thankful that Sunday was the only day you had to deal with your older brother, when he’d join the rest of your family at service. For years, his perfection had been a constant reminder of how you were the disappointing child, despite attending one of the most prestigious universities in America.

In fact, your family was one of the main reasons you had even applied there. Not, as one may think, to appeal to their standards, but in fact, because it was about as far away as possible you could get from them. England was your home country, growing up in a small town in the southern parts of the land. Moving to America had been a big deal, having to completely relocate your life to an entirely different part of the world, but it had been something you desperately needed. At first your mother had been hesitant to let you go at all, but once she’d heard the ranking of the school you’d earned a scholarship for, she was all for having a daughter at a prestigious university in the states.

So, that was how you ended up here, already three years into your university career with only one to go until graduation. Living in America had been just the step you’d needed, finally giving you space from your overbearing family and in the process, also gifting you with one of the closest friends you’d ever had. Kate had been the first friendly face you’d seen at your new school, smiling widely as you’d first stepped into your shared dorm and energetically shaking your hand. Ever since, the pair of you had been practically inseparable, growing closer and closer everyday, and three years later, you still found yourselves sharing a dorm room.

Despite Kate’s skills in friendship, there was one thing about her that one may call a character flaw; the inability to ever wake up on time. It was the first official day of the semester, a few weeks having passed since the two of you had had your happy reunion and redecorated your shared room. The sun shone through the curtains which you had opened almost an hour ago. In all honesty, it was quite impressive how Kate had managed to not only sleep through your alarm, but hers as well. Atop of that, you’d not taken the curtesy to get yourself ready in a quiet manner. Now however, Kate really needed to wake up.

A tress of black hair flew up in the gust of wind that the pillow brought along with it. Moments later, Kate was sitting up quickly, cursing out at you for throwing at her in the first place. You chuckled at her antics as she tried to wipe away the hairs clinging to her mouth. “You overslept, Bishop,” you called, voice light and playful.

Kate scowled back at you, finally free from the mess of her bed head. Seconds later, you were dodging the pillow flying back across the room towards you.

“Hey!” you called back, narrowly missing getting hit in the head. “You’re the one who told me to wake you up, remember? You said this was the year you were getting your shit together.”

Kate’s expression was nothing short of unimpressed. She let out a loud groan as she threw herself back down into the confines of her bed, bringing her hands up to hold her face. “Can we reschedule that to next year instead?”

The chuckle that left your lips was light. “You know there is no next year.”

Your hands reached out towards her, grabbing hold of her duvet and ripping it from her bed. A small scream escaped Kate’s lips as she desperately tried to rescue the cover, albeit she arose unsuccessful. You passed her a small smirk as you threw the duvet to the floor. “If you’re not ready in five minutes, I’m going for breakfast without you.”

The girl passed you a none-too-happy glare but eventually settled on rolling out of bed, groaning loudly as she fell ungraciously to the floor. Simply laughing off her antics, you moved towards the full length mirror that hung in your dorm to check your outfit one last time. The warm weather still clung to the September air, resulting in the floral summer dress you’d adorned for the day, a small white cardigan sat atop of it. As always, your worn-in converse sat upon your feet, tattered from the years they’d spent traversing you to class.

American weather was just another one of the things you loved about living in the states. Summer in England was sticky and gross, the house always too hot, lacking AC and unbearable to sleep in at night. You’d always end up tossing and turning, sweat sticking the shorts to your body. Every street smelled like disposable barbecues and there never seemed to be enough ice in the shops to cool your drink. Overall, it was a rather uncomfortable experience. But Summer in America was a whole different story. It felt like the movies when they’d jump out of school on the last day, sun shining down on top of them. It was warm outside, and you could enjoy the sun before slinking back to a cool room with beautiful air conditioning, rather than you’d dad’s old fan that was louder than an airplane flying overhead.

“Are you almost done?” You finally turned away from your reflection, glancing across the room to where Kate was pulling her hair up into a messy ponytail. She’d dressed in a pair of old shorts and tshirt, obviously forgoing the ritual you’d followed of dressing cute on the first day.

“Yep,” Kate replied breathlessly, moving to put on her trainers, hopping around the room as she pulled them on. Once they sat upon her feet, she stood upright and looked at you with a dopey smile. “Okay, let’s go.”

You smiled shamelessly back, opening the door to your dorm in order for the pair of you to venture out. Kate simply passed you a small thanks as she slipped out into the corridor, followed closely by you after locking up your room. Thankfully, most days you left together as Kate never seemed to remember that crucial step.

———

“Wait, so you’re actually taking Russian this year?”

Your eyes rolled as the question rung out. “Kate, we’ve talked about this so many times.”

The girl shrugged her shoulders. “I just don’t get why you’d take a random language, that’s all.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you watched Kate take a bite of some scrambled eggs. As she did most mornings, she’d chosen to load her plate up from the breakfast trays, paired perfectly with a full glass of orange juice and a large mug of coffee. On the other hand, you’d only had a slice of toast, simply buttered, then a coffee of a similar size that you’d already downed. For someone who liked to attend meals so close to classes, one would expect Kate to choose smaller portions that she could maybe finish without shoving it in her mouth two minutes before she had to leave.

“I told you, Kate,” you repeated with another sigh. “I had to pick up some credits and the only thing that fit with my timetable was either Russian or a programming class.”

Your face screwed up at the last words you uttered, the idea of such a thing enough to turn your nose up. Kate could have taken some offence, considering her major was computer science and she was in such programming class, but it seemed she was too focused on finishing her half-eaten eggs.

“I thought you said there was a Spanish class you could take?” Kate said, talking around a mouthful of food.

Your eyes rolled in your skull, not only at her actions but at the fact she’d only remembered that small detail of your previous conversation. “There was,” you replied, crossing your arms on the table. “But I just thought Russian sounded more interesting.”

Kate raised a brow as you shrugged a shoulder. She didn’t have much time to judge you however, as you checked your phone to see there was only a few minutes until your first classes. Kate scrambled to finish the food on her plate as you collected your things, downing the rest of her coffee before pulling her backpack on to her shoulders. In the end, she had to run after you out of the dining hall after you’d already left, not letting yourself be late because of her antics.

The pair of you walked across campus together, Kate branching off to her first class and promising to meet up at lunch. You continued on to the building in which your timetable indicated your Russian class would be held. It was all rather new to you, a building you’d never been in before on campus. You supposed it fit with the class that you’d be taking now, stepping into something entirely new.

Thankfully, you found the lecture hall quickly, not discouraged by your unfamiliar surroundings. A lot of the seats were already filled up, the class just a few minutes from starting. You found a space down near the front, a usual spot for you in your determination to never miss anything a lecturer was saying, persistent on never having a blank spot in your notes.

The remaining minutes passed as you set yourself up for the class, pulling out your notebook and pen and setting them neatly on the desktop. Remaining students filed in, filling up what had to be one of the smaller lecture theatres on campus. It seemed there were barely thirty students who had decided to take the class, a small number compared to your usual large English lit course.

Noise bubbled in the room as the clock ticked by. At the exact second the hour struck, a door to the left opened wide.

“Good morning. If you could all settle down now, please. I need to take attendance.”

All attention fell upon the person who walked through the door, silence befalling the room as their voice echoed through the hall. As your eyes lifted from the scribbles on your notebook, they too sought out your new professor, but what they found was certainly not what you had been expecting at all.

The woman that approached the desk at the centre of the room was perhaps the most gorgeous you’d ever seen. Her hair fell perfectly in cascading curls, a brilliant red draped across her back. She wore a pair of black slacks, paired with a light blue dress shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. Her heels clicked meticulously across the polished wood as she set a laptop down at the centred desk, opening it up and glancing down at the screen.

It seemed you were not the only person affected by this woman’s presence as the entire hall fell silent as she began to call register. Most professors at this school were old men, droning on about things tirelessly. Even when presented with a female professor, none ever compared to the power and lure that this woman seemed to radiate across the class.

Once she’d finished calling names and assured everyone was marked down correctly, the red-haired woman moved towards the front of her desk, leaning back against it as a pair of arms came to cross over her chest. Your eyes found particular interest in the very expensive looking watch that sat upon her left wrist.

“Okay, my name is Professor Romanoff, as you have probably seen on your timetables. I will be your teacher for this class on introductory Russian.”

All ears seemed to be on the professor as she spoke, her voice confident in the space it held.

“I will start off by saying that this class is not easy so if you have taken it for that reason, I suggest perhaps changing.”

A tight smile appeared on a pair of red painted lips as the professor continued talking, the curtness behind it clear.

“This class is not impossibly difficult but it is certainly not a free ride. Anybody who treats it as such, is likely to fail.”

You weren’t sure what it was, maybe something in the air, but your attention seemed to cling to everything that fell out of the professors mouth, practically drinking up every word that she said. Your eyes found themselves particularly focused on her lips, adorning a shade of red so perfectly you even questioned if they were naturally that colour.

Professor Romanoff continued to rattle off expectations for the class, bringing up exam dates and testing styles before discussing an outline of everything the class would cover. Your pen jotted down everything she said, almost working faster than your brain could keep up, that ever persistent need to be perfect taking over once more, just like it did every time the new semester rolled back around.

Overall, the class seemed to be mostly an introduction. Professor Romanoff outlined specific topics you’d cover, before beginning to teach the difference between the English and Russian alphabets. Whatever it was she said, every word was jotted down into your notebook with persistent attentiveness.

The class seemed to pass by quickly, the order to pack up echoing out earlier than you thought it would, but with a quick glance at your phone, you realised that an entire hour had indeed passed. You tidied up your belongings, throwing them all into the old backpack you carried about everywhere, then got up to follow the crowd out of the lecture theatre. Your mind found itself satisfied with the enjoyment of the class, finding everything taught very interesting. Some part of you even found yourself somewhat excited for the next time you’d dawn the building and Professor Romanoff’s class.

———

“So how was it?”

Kate’s words were out of her mouth before you’d even sat down at the table, delayed in joining her by a few minutes due to your English professor droning on too long in his lecture. A sigh escaped your lips as you finally set yourself down at the dining table, throwing your backpack underneath as you looked over at your friend.

“How was what?”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Your Russian class,” she replied, as if it was the most obvious thing ever said.

“Oh, right,” you replied, reaching for the cutlery on your tray and using it to begin cutting the omelette you’d picked up for lunch. “It was good.”

Kate raised a brow, obviously more curious than your answer could satisfy. “Just good ?”

You nodded in response, raising a single shoulder. “Yeah, good. It was really interesting.”

Kate hummed, taking a bite of the chicken burger she’d chosen for lunch. Like she often did, the girl spoke around her food to ask you another question. “How was the professor? Some old Russian guy?”

Unsure of exactly why, it felt like your heart gave a little flutter when Kate mentioned the professor, maybe it had something to do with the way you’d spent most of the lesson staring at her and thinking how beautiful she was. “Uhm, no actually,” you replied, taking a small bite of your food. “It was a woman. Quite young looking too.”

Kate’s interest seemed to be piqued, a single brow raised. “How young?”

You shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know how young. Like, thirties? I don’t know.” You shrugged again, unsure of how exactly to answer her question.

The girl across from you hummed. You could tell why it was a suprise to her, it had been to you too when you’d first laid eyes on your new teacher. Most professors at this university were very good at what they did, but that often came with the experiences of age. A younger professor was an uncommon sight.

“What was her name?” Kate asked, still chewing another bite of her burger.

“Romanoff.”

Kate hummed. “And she was any good?”

“Yeah,” you replied lightly, trying not to think too hard about the way her red hair had formed perfect curls. “She seems a little strict but she’s a good teacher.”

“Well, that’s always good I suppose.”

From there, Kate seemed to become disinterested in the professor, instead moving on to discuss a cute girl she’d seen in her programming class. You’d asked more questions but the pair of you knew Kate would never do anything about any crush she had, she would get far too nervous and stumble over all of her words any time she tried to talk to anyone. Many times you’d watched her fail to flirt with someone drunkly at a party, accidentally blurting out something stupid that caused the other person to turn away. Each time you’d end up giving her a pat on the back and assuring her she’d get the next one, both of you secretly knowing it probably wasn’t true. Nevertheless, it was fun to fantasise about cute people you saw on campus and Kate often liked to share all the things she’d like to do with someone if she could actually talk to them.

