#I mean they’re practically married already | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

queenpiranhadon · 28 days

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𖥔 ⎸⎸ 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬, 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 ⎸⎸𖥔

A/N: You all voted on this poll, and this poll, and this poll and after a LOT of voting ((again) again) , I wrote this for all of you :D Big thanks to both @zanarkandskylines and @a-had-matter for beta reading this- your support means the world to me😭 Here's my masterlist! Divider made by @cafekitsune

Warning(s): f!reader,Bakugou and reader are dating, meeting his parents for the first time, mentions of anxiety, reader’s a procrastination queen, Bakugou’s whipped lmao, characters might be a little ooc, Mitsuki loves reader loll, Masaru and reader are the real besties here though, mentions of getting married, Katsuki calls reader baby, slight cursing.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Girlfriend!Reader

To say you were nervous was an understatement.

A week prior, your loving boyfriend of 3 months had invited you to have dinner with him and his parents, as they “were up his ass to meet you” (his words, not yours). You giggled originally, finding amusement in his lament about his overbearing parents, but you knew he loved them from the lack of malice in his words. And yet, after an entire week, only now, three hours before Bakugou would come to pick you up, did the full realization of the situation hit you like a truck.

You were going to meet his parents.

You flitted around your room, trying to find something to wear, your entire closet seemed repulsive to you now- nothing seemed right for the occasion.

You groaned, your attention piquing when you see a text come in. Flopping down onto your bed, you pick your phone up, reading the message.

Katsu🧡💥: Oi, the old hag wanted me to let you know that she’s making curry. That okay for you?

You feel butterflies erupt in the pit of your stomach from his thoughtfulness, even though small gestures like this should seem normal to you now. It probably never would, the explosive male you had grown to love would never cease to get you flustered.

You: Okay! Sounds great! I bet you get your cooking skills from her ;)

Katsu🧡💥: Shut up dummy

Katsu🧡💥: Have you picked something out to wear yet?

You deadpan, knowing he would scold you for procrastinating, but you sigh, there was no point in lying to him. Even over text, he would know if you were telling the truth or not.

You: So about that...

Katsu🧡💥: Baby, they’re not going to think less of you based on your outfit. Plus, you could wear a damn cardboard box and you’d still look hot. They’ll love you, so quit your panicking.

You feel your cheeks grow warm at the compliment, but Bakugou’s rough but caring words didn’t help your predicament.

You: Thank you, Katsuki- but I seriously can’t find anything 😭 What do I do??

You can practically see his eyes rolling through the three dots that dance across the screen.

Katsu🧡💥: You’re lucky I know you so well- bought you a new sweater this morning. I’ll come over early and drop it off for you.

You: Katsuki thank you so much!!! You didn’t have to though...

Katsu🧡💥: Shut up dumbass, I’ll be there in 30 mins, go do what you gotta do in the meantime.

You smile at that, warmth pooling in your heart as you set your phone down on the side table, standing up from your bed and grabbing a towel before heading to your bathroom to take a shower.

***

Katsuki’s already there, waiting for you by your kitchen island, scrolling through his phone, before looking up at you with your hair wrapped in a towel to prevent it from dripping everywhere, along with another to clothe your body.

You smile happily, giggling as his nose scrunches when you press your dewy skin against him in a hug.

“Oi, get off of me,” he grumbles “Yer still all wet.”

You giggle, knowing he doesn’t mean it when he encircles you in his arms, inhaling the scent of your body wash. He places a small kiss atop the crown of your head before, reaching behind him to grab the bag on his counter, handing it to you.

“Here baby, got yer sweater for ya.” he says, watching as your eyes light up after rummaging through the contents.

You squeal happily, planting a kiss on his cheek before running back into your bedroom, knowing exactly what to pair with the article of clothing.

“Thanks Katsuki!! Give me like 30 minutes!” you chirp, before disappearing into your bedroom.

He chuckled under his breath, and ran his fingers over the thin gold chain you bought for him for your “one-week-aversary" (your words, not his). Originally, he had scoffed at you, wondering why you would spend your money on him for something so trivial, but you just brushed it off, grinning saying “It’s not trivial Katsuki! This is my way of showing my love!” You were just so cute, he loved you so much it hurts, and yet you both had only been dating for a few months.

You were going to be the death of him, that’s for sure.

***

After you got ready, you both got into the car, sitting in comfortable silence the entire way, other than the soft music that played from the aux cord.

Katsuki could tell you were nervous, the way your fingers fiddled with the ribbon surrounding the chocolate you bought for his parents was a dead giveaway.

And yet, he knew that nothing he would say would alleviate your stress, so he remained silent, knowing your worries would be gone as soon as the old hag got her claws on you.

The car reaches to a stop in the driveway, and Katsuki almost wants to take out his phone and snap a picture as your eyes grow wide and your lips part by the sheer size of his house.

“Woah...” you breathe, in awe “ I knew your parents were successful, but you never told me they were rich.”

Katsuki flushes, exiting the car and opening the door for you. “S’nothin.” he says, averting his gaze from yours, as if he wasn’t imagining living in a nice house with you in the future.

You interlock your fingers with his, relishing in the comfort of his calloused fingertips brushing over your knuckles, his hand squeezing yours as a final reassurance before bringing his hand up to aggressively knock on the door.

“OI HAG OPEN UP!” he yells, only for the door to swing open, revealing a beautiful woman with a striking resemblance to the man next to you.

“Katsuki Bakugou yell like that one more time and I will-” the woman, who you assume to be Katsuki’s mother, notices you then, all anger directed towards her son melting away once she sets her eyes on you.

Her scarlet eyes sparkled as they looked over you once over in approval, rushing towards you with a big grin on her face and enveloping you in a crushing hug. You let out a squeak in surprise, but giggled, reciprocating it immediately. Your worries were gone in an instant, just as Katsuki had predicted.

“Ah, where are my manners! Call me Mitsuki, I’m the brat’s mother.” she says warmly, much to Katsuki’s disdain as he objects to the nickname; Mitsuki ignores him as if he wasn’t there though.

You laugh at your pouty boyfriend’s reaction and give her your name, smiling back at her like she was an old friend.

“Masaru! She’s here~!” Mitsuki practically sings, clutching onto your arm, leading you into the kitchen with Katsuki trailing behind like a lost puppy.

She turns to you again. “So glad you’re here dear, the brat needs someone to keep his head out of his ass.” she says, rolling her eyes for emphasis.

You snort at that, completely at ease as Mitsuki treats you like the daughter she never had.

You see a timid man in the kitchen, who is most likely Masaru, Katsuki’s dad.

You both greet each other, the brunette man much calmer than his wife, and he smiles at you and squeezes your shoulder as an awkward show of affection. While you two converse, however, Katsuki is already at war with his mother, both Masaru and yourself just stand by the island silent; you both know the drill.

“SHUT UP YOU OLD HAG- STOP SMOTHERING MY GIRLFRIEND!” Katsuki yells.

“DON’T TALK TO YOUR MOTHER LIKE THAT KATSUKI, YOU KNOW DAMN WELL THAT GIRL IS AN ANGEL FOR STICKING WITH THAT BRATTY ASS OF YOURS.” Mitsuki retorts, irate.

You and Masaru look at each other, the latter mouthing to you if you wanted to help set the table, to which you nodded vehemently, unsure of what to do as the angry blonde duo continue to yell at each other.

Setting the table, you and Masaru trade stories of how you’ve both had to wrangle your respective partners to make sure they didn’t murder anyone, the both of you breaking into laughter as he recounts a story of how he once had to physically pick up his wife by the waist and haul her out of an ice cream store because they messed up his order.

You thought it was completely adorable, seeing how much Katsuki took after Mitsuki, telling Masaru of a similar story of when you and Katsuki went to a carnival, and you got scammed during one of the games.

Eventually the two blondes calmed down, joining you and Masaru in the dining room, where the food was all plated and ready to be eaten.

Midway through the conversation, you feel Katsuki’s hand slide over to squeeze yours under the table, a small gesture that you knew meant I told you so.

You refrain from rolling your eyes, enjoying the company of the Bakugous. The night seemed to drag on for ages (his words, not yours), and you found yourself blending in seamlessly in with Katsuki’s parents. And though he would never admit it, it warmed his heart to see someone he loved so much get along so well with his family. Things were going smoothly, until something Mitsuki says catches you off guard.

“So, when are you going to put a ring on her finger, huh brat?”

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fetusgooseandjuice · 7 days

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Soulmates

Pairings: Knight!Natasha Romanoff x Princess!Reader

Summary: A silly dream you and Natasha shared as kids turns out to be your destiny.

Word Count: 5.05k

Warnings: Injuries — (broken bones, cuts, bruises)

Author’s Note: Another one that’s been collecting dust. At this point I’m just deep cleaning my drafts I hope you like it 💕

Natasha and you had been raised alongside each other since birth.

As the royal heir you were born the kingdoms Princess, and would one day step up after your parents stepped down from their positions as King and Queen.

Meanwhile, once Natasha became of age her father began her training as she was meant to become the young Princesses Royal Knight.

Both of your families had always been close friends. Natasha’s father was your father’s best solider, so you and the redhead had practically grown up together.

The bond between your two families meant that you and the young knight spent a lot of time together. So much time that as you grew up, you and Natasha inevitably fell for each other and only continued to as you got older.

Your parents knew you two had something special from the gecko, but no one knew if it was just puppy love, or if it’d turn out to be the love story you’d only ever hear about in books.

That thought always took up a space in your mind, just like it was right now.

How you got so lucky to be the one in a billion to actually live one of those love stories.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Nat! Natty, wait for me!” you call out to the slightly older girl.

Natasha always teased you for being younger than her even if it was only by a few months. She stopped in her tracks and turned around, waiting a moment for you to catch up to her as your feet quickly patted against the pavement outside.

“Sorry, princess,” she gazed at you once you reached her. “I’m just really excited to see where our parents are taking us.”

Your cheeks flushed a pink tint at the pet name and your heart fluttered. People were supposed to formally address you as Princess since that’s who you were, but whenever Natasha called you that you both knew it had a different meaning.

Natasha always had such a soft spot for you. Some might call it puppy love, but both of your parents believed it was the cutest thing to ever exist.

As she had a couple inches over you, you had to latch onto her arm and lean up on your tippy-toes to peck her cheek. This time it was Natasha’s turn to blush.

“Well, now we can go down there together.” you said and gave her a sweet smile that made her heart double in beats per minute.

Both of your mothers playfully shook their heads to themselves as they made their way over to you, watching the interaction.

“She’s a smooth little girl.” Melina commented with a chuckle.

Your mother chuckled, “Yeah, I don’t know where she got that from because it definitely was not her father.”

You two on the other hand were completely oblivious of their presence as you became immersed in chasing each other around the castle garden, your loud giggles rumbling through air.

“Don’t let him hear you say that.” Melina laughed along with your mother.

The two women watched as Natasha caught up to you and pulled you into her arms. “They’re too cute.” your mother cooed and Melina nodded her head, smiling widely.

At some point Natasha had picked a yellow flower from the grass and place it in your hair with sophistication, admiring how it just accentuated your already beautiful features.

She brought you into a tight hug and dramatically pleaded, “Marry me, Y/n! Marry me so nothing will ever come between us and we can be together forever and ever!”

“Yes! A trillion times yes, Natasha! I will marry you even if it’s the last thing I do!” You theatrically declared, mimicking a woman in a television show.

Natasha pulled back and leaned in with her lips exaggeratedly puckered out way too far and cheeks puffed out so much they could’ve popped, but before she could reach yours she was lifted up into her father’s arms.

“Alright, you little player. You’re not quite ready for that one just yet.” Alexei teased the young redhead.

Natasha scoffed. “I am not a player! Y/n is my fiancé and I am going to make her my wife! I put a flower on it and everything!” she argued with a pout.

That was when your own father scooped you up into his arms and spun you around. “Aren’t you just the enchantress? You’ve got little Natasha all lovestruck and heart eyed. Poor girl.”

You giggled before you heard Natasha call out in annoyance. “I am not little!”

Amused looks spread across your mothers’ faces at the precious scene. At the time, no one knew that your’ and Natasha’s pretend was destined to become a reality.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

(Time jump to around 11 years old)

“Nat, are you sure you know we’re you’re going?” you asked, hesitation evident in your voice as she guided you by your hand through the trees.

This would be the third time you asked her this question, so she playfully rolled her eyes at your uncertainty.

“Yes, Y/n, I come here all the time after training. Stop worrying your pretty little head so much, you’ll give yourself a headache.” Natasha assured.