Your conversation slowly passed on to other things, talking over activities you both did over summer, but sooner than you’d like, the time came for you to both head to your next classes. You both packed up your things, tidying away your lunch trays before heading out of the dining hall and across campus, Kate giving you a very dramatic goodbye before disappearing into her coding class and you slipped away to criminology, some part of your mind still clinging on to the idea of alabaster skin and perfect red curls.

———

The semester kicked off quickly and before you knew it, you were already three weeks in. Your time had been spent flitting between your classes, keeping consistent with your notes and readings. That fresh term feeling still resided within you, positivity and interest radiating through you in each of your courses. Though your creative writing class remained your favourite, your new Russian elective had quickly climbed the charts to take spot number two. Something about the language simply drew you in, perhaps how different it was to English, but every class seemed to suck you in entirely and leave you eagerly awaiting the next one.

Through Kate’s complaining, you were exceedingly glad that you didn’t pick her programming class, the professor apparently loading far too much work on his students. Though, you were never sure how much of the complaints could simply be down to Kate’s dramatics. The pair of you continued to spend your free moments in each other’s company, talking over every meal and studying in the library. You made the most of the disappearing sun, basking in the last of the summer warmth on the campus lawn, your head stuck in a book while Kate napped next to you.

You’d also easily picked up your part time job once more, the manager of the campus coffee shop reminded of your hard work the past three years. The job itself was usually rather tiring, filling up your weekends and free mornings, but it paid for your food so you knew it was a necessity. Thankfully, the lingering warmth had meant the shop had remained rather quite so far, not too many people racing for a hot coffee while the sun still shone down from above. Your experience however, let you know that in just another few weeks, you’d have to pick up the pace and things would get increasingly harder as the temperature began to drop. Yet, for now you basked in the calmness that the summer brought. But one person in particular seemed determined to change that.

Kate stumbled around the room, grabbing different outfits from the closet and trying them on, before deciding they were no good and tossing them on to the floor. She’d never been a very quiet person getting ready, usually singing along to whatever band she found interesting that month, but at that exact moment, you wished she’d sometimes find a slightly calmer routine.

Your head hurt, most likely from dehydration. It had been a long afternoon shift at the coffee shop and it seemed summer was giving everyone one grand goodbye, bringing the temperatures soaring and consequently, leaving you with a very sweaty shift. Now you were back in the dorm, showered and in some light pjs, hoping to finally get started on the work you’d been thinking about all day. But someone seemed destined to distract you. Your eyes fell to Kate, desperately trying to find a top to match the current skirt she was wearing. “I hope you’re gonna clean that up,” you said, glancing at the mess of clothes on the floor.

“‘Course I will,” Kate replied, pulling another top from a drawer. “Ugh, why does nothing look right!”

You glanced once again to the girl, taking in her current appearance. “Wear the silver top,” you said nonchalantly.

Kate began rummaging in the drawer, knowing what you had meant and what to look for. She pulled the top out and tried it on, looking at herself in the mirror and letting out a pleased hum. “Looks good, thanks.”

She passed you a grateful smile and you simply passed one in return, merely thankful that she’d stopped making such a fuss while you were trying to work. Your body turned back towards your desk, eyes falling back on to the open notebook in front of you.

“I really can’t convince you to come tonight?” Kate’s voice whined as she touched up her makeup in the mirror. “It’s always super boring without you.”

“I told you already,” you replied, not looking up from your notes. “I can’t go to a party, I have to study.”

Kate sighed loudly. “What are you even studying for? It’s only the third week!”

“My Russian class. I have a test on Monday.”

Your roommate blew a gust of air from her mouth, the repel evident. “You still have all of tomorrow to study.”

“You’re right, I do. And I intend to use all the time I have.”

Despite still looking at your notes, you could see the eye roll Kate gave you. “Whatever, loser,” she called, grabbing a bag to take with her. From behind, you could hear her pulling on a pair of heels, which would probably end up in her hands before the night was done. “I’ll try be quite coming in,” she said, reaching for the door.

“Keys?”

“Shit.”

The noise of scrambling filled the dorm once more as Kate rummaged about in her backpack for her set of keys, an item so frequently forgotten about. You heard them jingle in her hands before being slipped into her purse. Then, she said her actual goodbyes and slid out of the room, finally leaving you to study in peace. You released a relieved sigh as silence fell back over the room and you allowed your eyes to scan the Russian letters and grammar scribbled out across your paper. Whatever party Kate was venturing to that night, it wouldn’t be the thing to keep you from studying, your mind entirely focused on the terminologies written in your notes and determined to commit every piece of it to memory, no matter how long it took.

———

Natasha loved her job, truly she did. In fact, she’d given up her career of lawyering to begin teaching, something about it always drawing her in. But one part about her job that she didn’t enjoy as much, was marking papers. Although it was an integral part of her role as a professor, it seemed marking always held tedium in the never-ending correcting of answers and decoding of illiterate handwriting.

A low sigh escaped her lips as Natasha circled yet another grade atop of a paper, a red ‘D’ followed by a smaller ‘62%’. It wasn’t a surprise to her that most of the grades were on the lower side, especially for her introductory class, the highest so far reigning at a 73. It always took new students a while to get used to the new alphabet and syntax that Russian carried, their grades reflecting that sometimes up until the midterm. Papers like this were Natasha’s least favourite to grade, constantly having to mark down corrections for spellings or grammar, and usually taking up more of her time than she’d like.

The smell in the kitchen at least worked to brighten up her mood, the soft aroma of a home cooked meal fluttering straight from her nose and down to her anticipating stomach. Wanda always loved to cook and each night Natasha loved coming home to eat whatever she’d stirred up for that night. Her wife dotted around the stove top as Natasha sat across the breakfast bar, two stacks of papers sat next to her. Her mind was hoping by the time she was finished marking, Wanda would have dinner ready and the two could finally relax for the night.

Determined to get finished, Natasha reached for another paper on the stack, briefly brushing over the student’s name before beginning her marking. The usual first questions went expectingly well, but as the test slipped into slightly trickier territory, it seemed the common errors that Natasha had grown so used to seeing, were entirely absent. As each question progressed, Natasha found herself becoming continually bewildered at the perfect answers provided on the paper. At the very end, flipping over the last sheet of paper on to the counter, she lowered her eyebrows in confusion. “Huh.”

Wanda’s head raised from where it sat looking down at a pan, now gazing over at her wife with an inquisitive look. “What is it?”

Not answering immediately, Natasha flipped through the test once again, looking over the many check marks next to every question. Slightly confused, she closed the paper, looking up to meet her wife’s eye. “Some student just got a hundred percent. Like, a perfect score.”

Now it was Wanda’s turn to look a little shocked, her brows raising as she leaned across the counter. “You think it’s legit?”

Natasha shrugged, the scenario playing in her mind. “I mean, I monitored everyone whilst they took it. Nobody looked to be cheating.”

The taller redhead let out an almost amused hum. “Impressive. What’s this outstanding student’s name?”

The paper flicked back to the front cover, Natasha’s eyes flitting over the name scribbled on the top of the sheet in neat handwriting. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

Natasha’s mind searched its archives for any mentions of the name, its presence feeling familiar on her tongue. She fell back to taking attendance, specifically on the first day of class. The name had rung out in the hall and a small voice had picked up to answer it. Natasha remembered her amusement at the English accent she’d heard radiating across the room, originating from a young girl in a pretty summer dress near the front row. It seemed some part of her mind had locked in the gentle smile that accompanied such a sweet voice.

"Cute name," Wanda hummed, moving to stir her pot before her recipe could burn.

"Yeah..." Natasha's eyes remained on the sheet in front of her, scanning over the name and conjuring images of the face that matched with it. "I just don't know how she could have done this perfectly." Her fingers flipped through the pieces of paper, eyes scanning the work written in black ink. "I mean, everything is exactly how is should be. Even her cyrillic is written neatly."

Wanda let out a low hum as she continued fussing about with the stovetop, her answer coming out rather nonchalant. "Maybe she's in the wrong class? Was supposed to enroll in one of your others at a higher level?"

The proposal had already flashed across Natasha's mind, the work in front of her seemingly too good for someone of beginner status. There was always something wrong, some letter they'd missed or some word in the wrong order, it was never this perfect. Her mind had scoured back to previous years, trying to remember if she'd taught her before, but the name sounded too unfamiliar, and besides, she would have recalled that distinctive cute accent that this certain student possessed. "Maybe," Natasha replied finally, turning back the paper to the front. "But I don't see why she wouldn't have swapped out already. I mean, she would have had to have noticed by now, right?"

Wanda licked the small spoon in her hand, tasting her dish before tossing the metal away into the sink. It always amazed Natasha just how much of a multitasker her wife could be. Still adding things to her meal, Wanda tossed a comment over her shoulder. "Well, there's only one way to find out. Talk to her."

The idea washed over Natasha, already present in her own mind. The curiosity of the situation was pulling her in, already wanting to know more about this mystery student. As she thought of the girl in her head, more interest seemed to curate within her. Seeing that adorable smile she'd caught each time she'd called attendance, hearing that charming little accent that followed her name being called, something about it all drew her further in than one may expect, in ways perhaps unrelated to the test in front of her. Excitement and curiosity brewing in her, Natasha looked up to smile at her wife. "I think I will."

———

Today was not a good day for you. Not only had you forgotten your water bottle back in the dorm, but it was also the first day of the semester you’d be receiving back a test. It was only a small one, one that wouldn’t dent your final grade enough to matter, but that didn’t mean you hadn’t spent hours studying for it. You should have known that the peaceful calm that followed the start of term wouldn’t last forever, but it seemed every year the reality of things slipped your mind and you suddenly felt the anxiety crashing down on your shoulders a few weeks in.

Aside from a small introductory piece you’d had to write for creative writing, this was your first proper assessment of the year. As you sat in the lecture hall, waiting for class to begin, your mind flooded over everything you’d done to prepare, the hours of studying you’d put in, thinking back to the questions and if there was anything you could have possibly misread. Your foot tapped quickly against the floor as you pondered the possibility of a bad grade, particularly the berating that would follow from your family if they ever found out. You tried your best to settle your anxiety as the minutes ticked by, assuring yourself that you’d put in all the effort you could, a good grade surely waiting for you after all your hard work. But when the doors to the hall opened and your professor walked in, the pit in your stomach only dropped further.

“Morning everyone,” Professor Romanoff called out, briefly glancing across the class. In her hands you could spy the laptop she usually carried, alongside the stack of test papers you’d be receiving back very shortly. Your heart continued to beat in your chest as attendance was taken, voice slightly shaky when it came time for your name to be called.

“Right,” the redheaded woman said, closing down her laptop after finishing the register. She reached for the stack of papers in her desk as she stood, moving towards the front of the class and looking out. “As I said, these tests are mostly just a baseline to let me know you’re all on track. Though, if you are failing, maybe come see me and we can have a chat about why.”

With that, Professor Romanoff began towards the class, calling out names and passing out tests. You tried not to look as she walked up the isle next to you, the first time close enough to touch. Mostly, your eyes remained on the desk in front of you, mind reeling at the possibility of failing. You wouldn’t fail, right? You’d studied for hours.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

A low voice brought your head up from its position, mind dragged from your thoughts and thrust back into the present moment. Your eyes raised to see your professor suddenly stood in front of you, her stare focused upon your face.

“Yes?”

A tight expression appeared on the redhead’s face, almost a smile but not quite reaching her eyes. Her fingers slid your test paper back towards you, face down against the desk. Your eyes flickered down to it before returning to her gaze. “See me after class, please.”

If there were any words you wanted to say, your throat tightened to prevent them from escaping. Before you could even comprehend what she had said, Professor Romanoff was already moving on towards the next student. Your eyes followed her momentarily, then darted back towards your upturned test. You failed, your mind screamed at you. You must have failed.

Tentative fingers reached out towards the paper, your heart preparing for the first ‘F’ ever written on one of your tests. You were already thinking about how you’d have to explain this to your parents, how you’d let it settle within yourself. The paper flipped over, the red writing of your grade distinct at the top of the first page, but when your eyes fluttered over to it, they did not find what they had been expecting mere moments before. Instead of a giant ‘F’ like you’d been anticipating, the paper held a large ‘A’ on the front, then beside it, in a smaller circle, a 100% mark.

Your eyes almost couldn’t believe what they were seeing, mind more relieved than any time you could remember. Almost at once, your body had relaxed, that small smile appearing on your lips like it always did when you did well. You hadn’t failed at all, in fact, you’d done the complete opposite. Maybe this day wasn’t going as bad as you had anticipated. But then you remembered your professor’s words.

See her after class? What could that possibly mean? Your mind suddenly became erratic again, the anxiety taking control and catastrophizing every possible scenario. You were unsure how you felt with the idea of spending time alone with Professor Romanoff, suddenly worried she may have the ability to read minds and would be able to tell how much your mind had floated back to her face over the past few weeks.

The thoughts in your head were so loud you didn’t notice when your professor first began going on the test. It was only by question four you’d caught on, suddenly snapping back to reality and trying desperately to join back in with the class seamlessly. It seemed, however, that your mind still couldn’t concentrate, entirely focused on the conversation the red-haired woman in front of you had requested to have.

Your eyes fluttered around the room, glancing at the other students to perhaps gage how everyone else had done on the test. Briefly, they fell upon the desk next to you, spying the ‘56%’ scribbled on to the top of the test paper that sat there. When your eyes raised to the girl it belonged it, she passed you a quick scowl, making an eye to the perfect score that sat in front of you. Feeling far too seen, your eyes snapped back to your own paper, hoping that said girl knew you weren’t at all judging, though by her face, it seemed those were her exact thoughts. For the rest of the lesson you vowed to keep your eyes glued to your own paper, too scared of what they might find in the faces of those around you.

Eventually, your professor’s words began to drown out, overtaken by the lingering anxiety clouding your mind. Before you knew it, you’d spent the entire hour stuck inside your head, rethinking every possible scenario that could possibly occur after class. Now, you were forced to face the reality as Professor Romanoff dismissed the class, requesting papers be returned to her before anyone left.

You watched from your chair as a line of students all placed their papers in a stack on the side of the wooden desk. Slowly, you began to pack away your things into your bag, trying not to draw attention to yourself any more than necessary. When you stood, you clutched your test close to your chest, hiding the score away from anyone who might have passed you a look any similar to the girl previously sat beside you.

As the line of students dwindled down, all turning to leave the lecture room, you slowly approached the desk at the centre of the room. The last of your class let the doors swing closed behind them just as you reached the wooden surface, leaving you in the room entirely alone with your professor. You watched her from behind as she wiped the chalkboard clean, erasing away any remnants of the previous lesson.

The air felt so thick you could choke on it. Your mind told you to make yourself known, clear your throat or something, but it seemed you were almost frozen in place. Only when Professor Romanoff finally turned, did you even move at all.

“Ah, Miss Y/L/N.”

The woman dusted her hands against each other as she began to close the gap between the two of you. Both of your eyes met each other, her gaze locking on to yours as she walked back towards her desk and sat down on the edge of it. You swallowed harshly as you danced on the balls of your feet, your irrational thought of mind reading suddenly coming back to you. But Professor Romanoff didn’t say anything towards the sort, instead, simply extended her hand out towards you, palm facing up to the ceiling.

“Oh, right,” you stumbled, handing over the test paper which she had just previously been looking at. It was slightly crumpled from being pressed to your body but the woman seemingly took no notice, simply glancing over it before returning it to the pile of others on her desk, a low hum escaping from her lips.

When her eyes turned back to meet yours, you suddenly noticed how green they were, never having been so close as to regard them before. Blazing emerald gazed back at you as your heart pounded in your chest.

“This is a very good paper, Miss Y/L/N. I’ve never had a student get a perfect mark on one of my tests before.”

As Professor Romanoff’s voice caught your ears, your heartbeat only seemed to quicken its pace. Something in her gaze felt scrutinising, the small curt smile on her lips enough to practically drag your next words out from your mouth.

“I-I didn’t cheat if that’s what you think. I swear.”

It was spilling out before you could stop it really, words tumbling over one another in a desperate attempt to plead your case. That had been the conclusion you’d drawn from this scenario, the reason you’d been asked to stay back in the first place. But to your surprise, Professor Romanoff simply raised a skeptical brow. “I never said you cheated, did I?”

Suddenly you felt very warm, like the wonderful AC you always gushed about had instantaneously disappeared. “No-I just-I-I mean-“

The words tumbled from your mouth, barely coherent. They were quickly silenced when Professor Romanoff raised a hand, passing you a look you couldn’t quite decipher.

“I don’t think you cheated, Y/N,” the professor said after a moment, lowering her hand once more. “I’m just curious as to how you achieved such a high score.”

You felt a little stupid, mind too ahead of itself like always and blurting out the first thing it thought of without even thinking properly. Professor Romanoff’s words washed over you and you picked up on the question present, thinking over your answer briefly before shrugging your shoulders. “I just studied, I guess.”

That perfectly sculpted brow raised once more. “Studied?” Professor Romanoff seemed to look you up and down, gazing at the way you picked at your nail beds anxiously. You stopped immediately when she seemed to notice, instead moving to hold your hands behind your back. The professor moved her eyeline back up to you once more, a curious expression now taking over her face. “Have you taken Russian before?”

You shook your head. “No.”

Professor Romanoff let out a low sigh, adjusting herself on the table where she sat. She was once again wearing a pair of fitted slacks and polished heels, partnered today with a short-sleeved white blouse. From this distance, you could tell the material was silk. You tried not to stare at the woman’s exposed arms as the came to cross against her chest, and more importantly, at the slight cleavage on show that now pressed higher as she moved.

“It’s highly unlikely for a beginner to get a perfect score on a test,” your professor said, eyes meeting yours. “Especially so early on.” The air seemed to grow thicker as the redhead leaned in closer towards you, her gaze narrowing ever so slightly. “So if you’re lying to me, sweetheart, I’d appreciate if you didn’t.”

The name hung heavy in the air, hammering at your lungs as you stood under the woman’s scrutinising gaze. Suddenly, you felt warmer, your heart rate picking up even more as the words of defense began to stumble from your mouth once again. “I-I swear I’ve never taken it before. I-I just-“ You swallowed harshly, trying to regain some of your composure. "I looked at the syllabus over summer and maybe taught myself some of the basic concepts is all. And I did some extra reading, but I just wanted to be prepared! I haven't actually done Russian properly before, I promise. I-I just-"

Professor Romanoff raised her hand once more, silencing your stuttering. "It’s alright, milaya," she said, a small smile now spreading across her lips. "Calm down." The Russian was recognised by your ears but not your mind, left untranslated in the conversation as the redhead continued to talk. "You’re not in any trouble. I was just curious"

The gentleness of your professor's voice was enough to settle you down, suddenly feeling foolish for blurting out like you had. You took a moment to breath, looking down at your feet as they swayed you back and forth. "Right," you said, voice now quiet in the near-empty room.

When your eyeline raised to Professor Romanoff once again, she was still looking back at you with that gentle smile, her eyes soft under the light. After a moment of her gaze on you, she released a small sigh, reaching back to place a hand on your test that sat at the top of the pile. "This is very good test, though," she said, nodding her head towards you. "You should be proud of yourself."

The praise washed over you in a wave of warmth, spreading across your cheeks and down the back of your neck. It wasn't often you received recognition for your work, it certainly never being enough back home, so you never really learned how to properly cope with it without your face embarrassingly heating up and a dopey smile appearing on your lips. You tried your best to hide these now, looking back at the redhead in front of you. "Thank you, professor."

The woman smiled, unbothered by the way your fingers had moved to begin fidgeting with the zip of your hoodie, desperate to find something to distract your flurried mind. "I assume you have another class to get to, Miss Y/L/N?" Professor Romanoff stood up, now looking down on you from a few inches above, her heels adding even more height so that you had to slightly raise your head from where it had been to look up at her.

Your head nodded. "Uhm, yes I do."

The redhead began to collect the papers that sat on the side, adjusting them into an orderly pile. From behind the desk, she smiled over at you. "Well then, hurry along. I wouldn't want to make you late."

Your head nodded again, more frantically this time. "Of course." You adjusted the backpack on your shoulders before turning away, headed towards the door to your right, but before you could reach it, Professor Romanoff's voice called out again.

"And Y/N?"

You turned quickly, facing her desk once more with an awaiting expression. The woman met your eye, the smile on her lips different now, almost what one could mistake as a smirk. She looked over at you as she said, "Keep up the good work."

For the third time, you nodded, feeling yourself heating up again. "I will," you replied, smiling sheepishly. "Thank you again, professor." And with that, you turned and reached for the door, rejoining the rest of the world with a blush on your cheeks. As you headed towards the exit of the building and on towards your next class, your mind tried desperately to think about anything other than the way your professor’s arms had looked pressed against her chest, or more noticeably, how sweet the nicknames she had called you felt upon your ears.

#inescapable love au #professor natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader #platonic kate bishop x reader #lawyer wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader

650 notes · View notes

yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere · 4 months

Text

new favorite video, yes!!❤️🤍💙 #RWRB #RWRBMovie #RedWhiteAndRoyalBlue thank you Aneesh!!

!! more VERY IMPORTANT RWRB content in this post: https://yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere.tumblr.com/post/739408729011781632/rwrb-this

Henry Fox & Arthur Fox-post here: https://yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere.tumblr.com/post/738761008290627584/when-alex-texted-henry-yo-theres-a-bond

----from: https://instagram.com/p/C1POyPot_ZC/

my RWRB instagram highlight here: https://www.instagram.com/stories/highlights/18198132073262637/

THIS SONG IS SO FIRSTPRINCE!! thank you Nick & Taylor, i'm adding it to my RWRB playlist!!

youtube

♥. and now some RWRB links here:

Matthew talking about Alex's bisexuality ahead of the movie:

Alex, our ACD, our bisexual king post:

our FIRSTPRINCE post/mostly beautiful pictures/:

FIRSTPRINCE EDITS(post with edits/links♥):

coming out-important post/A's speech(both movie+book versions):

RWRB DELETED SCENES post:

RWRB BLOOPERS/BTS post:

THAT SCENE-Alex and Prince Henry Flirt Over Text:

KARAOKE SCENE:

Them reading RWRB:

!! https://nicostiel.tumblr.com/post/725473496174575616/red-white-and-royal-blue-2023-text-posts

for more bonus content post, nick's other queer roles posts, more taylor etc visit my tumblr account and use the hashtags in the search!♥

+ https://www.tumblr.com/yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere/729333681897046016/the-delicate-art-of-the-grab-and-kiss?source=share

513 notes · View notes

qpidkitea · 4 months

Text

ENDUREMENT

FARLEIGH START X FEM! READER

PRÉCIS: Second part of Tranquility, where Farleigh talks about himself and his family. Hoping that you wouldn't judge and come with him to America to visit his mother.

WARNING: Angst, cursing, mentions of death, mentions of Oliver, kisses, happy ending. The reader is kind of an anchor for the family right now.

A/N: Big big biggg thanks to @darkeyesshine for the ideas for this fic. Thank you again!!

No one knew about your 'relationship' with Farleigh. You weren't even sure yourself you two were officially together, but you cared for him, likewise he cared for you. The two of you spent many nights at Saltburn sneaking into each other's rooms for nothing more than the comfort company and some shared kisses- not on the lips just yet, silently grateful that you two uncoincidentally chose rooms down the hall from each other. You don't even think that fucking freak. Oliver knew, and he knew everything.

You and Farleigh lie beneath the duvet in his room, your head resting on his naked chest, your arm laying across his stomach as he smokes a cigarette, being careful to blow the smoke in the air, attempting not to cause severe damage to your lungs, even though you're definitely sure you have already been exposed to secondhand smoke just from being near the Cattons. For the past two weeks, you have been staying in Farleigh's room during the night, but you made sure that in the day, you'd invite the Cattons to come and do the things they used to when Felix was here. It was fun while it lasted. Now Farleigh was planning to go back home to America permanently. Venetia was still severely depressed, but it wasn't like you could ask her to stop. You didn't know how Elspeth and James were feeling. They hid their emotions through careless eyes, moving on with the same normality as before.

You look up at Farleigh, who was just finishing his cigarette. You watch as he throws it out of the open window before he looks down at you with concern behind his eyes.

"What?" Staring wasn't the word to explain what you were doing, you were admiring. His beautiful brown skin was glistening in the scorching sun, and you swore you could almost mistake him for a Greek God. His brown curls settled perfectly around his face, he was perfect to you. Everything about him was perfect. You just hoped he may feel the same about you.