Normally her sweet talk would have you swooning, but this time you were too distracted by the uneasiness you felt about where you were. Natasha had dragged you out to the forest behind the kingdom, saying she had something special that she wanted you to see.

You two had snuck away when your parents were busy, so no one even knew where you were, but you of course agreed because you trust the redhead with everything you have.

“Okay, we’re here.” Natasha’s voice brought you out of your thoughts.

You looked around in confusion, seeing nothing besides an abnormally large tree.

“What is it that you wanted to show me?” you finally spoke.

The young knight chuckled at your slightly furrowed eyebrows, “Follow me.” was all she said before beginning to climb up the tall tree.

“What— Natasha what’re you doing?”

“Come on, this is the only way you’ll see it.” she attempted to encourage you.

You were still very unsure about it so you just watched from the ground as she made her way up the tree. She eventually stopped and made herself comfortable on one of the limbs. “I don’t think this is a good idea.” you projected your voice up to her.

“Come on, Y/n, trust me! The view is beautiful from up here. It’s like you can the whole world!” Natasha called down to you.

You contemplated once more before finally giving in. You followed the path you had watched the redhead take and began climbing the tree. However, you had only made it about halfway when a branch you had grabbed onto began to snap.

Before you could even yell for Natasha like you had originally intended, the branch snapped completely and you yelped instead as you fell.

Your mind had barely registered the young knight calling out your name when you hit the ground. The air was knocked out of your lungs, but you noticed the sharp pain that shot up your arm the most.

“Y/n!” Natasha panicked, and when she heard you cry out tears she quickly made her way down to you.

The words to ask you what was hurting were on the tip of her tongue, but that question was answered when she saw you holding your arm and a few scratches on the side of your face.

Natasha didn’t know what to do.

You were sobbing and clearly in a lot of pain, so she lifted you into her arms bridal style and ran as fast as her legs would take her back to the kingdom without causing you any further discomfort.

Ignoring all the looks from passing townspeople, she bolted up the castle stairs and rushed inside.

“Mom! Mom, dad, where are you! Mom!” Natasha frantically searched every room for either of your parents.

They must’ve heard her shouting because they exited the meeting room and saw the young knight running straight towards them with you crying in her arms.

“Natasha, what happened?” Melina asked her daughter with furrowed eyebrows.

“I wanted to show Y/n this really nice view, but we had to climb a tree in order to see it. She didn’t even want to do it in the first place but I convinced her to, and she fell and I think she hurt her arm.” Natasha explained to the four adults as your father gently took you into his arms.

She began to tear up and followed them to the infirmary, “I— I just wanted to show her something I thought she’d like. I didn’t mean for this to happen, I didn’t mean for her to get hurt.”

Your mother placed a comforting hand on the young girls shoulder to get her attention, “It’s okay, Natasha. We know you’d never put her in harms way on purpose, but you did good bringing her back because now we can help her.”

Natasha wiped away the tears in her eyes, although it was no use because more began to fall anyway, “It’s all my fault, I’m the one who took her out there to begin with. She’d be okay if it weren’t for me.”

“Now, now, Natasha. Stop being so hard on yourself. I’m sure Y/n won’t blame you once she’s all patched up.” Your mother reassured, and she was right.

A couple hours later your parents informed the young redhead and her parents of your condition. The force of the impact when you hit the ground had broken your arm, and you had a few light scratches on your cheek that should quickly fade.

The doctor gave your parents some medication to help with any pain you had, and allowed them to take you back to your own bedroom. When Natasha was asked if she would like to see you she of course said yes, but couldn’t ignore the nerves she felt.

Would you be upset with her?

Your mothers led Natasha to your bedroom and opened the door for her to enter, but she hesitated. She felt as though her feet were glued to the floor.

“Are you sure?” the knight in training asked. “I don’t think she’d want to see me.”

Your mother crouched down to Natasha’s height to look at her. “Can I let you in on a little secret?” she said and Natasha nodded. “Between you and me I think you’re the first person she’d wanna see.”

The young girl sat with those words for a moment longer and contemplated before finally stepping into you room. When she reached your beside she realized that you were sound asleep.

Natasha’s eyes scanned the peaceful expression on your face. Your eyelashes just barely brushed against your cheeks, and your slow breathing was heard through the quietness of the room.

Her gaze traveled down to the white cast around your arm and a sense of guilt washed over her, but she tried to disregard that feeling and just focus on you.

She noticed a lock of hair that had started to fall in front of your face, so Natasha tucked it behind your ear. However, she regretted that decision when your eyes fluttered open and met hers.

Your lips pulled up into a small smile. “Hi, Natty.”

“Hey,” she practically whispered.

You frowned at her vague and quiet response. “What’s wrong?” you wondered.

Natasha sighed and let her eyes travel back to your injured arm. “I’m sorry. I should’ve listened when you said you didn’t wanna go up, and now you’re hurt because of me.”

“Hey,” you sat up and placed a hand over the young knights hand. Her heart skipped a beat at the contact and she met your gaze again. “It was an accident, Nat. I don’t blame you for this, and I’m okay now.”

“I know. I just hated seeing you in so much pain knowing I talked you into doing it.”

You looked at her with soft eyes that instantly calmed her racing mind. “Well you did carry me all the way back, so I guess that makes up for it. All of those extra hours you put into your training finally paid off.” you both giggled.

Maybe this whole situation wasn’t as bad as Natasha convinced herself it was.

“You wanna sign my cast? It looks kind of boring right now.” you asked.

Natasha smiled and nodded her head, looking around the room for something to write with. She spotted a red marker on your large dresser and grabbed it before returning to your side.

She gently took your arm into her hand and signed her name, attempting to draw a few hearts around it, but they just ended up uneven and lopsided.

Nevertheless, they were special.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

(Time jump to 16 Years Old)

“Mom!” Natasha called out as she rushed down the stairs, nearly tripping on the last step whilst she tucked her maroon button-up shirt into her black slacks. “Does this look okay? Should I try on a different one?”

Melina examined the outfit her daughter was wearing before smiling at her, “You look wonderful, sweetheart. Stop worrying so much, you’ll make yourself sick.”

“Are you wearing my pants?” Yelena said as he walked into the room alongside Alexei.

Natasha glared at her sister while slipping on the jacket and straightening out the collar of her shirt with the help of Melina.

“Your mother is right, honey. I’m sure Y/n will love it.” Alexei chimed in.

Today was your sixteenth birthday, and your parents thought it would be the perfect opportunity to throw a ball to celebrate this milestone. Everyone in the kingdom received an invitation in the mail, but the Romanoffs were obviously at the top of the guest list.

Natasha was no doubt nervous. She so badly wanted to make an impression on you, but would never admit it to avoid her family’s very unfunny jokes.

Unfortunately for her, she didn’t have to disclose that information in order for her parents and sister to know that she and the young princess always had a thing for each other, even as little kids.

“Oh, so that’s why you stole my pants.” Yelena smirked. “So you could impress your little girlfriend.” she spoke in a teasing tone.

The young knight rolled her eyes, “She is not my girlfriend.”

“Well I suggest you try to change that before someone else decides to sweep her off her feet.”

Before Natasha could retaliate Melina saved her the trouble, “Alright you two, let’s get going before we’re late.” She ushered her family out the front door and gave Natasha a reassuring squeeze to her shoulder.

People were still making their way inside when they arrived. Your parents stood at the entrance welcoming people into the castle, and their eyes lit up when they saw their most dearest friends walking up the steps.

“Melina, Alexei, Natasha, Yelena! You’re finally here, thank you for coming!” Your father greeted the family while your mother gave each of them a quick hug.

“You all look lovely tonight.” she said.

“Oh, the same goes for you two as well.” Melina returned the compliment.

Your mother looked towards Natasha, “Y/n is still in her room getting ready and should be down in just a few minutes, but you’re welcome to go find her if you’d like.”

Natasha nodded, “Thank you, Mrs. Y/l/n.” she responded before moving past them to make her way to your room.

She knocked on the door and smiled to herself when she heard your comforting voice call out.

“Just a second!”

A few moments later the door opened and you stood face to face, “Nat!” you exclaimed happily and pulled her in for a tight hug.

“Hey, birthday girl.” Natasha chuckled. “Am I interrupting anything?”

You let her go and shook your head, “Not at all. I’m just about ready anyway.” you answered and returned to your spot in front of your mirror.

Natasha migrated further into the room and rested against your bed frame. “Well, you look amazing.” she said.

You turned to look back at her with a smile on your lips, “Thanks,” you replied and took in her attire. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

The young knight smiled and looked down while you went back to fixing your hair. Natasha tried her best not to stare, but that was proving to be difficult as she kept lifting her head to glance at you.

She decided to break the comfortable silence to distract herself. “Is now a good time for me to give you your gift? I know it’s not time to open presents yet, but I think it’ll look good with your dress.”

You looked back at her again, “Nat, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I knew you’d say that, but I wanted to.” Natasha moved to stand behind you before meeting your eyes through the mirror.

When she pulled something out of her pocket and gently placed it around your neck, you realized that it was a necklace, the charm attached shimmering in the light.

You looked down at the piece of jewelry in awe, “Oh Nat, it’s beautiful.” you said and turned around completely to face her.

“It looks even better on you.” she flattered. You couldn’t stop your cheeks from turning a light shade of pink and Natasha grinned at the effect she had on you.

It took a moment for you to gather your composure before taking her hand in yours. “Come on, there’s an entire party downstairs and I wanna see what kind of food they have.” you both giggled as you dragged her down the stairs and to the ballroom.

Hours later the party was now in full swing. You had received happy birthday wishes from so many people you lost count, and ate so many different desserts that you’d probably have a stomachache the next day.

When people began setting down their drinks to find space to dance, Natasha looked towards you and thought she’d take the opportunity to ask you to dance with her.

“May I have—” she started to say, but was interrupted when a young boy around your age approached you.

“Um, excuse me, Princess. Would you like to dance with me?” he asked, clearly nervous considering his fidgeting hands.

As much as you wanted to decline his offer, you felt obligated to accept as you were the kingdoms princess. You looked at Natasha with an apologetic expression and told her you’d be right back before following the boy.

Anyone that looked at the redhead would be able to tell she was annoyed— it was written all over here face.

So when she made her way over to her family, Yelena raised an eyebrow. “What’s up with you?”

The young knight sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, “Someone else decided to sweep her off her feet.”

All she could do was watch as you kept getting pulled away to dance with people. Whenever a song ended and you tried to make your way back over to her, someone else was by your side asking to dance. To both of you, it felt like forever before you were finally back together.

The song came to an end you were practically speed walking to where Natasha was standing off to the side in a successful attempt to avoid getting pulled away again.

“Hey, I’m so sorry. I swear they just kept coming out of no where.” you breathed out, gulping down your glass of water to catch your breath.

Natasha smiled and shook her head, “It’s okay, is it my turn now or are you too worn out?”

You playfully rolled your eyes and laughed, “Don’t be ridiculous, Natty.” you took her hand and led her to an empty space amongst other dancing people.

Her arms encircled your waist while yours wrapped loosely around her neck. Neither of you exactly knew how to dance, so you just gently swayed with the music.

The young knight found that the annoyance she was feeling early could no longer be felt now that she finally had you. She was too happy to focus on anything except you— but there was one other thing on her mind.

“Can I ask you something?” Natasha said.

You hummed, nodding your head. “Of course, Nat.”

She sighed contently and tightened her hold on you. “I think we both know that we’ve felt something for each other that’s more than best friends, even as little kids. I mean my parents still won’t let me forget about that time I asked you to marry me when we were what? Six?” she spoke and you both laughed at the memory.

“And I did say yes. Actually, if I recall correctly I was pretty enthusiastic about it too.” you giggled.

“Yeah, you were.” Natasha grinned. “But I wanted to know if you’d maybe wanna make our relationship official. You know, so I can be the only one you dance with at parties like these.” she asked hopefully.

You looked at her with a smirk plastered across your face and raised eyebrows. “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

“Well— yeah…I am.”

You smiled and laid your head on her shoulder, “I’d love nothing more, Nat.” you said and your answer brought an even bigger grin to her face.

What you didn’t know was that your mothers were watching the scene unfold from across the room, sipping on glasses of expensive wine.

Your mother playfully shook her head, “Like true soulmates.” she spoke and Melina hummed in agreement.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

(Two years later)

“Do you have to go?” you said sadly.

You stood on the dock clutching onto the young knight as if she’d disappear into thin air if you let go while she held you just as tight. Both of your families stood around talking, watching the saddening encounter.

Natasha was about to leave for her first ever commission. It was an overseas assignment for her to prove her ability to protect the kingdoms Princess, so as much as she didn’t want to leave you, she had to.

The young knight cupped the back of your head with one hand and pressed her nose into your hair, basking in the comforting scent of your shampoo to soak up her last few moments with you before her departure.

“You’ll be okay, Y/n. Three weeks, and then I’ll be back with you again.” she assured.

“Three weeks without you is too long.” you said. You and Natasha had always been inseparable, so it was hard knowing that she’d be so far away.

“I know, princess, I know.” Natasha whispered into your hair. It was only when she heard you sniffle and felt tears wetting her neck that she pulled back to look at you. “Hey,” she cooed and cupped your cheeks.

“It’ll go by so fast you won’t even remember I’m gone. Yelena promised me she’d keep you company, and she basically is me because she’s my sister, so hopefully you won’t miss me too much.”

That made a small smile pull at your lips. “No offense to Yelena, but no one could ever compare to you, Nat. I’ll miss you so much, and what if you get hurt over there?” you said.

Natasha smiled and kissed your forehead, “I’ll be okay, princess. It’ll all be okay, I promise.”

Her thumbs swiped under your eyes to wipe away your tears before she closed the distance between the two of you and connected your lips.

You both knew you had to keep it short and sweet considering both of your families were still there.

“I love you so much, Nat.” you whispered.

She gazed lovingly at you, “I love you more, my beautiful girl. So much more.” the words fell from Natasha’s lips ever so softly.

You were unfortunately brought out of your little bubble with Natasha much sooner than you would’ve liked when over her shoulder, you caught sight of Natasha’s commander walking off of the ship and towards you.

He cleared his throat, now catching everyone’s attention. “I hate to do this, but the captain’s ready. It’s time to go, romanoff.” he announced.

Your heart dropped as you’d been dreading this moment.

“Yes, sir. I’ll be just a second.” Natasha said.

He nodded his head and walked back onto the ship.

The young knight turned to you and sighed, “I guess that’s my cue.” she said and you nodded in understanding.

Natasha let go of you to approach her family, giving her parents and a hug as well as your parents. She exchanged words with them that you couldn’t really hear before making her way back over to you.

She delicately cupped your face in her hands and pressed her lips to yours once again. You both poured all of your love and passion for each other into the kiss, knowing it’d be the last one until she got back.

You pulled away and rested your forehead against hers. “See you in three weeks?”

“See you in three weeks.” she promised.

You let Natasha go and watched as she boarded. The ship departed soon after.

The castle suddenly became quieter for you with the young knight gone. You of course had to continue with your usual duties and responsibilities because life goes on, but it wasn’t the same without Natasha around.

What made it bearable was that you still had your parents to go into town with every Tuesday and visit all of your favorite spots like normal, conversing with the workers there that you’d become good friends with over the years.

Yelena kept her word and would hang out with you whenever you had free time to distract you from the thought of Natasha being overseas. Melina and Alexei were great as well and did whatever they could to help.

With all of that combined, everything turned out to be okay just like Natasha had said.

And the young knight made good of her promise to you because three weeks later, your father had knocked on your bedroom door, pulling your attention away from the book in your hands to inform you that Natasha’s ship had just returned.

You jumped out of bed so fast, not even bothering to mark your page as you rushed out of the castle and down to the docks. You probably looked like a madman with the way you were running, a huge smile plastered on your face.