"Nothing. Just looking at you." Farleigh lets out a laugh, smiling so hard his cheeks expand, but that only made him look cuter. You sit up from laying on his chest, and move to sit Criss Cross on the end of his bed facing him. Farleigh sits up next, and you can't help but laugh when he turns to the side to stretch, seeing the back of his hair flattened.

"Oh, shut up! I'm fixing it." You're still laughing, and you swear you could almost pass out from laughter. Using one slender arm, Farleigh fluffs the hair at the back of his head. Your laughter dies down and you take a deep breath. Smiling again at him.

"Farleigh, is there anything on your mind before you depart for America next week?" You feel bad bringing this up when just a moment before you were laughing with him, but you didn’t want him leaving in a horrible mood. Farleigh runs a hand up and down his chest, nodding his head a bit. He moves to stretch his legs over you, socked feet laying in your lap. You scrunch your face up before pushing his feet to the side of you. Farleigh takes in a deep breath before beginning to speak.

"I have to get the fuck away from here. I can't stand it. They make me feel like an imbecile- not Venetia." You nod your head at his clarification, now understanding that he was talking about James and Elspeth. You knew James was funding Farleigh's mom- his own sister - back in America, but you didn't know that Farleigh was receiving the backlash from his mother's actions. Unfortunately, you also know that Farleigh's mother was disowned from the family. You don't know why, but you know her name is completely off the will, and most likely they would withdraw from paying for college.

"He claims he doesn't care about my "Bloody American Feelings-" What the fuck does he even mean?" Farleigh looks at you with wide eyes, emphasizing his point. Farleigh was a very handsy talker, moving his arms around to explain his point. You stay silent, letting him get his rant off. You weren't related to the Cattons- just a friend of Farleigh's, Venetia's, and Felix's, who the Cattons let stay. This was your 3rd year staying in Saltburn.

"This place is too- much for me right now. I miss my mom, I miss my house, I never even wanted to really go to Oxford, I only went because Felix wanted me to- I don't fit in anywhere. A queer, needy person of color in the middle of England? Fucking England!" You pout slightly at his outburst, not liking him calling himself needy.

"You're not needy, Farleigh. Don't believe what Sir James says about you. He's a complete and utter fool. You can't expect someone who's been rich their whole life to understand anything from the perspective of someone who hasn't had everything handed to them." You look into his eyes as you say this, making sure he understands exactly what you are trying to say.

"Thank you. I know, I just- you're a problem for me. I want to get away from here, but I can't just leave you here. jus' can't let you go back home and forget about me, can I?" Farleigh grows this smug smirk on his face, taunting you almost.

"Oh, shut up! I'd be fine without you." At this, Farleigh quirks an eyebrow, his smirk dropping before he comes to his knees on the bed, crawling over to you over the expanse of the bed before leaning on top of you, his shadow blocking out any light.

"Live? Without me? Impossible. You need me. Who's gonna make you laugh in the late hours of the night, hm?" Farleigh tilts his head at the end of his question, his curls moving along with him. There's nothing but teasing behind his voice but it still makes you nervous none the less, playing your bashfulness off, you push him, making him fall backwards because of his unstable position.

"Okay! I'll miss you, I must admit, but as long as you just call me, we'll be fine" You cross your arms as Farleigh sits back upright, crossing his legs now, his long limbs folding across each other. It's weird, because he's quiet. He's looking down, facial expression blank, a bit of uncertainty in his movements, fiddling with the box of cigarettes in his lap.

"Do you want to come with me?"

"What?"

"Do you... want to come with me? To America." Fairleigh knew you lived alone, your very wealthy parents died a month before you went off to college, and you inherited all of their wealth. It would last you at least another 10 years, and by that time, you would already have a job, living on your own. This is part of the reason you had no problem going to Saltburn for the last three years. You had no family waiting for you to come home for the holidays.

"Are you sure you would want me to come?"

"I wouldn't be able to live my life with just a phone call every week." Farleigh looks up with a smile, his hair bouncing, looking as beautiful as ever.

"Okay. How long do you want me to stay?" Farleigh has surprise written all over his face, he never expected you to agree so quickly, to want you to come to such a place with him, where you know you won't have the finest things, or a great big house to live in.

"We'll come back before school starts again and go back in for all the breaks. I'll be able to finish college. They paid in full for tuition already." He smirks and pulls out a cigarette from the small cardboard box, putting it between his ring and middle finger, but not lighting it just yet.

"What about when school ends?" Would you stay in England? Or would you find a home in America to be with Farleigh, or possibly find a home together? You brush your thoughts off as wishful and look up from your lap at Farleigh with your head tilted, awaiting an answer.

"Oh, I'm hoping that you'll stay with me in America? Pretty, pretty, pretty pleaseeeee." You laugh, knowing of the incoming dramatics about to come from Farleigh, and if on cue, he flops backwards on the bed, shaking his head about in a show of a tantrum. Swinging his arms behind his head, somehow throwing his cigarette across the cold wooden floors and huffing loudly. He rolls off the bed, landing on his feet before he comes to the side of the bed. You turn your body to him, and he's on his knees, his hands grabbing your own before he pleads dramatically.

"I'll do anything! Just come with me and stay. You'll love the fatty American cheeseburgers, I swear!" It's surprising how long Farleigh can hold up a good act, not once breaking his role to laugh or even cringe at himself.

"Anything, huh?" You lean forward and smile. Fairleigh's blonde and brown curls touch your forehead.

"Anything." It wasn't you who made the first move, but Farleigh. As he inches himself to your face, you lean in also, but it felt as if you weren't the one controlling your body. Your forehead tickles, and you want nothing but to back away and rub at your forehead to get rid of that itchy feeling, but your body won't let you. Slowly you two inched closer together until your lips finally touched, Farleigh sighs softly, like he was waiting for this moment, and you can't help but melt into the kiss.

To you- to the both of you, this confirms everything. Small stares at each other across the dining room table, the lingering touches at the bar, the matching costumes you two would often wear to parties. You couldn't believe it took this long for you to even just kiss, even after nights of sleeping in the same bed. Farleigh is the first one to pull back, and you can clearly see, etched on his face, is nothing but adornment.

"I can't believe I let myself wait three fucking years for that. Should've done it way sooner." You two bust out into laughter at his words, knowing that a new beginning would start for the both of you.

Farleigh ushers you to knock on the front door, but you slap his hand away from the small of your back, insisting on ringing the doorbell, the house was medium-sized, but it was a breath of fresh air for you, you grew sick of high ceilings and Renaissance walls. You could hear his mother's steps get louder as she approached the door. Heels- she was wearing heels. The doorknob twists in your view before the door opens towards Farleigh's mother. She wore a beautiful black pantsuit with red lipstick and red heels to match. She might've not been filthy rich, but she dressed like she was, even if it was inexpensive or not a designer brand. A white smile comes upon her face as she looks at you, and then at her son.

“Oh! You must be Y/N. Nice to meet you darling” You almost forgot she was English. Her accent was not as strong as yours, but you could tell her upbringing.

“nice to meet you Ms.-" You smile back at her, reaching out to shaker her hand, but she ignores it, instead pulling you in for a tight hug.

“please, call me Frederica, come in, come in, quite cold outside” She steps aside from the doorway, allowing you and Farleigh to enter. She winks at Farleigh, motioning her head towards you as he passes. Extending her two thumbs out at him. But you don't see that. She then pulls her son into a warm, tight embrace, kissing his cheek, some of her red lipstick transferring onto his face. Your heart warms as she tells Farleigh how much she missed him, and it nearly melts away as he responds, telling her the same thing.

She turns to you now, who's still standing in the middle of the living room. The woman motions her hand for you to sit on the couch, and you do. She smiles and sits next to you, and Farleigh almost screams in horror as he too comes to sit on the couch, only to notice the blue picture book sitting on the coffee table, undoubtedly filled with his most embarrassing baby photos. The woman next to you crosses her legs before turning to you and smiling.

“Farleigh is quite fond of you, talks about you all the time over the telephone." Farleigh turns away, pretending not to hear his mother as he looks at the white curtains hanging from the window. Tapping his foot on the carpeted floor. You smile and laugh slightly, imagining him ranting about you to his mother, who's never even met you.

"Really?" Your tone is teasing. Even if he wasn't looking your way, he could definitely hear you.

"Oh absolutely, almost every day, and now I know why. You're stunning. Now, let me show you some of his baby pictures." Farleigh whips his head over to look at his mother with wide eyes, his hair swinging wildly.

"Mother, no!"

#farleigh start x fem reader #farleigh start x you #farleigh x reader #farleigh start x reader #farleigh imagine #farleigh start #saltburn imagine #saltburn #saltburn movie #saltburn x reader #archie madekwe #saltburn 2023

516 notes · View notes

royalsweetteaa · 10 months

Text

sadbucksblog asked: Ok here’s a thought that’s been running through my head. 1940s steve forcing himself on shy!innocent!reader and forcing her to marry him. Later when reader found out that he ‘died’ (during the plane crash), she was secretly glad. But surprise surprise Endgame steve came back to return the infinity stones n decides to stay with his widow for good.In my head, endgame steve is meaner & more jaded 😈

Oh, definitely!! Endgame Steve gives the most dom vibes out of all his previous versions. If reader thought Steve was bad in the 1940s, she has another thing coming when he returns. His stay in the modern age has corrupted him more and made him kinkier. Like imagine the things he would do against 40s reader now that he knows how to pleasure a woman, because I know for sure they didn’t care about that stuff in the 40s.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

WARNING - Following contains: non-con, explicit smut, forced marriage, misogyny, 40s gender roles, dom/sub dynamic, dom!Steve, unbalanced power dynamic, mentions of somnophilia, slight bondage, dumbification, loss of virginity.

Title: His return

I imagine with this scenario, Steve liked Y/N a lot before he received the serum. You were so sweet and actually nice to him unlike the rest of the girls, but whenever he asked you on a date, you would reject him, saying you only saw him as a good friend.

And so after he got his super soldier strength, he expected you to like him back, because all women love strong and masculine men who can protect and provide for them (at least that’s how the gender norms were back in the 1940s). So imagine to his surprise when you kindly reject him even then after he has become a living female fantasy.

He literally cannot contain his fury and forces himself on you the same day, ignoring your pleas when you beg him to stop because you wanted to save yourself for marriage and give your virginity to someone you love.

“Don’t worry, my love. It’s not a sin if we end up getting married. You will take me as your husband or I’m going to tell everyone how much of a whore you are for spreading your legs so easily for me.” Steve threatened.

You were so scared, and knowing you had little authority in this situation, you did as he said. You knew no one would side with you if you were to protest against the new hero of the country; Captain America.

A month later, the two of you married and became husband and wife. Steve made you into his little house wife, and for each mission he came home from, he would fuck you for hours until you passed out. You were so clueless of the things Steve did to you sometimes, like whenever he would thrust inside of you in a specific angle causing you to feel an arising sensation from your abdomen. You didn’t know what it was, but it felt good no matter how shameful you were of it.

Whenever you accidentally dropped something, like a plate of food or when you burned dinner in the oven because you forgot the time, Steve would punish you by harsh spanking, telling you how bad of a wife you are for messing up your husband’s food. You would cry and apologize profusely until he stopped and left you with a sore butt.

He would also take you when you were fast asleep. You were a light sleeper, and only would you wake up when he jackhammered into you, causing a burning feeling around your sore pussy. Steve was huge due to his bodily enhancement, and it took a while for you to get used to his size. He would hardly talk when he fucked you as his only mission was to cum for relief. Steve was a busy man after all, with the war still ongoing. The weeks he was gone were the most peaceful times of your life ever since Steve took claim of you.

One fateful day, a military personnel visited you at your house and gave you the unfortunate news of the Captain’s loss. You shedded tears, but not because of Steve’s death. It was rather because the nightmare of a life was finally over. You felt relieved knowing Steve could never put his hands on you ever again.

2 years pass by, and you have all forgotten about Steve Rogers. You would occasionally see his face on posters and articles, and while it brought back some of the trauma, you always reminded yourself that he was gone for good.

At least, you thought he was.

It was a day like any other in your small little suburban house that you moved to after selling Steve’s house, and you suddenly heard the doorbell ring to your front door. You shouted ‘coming!’ to whoever was waiting outside, and turned off the temperature of your oven where there were freshly baked cinnamon rolls waiting for you later.