But you didn’t care because you got to the docks right on time to see Natasha walking off the ship. When her eyes locked on you she grinned widely and dropped her bags to meet you halfway as you practically leaped into her arms.

~~~~~~~~

(Time jump a few years later/present day)

You turned off the faucet and shook your hands to rid them of dripping water before drying them completely with the hand towel hung on the wall. A gentle smile sat on your lips, one that hasn’t left your face since the night began.

It was the day that you could only dream of as a little kid.

Literally.

You opened the bathroom door and started to walk out, wanting to get back to the after-party before you missed out on too much of this important night when you felt a gentle grip on your wrist.

Whoever grabbed you had pulled you back into them so your back was against their front, but you didn’t panic too much because you immediately recognized the familiar cologne of your wife whom you just tied the knot with merely a couple hours ago.

She wrapped her arms arms around your torso and pressed a feather light kiss to your neck. “There you are, my love. I lost you there for a moment, I missed you.”

You giggled as her breath tickled your neck. “I was only gone for a few minutes, Nat.”

“A few minutes too long. But now that I found you, I can have a moment with you alone before we go back to everyone.”

You hummed and relaxed back into her, letting out a content sigh as you admired the shining ring that Natasha had slid onto your finger after vowing to you that she would spend the rest of her life by your side.

That this was forever like it was always meant to be.

“I can’t believe we’re actually married.” you whispered out.

Natasha smiled against you. “I know, it feels so surreal. Six year old me would be over the moon right now.”

You both laughed at that. It probably was true.

“You know our moms always called us soulmates.” Natasha said as she reached to take your left hand into hers, staring at the ring and smiling to herself at the memories coming back to her.

“Yeah,” you giggled, “They were right though, weren’t they?”

The redhead sighed happily, “They were.”

You two basked in each other’s presence in silence for a moment as Natasha pressed small kisses to any part of your skin she could reach. You giggled whenever her lips touched a ticklish spot.

“We should probably go back out there now. Before people start thinking we abandoned our own wedding.” you joked.

Natasha chuckled, though continuing her ministrations, “We can spare a few more minutes, right?”

You playfully rolled your eyes, “No, we cannot. Because you’re going to get carried away and then we’re going to actually abandon our own wedding.”

The redhead groaned when you began pulling away from her, but you made it up to her by pressing a kiss to her lips which seemed to satisfy her for now before taking her hand and leading her back to the after-party.

“There you guys are!” Yelena said once she saw the two of you, “We’ve been looking for you. It’s time for your guy’s first dance.”

She dragged you both over to your parents where they were waiting.

You couldn’t help the smile that seemed to take over your face.

Everything was perfect as can be, and now you get to enjoy it all with your soulmate.

~ end ~

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha marvel #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanov #natasha x y/n #natasha x reader #natasha fanfic #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff mcu #natasha alianovna romanova #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fluff

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flemingsfreckles · 8 days

Text

Newlyweds

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Preview: You and Jessie finally get married, when you get home, your original plans get derailed by your sleepy wife

Warnings: suggestive, mentions of sex (fingering), getting walked in on, no detailed smut, non sexual nudity, showering together,

WC: 1.6k

A/N: this ended up soft and fluffy, I thought about taking it the smut route but I didn’t, sorry I know yall love some smut, I also finished writing this just now and I’m just gonna post it, it’ll edit it if I find errors but it’s very possible they’re in there.

Jessie was practically cackling as she ran down the hallway of your home toward your bedroom with you cradled in her arms.

“If you fall you’re going to get us both hurt Jessie.” You tried to protest when she went to pick you up outside the front door.

“It’ll be fine! Plus it’s a tradition thing.”

“I think the tradition is the groom carries the bride through the door, last time I checked we’re both the bride.��

“Shhh just let me do it.” You had, reluctantly let her pick you up, bridal style, walking you through the door of your house. It only took 3 steps for Jessie to in fact trip over the rug that sat at the entrance.

Thankfully neither of you were hurt, she had managed to catch both herself and you before either of you hit the floor.

“Jessie!”

That’s what set her off laughing. And she couldn’t stop, she was hysterically laughing as she kept moving, using your body to push open the bedroom door. By the time she placed you on the bed you were laughing too. You couldn’t help it, your wife’s laugh was contagious.

“I cannot believe you almost fell.” You shake your head looking up at where she stood next to the bed. Going limp she flops down onto the bed next to you. She’s laying on her stomach, looking at you as you lay on your back, turned to the side to look at your wife.

“Hi wifey.” She whispers to you, the biggest toothy grin across her face.

“Hi wife.” You lean in and kiss her gently.

You both lay, just staring at each other, soaking in the fact that just a few hours ago you had officially gotten married.

The two of you had joked for so long that you practically were married, being together since you were 17 and 18, you had stayed together falling in love with each other more and more as the time went on. Now being 25 and 26 you finally had done it, in front of all your friends and family, you were married.

As you stare at her you notice her eyes starting to flutter closed, then she’d open them with a couple hard blinks, before they’d start to droop again. The sight is adorable, Jessie’s sleepy face gently placed on the bed.

“Let’s go to sleep Jess”

“No, we’re supposed to, ya know, consummate the marriage.” She cracks her eyes enough to look at you and wiggles her eyebrows.

“Babe, I think that tradition is more for people who didn’t sleep together before marriage, we’ve been having sex for like 8 years.”

“But still, we’ve never had sex as wives.”

“What do you call the fingering in the reception bathroom then?” You counter.

You weren’t too proud of it, but something about seeing Jessie in her tuxedo declaring how much she loved you in front of everyone you both cared about, turned you on. You couldn’t help yourself but to whisper some filthy words into Jessie’s ear as both of you sat having dinner. The two of you had snuck off to a bathroom during your reception to have a moment to yourselves, one thing turned into another and before you knew it Jessie had you sitting on the sink, her fingers under your dress and inside of you.

Jessie’s face turned red at the memory.

“That doesn’t count as consummation, no one finished.” She argues with you.

“That’s not my fault, you can thank your sister for that.”

Jessie’s little, but thankfully adult, sister had come looking for both of you. The photographer needed you both for photos with your brand new wedding bands. You thought you had locked the door when you walked in, turns out Jessie had already made an attempt to lock it, meaning you unlocked it. She had looked everywhere, before she opened the bathroom door, seeing her older sister between your thighs, your dress hiked up around your waist and Jessie’s hand between your legs.

“Oh, you two are disgusting.” She clasped her hand over her eyes. “Wash your hands and both of you get out here, the photographer needs you!” Jessie had been mortified, being caught by her sister of all people, she would’ve preferred a teammate. You had laughed it off and dragged your red faced wife out of the bathroom.

The party continued on for a few hours after and while you were still very turned on by your wife, the exhaustion of the day started to sink in not exactly leaving either of you in the mood for what you knew would be multiple rounds of sex.

You watched as Jessie’s eyes continued to flutter shut each time they shut they stay closed for longer and longer until you’re pretty convinced she wasn’t going to open them again.

“Hey,” you gently nudge her shoulder and her eyes crack open. “Let’s go shower and get changed.”

“But I’m so comfortable here.”

“Come on babe, we can have our first shower together as wives.” Saying the word wife and it not being a joke anymore made you smile.

“So cozy in the bed.” She mumbled as her eyes closed again.

“Alright, hang on.” You stand up, moving over to the side of the bed closest to her, you scoop your arms under her shoulders and the other under her knees. She doesn’t protest as you lift her and carry her into the bathroom.

You gently place her on the floor and give her a kiss. “Let’s get you undressed.”

“That’s what I’m talking about.” Jessie smirks at you.

“No, you were just falling asleep on the bed.”

She pouts at you, arms crossed. You gently take her wrists, undoing the cufflinks of her dress shirt and then sliding off her tuxedo coat. Your fingers move to the buttons on her vest, undoing those and helping her remove it. Lastly is her dress shirt, she works from the top down as you work to undo the bottom of her shirt. Your hands meet in the middle and she pulls the shirt off and quickly follows it with her sports bra.

“My beautiful wife.” You lean down placing kisses across her exposed skin. While your mouth stays kissing her chest, your fingers move to her belt, undoing it and sliding it out from her pants. She undoes the button on her slacks and lets them fall to the floor. You hands find the elastic of her boxers and you slowly pull them down. Moving your head from her chest you place kisses along both of her thighs as you remove her underwear.

“You’re turn.” She says, you turn away from her to allow her access to the zipper and ties on your dress.

Jessie’s hands find the top tie and begin undoing the knot. “Have I told you enough how beautiful you look?” She says as her fingers move to the next tie. “Absolutely stunning, you took my breath away.” Her hands then move to the zipper, undoing the rest of the dress. She brings her hands up to where the top of the dress sat. She begins pulling it off of your body, similarly to your actions she brings her lips, placing them on every inch of skin on your back she exposes pulling down your dress.

Jessie extends a hand to you to help you step out and over the dress. “Wow.” She takes the time to look you up and down. You had bought a new set of lingerie for the wedding. It was a lacy white set, one you knew would make your wife crazy. “Where did you get this?” Her fingers work into the straps of the bra.

“Oh you know, just something I had lying around.” You joke with her. Her eyes are locked on your chest. “Quit staring, I’ll put it on again tomorrow for you to fully enjoy.” The comment had Jessie biting her lip, likely thinking of what she’d get to do to you after a good night's sleep.

You move your own hands to your bra, unclasping the back while Jessie’s thumbs hook into your matching panties and pull them down your legs. She comes back up to meet your lips with hers.

You both stay for a second, grinning at each other, both overwhelmed with happiness. You pull away to start the shower, while you wait for it to run warm you pull Jessie into your arms, hugging from behind. You turn the two of you toward the mirror above the vanity.

“Look at my wife.” You point in the mirror at Jessie’s figure in front of you.

“Ehh she’s alright but look at my wife!” She teases you back, pointing at you in the mirror.

“I love you, wife.”

“I love you, wife”

Your arms release her, giving her a quick squeeze with your hand on her shoulders. “Let’s hurry up and shower so we can sleep and then tomorrow we can do all the consummating you want.” You give her a wink and she quickly follows you into the shower, the two of you having a moment of peace and relaxation after the day’s festivities. As you looked at her in the shower, you couldn’t help but think how it was just the two of you, and that was all you would ever need. You and her.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #canwnt x reader

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abyssruler · 1 year

Text

like bread and pastries (you make me feel soft)

scaramouche x gn!reader

prince kunikuzushi can be described as mean at best, and a tyrant at worst. it comes as no surprise when years pass after his coming of age and he still hasn’t received any marriage proposals or even had a single lover. not that he would desire any of those small minded plebeians unworthy of his hand, but you, he decides, you might just be alright in his books. or — a prince and his baker.

fluff, soft scara (kinda), prince!scara, baker!reader, royalty au, bc i love the trope where the cruel and intimidating person is soft for one person and one person only

Prince Kunikuzushi’s love life—rather, his lack of one—has always been a topic of contention between the nobles of Inazuma. Some wonder if he will ever truly marry, what with his less-than-affable personality (which was, in high society terms, a sugarcoated way of saying he was an asshole). Others speculate that his mother might try to intervene and set him up with someone of reputable background.

What they don’t know—and if anyone ever found out, he would personally silence them to keep his secret safe—is that he is seeing someone. Just not someone they’d particularly find worthy or even interesting, but Kunikuzushi would beg to differ.

“Didn’t I tell you that you’re not allowed to eat the cookies until they’re at least cool enough?”

No one, not even his own mother or younger sister, would have the audacity to speak that way to him, let alone look him in the eye unflinchingly with a threatening spatula held in the air.

You’re covered in flour, from your hair to your clothes to the smear on your cheek that has his fingers itching to wipe it off. Your back is held straight, chin up and utterly unafraid to meet his stare head on as if he isn’t the heir to the shogunate and will one day rule the very country you reside in, as if his reputation for being all too happy to order someone’s tongue cut off for any insult, imagined or not, doesn’t even register in your head.

And if it’s you, well, then you have a perfectly good reason why.

Kunikuzushi drops the cookie he’d been in the middle of taking a bite out of into the tray, letting his displeasure known by crossing his arms and turning away from your chiding stare with a frown that could almost be called petulant.

“I pay you to make cookies for me, you know,” he grumbles, but you respond by huffing in amusement.

“Your mother pays her retainers, who then pay the right people, who then pay me to bake in the kitchens for the royal family and their guests.”

He raises his brow. “Practically the same thing.”

You pinch his arm for his sass, and any other person would have been met with a backhand across the face and an immediate order to be whipped fifty times in the public city square, would have had their hand cut off for even daring to touch, let alone harm, the Crown Prince of Inazuma, but you—

You make him so disgustingly soft. Like butter left to melt in the sun, and really, that’s what you are: a sun. Dazzling and blinding and so very unattainable.

“The point is, my prince, you can afford to have a little patience every now and then,” you tell him, lowering your spatula and placing it on the table.

“I’m a very patient person.” He smiles, the kind he knows unsettles you because, and he quotes, it gives you the heeby-jeebies to see something so fake and uncharacteristically sweet on his face.

“I doubt that,” you respond, poking the cookie with a finger to check if it’s cooled enough already. With a grin, you pick one up and bring it to his mouth. “Say aah.”

He looks at you blankly. “Not even a minute ago and you were scolding me for trying to eat one.”

“I’m a changed person.” You send him a cheeky smile, gesturing to the cookie still outstretched in front of his awaiting lips. “So?”

Kunikuzushi rolls his eyes. If anyone had dared to do something so childish, something so debasing and humiliating in front of him, coercing him to do something he would have never done in his life even under sword point, he would have had their heads cut off and fed to the monsters that lurk outside the city.

But since it’s you…

Fine.