You open the door, and it’s like your whole world shatters before your eyes. There he was, your unmistakably still alive husband standing there. He looked more older, and it was only 2 years ago he was announced dead.

“Hello, my love. Have you missed me?” He asked darkly. You shrieked and tried to escape through the back door, but it was too late. Steve ran after you and grabbed you around your waist and held you down on the floor, preventing you from struggling away.

“That is no way to greet your husband after thinking he was dead for such a long time. I expected better from you, my wife. Maybe you have forgotten who you belong to and I need to give your dumb little brain a reminder.” He said, and carried you upstairs to your bedroom.

He threw you onto the bed like a rag doll and started to tie your wrists with velvet ropes he had brought with him to the headboard. This was new to you from all your previous experiences of having sex with Steve, and it scared you. “S-Steve, what is this?..what are you-!”

“I’m going to fuck you so hard and make you wish you never pulled that little escape stunt earlier. Silly woman, thinking you stand a chance against me. You’re mine, and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure your dumb head understands that.”

He ripped your clothes off harshly, and he unbuttoned his trousers to free his cock from the restraints. You expected him to penetrate you like he always did before. That was the only type of sex you two were familiar with. But this ‘new’ version of Steve had different plans.

Your eyes widened when his face lowered at your pussy, causing you to feel distressed. “W-Wait, don’t do that!…I-It probably smells, I don’t want you to get too close to it!”

“Oh, Y/N, my sweet wife. You’re so clueless. What I did and did not do before I disappeared was when I was a boy. But I’m a man now, and I’m going to teach you so many things of how we can pleasure each other.”

His tongue stuck out of his mouth and he licked a stripe of your cunt, causing you to cry out a moan. You have never felt anything like this before. It almost felt unreal. It only got worse when his tongue glided between your pussy lips, gathering all your juices for him to savour.

“You taste delicious, my love. There isn’t a thing that’s more tastier than your sweet pussy…” he mumbled into your sensitive skin.

Steve never talked like this during sex, and somehow you preferred him not to talk because it made it easier to not enjoy it. This Steve however was making it harder to hate it with each new thing he did, and it made you feel horrible about yourself.

Suddenly, Steve used what felt like his thumb to rub at a particular spot. It caused your whole body to jolt at once like you were electrocuted, and you felt an overwhelming heat spread across your whole body.

“Do you know what this little pearl is, doll? It’s called a clitoris. It’s your most sensitive part of your pussy, and it will only be recognized as what engorges your wetness and surrounds your vagina in 2009 - about 70 years from now on. It also has about 8,000 nerve endings, which is why you become so sensitive when I touch it. Isn’t that fascinating, my love?”

You didn’t pick up a word of what he was rambling about because you were too out of it from his circling motion of rubbing your pearly nub. You couldn’t stop moaning and panting. Again came that familiar feeling of a rising high. Before you knew it, the feeling hit you like a wave and you felt your hole quivering.

“Aaaww, you just came. How cute….” He cooed, with a victorious grin. “Now, let’s get to the main course of this session. Haven’t been in this pussy for a loooong time. And I’m sure you’ve been a good girl not having anyone else inside you, right?”

You didn’t respond to that question, still pretty out of what had taken place moments earlier.

He slapped your cheek lightly but harsh enough to take you out from your daze. “Answer me, whore.”

“N-No! I haven’t, Steve! No one has been inside of me since you disappeared! I promise!” You answered with frantic.

He smiled again. “Good.”

He aimed his cock at your hole and shoved himself in with little care. He groaned loudly, sounding so content with the current feeling. “Oh, I’ve missed her…missed your pussy so much…I’ve missed you..” he said followed with a grunt. “I’m so glad I’m back. Back together with you.”

For the rest of the evening, he would torture you with new tricks of his that opened a new world of sex for you. By the end of the night, Steve had you wrapped in his strong arms, whispering the most obscene things and promises in your ear. Most of them were connected to one promise that made you dread for the future.

A promise of never leaving you ever again.

Note from author: this turned out a lot longer than I originally planned but I really enjoyed the concept and couldn’t help myself. I’m a hoe for endgame AND 40s Steve.🧍Anyways, thank you @sadbucksblog for sharing your idea! <3 Hope you enjoy it!

(This has been reposted here as I have deleted my old account!)

Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! <3

#dark steve rogers x reader #40s steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #steve rogers x female reader #drabble #chris evans fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

kaznejis · 10 months

Text

Love is lost on you- Bucky Barnes x Reader

Sam hummed, eyeing you as he nodded slowly, “He’s been to therapy, gone on a date with some girl apparently.”

Your heart stuttered, eyebrows shooting up as you failed to hide your expression from Sam- the shock and subsequent heartbreak present in your features. “Oh,” you spoke slowly, refusing to meet Sam’s eye, “Yeah, well, good for him.”

A/N- I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing! Please feel free to send any requests for Bucky- I have a lot of free time right now. :)

Word count: 3,862

Read it on AO3!

“Have you seen Bucky recently?”

Your lips twisted at Sam’s question, a lump forming in your throat at the name. Whilst you loved spending time with Sam- breakfasts, jogging together, late night drinks; the topic of your relationship with the Winter Soldier remained a taboo, an unspoken topic that lingered within every etched line of your conversations. You tended to skirt around his questions, opting to forget the time in which Y/N L/N and Bucky Barnes had been the pinnacle of a dynamic duo; both inside and outside of the battlefield. Constant speculation surrounding your relationship made you popular within the public eye, even as active fugitives- the perfect, star-studded friends-to-lovers trope, the bad boy and the good girl next door. Natasha had joked about the two of you being a couple- just to appease the general public who had kept up with any of your appearances.

Bucky had laughed in her face, mocking the idea of even being seen with you, ridiculing the idea of recognising what you believed to be true. You had laughed too, as sincerely as you could with the swirl of rejection in the pit of your stomach. You had realised then that despite your prayers, your wishes, you and Bucky Barnes would never be more than friends.

Sam was the only avenger you were constantly in contact with, having both opted to remain in Washington- you would join him in visiting Steve every now and then; now a dwindling old man, a shadow of the former super-soldier you had looked up to. He remembered very little of his time with the Avengers, the wide span of time his life had consisted throughout caused memories to intertwine and muddle together. But he still laughed, still carried that jovial optimism he carried towards life; you could only smile along, holding his hand as he lived out his final days. You envied Steve at times, he had known exactly where he belonged and had taken the chance to go there.

You hadn’t quite worked out your place in the world post-Avengers, post superhero glory.

Maybe that was why you had clung to Sam, meeting with him regularly and joining him on outings to his hometown; he felt the same way. You couldn’t blame him when he gave away the shield- it was too much of a responsibility, a burden to hold for the rest of his life as he would constantly live in Steve’s shadow. You understood, you couldn’t fault him for it- but part of you knew it would have landed in the wrong hands.

“No,” you shook your head, running a finger along the rim of your beer bottle as the new ‘Captain America’ pranced around on the bar’s television above you. “Why, have you?”

Sam hummed, eyeing you as he nodded slowly, “He’s been to therapy, gone on a date with some girl apparently.”

Sam hummed again, a blatant smirk upon his lips as he drank from his beer bottle, “There’s something else.”

“Go on.”

“He’s coming down here, to help confront the flag smashers issue,” his voice faded out as your heart thudded, “And to probably cuss me out for letting the shield go.”

“He’s coming here? Bucky’s coming here?” your voice wobbled slightly, your facade of strength instantly fading at the thought of being in the same room as him, seeing his face, smelling his scent. It was a feeling you’d once been accustomed to, seeing him everyday- sparring with him in the gym, fighting alongside him, collapsing into his arms as the both of you had faded back into existence- gripping the sides of his face, foreheads connected as you’d cried. Your lips had collided on that fateful day, tears mingling together as you’d gripped at each other, holding fistfuls of his long hair in that Wakandan jungle. You had thought that was it, it was finally happening. But then the portals had opened, the fight had ended and the clarity of the situation had become all too real- Tony and Natasha were dead, Steve was no longer the young super-soldier he had been only seconds earlier. Bucky had left then, disappeared without a trace leaving the kiss you had shared merely adding up to the heat of the moment.

It had broken your heart, more so than the day Bucky had laughed at the thought of a relationship. You had finally grasped it, everything you had ever wanted- you were alive, you had won, you had Bucky. But within minutes it was over, rendering you helpless, empty, alone. You had been left with nothing post-blip, no family to return to, no home to return to. You joined the billions that simply rode the wave of life, unable to return to their previous selves; unable to gain back the years upon years lost to Thanos.

Sam had continued to eye you, pity sitting deep within his eyes, “You know, maybe now could be the time to discuss what happened between you two.”

You shook your head once again, a sardonic chuckle erupting from your gut, “I don’t wanna do that to him, Sam.”

“What does that even mean?”

“You literally just said that he’s been on a date, I don’t want to disrupt his life now with reminders of the past. He’s put it all behind him and I respect that.” You continued to work in favour of America, utilising your skills in order to aid the government. You and Sam had co-ran multiple military focused missions- threats were ever prevalent, so at least you could be occupied on that front.

Sam sighed, rubbing at his forehead, exhaustion prevalent within the crease of his brow, “Well, the two of you better not be awkward as hell the whole time, we have a mission to complete.”

Smiling, you raised your beer bottle to clink it against his, a toast to whatever was to come. “Can’t make any promises.”

You pitied Sam, sitting on the other side of the plane, grasping at any semblance of a coherent conversation in order to escape the thick tension within the air. It was awkward as hell.

Bucky had stormed over to the two of you, opting to ignore you entirely and cuss Sam out for losing the shield. You had been too stunned to acknowledge him- his once long locks had been chopped, replaced by cropped, buzzed hair with the slightest fluff on top. Your body practically yearned for him as you took in the tight leather, light stubble and dominant demeanour he now wore- the quiet, isolated Bucky that you had rescued and harboured was no longer present; he had been replaced by a real soldier- all hard muscle and perfected accuracy. You had stood to the side of Sam, switching between avoiding Bucky’s gaze and gawking at his new appearance. Upon the chance that he had taken to try and acknowledge you, you had already walked away- much to Sam’s dismay as he side eyed the both of you the entire walk towards the plane. Despite Sam’s endearing attempts to include you in the conversation, you had merely hummed and nodded- too nervous to engage with this new Bucky Barnes.

So, now, you sat side by side in the back of the plane- waiting, begging, for the instruction to jump. As soon as it did come, Sam was gone- practically leaping from the plane as he flew towards the target. Bucky had faltered, glancing back at you momentarily as you had remained stoic; refusing to meet his gaze as you checked your weapons.

He cleared his throat, glancing downwards from the exit of the plane, “We got any chutes?”

“It’s too low.” Joaquin replied from the opening, gripping the handle as he remained stable. Bucky glanced back at you once again, a tinge of worry present in his features as he calculated the expanse of the drop before you. You rolled your eyes back, crossing your arms as you waited for him to jump. Clicking his tongue, he nodded- before throwing himself from the plane.

“Impressive,” you snorted as he screamed, grinning at Joaquin who attempted to stifle his laugh, “Good thing I thought to install gliders in my stealth suit instead of opting for a leather jacket.” At that you swan-dived from the entrance, allowing your suit to expand and form makeshift gliders. With feline-like precision, you landed on your two feet beside Bucky, splayed along the grass.

“Well, that was majestic.”

You scoffed, turning to jog after Red Wing as it began to lead the way to Sam’s location. Though, before you could; a weighted hand grasped at your sleeve, “Whoa, whoa. Hold on.” Bucky gasped, presumably exasperated from the fall, “Are you gonna talk to me or are you giving an old friend the silent treatment right now?”

Scoffing, you snatched your hands from the metal arm- an action only possible with his allowance, “What do we have to talk about, James?”

“Oh- come on Doll, James, seriously?” your heart sped at the nickname, your cheeks filling with heat as you turned your face away from Bucky, beginning the long run through the forest. You heard a sigh behind you, to which you ignored, you had nothing to discuss with him. He had obviously moved on, with no intention of using this meet up as a chance to potentially rekindle what had about to have been- right person, wrong time and all. But instead he had gone on a date. He had probably bought her flowers, drinks, and put on a nice outfit for her. The thought made your stomach churn, the polar opposite of butterflies swarming in your stomach. Jealousy. Out of curiosity, you just wanted to know who she was- check that she was a viable replacement, made him happy, was good looking and all. Though you couldn’t ask Bucky about it- why should you care anyway? The two of you had kissed once. Bucky probably didn’t even remember it, you thought to yourself.

The two of you jogged in silence; the heavy weight of what lay between you creating a dark cast upon your conscience. You well and truly pitied Sam. The Falcon came into view within the warehouse, crouched behind a shelf and watching the targets. As him and Bucky argued petulantly, you observed the group ahead- they were just kids. All young, fighting for what they believed was right; you saw a mirror image of your own young self. You watched as they entered the trucks- Sam scanned the trucks before realising that a hostage was potentially present within one of the vehicles. You swore, sprinting after Sam and Bucky.

“Wait!” you shouted, causing the others to come to a halt; both sharing confused looks, “Sam I need you to lift me so we can get extra eyes from the sky- I’m not as fast as the two of you on foot and I’m definitely not about to make James give me a piggyback.” Sam nodded, ensuring that he could lift you and fly at the same time- but not before sharing a confused look with Bucky, mouthing ‘James?’ to which Bucky only shook his head, shrugging. The two of you flew off, allowing you the opportunity to unholster your handguns and deliver a number of shots to the top of the truck.

“Drop me off on top!” you yelled up to Sam as you watched Bucky be thrown from one van and dragged to the top of another. His super-soldier strength inflicting damage upon each vehicle.

“Are you serious?” Sam shouted from above, “You’ll get yourself killed, look at them holding Bucky back right now.”

“Do it Sam.” you ordered, squirming in his arms until he deposited you on top of the trucks to which you instantly unclipped your throwing knives, depositing two into the necks of the two soldiers holding Bucky back. Though- it only angered them, allowing them to turn their attention to your human form. You swore, your hair whipping in the wind as they advanced towards you.

“Y/N!” Bucky yelled, fighting against the men holding him down, “Y/N, no!”

Delivering a fatal kick, the soldier finally reached you, grabbing you by the hair and slamming you into the top of the truck. Screaming, you mustered every tactic you’d ever been taught: elbows, legs, arms- any brutal bone was thrown against the soldier pinning you down. The man tutted, his anonymity within the mask only increasing your terror as cold eyes glared down at you. You realized that you had become used to fighting alongside super soldiers instead of against them.

You heard Bucky’s yell before you felt the impact of the floor- the trucks speeding away as you laid at the side of the road; each breath hitching with the intense pain within your body. Gritting your teeth, you rolled to your knees and crawled to the roadside; only to lose momentum and roll into a ditch. The fall would have been fatal if not for the protection of your suit- but the high velocity impact had still broken a number of bones. Licking your lips, the taste of acrid copper prevailed as you began to cough up flecks of blood; turning only to see that the grass around you was stained red.

“Shit.” your vision blurred dangerously- the pain merged into an unfocused haze, rendering your ability to identify your injuries useless. Fading in and out of consciousness, you listened to the wildlife around you and thought of Bucky. He would never know the origin of your anger- only remembering the cold mirage you had enacted towards him; opting to ignore him instead. Sobbing, you prayed for anyone, anything to find you; for Sam and Bucky to break free from the soldiers and come and find you, save you. You would apologise then- talk to Bucky, talk to him about whatever he wanted to say to you. It didn’t matter if you were just friends, if you met his new girlfriend- you just wanted to see him again.

Blood stained your chin at that point; the coughing and choking a constant motion as you couldn’t muster the strength to sit up; to allow your throat some reprieve. Your leg felt wrong, broken in different places and bent backwards at the knee. As your vision faded, you only thought of Bucky.

“Shit, shit Y/N,” a gust of wind hit you as the whoosh of wings closing sounded above, “Buck! I’ve found her, she’s over here.”

The sound of knees hitting the ground beside your head could be heard next, the impact causing your head to jostle, “Doll? Y/N, can you hear me, tell me you can hear me.” warmth surrounded you as you felt your head being lifted into a lap, a rough sleeve gently wiped the blood staining your chin, “Come on Y/N, don’t do this to me. Wake up.”

“Get her in the truck.” A foreign voice sounded, deep and arrogant in its timber.

“Get away from her,” the voice above you snapped, “we don’t know the extent to her injuries yet- we may not be able to lift her.”

“We need to get her to a hospital, Buck,” a voice that sounded like Sam’s spoke, “there’s still a heartbeat, we’ve got a chance.” Throughout the conversation above you, a trembling hand had caressed your face; smoothing the blood-matted hair away from your face and distracting you from the pain throughout your body. The hand was calloused but gentle- the feeling of it against your cheek vaguely familiar in your unconscious state. You faded in-and-out of consciousness from there, an ache resounding throughout your body as you were lifted and held against a firm chest; warmth radiating through the harsh material. Sweet nothings and comforts were whispered into your ear as the body stayed close, the hand firm against the side of your face; creating a comforting pressure. Reminding you that you could still be alive.

Eventually, you woke- the harsh lights of a hospital room blinding as your eyes adjusted; the last thing you had seen being the country roadside. Coughing, you retched at the sandpaper texture to your throat. A straw was quickly coaxed towards your mouth, Sam’s worrisome eyes staring down at you. You sipped from the straw, blinking as you truly adjusted to being conscious.

“Hey there,” Sam spoke as he gave you a watery smile, his eyes filling with tears, “We thought we’d lost you for a minute there.”

“Can’t lose me that easily,” you croaked, smiling at your best friend and reaching for his hand; to which he obliged.

“Thankfully not,” Sam laughed shakily, his gaze still clouded with emotion, “Y/N, I was the one to see you first and- we really didn’t know if you were going to make it. I mean there was so much blood and your leg-” you squeezed his hand tighter, you were alive, you were okay. Sam’s vision darkened suddenly, his hold on yours tightening. “You should have seen him Y/N.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you cocked your head at Sam, “Who?”

“Buck, he- the soldiers held him up so he watched as you were thrown. The scream he let out I- I’ve not seen him lose it like that during a fight in years, not since-”

“The Winter Soldier.” you finished, turning your gaze to your hands. Sam could only nod.

“He cares about you, Y/N. So much. He held you to his chest the entire journey here and we practically had to tear you from his arms when we arrived.”

“Why isn’t he here now then?

Sam’s face took a different cast then, one of confusion. “I- I’m not sure actually, he said he wanted to give us some space?” You reflected his look of confusion.

“Is he still in the hospital?”

“I assume so, it wasn’t too long ago that he left,” Sam stood then, giving you a kiss on the cheek and jogging towards the door- still in full Falcon gear, “I’m gonna send him in.”

It was only a number of moments later that Bucky rounded the entrance to the doorway, his expression stricken as he froze- staring at your opened eyes, at your steady breaths. A beat passed and he sighed, moving to occupy the vacant seat that Sam had been sitting in only moments earlier. “Hey, Doll.”

“Buck,” you sighed, reaching for his twitching hand that lay at the edge of your bed, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, a glint of anger and confusion in his eyes, “I’m okay? Y/N I watched you fall from a moving truck.”

Rolling your eyes, you sat straight; wincing slightly at the pain, “I was just say-”

“No, Y/N,” Bucky snapped, “you shouldn’t even have been there in the first place, I mean what were you thinking, jumping onto a truck and taking on super soldiers that were holding me down.”

“Wow, thanks-”

“Seriously. This easily could have been prevented if your boyfriend hadn’t agreed to carry you 100 feet into the air.”

“My what-”

“I mean, come on, surely he should have your best interests in mind. The whole thing was reckless from the beginning, if I was in his position I wouldn’t have brought you.”

You sat, shell shocked, Bucky thought you and Sam were together, “Is that why you weren’t here when I woke up?”

Bucky nodded then, hurt in his eyes as he scrubbed at his stubble, “Yeah- I mean, I wanted to, you know, give you space. Let you work things out I don’t know-”

You cackled, laughing right in his face- leading to an entirely unattractive coughing fit to which Bucky was forced to clap you on the back. “Why are you laughing at me?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you chuckled, wiping at the tears rolling down your cheeks as you stared at the silly man before you, “Bucky, me and Sam aren’t together.”

Bucky paused, seemingly halting in his tracks as he gaped at you, “What?”

“We aren’t together.”

“But-” he shook his head, having seemingly lived a lie for however long he’d believed this, “but you two have been so close I mean- every time I talk to Sam he mentions things the two of you have been doing and you’re just so close and in tune with each other I thought-”

“We’re just friends Buck,” your mouth twisted, the clarity of the situation hitting you, “Why do you even care anyway? You have a girlfriend.”

“Oh for goodness sake.” Bucky was laughing now, standing and opting to pace the room, his face filled with mirth as he continued to scrub at his stubble, “I do not have a girlfriend.”

“Sam told me you went on a date.”

“Sam told you- yeah and he conveniently missed the part where I did that in an attempt to get over you.” Bucky threw his arms up then, his expression defeated as he spoke. You could only stare back, lips pursed, eyes wide.

“Get over me?”

“Yes.”

“But, I thought-” you shook your head, “after the battle, you-you left and we never spoke again. I thought you regretted what happened. I thought-”

“Every waking moment is spent thinking about that kiss, Doll,” Bucky sighed, circling the bed to sit back at your side, taking your hand in his, “I was mourning, my best friend was gone and I knew he was going to do it but I just- I would never be ready for it, you know. Sam found me later and he was telling me all of these stories about you and- God, I’m so stupid- I presumed that the two of you had gotten together so I kept my distance. I mean, I was so in love with you that I didn’t want to ruin that for you even despite what had happened between us and- I’m so sorry Y/N.”

Tears trickled down your cheeks as you stared at the ridiculous, gorgeous man before you; you laughed again, softer and tearier this time as you reached to grab Bucky’s face, mirroring the action that he had done to you during your unconscious state, “We are so ridiculous.”

Bucky laughed too then, moving to sit at the edge of your bed and tuck the loose hair behind your ears- his cheeks were crumpled; red with embarrassment and love and longing. He leaned forward then, careful in respect of your injuries, in order to capture your lips between his. This kiss was different from your first, it was slower, less urgent- your thumbs tracing figure-of-eights into his cheeks as you didn’t carry that same weight of uncertainty as you had last time. You smiled against each other's mouths, hands trailing each other’s bodies- the back of his head, his cheeks, his back, his neck, the brass of his metal arm.

You finally felt complete, like you knew where you belonged.

#bucky barnes x reader #mcu #mcu fanfiction #bucky barnes #falcon and the winter soldier #extremely self indulgent #sam wilson #marvel #thunderbolts #use of the doll nickname iktrrrr

1K notes · View notes

sayruq · 6 months

Text

Biden's visit has concluded. Israel has spent his entire visit trying to muddy the waters of what happened to Al Ahli Hospital and despite their cartoonish efforts, it hasn't worked

The Global South and especially West Asia know who is responsible for the bombing and no amount of AI voice recordings of 'Hamas operatives' can change that.

Israel war crimes continues to backfire on them even in America

Biden backing Israel has had an impact on America's image. Here's a Wall Street Journal article warning that America's continued support is turning countries towards Russia and China which is code for turning countries against America

An EU official said that the EU will pay a heavy price in the Global South for its continued, unabashed support for Israel

There's also speculation that the Biden administration knew about the bombing before it happened.

Countries that were/are allied with Israel continue to distance themselves from Israel like Russia. The reason I keep highlighting Russia is because the West has been running out of ammunition due to the Russia-Ukraine war and that includes Israel which is rumoured to have sent 80-90% of its ammunition to Ukraine. If this conflict lasts a long time, Israel will need to buy weapons and ammunition and Russia would be one of the countries they would turn to (same with China)

So, where are we in terms of the conflict? After days of waffling over a ground operation in Gaza, Israel postponed it until some time after Biden's visit and now we're back here again

Now I'm no military expert but constantly going back and forth on whether or not you'll invade Gaza is bound to do damage to your troops' morale. No wonder they're dealing with mass desertions while their citizens demonstrate on the streets. The Israeli leadership has no plan besides bombing Gaza.

I've seen people on twitter say that the hospital bombing was done deliberately to normalise IDF soldiers to mass civilian deaths in places like hospitals, schools, places of worship, etc. I don't know if I believe that - I think they wanted to push Iran and Hezbollah's buttons before hiding behind Biden. I don't think these people are thinking strategically.