He opens his mouth, face warm at the embarrassing display, and says, “Aah.”

You laugh in delight, bringing the cookie to his lips. The taste of dough and something that faintly reminds him of vanilla bursts in his tongue. It’s soft and chewy, like bread and melted chocolate. He isn’t one for overly cloying sweets, especially not the ones his mother so favors, but the ones you make are always somehow just right for him.

Leaning close, you eye him with anticipation. “How is it?”

He chews for a few moments, gathering his thoughts before he ultimately decides that he’s been far too lax in reminding you of who he is and his reputation. “It’s passable.”

…Is he really so far gone that that is the best insult he could think of on the spot?

He could name a few adjectives that he’s prone to use on the daily. Disgusting, revolting, terrible, abhorrent, nauseating, repugnant—to name a few. But, somehow, his mouth refused to form the words, so he was left to say passable instead.

“If it’s passable, then I guess it’s not enough for your refined palate,” you feign distress, turning to the tray of cookies and making a move to grab them. “I suppose I’ll have to throw these away…”

For the second time that day, he does something he considers beneath him and rolls his eyes. “Stop the dramatics. The cookie was…” the muscles on his mouth hurt with the effort to say something not unkind, “…good.”

You beam, all crinkled eyes and lovely upturned lips. It makes his heart palpitate, probably because of how adorable abhorrent he finds the sight. “Hehe, I knew you’d like it.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he tells you, lest you suddenly think he actually likes you, never mind the fact that he was the one who hounded your attention and made the first move to kiss you all those months ago.

“Whatever you say,” you sing-song, leaning on the counter beside him and getting flour on his immaculate robes when your arm brushes up against his. “But I was wondering why you came to visit me today. You told me yesterday that you had pressing matters to attend to.”

Ah, right. The reason for his sudden appearance in Tenshukaku’s kitchens. The conversation with his mother yesterday repeats in his head.

“My mother wants me to find someone to marry as soon as possible.” Kunikuzushi looks at you, eyes wide and expectant.

Your eyes suddenly dim, looking down at your feet in an uncharacteristic show of hesitance. “Oh. Then… I wish you and whoever you choose as your spouse the best of wishes.”

A muscle in his brows twitch. He can’t believe you didn’t get the hint. Are you truly going to make him say it?

Something distinctly uncomfortable tugs at his chest when he sees you fiddling with your fingers.

Tch. Fine.

“It’s you,” idiot, he wants to add, but his tongue seems to have a mind of its own. “I came here to tell you that you’re going to marry me.”

Your head snaps up, face a mixture of shock and hesitant hope. But then you grimace, “But you’re the prince, and I’m…”

He scoffs. “So? Once we’re married, any insult directed toward you is an insult to me as well. I’ll have them killed—if you want.” The last part is added only because he saw you go pale at the mention of killing people.

“Right, but…” you trail off, tilting your head to him and narrowing your eyes. There it is, that audacious spark that captured his attention from the beginning. “You’re supposed to ask me to marry you, not order me around.”

His face pinches.

“Well, my prince? Are you gonna ask me or not?” you tease.

The sheer nerve at your audacious request. If you were one of the mindless nobles that scurry about his mother’s court, he would have you whipped. Insolent, impertinent, brazen, and a mischievous smile that has him so utterly—

Whipped.

He clicks his tongue, crossing his arms and feeling his cheeks redden. His eyes meet yours unflinchingly despite the erratic beating of his heart.

“Will you marry me?”

One month and many arguments and severed tongues later, the Crown Prince Kunikuzushi is wed to you.

And if Yae Miko uses that opportunity to write a light novel fanfiction about the prince and his baker, well, she responds to Kunikuzushi’s angry letter with a signed copy of the book’s first edition and a note about how much the people loved it and how his reputation has skyrocketed because of it.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #kabukimono x reader #wanderer x reader #gn reader

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bookshelf-dust · 11 months

Text

all the time

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 7,206

warnings: swearing, brief mentions of alcohol, family drama, best friends to lovers type beat (lemme know if i missed anything, as always)

a/n: this got pretty long, and i’m sorry about that. i put a steve option in my 1k celebration poll, and i haven’t been able to get over it, so that’s what this is. i thought i could try it out. i haven’t really had this much fun with a fic in a long time. i know my steve audience isn’t as big, but i guess there’s a chance someone might like it.

————

The crumbs from your crackers drop into your lap, the crease of your book catching them. You set your spoon back down, flipping the hardback over to ensure no crumb will be left lingering in between the pages.

You’re curled into the end chair at the table, just as always, legs crossed and book nestled against your bare legs. Your parents sit across from each other, talking about whatever, but you aren’t listening.

You dunk a cracker in your soup, holding it there for a moment to let it soak up the broth, before tossing it into your mouth. You continue on this way—alternating between scooping up noodles or chicken and drowning saltines—until you have nothing left but the dregs in your bowl.

You mark the page in your book, tuck it under your thigh. You’re tipping the bowl backwards, drinking the rest of the soup, when your mother says your name loudly enough to tear you from your stupor.

You swallow and wipe your mouth haphazardly with a napkin. “What?”

“Your father and I were just talking about your sister’s wedding.”

You raise your eyebrows, wondering if she’s actually being serious.

“No shit.”

Your father sets his cup down, glaring at you. “Language.”

“Sorry,” you say, though there’s no real meaning in the word.

Your sister has told practically every goddamn person in Hawkins that she’s getting married at the end of the month. Everyone is talking about her wedding. A wedding that you don’t give one singular fuck about.

She’s marrying her high school sweetheart, they’re moving into a sweet new house in the suburbs, blah blah blah. She’s doing the same shit every other peaked-in-high-school woman her age is doing. And you can’t be bothered to care.

Not only that, but you have to be a bridesmaid. You’re not very close with your sister, so her choosing another friend as her maid of honor really didn’t hurt you. Frankly, you would’ve been fine if she’d left you out of the bridal party completely.

None of this is really as spectacular as everyone’s made it out to be.

“Anyhow,” your mother begins, “you know she’s allowing her guests to bring a plus one.” She pauses, and you raise your eyebrows again, not understanding the need for dramatics here.

“Well, she asked if you were going to bring someone, and I told her that you were.”

You push back from the table, entirely too confused. “What?”

“Honey, don’t get so frantic. I didn’t think you would want to be alone, especially considering your attitude towards the entire function.”

You take a deep breath, pressing your fingers into your eyelids.

“I thought you could bring that boyfriend of yours. Actually, that’s what I told her. She’s already put in the name for a place card.”

“Mom, are you out of your mind?”

She gasps, taking a sip of her wine to gather herself. Your father chooses this moment to begin clearing up the table.

“I don’t have a boyfriend!” you exclaim.

Her eyes widen. “What do you mean? I told her you’d bring that boy, Steve. You spend an awful lot of time with him for him to not be your boyfriend.”

You feel like you’re choking on air. Like your dinner is going to come up if she doesn’t cut this out. “That’s because he’s my friend!”

“You’re always with him, sweetie. Much more than I ever was with any of my male friends.” She clearly doesn’t believe that he’s not your boyfriend. Like it’s impossible that he isn’t.

You shove past her and into the kitchen, utterly exasperated. Why are people making decisions for you? Why is your mother suddenly proclaiming to everyone that you’re in a relationship you didn’t even know you were in?

When you turn around from facing the sink, both of your parents are staring at you. “What now? Something else you’ve told the whole damn town about me?”

Your mother reaches out to you, but you brush her off. You’re a little too pissed for any sort of cooing right now.

“I’m sorry I assumed he was your boyfriend, honey. But you have to bring him, or else the family will ask questions and there will be an empty space next to you. Personally, I’d find that embarrassing.”

You push your way out of the kitchen, more than done with this situation. “You’ll be lucky if I even go to the damn wedding. And, personally, I wouldn’t go blabbing about things I’ve just assumed about my own daughter rather than just talking about them with her.”

When you turn down the hall, your father is rubbing his forehead, and your mother is looking at you like you should be grateful for her having assured you have company for the big event.

“This could be good for you!” she shouts, and your only response is the slam of your bedroom door.

In hindsight, of course the slam was childish, but you really can’t believe your mother.

You’ve never been so frustrated with her in your life. And yeah, you’ll go to the wedding, but what gave her the right to do that? This is your life. Not hers.

Normally, you would call Steve about something like this, but shit, you can’t.

Steve. As your boyfriend?

That’s too much for your brain to handle right now. You throw yourself on the bed and call it a night.

————

“So, let me get this straight,” Robin begins, holding up her hands so as to count off your main points. “Your mother just told everyone that you have a boyfriend, that this boyfriend is Steve, of all people, and that he’s your plus one to your bitchy sister’s wedding?”

The countertop is cold when you press your forehead against it. “Yes,” you whine.

You’d gotten up first thing this morning and head to Family Video, needing to spill your guts to the one and only person who would surely match your energy and try to help you handle the situation.

Your arms are laid out in front of you, hands dangling over the edge of the counter and reaching for Robin on the other side. She grabs hold of them and squeezes. “That’s one hell of a pickle you’re in. But! Lucky for you, I’m gonna help you figure it out.”

You squeeze her hands back, only to jerk your head up at an alarmingly fast rate. Robin cringes like you’re going to give yourself whiplash. You’ve just had an absolutely terrifying thought.

“Steve’s not working today, is he?”

Robin tries to think off the top of her head, but there are too many thoughts rambling around in there, so she’s quick to consult the schedule pinned to the wall behind her. She probably could’ve told you the times of each of his shifts if only you hadn’t asked.

“He won’t come in until this afternoon. Three-thirty, to be exact.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “Thank fuck. I’m not ready to see him yet. He’s going to notice something’s wrong and then he’ll want to talk about it and then it’ll just be a big fat shit show.”

Robin props her chin up with her hand, elbow resting against the green countertop. “You know, maybe that’s a good thing. He already knows you so well that he’ll probably make a great boyfriend.”

“Robin, what?”

She’s plotting and you’ve never felt more afraid.

“Well, you can’t just not take him to the wedding after all of this, right? It would be ten times messier now that your mom has told all of Hawkins that Steve Harrington is your boyfriend. And you know he’ll agree to go, being ‘Mr. Nice Guy’ and whatnot. Besides, you’ve gotta admit that there’s chemistry between the two of you.”

You go to speak, but she holds a hand up to stop you.

“So you tell him about your little predicament, and maybe he can just act as your boyfriend for the night?” She smiles nervously, shoulders rising in slight fear of your reaction. “You two are best friends, no one’s bound to be the wiser.”

“Robin, are you suggesting that I just fake-date the man?”

She raises her hands in a don’t-shoot-the-messenger gesture. “What’s the harm in it? It’s just a one time thing. You go, you get it over with, and Steve will be there the whole time. It’ll be totally fine.”

You drag your hands down your face, peeking at her through your fingers. This is insane. This is fucking delusional. But it could work, couldn’t it?

A customer comes in, and you step to the side while Robin helps them at the counter. Chemistry? Maybe Robin’s right. Not that you’d ever tell her that.

Last Valentine’s, Steve showed up at your place after dark, flowers in hand, knowing full well that you hate the holiday. “I just wanted you to feel special,” he’d said. “And I love you and everything.” You’ve been saying that to each other for forever it seems. And you mean it. He’s your best friend. But now you’re wondering if maybe he means it in a different way. Or if that’s just what you want to think.

Steve doesn’t know that you pressed a few of the flowers to keep, or that you’ve saved the stubs from the movies you’ve seen together. You think about how he holds your hand on the way up the theater stairs, keeping you from tripping and spilling popcorn everywhere. How he offers to go out with you when you need to be away from home, not wanting to leave you alone. That he takes your bag from you the second he notices you adjusting it, straps digging into your shoulder.

Your hands start to sweat, and you feel like this could either go just as Robin’s told you, or it could go really fucking badly.

“Hello? Anyone home?” Robin’s voice breaks you out of your stupor. She’s waving her hand in front of your face.

“Listen honey, I can see your brain working from here. I know you’re coming up with every possible way that this could go wrong. Just talk to him! It might go really well. You never know.”

Robin boops you on the nose and starts to walk towards the staff room. It’s her way of signaling that you need to get your shit together.

“Good luck! I love you!”

You grab your keys and make for the door, flipping her off as you go. She only blows a kiss in response.

————

You’d been pacing your room when Steve called and offered to take you to the bookstore. Really he just wanted to spend time with you, and you needed to spill your guts. You spent an hour contemplating calling him, going over to see him, maybe even just cutting yourself off from him as a whole. In fact, cutting yourself off from the world had crossed your mind, but he’d since prevented that.

Now Steve hovers behind you while you wander down an aisle filled with mystery novels. None of them are catching your eye.

There’s a warmth behind you, and you look up to see Steve. He reaches above your head, one hand on your waist, and pulls something down. He flips it around in his hands before holding it out to you. “What about this one?”

Surprisingly enough it does sound vaguely interesting. “You have to read it after I do.”

He grins. “Yes ma'am.”

And we will read it. You know that he will because he’s done it before. He’s sat on your couch and blabbed about books to you, whining about this character, asking you a question about that plotline. Robin’s voice chirps in your head. Chemistry. Shit.

Steve takes the book back from you. He never lets you carry anything.

You walk further into the store, your feet carrying you to the same places they always do. You end up in a quiet corner, and your heart rate picks up. Not telling him is only hurting you more. You take a deep breath.

“Steve, I gotta tell you something.”

He crosses his arms and leans against the end cap. “Shoot.”

“You know how my sister is getting married?”

He snorts. “Yeah, I’d say I’m familiar with the event.”

You’d smile if it weren’t for the fact that you feel like you might puke at any moment. “Well she decided that guests could have a plus one.” Steve hates the way he warms up at that. At the fact that he wants you to take him. He nods, encouraging you to continue.

“Well my mother decided to tell everyone that I’d bring you. As my boyfriend.”

Steve coughs, and your head jerks in his direction. “Your boyfriend?”

You press your hands together. “Yeah. She said she assumed that we were dating because we’re always together, and when my sister asked if I’d be bringing someone, she just told her that it would be you.”