As far as the possibility of regional war is concerned, all indicators show that the West preparing for the war to escalate

Seems to me the Israel has seen what Ukraine has received in just a year and a half of war. They're done receiving a paltry 3.8 billion every year and now prepared to drag out the conflict and I can't say I blame with Biden proposing a 100 billion package for both Ukraine and Israel. This will stretch America too thin as far as funding in concerned. Cracks are already showing

There are parts of the US government that is unhappy that the Ukraine war is losing attention. During the Ukraine war, you had parts of the government that wanted focus to shift from Russia to China. Because of that, the US government has spent the past year alternating between hostility to Russia and threatening to go to war with China over Taiwan. When Niger expelled France from within its borders, America was preparing to join that conflict until Mali and Burkina Faso declared they would fight with Niger. Now they're entering a third front in West Asia. In short, the mighty empire is expending a lot of resources right now and it is not the threat it was when it invaded Iraq and Afghanistan in the early 2000s.

At any rate, the ground invasion of Gaza won't go the way Israel and America hopes it will

The coalition of Palestinian resistance fighters are still patiently waiting for the IDF to come meet them. Their allies aren't backing down either

The reason I keep making these posts is to remind people that, while the genocide of the people of Gaza is horrifying, the war for the liberation of Palestine has not yet been lost.

Do not lose hope. From the river to sea, Palestine WILL be free

#palestine #free palestine #free gaza #gaza #colonialism #imperialism #genocide

1K notes · View notes

wileys-russo · 7 months

Text

childhood sweethearts (6) II a.russo x reader

series playlist part one part two part three part four part five

thank you all for the feedback for what you want to see! not sure for how long this little story of mine will go for yet but i appreciate all ur support of it sm childhood sweethearts (6) II a.russo x reader

you kissed her.

alessia tensed up at first before pushing you off, eyes wide in shock at what just happened. though that shock only lasted a mere second as just as suddenly she'd pushed you away she was balling your hoodie in her fists, yanking your body back into hers and smashing her lips to your own again.

the kiss was messy and it was rushed, trying desperately to make up for all the time that had passed since the last one. though unlike when you were younger alessia's lips weren't chapped, they were soft and welcoming, her tongue darting into your mouth as her hand tangled itself in your hair and you grabbed onto her waist tightly.

you hated how kissing her still felt the same as it did all those years ago, and that no one you'd kissed since then even came close in giving you these same butterflies. her touch making your lips tingle and your head spin, you were drunk on her and drunk on the way she made you feel, how years later she still knew exactly how to treat you and your body.

but as much as you were drowned in an overwhelmingly familiar euphoria, every nerve in your body on fire and commanded to attention at the feeling of alessia's lips on yours, it was too much.

no one prepares you for your first love. the way your stomach drops when you realise its love, the awkwardly clumsy first touches as you learn your ways around one anothers bodies, jaws aching from how hard you smile at anything and everything your lover does.

but if they can't prepare you for your first love then how is anyone expected to know what your first heartbreak feels like, and the gaping hole it leaves not just in your heart and your head but your life.

gone is your person, the one steady continuance which you know you can go to for comfort, the person you spend all your free time with and when you're not with them you're thinking about them.

but when its that person whose causing all your hurt, who rips out your heart from your chest like its nothing, who do you go to for comfort? for a reprise from the ongoing dull ache in that hole in your chest?

just as much as all the passion and the pleasure came hurtling upwards to the surface as you fiercely kissed alessia, so did the heartbreak, and the betrayal. the end of the carefully curated trust you once held so dear, moving swiftly into when you would welcome the nights spent silently crying yourself to sleep, chest heaving as you muffled your sobs into your pillow.

you'd lived a lie after you'd found out alessia's intent to leave you without an explanation and decided to leave her first. brushing off your families comments about how excited you must be for alessia, ignoring the sharp ongoing twist of the knife in your back anytime they mentioned her name as if everything was fine and normal.

you'd hum and smile, forcing yourself through some half cocked lie about helping her pack, about how happy you were that she was going to get all these new opportunities in america.

going as far as even joking about how you'd need to make sure your passport was in date so you could visit her. the words stung in your throat like you'd swallowed razor blades, mouth burning like someone had shoved a red hot poker on your tongue.

but it was too raw, too painful, too hard to be honest about what happened. it would mean revealing a lot more than just losing her, but rather who she was to you when you lost her, and you just weren't ready for that.

you knew your family would have accepted you, in fact looking back now you really weren't sure what it was which held you back from coming out. maybe it was the fact you needed to come out at all, you still liked boys, but you loved alessia, and so did they.

but you weren't ready. so you forced smiles and nods, taking each uppercut with a grin plastered on your face, wearing a mask that everything was fine and okay.

but overtime you grew tired of wearing that mask and taking those jabs, tired of the lies and the pain they brought with them, why should you even have to lie? to spare alessias good reputation? or to conceal your own truth?

so overtime you'd made more of an effort to change the topic when she'd pop up, you'd make excuses not to be home when you knew the russo's were coming over. you spent more time with your university friends, throwing yourself head first into an overly active social life. tip toeing around the truth that you'd not spoken a proper word to alessia since the day you'd broke up with her.

thats not to say the blonde hadn't tried.

every day during those two weeks before she flew out to the states she'd called, messaged, sent flowers, even showed up to your doorstep.

but you'd ignore her every attempt, throwing yourself into preparing for your own university acceptance while navigating your first heart break and pretending everything was fine and dandy, no easy feat to juggle really.

and after a few weeks of embracing your new friends and your new life, you realised you didn't want her to see that. why should she have any right to see what you were doing without her? see what she lost when she left you?

so you blocked her number, removed her from your social medias, explained to your parents that the two of you just hadn't been talking much anymore with the timezones and with being in such different places in your life.

you'd drifted you told them, asking over and over for your mum to stop pestering you to get coffee with her and carol, explaining that you had new friends, new hobbies, that people grow apart and you were fine with this.

on the other hand with every attempt to reconcile things with you or explain herself further shot down, not that she was even sure what she'd say if you gave her the time, alessia eventually swallowed her pride and accepted the loss, backing off and doing as you'd asked, putting all of her focus into this new chapter, without you.

after all this was what she wanted. this was easier. it wasn't, it wouldn't ever be. but she refused to accept the truth and instead drowned herself in the dangerous denial that she'd not done anything wrong.

you were the problem. you'd not been supportive. you'd not have been able to do distance for four years. you had broken up with her and it was the right thing for both of you.

did alessia believe a word of that? never. but without you there to ground her all she could do was to continue to affirm these things over and over, desperate to convince herself that you were the vilian in her story.

she'd told her family not to mention UNC to you from the moment she'd signed that contract, claiming she was keeping it as a secret to everyone and planned to tell all of her friends at the same time not wanting anyone feeling left out.

they'd been surprised at this of course, and alessia lied through her teeth saying she'd mentioned thinking about maybe going overseas for football and you were supportive, but that she hadn't confirmed anything yet and this was an entirely new situation for her to come to terms with and she needed time to do so, and her family respected that.

of course they weren't to know that alessia didn't just love you, she was in love with you. they didn't know that when she left she'd have been leaving her girlfriend behind, not her best friend. they were none the wiser of what alessia was giving up, of how much her heart ached at the thought of you, the tears that pricked at the back of her eyes at any mention of your name.

if anything that was yet another regret she held, not coming clean to her family about the fact you weren't just her best friend, at the time you were her everything and so much more.

alessia knew you meant as much to her family as you did to her, you were their second daughter and they adored you. they wouldn't have cared that the two of you were more than just best friends, alessia had known that from the moment she first kissed you and realised she loved you the way she was supposed to love boys.

and maybe if they had known the truth about the two of you they might have been able to talk some sense into her about what she did, what she lost, maybe stopped her from making such a life altering mistake.

because you weren't the villian in her story, you were the victim. and it had taken a lot of years of self work and reflection for alessia to completely accept that. accept that she was the problem, it was her mistake, her who had broken your heart and caused you an unthinkable amount of hurt and pain.

and alessia wasn't sure this was something she could ever forgive herself for.

"alessia." you pushed her off you suddenly, your lips separating with a gentle smack. you stepped away when she tried to reach out for you again, face flushed bright red and lips slightly swollen.

"we can't. that was a huge mistake." you forced out, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to quieten your mind enough to remember where you were, why this was wrong and for once embrace the pain it was making you feel.

"but-" "no lessi." her heart stopped at the nickname, something she'd not heard in years and her knees almost buckled and hit the floor at the implosion of emotions that came with it.

you however regretted it the moment the slip up left your tongue, quick to correct yourself as not to give her any false hope.

"alessia. that was a mistake, i really can't do this. you need to leave now, please!" you turned away from her, back hunched over as your hands gripped the back of the sofa so hard your knuckles turned white.

"you kissed me." alessia reminded, fists balled by her sides as you felt her gaze burn the back of your neck. "i know. which is exactly why you need to leave, i can't do this with you again." you whispered back, holding back the tears which threatened to spill over as that every familiar ache in your chest started again, something you'd not felt in years.

"but why? i know i royally fucked everything up. i hurt you, i left you and i broke you, and there isn't a day that i don't regret that more than anything." alessia started and you tensed as you felt her stand closer, hand gently ghosting your back before thinking better of it as her touch disapeared.

"i'm not that same young selfish reckless teenager anymore. maybe you were right and we don't know each other in some ways, so just let me show you that i've changed. please! i've just gotten you back i can't lose you again." alessia all but begged as the room began to spin and your eyes slammed shut, a thick silence falling between the two of you momentarily, and then something in you clicked.

"you haven't gotten me back though alessia." you spun around so quickly it caught the blonde striker off guard as she stumbled over her feet trying to step back.

"you will never understand just how you made me feel. you made me feel about two centimeters tall, like i wasn't worth anything, wasn't worth telling of your grand new journey, after years of loving you and being in love with you that i wasn't even worth a goodbye!" you spat, hurt replaced by anger as years of bottled emotions suddenly exploded.

alessia remained silent, knowing she deserved to take all of this and more as her feet stayed rooted in place and you advanced on her.

"and now you want to tell me about change? regret? your hurt? losing me? getting me back?" you laughed now, though your tone was anything but humorous as you shoved at her chest, the taller girl barely moving as you did.

"fuck you! you will never know just how much it hurt alessia. because you didn't think about me, you didn't care about me and you left me!" you yelled, shoving her again as her eyes welled with tears but she refused to break your eyeline.

"and because you left me you weren't there when i needed you. you weren't there for my first day of university, you weren't there for my graduation, you weren't there when my fucking dad died, when he left me too!" you were screaming now, your voice hoarse and cracked but now the dam had spilled over there was no way of stopping it from overflowing.

"and i hate that you were the only person i wanted to tell, the only person i wanted to hold me and tell me it was going to be okay. it had been nearly two years and i still wasn't over you, i still wanted you to be there even as my best friend if nothing more, but you weren't!" your voice broke, tears gushing down your face as alessia bit down on her bottom lip which trembled, tears spilling over in her ocean blue eyes.

"my siblings had partners to turn to, they had their own support systems. i had my friends but they weren't you, no one has ever been you and i hate you for that. because you aren't my person, if you were you'd have never done what you did." you poked her sharply, sniffling and wiping your nose with your sleeve, hand trembling as you did so.

"when he died my mum pushed everyone away. i needed her to tell me it was going to be okay, i needed her tell me we were going to be okay without him and she didn't, she couldn't. so i had to be the parent and i picked up the pieces, i organised the funeral, i watched her crumble and break and become a shell of the woman she once was. and i did it alone, at twenty!" you yelled, fists raising to hit the girl as she grabbed your hands, holding them tightly in her own.

and at that you crumbled, dropped to the ground and curled into a ball, the grief of not one but two losses now hitting you in waves, barely able to keep your head above water as you drowned in your own emotions.

without a second thought alessia was sat by your side, pulling you in between her legs as she wrapped herself tightly around you, her front pressed to your back as you fought her, elbowing and yelling and swearing for her to get off but she refused.

and when you were unable to fight her anymore, you gave in. your sobs echoed around the apartment as the blonde buried her face in your hair, her lips whispering apologies over and over as your entire body wracked and convulsed with grief, finally allowing yourself to actually feel everything for the first time in a long time.

you weren't sure how long you sat there for, but with time you ran out of tears to cry and your head started to come back down to ground level, your breaths shallow but starting to even out as your eyes throbbed, red and puffy.

it was then you remembered who it was that was currently holding you, who it was that was whispering over and over how sorry she was, how strong you were. so you pushed her off, the blonde now allowing you to as she shuffled back a little, wanting to give you space.

"sorry." was all you managed to get out, rubbing your eyes and taking a deep shaky breath, your chin resting on your knees which were tucked to your chest. alessia watched you carefully, fingers twitching to reach out and comfort you again.

"it's not your fault he died, and its not your fault that i needed to step up and be there for my mum. but i did need you alessia, even as my best friend who i'd known since we were little. my best friend who adored my dad and knew what a loss it was that he wasn't there anymore. and because of what happened between us, you weren't there." you forced out, avoiding her gaze as you sighed, your head starting to pound and a dull ache settling behind your eyes.

"i wanted to be." alessia finally spoke up, head lifting and eyes roaming your deflated form. "my mum called to tell me when she found out, and the first thing i did was try to call you. but you changed your number and i took that as a sign you didn't want me having your new one." alessia admitted, your gaze remaining trained to the floor.

"i wanted to fly home for the funeral, to be there for you. but it had been two years and i didn't want to make it worse, i didn't even know what i would have said. my mum told me it was only going to be a small ceremony and only she and my dad were going, but i made her promise me that she would look after you in my absence." alessia continued, playing with her fingers as her hands sat dormant in her lap.

"she tried to check in. but my mum, she was my priority that day, i didn't focus on anyone else, couldn't do anything else. i gave my speech and hers, and i went home and cooked her dinner, which she refused to eat. my brother took over so i went to my room,and i didn't leave it for three days." you confessed, refusing to look at her knowing exactly the pity which would shine in her eyes.

"it was a really shit year. the university gave me extensions on everything and i took a leave of compassion for a few months, my friends did their best to help me. but i spent every day with mum trying anything to bring her back. i grieved silently and by myself, everyone else had their own emotions to be responsible for i didn't need to burden them with mine." your voice was barely above a whisper now, fiddling with your necklace as you spoke.

"your mum tried to help, all of mums friends did but she pushed them away too, isolated herself away from the world, away from us. but then i remember one morning i woke up to the smell of something burning and thought she was trying to set the house alight-" a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

"-thought she might have been burning dads stuff, she slept in the spare room and we weren't allowed in her room, didn't touch his things for months. but i raced down and she's there in the kitchen, trying to make eggs but she forgot about them and they burnt to the pan." you let out a small chuckle now, sighing quietly.

"but it was the first morning she'd gotten out of bed by herself. and when she saw me she hugged me, told me good morning like there wasn't a small fire in the corner. but it was the first time she seemed even a little bit alive again, she'd even gone out the front and grabbed the paper." you wiped away a stray tear with the corner of your sleeve.

"then slowly things started to shift, she went to get groceries, started to at least sleep in her room again. it took time but she reached out again for help, started to sift through his things, yelled at me for staying home instead of going to class. i started to do night classes to try and catch up, i wanted to graduate with my friends and i knew that he'd not want me to stop because of him not being there to tell me to keep going." you paused, the image of him briefly flickering through your mind as you gently touched your hip where his name was hidden, tattooed only for your eyes to see.

"i was at your graduation." your head snapped up at that, a frown forming as your eyebrows creased and alessia's face paled, unsure if she should have confessed. "what?" you managed to force out.

"i'd come home by then. i still spoke to a few of the girls from secondary school, not as much but we caught up once i moved back home. i asked one day if they wanted to get lunch and they said they were going to your graduation-" the back of alessias neck prickled as she spoke.

"-i hadn't spoke with anyone about you for a long time. they didn't invite me with them, i hadn't ever spoke to them about it but i assumed you'd told them we weren't...well friends." alessia winced, unsure how to really word things in the right way.

"but i looked it up, saw it was an open invite. so i went and i sat right up the back, i saw your family all there but i didn't dare to say hi. i didn't want to ruin your day but i wanted to be there, and i was so proud watching you walk across that stage and get your degree." your eyes met for a fleeting moment as a soft smile graced the older girls face.

you really wished she hadn't told you that, feeling yet another twist of the knife in your back as a weirdly familiar feeling settled in your stomach at her confession, but it wasn't a feeling you were going to give the luxury of developing any further, you couldn't.

"whatever trust i had in you is dead alessia, i'm really sorry i kissed you but i can't do this again. i can't sit here and be hugged and comforted by you, i can't kiss you like nothing happened and reminisce on old memories, i can't risk giving you a chance to hurt me again, to leave me again." you admitted quietly, looking away from her as the striker remained silent, thinking over her words carefully before she responded.

"i'd like you to leave now please alessia, please." you whispered, head hung low, shoulders sagging as you heard her start to move beside you. your eyes widened as you felt her hand gently touch your cheek, the blonde squatted down beside you.

"alessia-" you started softly, moving away her hand. "i'll leave, but i'm not leaving again. i live here now, ten minutes down the road." alessia started, standing up as you remained seated on the floor.

"i have caused you an inexcusable amount of pain and hurt and i know that, thats mine to bare forever and you're right i will never understand how you felt, and how you feel." she continued, hovering a few feet away as you looked into the kitchen.

"but i'm not going anywhere. please take some time, as much as you need, i promise i won't reach out or ambush you or anything. take some time and think, because i'd really like the opportunity to be in your life again. i don't deserve it and i'm selfish for even asking-" she swallowed the lump in her throat, hand lingering on the handle of your front door.

"-but ultimately if you don't want anything to do with me, i'll respect that and i will leave you be. but i live here now, my life is here now and so is yours and if you give me the chance to be in it i promise you that i will spend every single day making it up to you and showing you just how much you mean to me." alessia's voice softened, and she turned the handle as you spared her a glance, a small nod all she needed as she sent you a sad smile.

and with that, she was gone.

sure to her word alessia left you be. a week passed without anything further, your mum even laying off about everything as your sister announced she was pregnant. you were happy for her of course always wanting to be an aunty, but overall you were grateful she had given your mum something else to focus on than pestering you about the fake date you 'went' on.

you tried to keep busy. that first week you threw yourself head first into work, staying back later and starting earlier, going out for dinner and drinks with your colleagues again, feeling incredibly welcomed into the much smaller community of teachers than you had in australia.

you'd made friends with some of your colleagues there but you'd also made the mistake of trying to date one of them. you'd gone out a few times and everything seemed okay, nothing was labelled but you were enjoying your time together and getting to know one another.

but then after a particularly rambunctious staff christmas party and one or five too many tequila shots you drunkenly decided to sleep with a different colleague and well, it didn't end well for you.

you swiftly learned why dating your co-workers was now a no go, painstakingly awkward staff meetings and social events where you knew others were whispering about you tainted your experience of what was supposed to be your dream job and in a beautiful new country.

determined to prove them wrong you'd tried to suck up to the principal and the head of department, accepting extra shifts, after school bus duties, playground duties, each offer adding more and more onto your growing workload.

with this being your first real job out of university besides your placements, and younger than most of your colleagues you were naieve to think you could handle it all amongst being so far away from home.

you burnt yourself out, fast. so when the bell rang to end your final school term of your second year teaching abroad, you'd already handed in your resignation and ended your lease early, booking a one way ticket home.

your mum of course had been warning you from the get go about looking after yourself, and you'd brushed her off time and time again that you were fine, that you could handle it, that you were loving it.

and yet the reality was far from that.

when you'd finally come clean, unable to keep your head above water anymore feeling as though you were failing yourself and your students. you'd called your mum and come clean, and she hadn't tried to talk you out of staying or coming home, knowing you were an adult and this needed to be your decision.

so when you'd made that decision she was as supportive as you needed her to be, going to open houses and inspections, face timing you and sending videos, sending in your applications until finally one was accepted.

your mum had of course assured you were more than welcome to move back in with her but for the sake of your own independence having become quite accustomed to living by yourself, you'd as gently as you could shut that down quite quickly.

but back to present day and that second week without any contact from alessia, she lived rent free in your head.

you once again tried to busy yourself, desperate to keep the tall blonde striker out of sight and out of mind only the more you tried to push any thought of her away the more she popped up.

true to her word alessia had steered clear, not showing up to help out leah that second friday much to both your relief and maybe disappointment? you weren't sure why your face fell a little seeing a different one of leahs team mates stepping in, your head was an absolute mess.

so that night you finally let your thoughts wander rogue.

curled up on your lounge with a mug of tea, your walls slipping for a moment as you indulged yourself in remembering the good times the two of you had. you recalled certain things with a smile on your face, hours passing as you lay there thinking it over and over.

you jumped as your phone began to vibrate by your head and your stomach lurched seeing her name on the screen. realizing the time, worry seeped into you that she might be drunk again, calling you as an afterthought.

so you let the call screen out, releasing a breath you didn't realise you were holding in when she didn't call again. but moments later, your phone pinged with a message.

iMessage from alessia russo - 10:04pm. hi. i'm so incredibly sorry to call you so late i probably should have just sent a message, and i am absolutely still giving you space. i'm not sure if you've spoken to your mum but mine called me earlier about another family dinner at your mums house this time? next week i think. my mum really misses you and i think she'd love to see you if that was something you were open to? i can very easily make other plans to not be there so you aren't uncomfortable.

iMessage from alessia russo - 10:05pm. you of course don't have to go, and you don't have to reply to this either. i'm not trying to push you into anything either, but you do know what my mums like and she really does want to see you

iMessage from alessia russo - 10:05pm. you always were her favourite daughter

iMessage from alessia russo - 10:06pm. sorry that was probably a bit forward, and weird.

iMessage from alessia russo - 10:07pm. it's alessia by the way

you felt a smile tug at your lips as your eyes scanned the incoming messages, imagining the way her cheeks would have flushed in embarrassment the more she rambled on had the messages been in person.

alessia on the other hand was wincing as she sent you yet another message despite her promise she would leave you be.

she watched as the text bubbles appeared, and left, and appeared again, and then left. "you alright less?" lotte chuckled, sat on the ground trying to build a new bookshelf, having come over to spend the evening with her long time friend, considering her more a sister.

“why am i such an idiot.” alessia sighed, flopping backwards into the sofa and covering her face with her hands. “is this about her again?” lotte asked gently, aware that this was quite the sensitive topic with the striker especially as of late.

before she could reply alessia felt her phone vibrate on her stomach, turning it face up to look her eyes widened and she quickly threw it to the other side of the lounge as if it was red hot and had burnt her.

“okay what was that about?” lotte asked with a concerned gaze. “she’s calling me!” alessia panicked, lotte rolling her eyes. “…so answer it.”

with a hasty nod alessia practically dove onto her phone, clicking accept right on the last ring and scrambling to her feet, hurrying off to her bedroom for a touch more privacy.

“hello?” she answered, composing herself for a moment.

“hi.”

“hello.”

“you already said that.”

“hi?”

“i already said that.” alessia settled somewhat hearing the lighter tone of voice which you were using today.

“so i got your messages.” you trailed off, pausing for a moment to think what you wanted to say, regret washing over you that you hadn’t just messaged her back.

“sorry there’s so many. i promise i really did mean to-“

“-give me space. and you have, I know that alessia it’s okay, I’m not upset with you for messaging.” you assured her calmly, the blonde nodding at your words which of course you weren’t able to see.

“so, the dinner then.” alessia spoke, certain that’s what you’d been returning her call to talk about, the striker already having confirmed with lotte that the two of them would easily be able to spend the evening together instead so you’d be able to go to the dinner and see her family without seeing her.

though to alessia that felt about as easy as swallowing a watermelon whole.

“yeah look i really appreciate you messaging to clarify things. my mum hasn’t mentioned any dinner but i’m seeing her tomorrow so I’ve no doubt it’ll come up then.” you started, picking nervously at your nail beds as you readied yourself for your next words.

“-I was calling to ask if you wanted to grab a coffee or something this week. i’ve had my time to think and i actually do have some things i’d like to talk with you about, but in person.” you asked, chewing the inside of your cheek somewhat nervously as you awaited her answer.

“oh! um yeah, yeah that sounds good. i’d like that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

part seven

#alessia russo x reader #woso x reader #woso #alessia russo #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #engwnt #arsenal wfc #awfc

762 notes · View notes