You make eye contact with Steve. His cheeks have gone red. “So naturally, she’s already had your nameplate printed. And now, what I’m saying is that I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend and go to my sister’s wedding with me.” The last part spills out of your mouth faster than you’d intended.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you start to panic. It’s as if you’ve been sent into overdrive, like every sense in your body is on high alert. If this goes wrong, Robin’s ass is grass.

You back into the corner of the aisle, book spines pressing into your back. “I realize I said I need you to do this, but I should have prefaced it by saying that of course you don’t have to, and I don’t expect you to–”

“I’ll do it.”

Steve pushes his hair back from his forehead.

“What?”

“I said I’ll do it. I don’t mind.”

“Steve, are you sure?”

He’s moving into your personal space bubble, hands grasping for your arms where you’ve tucked them behind your back. He pulls them out, hands sliding down your forearms until he’s got your hands in his. His palms are warm, and you can’t help but notice how big his hands are. There’s a ring on his pinky finger too, and it takes you by surprise, considering he’s not usually one for jewelry. You’ll have to ask him about it later, assuming you survive this.

“I’m sure. I’m not just going to let you show up after your mom did all that shit. She’s more trouble than she’s worth, if you ask me. But I promise, I don’t mind. I’ll go and be your boyfriend. I don’t know how good I’ll be, but hey…we’ll see.”

You pull your hand away to smack him on the arm. He winces like you’ve brutally wounded him.

“Don’t you dare say that, Steven. You’d make an excellent fake boyfriend. And a kickass real one. Don’t let me hear that shit again.”

You let go of him and start to walk away.

Steve chuckles. “Or what?”

“Or I’ll beat your ass, Harrington. And you’d definitely lose that one.”

He catches up to you and his hands find your waist again, though he struggles to hold on when you’re continually moving.

“Hey,” he pouts, his bottom lip jutting out at you. “Not fair.”

You look back up at him and reach up to pat his cheek. It’s warmer than you’d expected, and still all rosy. “Sorry, sorry.”

“That’s not very nice of a fake girlfriend.”

You snort. “Ha! I guess my fake girlfriend skills aren’t up to the great Steve Harrington’s standards.”

“You’re being so mean to me today.” He rests his chin on your shoulder while you pick through a sale pile.

“Only yanking your chain, dearest.”

He chuckles, and you can feel his breath against your neck.

You start to wonder if maybe everyone has a point. You do spend the majority of your time with Steve, and you are touchy, but that’s just the kind of person Steve is. You hadn’t realized how much you enjoyed physical touch from another person, even when it’s the most mundane action, until him. Robin is the same way, always holding your hands or leaning on you. They’re spoiling you.

But the more you think about it, the more you realize that you’ve started to crave Steve’s touch when he’s not around. At night when you feel lonely, when you’re staring at the ceiling and letting your thoughts engulf you, you wish he was there to give you a hug. You wish he was there when you’re eating lunch alone and his leg isn’t pressed against yours under the table. You miss the warmth and the weight of him beside you on the couch. It’s like there’s a part of your brain that’s reserved for him, and suddenly you’re worried that this fake dating Steve thing might be the worst decision you’ve ever made.

————

“Is this really necessary?”

“Yes, and I’m going to leave this with you until the masquerade is complete so that both of you morons have a reminder of your agreement.”

Robin sits on Steve’s couch, white board in hand. She’s brought way too many markers with her. She decided it would be best if you and Steve had a list of things that are acceptable for your temporary fake romance. She also insisted she be moderator.

“Masquerade? Is that really what we’re calling this?” Steve looks at you.

“No. It’s not.”

“Both of you! Focus!” Robin uncaps a marker and throws the lid at Steve. He catches it. “Now, what kinds of things are okay to do during this little performance? I’m talking, hugging, handholding, kissing, the lot of it. Now shoot.”

Steve looks at you again. “What do you think? This is your family that we’ll be around.”

Your knee starts to bounce.

The majority of your little charade will be during the reception, and having to stand during the ceremony is saving you much more trouble than you’d realized. You never thought you’d be grateful to be a bridesmaid. But now there’s the added pressure of knowing Steve will be watching you then, that your family will be watching the both of you afterwards.

Steve catches your shaking leg and is quick to put a hand out to steady you. He knows you’re nervous.

“See? That’s good. Believable.” Robin is staring at the two of you, or more specifically, at where Steve’s hand rests on your knee.

Steve pulls his hand back. “Okay, so we can hold hands?” you say, questioning yourself already. “You can touch me, like that or like you usually do.”

“I can do that. Hands, arms, back. That alright?”

You start to warm up. “Yeah, that works. What about you? I don’t want to be too handsy or anything but it might be weird if I don’t touch you at all.”

Steve sits back in his chair while Robin scribbles away, her bulletpoints little stars. There are two sides, one for each of you.

“All of that is fine with me too. I really don’t mind, and I think you know I like physical affection. But you know when you like, hang on my arm sometimes? I really like that.”

Robin smiles brilliantly. “That’s good! Makes you look super lovey-dovey.” She jots it down under Steve’s name.

You try not to let it show, but Steve’s words are running rampant in your head. I really like that. He does? You hadn’t realized it before.

“What else?” Robin asks. “Kissing? How do we feel about that?”

“Uh—I hadn’t really thought about it,” you tell her. And you hadn’t. The thought of Steve kissing you at all, other than the top of your head like he’s done before, makes you feel like your heart has just dropped out of your ass. “But I suppose it’d be weird if we didn’t at all, you know?”

You’re looking at Steve, hoping he’ll feel the same way, searching for some sort of consolation.

“No, yeah, that’s a good point.” He’s quiet for a moment before continuing, “What about your cheeks and forehead and stuff? Maybe the face is fair game? And you can do the same for me.”

You wipe your palms across your thighs. Kissing Steve. Steve kissing you. You’re losing your shit.

“Yeah, that’s totally fine. That works.” You’re amazed that you’ve even managed to get the words out.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, you know?” Steve’s expression is soft. You know he’s being serious with you.

“I know. And I don’t want to make you feel that way either. I want this to be a perfectly comfortable evening.”

“And I’m sure it will be!” Robin claps her hands together, setting her board down against the couch cushions beside her.

She stands abruptly. “Basically you’re just behaving like you normally do, but with a little more hands-on action, you know?”

Steve quirks a brow, taking a furtive glance at you. “What do you mean, like we normally do?”

Robin moves towards her best friend and crouches, taking his hands in hers. “Uh…what are you doing?”

“Listen, little Stevie, you’re a touchy-feely kind of guy, and you’re always all over the lovely lady to our left. You can’t deny that.”

“I mean—yeah.”

Robin nods her head. Steve struggles to keep eye contact with her, knowing you’re watching the interaction.

“And you’ve rubbed off on her! She wasn’t really like this before you, Harrington.”

This time he jerks his head towards you. “Really?”

He’s thinking about your hugs, how you wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze. About how you always take his hand when he offers it, or how you'll toss a leg over his on the couch. Any other sort of behavior would feel strange.

You feel yourself go all warm. Feel your chest squeeze. You’re forgetting how to breathe. She’s completely right. Steve has brought out a side of you that you swore you didn’t have. The side that longs for affection. Maybe more.

You nod your head at him.

“Yeah,” Robin says, “Most I’d get out of her was some hand holding before you came around.”

She releases Steve from her grasp and rises once again.

“But my point is, you two are going to make a fantastic fake couple. And maybe even an excellent real one.”

Steve face palms. “Robin.”

“Sorry, sorry! Make sure to take pictures for me, alright? I’ll be so sad to miss this happening in person.”

Steve stands, grabbing Robin’s bag for her. “Yep. Alright. See you later, Rob.”

He looks at you with what you’re quite positive is fear in his eyes. He leads her to the door, and you can’t help but chuckle, even if you’re nervous as shit, as he reassures her that there will be pictures, and that you’ll tell her all about it.

————

“Just hang it up on the doorframe, and then you can hold stuff up to it.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

You sit cross legged in the center of Steve’s bed, watching him rummage through his closet. He’s going to knock your dress on the floor if he doesn’t quit his frenzy.

You’d told him it wasn’t necessary that he coordinate his outfit with yours, but he insisted, so you brought your dress over for him to see. Steve has a feeling that when he sees you in it he’s going to lose his shit, not that he can tell you that.

“You know, I never thought these would be useful. But I guess your asshole dad dragging you to business events pays off sometimes.”

Steve lifts a bunch of hangers from the rack and pulls them out of his closet, setting them on the bed beside you.

“Fancy,” you say, smirking.

He rubs his hand over his chin, the other braced against his hip. “Yeah.”

You can tell he’s a little frazzled at this. The reminder of dressing himself up to be paraded around by his father—a father who doesn’t spare Steve a second when not in the public eye.

You hate that you’ve made him dig up all these memories.

“They all fit okay?” you question.

He nods, that one insistent lock of hair slipping free. He pushes it back before you have the chance to.

You slide off the side of the bed and stand. You gesture for him to sit and that gets a smile out of him.

After he’s settled, you lift each suit up one by one, seeing which matches the blue of your dress best. You’re only glad that your sister picked a nice shade: a dark, rich midnight blue. The kind you’d be able to spot from far off in a department store and need to take a look.

You get to a sort of soft gray one, and Steve stops you. You hook it up on the doorframe beside your dress.

“I think that looks nice, yeah?”

You walk backwards until your spine meets Steve’s knees. You brace yourself, hands on his calves. His chin meets the top of your head because of how high up the bed is.

“I like it a lot, Harrington.”

He snorts, and you can feel the puff of air against your scalp. He’s warm, his presence all around you. His cologne, maybe his shampoo if you let yourself fall in between his legs. But you don’t. You stand.

“Looks pretty solid to me,” you tell him, though your grin falters just slightly enough for him to catch it.

He puts a gentle hand on your cheek, making sure you keep your eyes locked on his.

“Hey. It’s gonna be great, okay? You’re going to kill it in that dress. Probably kill me, actually,” he laughs. “We’ll handle it together, alright?”

“Alright, Steven.” You’re trying not to over-analyze that comment. This is not the time to get sweaty.

He stands up, hand sliding down from your cheek to cover your collarbones. You wrap your arms around his back on instinct, and you swear you see him blush as he moves to encircle you in his own.

“Does being your fake boyfriend mean your incessant picking has only gotten worse?”

You rest your forehead against his chest. You can hear the steady thump of his heartbeat. You think about how nice it might be to do this all the time. What it might be like if he weren’t your fake boyfriend, but your real one.

“Mhm,” you mumble. “I plan on continuing it, too.”

Steve’s hands run up and down your back.

“I look forward to it,” he whispers. There’s a part of you that knows he means it.

————

Steve hasn’t stopped looking at you since you met him at the door to the wedding venue.

You’d run down, more than happy to have company that wasn’t your sister's bitchy bridal party.

He stands with you now, waiting until he’s allowed to take his seat, and you can feel his eyes burning into you.

Not that you’re any better than he is.

His suit fits him just right, and every time he pushes his hair around, you watch his shoulders move under his jacket. It’s driving you insane. And he’s wearing that fucking ring again. Except this time, there’s also one on the middle finger of his opposite hand.

The sun is hitting him just right, turning his eyes this amber color. It’s mesmerizing. You notice then that his tie is the same blue as your dress.

“Steve?”

“Hm?”

“Did you have that? Just lying around?”

He follows your gaze to his chest. No, he absolutely didn’t. He ran out and picked one up in a shade as close as he could get it to yours. Wearing something that felt like a piece of you had his mind abuzz. Abuzz with you.

It’s the same way he feels about these rings Robin bought him. She said you were into them, always talking about Steve’s hands or something. He’s started to like them, but really it’s for you. Most things are.

“Yeah. I found it in a drawer.”

Robin would slap him if she were here. He doesn’t know why he lies, but he does. And then you’re blushing and he’s got to sit down. He squeezes your hand one last time, an encouraging gesture, but one that has so much more buried beneath it.

The ceremony thankfully goes quickly for you, and you’re grateful, hating having to stand up there like you give a shit, like your sister is some saint.

For Steve, it’s the slowest wedding he’s ever been to. You look so fucking gorgeous and he can’t keep it together. He barely even pays attention to the wedding, too busy looking at you. The way your indifference shows on your face, even if you know you’ll hear about it later. The way your hands wrap around the little bouquet you’ve been given. The way the setting sun sets your skin alight, and he thinks that you might truly be the death of him.

When the ceremony has concluded, when Steve is looking for you in the reception hall, he realizes he has to tell you so. You deserve to know how gorgeous you are. He’s beating himself up for having said you looked ‘great,’ and that was all.

You spot him first, and rush to him like you had before, anxious to be near him.

“My mother is looking for me,” you tell him.

“You want to get some air?” His hand finds the small of your back, already leading you away from the crowd and just outside the doors.

“You’re such a good fake boyfriend.”

You suck in a breath of cool air, shake your hands out.

Steve smirks, hands moving up to massage at your shoulders before he even has a chance to give the action a second thought. “Just knew you’d like to get away is all.”

Knew.

The word hits you and you feel like you’ve been slapped. Goddammit, Robin. She’s been in your head all day, and you’ve done nothing but pick up on the little things Steve does for you, the things he seems to know about you, that make him so much more than just a best friend.

You’re fucked.

“Thank you, Steve. For that, and for coming to this. It means a lot to me.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’d do it again.”

He’s looking at you with such fondness, and you have a feeling he wants to say more. You grab hold of one of his wrists, locking your eyes with his in hopes that it will communicate the message. Go ahead.

He exhales. This sort of thing used to be so easy for him, but it’s never been that way with you. He knows it’s because you aren’t just some chick he wants to take out. You’re everything. And he’s fumbling for words.

“I, uh, I wanted to tell you that…” You squeeze his wrist, and he continues, albeit with a shaky voice. “I wanted to tell you that you look beautiful.”

A smile creeps up and onto your face before you can stop it.

“I mean, you always look beautiful, b-but tonight you’re just—stunning. Like, totally breathtaking. Don’t let anyone hear this, but I’d even say you look better than the bride.”

You let out a laugh then, the kind that comes straight from your belly, rich and sickly sweet. It makes Steve laugh, too. He can’t believe you. You’re unbelievable.

“Sorry, Steve, I just–fuck that was so funny.” You straighten up, putting your serious face back on. “Thank you for saying that. I really appreciate it.”

“I’m serious, you know. You’re gorgeous.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, lips warm and plush against your skin.

You go all warm and fuzzy inside. “Thank you, Stevie.”

He smacks another kiss to your cheek, just because he can.

“You look pretty too, you know.”

Steve blushes at your comment, and it’s at this very moment that your mother’s voice rings out, “Sweetie! Come in here, people want to see you!”

Fear flashes across your face, any trace of the sweet flirtiness there seconds before having vanished.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Steve says, watching you gesture towards your mother, telling her you’re on your way. “Let’s do this, yeah?”

You make eye contact with him, and he grabs hold of your hand, weaving his fingers between yours. “Yeah.”

————

“So, how’d the two of you meet?”

You’re surrounded by a crowd of women, some are your family–your mother and sister–some women you’re not even sure you know.

“School.” Steve saves you from having to speak first. “We went to high school together, but we met through a mutual friend.”

Your mother quirks a brow. “Robin,” you tell her.

“Oh! What a lovely young lady.”

Steve snorts and you slap him on the back. Not that anyone could’ve seen it with how close he’s got you pressed to his side. “Yep,” Steve coughs, “She’s great.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, hoping it’ll give him a moment to suppress his smile. Your sister steps away from her friends, catching the action.

“So, Steve, does she treat you okay? I know my sister can be a bit frantic sometimes.” You watch your mother down the rest of her wine, and you know she’s hoping nothing breaks out between the two of you like it has plenty of times before.

Steve’s arm wraps more firmly around you, his hand coming to rest on your hip. Everyone has their eyes locked on you, waiting, hoping that Steve will spill some sort of secret that they can spread throughout Hawkins like wildfire. Nothing beats good gossip around here.

He squeezes your hip, and for a split second you think the gesture might be possessive. Protective, even.

“She does. Your sister is considerate and thoughtful, and she’s the best woman I know. I’ve never felt more comfortable than I do with her. And if she’s ever frantic, it only helps her deal with me when I’m the same way.”

You feel like you could pass out. Because you know he meant every damn word of that. You know he isn’t lying.

Your sister looks between the two of you. “Well, I suppose that’s good to hear.” Her smile is nothing but insincere when she walks off to greet another wedding guest.

One of your aunts swoops in, and Steve feels you clutch his side a little harder. He has a feeling you’re about to be ridiculed.

“Such a lovely day, isn’t it? You two ever think about tying the knot?”

Steve pinks and your hand slips under his suit jacket, clutching at the fabric of his shirt instead. Is this really the time?

“No,” you pipe up. “I haven’t really given it much thought.”

The woman frowns at you. “Well, isn’t that silly? You better get around to it sooner than later, honey. Take after your big sister. You won’t be young forever.”

You go to speak, but Steve’s already begun. “I’m sorry, but she doesn’t have to get married on anyone else’s terms. Hell, she doesn’t have to get married at all, and I can say that in utmost confidence. Maybe back off, okay?”

Your aunt looks absolutely scandalized, as if she cannot bear to accept what just happened to her.

Steve starts to lead you away from the group. “Come on, baby.”

Baby.

Steve called you ‘baby.’

You don’t have time to analyze that though with the way he’s escorting you back outside. He parks you on a bench and starts to pace in front of you.

“I can see why you didn’t want to do this now. Jesus, are they always like that? I thought my dad’s colleagues were dicks, but my god.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Wait—can you call judgmental ladies dicks?”

You snort and bury your face in your hands. “Yes, Steve, I think so.” It comes out muffled, but he hears it all the same.

When you look up, Steve is staring at you, and he’s much closer than he had been. He starts to say something, but both your mother and sister have shown up, looking for you.

“Sweetie! What are you doing out here?” Your mother looks frazzled, and maybe a little tipsy. You knew your sister would be a bitch on her wedding day, but apparently your mother hadn’t yet realized.

“Escaping the mob.”

“Your aunt isn’t entirely pleased with your behavior, I’ve been told.”

You stand up then. “Honestly, mom, I don’t really give a shit. I came to this wedding, like you told me to. I brought, Steve, like you told me to. And I just don’t care anymore. I’m sick of your bullshit.”

She looks aghast, way more than your aunt had.

You look at your sister, who’s clearly hoping to see you fuck up.

“Congratulations on fucking yourself over. You’ll have a severely depressing marriage.”

“C’mon, Steve.”

He takes your hand, and he can’t help but giggle as he follows you out.

————

“Sweetheart? You comin’?”

You’ve stopped halfway up Steve’s stairs, a far off look in your eyes. He’d brought you back to his place to stay the night, and now that you’re here, it’s like every thought you’ve had about him is fit to burst. This cannot just be a tonight situation. You can’t let this end here.

You drop your dress where you’d been holding it up to prevent yourself from tripping.

“Maybe Robin’s right. About the chemistry.”

Steve’s hands go to his hips. He’s got no idea what you’re on about, but the way you’re looking at him is enough to have his heart rate kicking up a notch. “Chemistry?”

“Yeah. She pointed it out. And she said we’d make a fantastic couple, remember?”

He blushes. He hopes this is going where he thinks it is. Tonight has made him realize how much more you are to him than just a friend. He wants you all the time. “Yeah, I remember.”

Your heart is pounding and you feel like you can’t really breathe, but if you don’t say this now, you’re not sure you ever will.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?” He’s never been so stressed in his life. He’s actually starting to sweat.

You exhale and push the words out. “I don’t want you to be my fake boyfriend. I want you to be my real one.”

He coughs, chokes really, and you move up the stairs towards him to make sure he’s okay and not actually sick over the matter.

“Are you sure?” he asks, surprising himself with the ability to speak considering how raw his throat feels.

“Wouldn’t have said so if I felt otherwise, Harrington.”

There she is, he thinks. You really want him. Just like he does you. He can’t believe it.

“Again with the picking. You’re so mean to me.”

You smirk, your hands finding his sides again. You seem to have some attachment to them, and Steve wonders if it’s because you know there are scars underneath. If you’re telling him more than what you can bear to say. Giving him a glimpse of all you have to offer him, all the love you might hope to share.

“I’ll show you mean, you little shit.”

You press your lips against his before you can second guess yourself, before you let that little voice win.

Steve hums in surprise, but it’s clear he’s not upset by the gesture with the way he responds to your touch. His hands find your neck, thumbs stroking over your cheeks.

He’s kissing you back, and fuck if he’s not trying to tell you everything he’s been feeling.

When you pull away for air, Steve’s too greedy to let you go. He pecks your lips once, twice more, and when he really can’t breathe, he peppers your face instead. Now that you’ve given him the chance, he seriously can’t get enough of you.

“Damn.”

You laugh, and push that strand of hair back where it goes, this time getting to it before he can.

You take Steve’s wrist in your hand. It’s late. You hadn’t realized how worn out you were, but you are.

“Can we go to sleep?” you ask, searching his brown eyes. His lashes are unfairly long, but you’ll have to berate him about it later.

“Do I get another one of those before bed?” He’s already hauling you up the stairs, wanting you settled.

“If you’re good.”

————

“So when did it happen?” Robin’s voice is almost accusatory.

“What?”

You’re standing close enough to Steve to ensure that you can hear Robin on the other side.

“When did this love confession take place?”

“That’s not what it was—”

“Just tell me when, dingus!”

“Last night, after we got home. She told me she didn’t want it to be fake anymore.”

“Shit!”

Steve rolls his eyes. You fuss with the belt loops on his jeans, trying to figure out what she’s been up to. “What did you do?” he asks.

“I owe Dustin twenty.”

“You bet on us?” Your voice is loud enough that she hears it, and you know she’s cringing even if you can’t see it.

“Maybe? Yes. I bet that you’d give up the act later than that, that you two would be cowards about it. Figured you’d both wallow in self pity for a while before you just came out and said how you feel.”

Steve looks at you, and mouths: Are you hearing this?

Robin keeps going. “Dustin said you’d come to your senses quicker than that. He bet on the wedding day specifically. Goddamnit!”

You take the phone from Steve, and his forehead meets your shoulder. You can feel the way he shakes with laughter.

“Thanks for having so much faith in us, Rob.”

She chuckles. “What? You’re both extremely good at lying to yourselves. I expected this to be much more dramatic.”

“Mhm,” you start, a plan forming in your mind. Steve can almost feel it. “Hey, Robin?”

“Yes?”

“Just for that, I’m calling in sick for Steve today. That shift is all yours.”

“No. Nononono—”

You hang up the phone. That means there won’t be the buffer that is Steve Harrington to prevent Robin having to interact with Keith. She’ll be stuck with him all evening.

“That was just cruel,” Steve laughs.

You cross your arms. “Oh, so you wanna go in then?”

He smiles at you and holds his arms out. You move into the circle of them. His hands find your waist and squeeze. “No, I didn’t say that. I haven’t had a day off in months.”

“So quit whining.”

“See? I’ve only been your real boyfriend for like, a matter of hours, and you’re still being so mean to me.”

You lean forward and press a sweet kiss to his lips. It seems to appease him.

“Was that mean?”

“Not at all.”

You grin and kiss the corner of his mouth.

“Mean and a tease. Wow.”

You let out a breath of a laugh. “Only for you, Stevie.”

He takes your face in his hands, fingers pushing gently into your skin.

“Damn right.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

tagging: @clovermunson

#savannah’s fics #steve harringtion #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #robin buckley #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington comfort

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juleswrites223 · 2 months

Text

Desi Girl

Pairing: Carlos Sainz jr x indian!reader

Context: Attending a desi wedding with bae

ps: No specific faceclaim, i got every image from pinterest. Desi girls need some love too and i love carlos so i thought he would be the perfect fit for this.

yourusername

yourusername shaadi (wedding) time!!

ps; not my shaadi, my sister's

tagged: carlossainz55

landonorris where's my invite

yourusername remember the time we invited you for diwali and you almost burned yourself bc YOU INSISTED TO LIGHT FIRECRACKERS WITH MY BROTHER landonorris no regrets yourusername you almost died dummy landonorris like i said no regrets carlossainz55 .... ynloversz i love how carlos is so used to their banter that he stays out of it lest he too face the wrath of y/n yncarlos tired older sister and annoying younger brother dynamic ynmylove the fact that she already has a younger brother who annoys tf outta her and now she gotta deal with lando and her lil bro mywifeyn my girl cant catch a break😭

charlesleclerc i wanted to come too...

yourusername you can come when we get married carlossainz55 what she said^^^

yummyyn they’re so in love😩😩😩

carlitoyn mother is mothering; daddy is daddying

ynwifey shes so so mommy😩

randohater yeah must be fun mooching off your millionaire bf

ynloversz oh someone hold me back im boutta get violent

mywifeyn its always these ignorant americans smh 🤦

ynmyqueen her family is hella rich and practically run almost everything in India so before hating on someone who is way richer and prettier than you, do your research cuz this is embarrassing for you.

f1wags

f1wags Carlos Sainz and his girlfriend Y/n Y/l/n in Jaipur, Rajasthan at her cousin sister's wedding. Both looking quite good in traditional indian outfit.

carlito55 OMG CARLOS IN A KURTA. THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT CARLOS IN A KURTA

carlyn MY JAW DROPPED. THEY LOOK SO GORGGGGG

Ynfanacc mother slaying as usual

yourusername

youusername with meri jaan (my life)🫶

tagged: carlossainz55

ynloversz “meri jaan”🥹

carlitoyn tell me why I’m crying

carlyn they love each other so much I’m crying

carlossainz55 tum meri jaan ho ❤️ (you are my life)

ynwifey Carlos replied in Hindi Oml I’m boutta cry

landonorris did yn help you type this or did you use google translate??😑

yourusername I may have helped a bit

carlossainz55 tu gadha hai (you’re an idiot) landonorris

yourusername now that’s all him, I’m so proud that he’s learning hindi 🥹 (btw my brother taught him that)

yourbrother roasteddd

Ynnnn55 they visited a temple together omlll

ynpyaar (pyaar means love) I literally met them today and they are even cuter and down to earth in real life.

yncarlos I love that even though both of them are really rich they’re still so down to earth which honestly makes them even more attractive

carlitoyn it’s not even just yn, but her entire family is also like that, honestly love her family, they’re such kind souls, it’s no surprise yn is too

carlossainz55

carlossainz55 with mi amor ❤️(my love)

yourusername I love you ❤️

carlossainz55 I love you more baby landonorris i see you have no shame yourusername what is our crime?? landonorris having fun without me yourusername 😐 carlossainz55 😐

yncarlos THE IT COUPLE!!!!

carlitoyn MISS MAAM YOUR OUTFIT!!!! THE HENNA ON YOUR FEET!!! THE FIRST PIC SO CUTE IM GONNA PASS OUT

liked by yourusername and carlossainz55

ynwifey THEM DANCING IS SO ADORABLE

carlossainz55 posted a story

caption: everyone is tired 🫨

yourusername

caption: 🥳🥳

yourusername

caption: Congratulations didi (older sister) and jiju (brother in law)

carlossainz55

carlossainz55 fun couple of days with mi amor

tagged: yourusername

yourusername carlos drank so much chai, he has become a certified indian now🫡

carlossainz55 mazaa aaya (had fun) yourusername Im glad 😘

landonorris better get an invite to y'all's wedding

yourusername of course lando carlossainz55 could be any day now so you better check your mail ynloversz WHAT

carlitoyn always eating with the looks queen 😍

f1wags you guys are a beautiful couple truly ❤️

comments have been limited on this post...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

author's note: Y'all would not believe how much i enjoyed this. Ive been super inactive because ive been super busy with stuff plus with not wanting to write but hopefully im back and will be writing more stuff, a lot F1 related bc im into F1 rn.

#f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz jr #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 smau #f1 social media au #formula one imagine #lando norris #charles leclerc

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theminecraftbee · 8 months

Text

Jimmy notices Scott sitting near the edge of the Ace Race launch. They’re both on the practice server; it’s a good place to hang out. Gets away from the kinds of lives they live elsewhere, even if Jimmy figures the one he’s got right now is good enough. Scott’s here a lot, Jimmy’s found; it’s probably some combination of whatever the weird messenger thing he has going on with Noxite is and the number of other lives he’s lived. Jimmy bets it’s just quieter here than, like, he doesn’t know, he’s heard something about pirates?

Anyway, he’s always down to say hi to Scott. Also, Scott looks—strange. Diminished feels rude. Not preening like a peacock? No weird ethereal glow? It can’t be that the romance has worn off, it never really did, not all the way, Jimmy’s always seen him as sort of made of lace and marble and beautiful things from the beginning and even now that they’re like, friends friends, it’s just—

Jimmy plants himself in the grass. He can’t find a poppy, but he can find a dandelion. Close enough?

“Flower for your thoughts?” he says cheerfully.

Scott looks up. He laughs. “You can’t be doing that, Jimmy. We’ll get double-married. I already have too many husbands, you can’t be on there twice.”

“I think I can marry my flower husband as many times as I want,” Jimmy says.

“We barely even do a romance anymore.”

“Well, excuse you for not being a romantic.”

“Me? I’m not the romantic? Me?” Scott says incredulously.

“Well I don’t know how it would be me,” Jimmy says imperiously. He pauses, huffs, and sits down next to Scott. “I mean, we can do romance if you want. Hadn’t done that the last few lives because, you know, work better as friends right now, but I can totally wow you. I can, uh. Uh. Make… chocolate? No, I can’t do that, actually, don’t hold me to that—”

Jimmy pauses.

“Scott,” he says.

“No, keep going,” Scott says weakly.

“Have I done something wrong?” Jimmy asks.

“No, no, it’s just—sort of being a messenger god, I get a feel for things, and—it’s gonna happen again soon, Jimmy.”

“Oh, okay,” Jimmy says. They both know what they’re talking about. “I’m absolutely gonna win this time, just so you know.” He says it with all the false bravado of a person who’s mostly just hoping he doesn’t die first again. This time, this time, this time. He’ll do it by his own merits, though; he’s not sure what he would have done if Joel had actually gone through with the halting plan to die for him that he’d told Jimmy about last time. Probably crowed on happily about it, honestly, but with needles in his stomach the whole time.

Scott hasn’t responded yet.

“You don’t have to worry. You’re way too good at this. Constant finalist, now that you don’t have me weighing you down,” Jimmy tries.

“I shouldn’t talk about this with you,” Scott says.

“Rude,” Jimmy says. “We’re husbands at least twice over.”

“Yeah, but do you ever regret it? Don’t you—don’t you regret it?” Scott bursts out. “Don’t you ever wake up and—and you weren’t good enough to protect them and you’re not good enough to be loyal to and frankly you aren’t good enough to follow the rules either and, and so you’re just constantly winning. And you aren’t trying and you just think, if you’d just—if you’d just fucking slowed down, figured out how to protect—this is stupid. I’m proud of Martyn. Got him to win, at least. I can’t regret him winning. I wouldn’t have wanted anything else. I never have. Forget I said anything.”

Jimmy stares.

“I don’t regret it,” he says, and he’s surprised to realize he’s telling the truth.

“Not even for all the mocking?” Scott says.

“I mean. Wouldn’t have teamed with Grian and Joel if…”

“Oh,” Scott says. He stares out over the practice server. Jimmy cannot guess what’s going on in his head. No matter how many lives they’re friends, husbands, lovers both star-crossed and casual, enemies, and friends again in, Jimmy has to admit, Scott’s kind of a closed book. It’s one of the character flaws he has to make up for being perfect at everything else.

It’s part of what makes him Scott.

“I don’t regret it,” Jimmy says, almost more urgently.

“Oh,” Scott says again. “I do.”

Jimmy’s not sure what to say to that.

He’s never been good enough at winning much of anything to understand that kind of regret, is the thing. Blessing, curse, whatever else, he just…

“Sorry. I’ll be better tomorrow. Not normally the kind of person for this stuff,” Scott says. “It’s not that I’m not confident, it’s just…”

That, though. That, Jimmy can understand.

He scoots closer to Scott.

“Let’s race. I’ll totally beat you so badly. I was watching CPK do skips. And, I don’t know about you, but…”

“Yeah, you’ll hit those in your dreams,” Scott says. Neither of them move to stand up, though. They remain sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, watching other participants jump off the launch. It’s nice here. Quiet. A place apart from all the lives they live. Jimmy wonders if that’s why Scott’s here so much. Jimmy might have to show up too; that’s what increasingly old friends are for, he figures.

#limited life smp #<- tagged as such for being the most recent #jimmy solidarity #scott smajor #a bee fic #idk man I just wanted to write scott being a little insecure I can’t sleep and have been having fh feelings lately #for whatever else I think Jimmy doesn’t ever regret TRYING even given that it never works out #be it relationships or bad plans or the life series #scott though—it works out for him and he’ll always wonder.#flower husbands

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just-aake · 1 month

Text

Boundless Devotion - Part XIV

Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: MedievalAU. Natasha is the eldest princess of the Romanov Kingdom. As the time of her coronation approaches, she is suddenly forced to make a decision – either find herself a partner or her parents will choose one for her.

Warnings: angst, violence, blood, hurt/comfort, major injury

Words: 6283

In the courtyard of the Bishop manor, an arrow flies through the damp air, its trajectory slightly skewed as it lands off-center from the desired bullseye.

“You’re not accounting for the rain, Kate Bishop,” a voice remarks from nearby, the tone carrying a hint of amusement.

Drenched and disheartened, Kate hangs her head with a groan of frustration before trudging back towards the shelter of the small pavilion at the edge of the courtyard.

“I’m trying,” she mutters with a small pout. “It’s so much simpler without the weather working against me.”

Yelena, who was observing from under the shelter, pushes the plate of assorted pastries towards Kate.

“It takes practice. Now sit. Have a snack. It will make you feel better,” she suggests in her usual matter-of-fact tone.

Setting down her equipment nearby, Kate dries her hair with a previously prepared towel before joining Yelena at the table. She bites her lips lightly in contemplation, and then, leaning in with a conspiratorial tone, she begins to speak.

“You know, it’s been a while already. Maybe we should go over there and check on them.”

Yelena waves her hand in disagreement.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” she comments while reaching for a pastry. “If anything, they’re probably together right now, being all affectionate and in love with each other.”

She takes a bite and gestures pointedly, continuing.

“I mean, all that pent up tension between them has to spill over eventually.”

As she finishes off the treat, an upset expression crosses her face when she recalls the earlier encounter at Y/n's manor, and she slumps her cheek on her hand with a sigh.

"Plus, I don't think that snooty lord would let us in anyway,” she mutters dejectedly.

Hearing this, Kate frowns, crossing her arms and leaning back in her seat in thought.

“It’s so strange that you were turned away. I didn’t think he was so strict with Y/n,” she remarks before shrugging. “Then again, maybe that's why she always cancels our plans whenever he's around.”

"It’s weird, right?” Yelena exclaims in question at the situation.

She waves another pastry towards Kate pointedly, continuing.

“I say the sooner Natasha marries Y/n and gets her away from that man, the better. He gives me a bad feeling," she finishes, shuddering.

Kate nods in agreement before plucking the pastry from the younger princess’ outstretched hand, a playful glint in her eye as she enjoys her stolen treat.

Meanwhile, Yelena gasps dramatically, placing a hand on her chest and feigning shock at her action.

Rolling her eyes, Kate tosses another pastry at Yelena, who catches it easily, before moving her attention to the courtyard.

Her canine runs excitedly through the rain, but just as he starts to jump in the muddy puddles, Kate decides to call out to him, trying to limit the mess he’ll eventually bring into the manor.

“Lucky, come here!”

Responding to his name, Lucky bounds towards her, his tail wagging eagerly, but at the last second, he veers toward Yelena who waves a treat in his direction.

Giving him the treat, Yelena affectionately pets him and playfully squishes his face, while speaking to him with mock seriousness.

"Isn’t that right, Lucky? Lord Dreykov is a big jerk, isn't he?"

Lucky barks happily, as if agreeing, but then, with a sudden shift of focus, his head turns away from her, and he dashes off towards Kate's manor.

Yelena’s eyes follow him in confusion before noticing Natasha striding purposefully in their direction, her expression a blend of determination and barely concealed frustration.

“Oh, she does not look happy,” Kate observes.

“Nope, definitely not,” Yelena agrees, adding. “Looks more murderous than in love.”

As she draws near, undeterred by Lucky's playful antics of circling her, Kate greets her cautiously.

“Hey, Natasha, how did it go?”

“We have a problem,” Natasha answers urgently, her hand pulling Yelena up from her seat as she speaks.

“Wha—hey!” Yelena protests in surprise, taken aback by the sudden movement.

Sensing the seriousness of the situation, Kate quickly rises to her feet, concern etched on her face as she reaches for her bow.

“Did something happen with Y/n?” she asks.

Before Natasha can respond, one of the Bishop’s house guards approaches the pavilion, interrupting their conversation.

“Shall I arrange for more pastries for the princesses?” the guard asks, prompting a confused look from Kate.

“What? No,” she replies. “We’re actually about to leave soon. Have someone prepare our horses for us at the front gates.”

Beside Natasha, Lucky's playful demeanor disappears, replaced by a low growl as he fixes an intense gaze and threatening stance at the guard.

Suspicion creeps into Natasha's expression as she eyes the guard warily before moving towards the pavilion's exit with Yelena in tow.

The guard matches her step, blocking their path with a slight bow of his head, though his expression remains emotionless.

“I'm afraid the weather is still unfavorable for any travels, Your Highnesses.”

At his declaration, Yelena lets out an amused chuckle, pulling herself from Natasha’s grip and crossing her arms.

“It’s just rain. We’ll be fine—!”

Her reassurance is cut short in surprise as Natasha swiftly knocks out the guard.

“What was that for?” Yelena asks in astonishment, bending down curiously to inspect the unconscious guard.

“I’ll explain on the way,” Natasha says, pulling her sister back to her feet. “Right now, we need to move before they find us.”

“Um…did you mean them?” Kate asks, pointing in the distance.

Across the courtyard, Lord Rumlow leads a band of armed men towards them, a self-assured smirk on his face.

Among the group are mercenaries bearing the symbol of the Hydra Den, along with the escaped prisoners and several prison guards who wear the same emotionless expression as the unconscious one on the ground.

Yelena hums in realization, studying the scene with narrowed eyes before leaning in closer to her sister to ask with a sigh, “I’m guessing this is part of the problem?”

“Yep,” Natasha replies bluntly, her jaws tightening as she assesses the situation.

Rumlow and his men swiftly surround them, effectively blocking any potential escape routes.

Even with the three of them, a full-on assault would be a challenging battle, not to mention it would consume a lot of time. Time that would be better spent on going to help you than dealing with this traitorous lord.

As if sensing their predicament, Rumlow raises his head arrogantly, and his smirk widens.

“You’re outnumbered, Romanov,” he taunts. “Surrender to me now, and I’ll consider killing you all swiftly.”

Kate scoffs in disbelief at his audacity and steps forward, hands on her hips.

“You’re the one who’s trespassing, Rumlow. If anything, you and your little friends here will be apprehended by my guards soon enough.”

“That won’t be happening,” a voice cuts in from the manor’s door.

Lady Eleanor Bishop, accompanied by more guards from her household also wearing emotionless expressions, carefully observes the scene before walking to Rumlow's side with a grave look.

Kate's eyes flit confusedly between her mother and Rumlow, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips.

“Mom, what...what are you doing?” she questions, her voice tinged with apprehension.

Above them, thunder rumbles ominously, echoing the emotional turmoil forming in the tense atmosphere.

Stepping cautiously, Yelena joins Kate’s side, her hand hesitantly landing on her shoulder in comfort.

“I don’t think she’s here to help, Kate.”

Kate shrugs off Yelena's touch, her gaze fixed on her mom in disbelief.

"No, that’s ridiculous. You’re not…we’re not traitors," she insists, her eyes pleading. "Right, mom?"

“Kate,” her mother begins with a heavy sigh, “You need to come with me. It’s too dangerous to be involved with those two anymore.”

Unable to believe what she’s hearing, Kate furrows her brows in anger and confusion.

“How can you say that?” she exclaims in outrage. “Our family has been loyal to the Romanovs for generations, and now you want to betray them…for this guy.”

Her voice lowers into a small whisper as she looks at her mom with a betrayed expression.

“How could you?”

Rather than shame, a look of anger and anguish forms on her mother’s face.

“Because Kate…despite all we’ve done, in the end, we are the ones who lose more. Your father died protecting the royal family,” she reminds her, her voice laced with pain. “And now you want to become a knight too.”

Her gaze then hardens with a glare as she turns to look at Yelena and Natasha.

“I had hoped you would’ve given up by now, but the princesses keep encouraging you,” she accuses, resentment flashing in her eyes.

“They didn’t force me to become a knight,” Kate defends, clenching a hand to her chest. “That was my choice!”

With a firm shake of her head, her mother’s expression becomes serious and resolute as she makes her decision clear.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she states firmly, leaving no room for argument in her tone. “You'll realize eventually that this is for your own good. I won't allow my family to risk their lives any longer. Especially not for those two.”

Kate recoils at her mother’s words, her eyes widening in disbelief and hurt.

Unsure of what to do next, she instinctively turns to the other person in her life whom she trusts.

Yelena meets her gaze with a small, pained smile, then rubs her neck nervously — a familiar gesture that Kate recognizes as a sign of her discomfort.

“I told you she never liked me,” Yelena says lightly in a half-joking manner before adopting a more serious tone and giving her a reassuring nod, “It's alright, Kate. Whatever decision you make, I'll support you. This doesn’t have to be your fight.”

Kate’s frown deepens at Yelena’s last words, and her hand instinctively reaches out towards the younger princess.

“Enough!” Eleanor declares, commanding, “Come here, Kate.”

Ignoring her mother's demand, Kate fixes her gaze on Yelena for a moment longer before turning back to look at her mother.

With a deep breath, she takes a defiant step closer to Yelena, shaking her head.

“No,” Kate asserts firmly. “These are my friends.”

Determined and resolute in her decision, she tightens her grip on her bow, staring unwaveringly at her mother.

“I chose to become a knight to protect them. And that's what I’m going to do.”

Her mother stands frozen, stunned at her declaration, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly in a mixture of anger and concern.

The tense silence is suddenly broken by a slow mocking clap as Rumlow steps forward.

“Well, it sounds like she’s made her choice,” he declares, pushing Lady Eleanor back and gesturing to the Bishop guards to restrain her. They follow his silent command mindlessly, taking her arms.

“What are you doing? This is not part of our deal!” Eleanor exclaims in alarm as she struggles in the grips of her own guards.

Rumlow raises a brow at her before declaring, “You gave me your guards to be tested and controlled for my bidding, and I agreed that I would spare you and your daughter.”

Gesturing back to the three of them, he continues, “Now, if she wants to die with them, then let her. It’s not like anyone ever expected her to amount to anyth—!”

Rumlow abruptly stops and ducks, dodging an incoming plate thrown at him.

It shatters on the ground behind him, and he quickly straightens from his cowering position, pointing in outrage at the culprit.

“You insolent little…!”

Yelena steps forward with another plate in her hand, a subtle calm anger in her expression as she confronts him.

“What? You didn’t learn your lesson when I beat you during the tournament,” she taunts. “Finish that sentence, and I’ll remind you how hard I can hit,” she threatens, her hand preparing to throw the other plate.

Rumlow reacts swiftly, pulling one of his men in front of him, using their body like a shield.

Before Yelena can throw the plate, Natasha’s arm appears in front of her in a stopping gesture.

With a determined step forward, Natasha addresses him, intending to finish this as quickly as possible.

“You want the throne, Rumlow?” she challenges, her voice steady and commanding. “Then let’s settle this once and for all, just you and me.”

As expected, at her direct challenge to him, Rumlow’s eyes subtly dart around to look at his men, sensing the pressure of their expectant expressions.

With a forced clearing of his throat and an arrogant smirk, he pushes aside his human shield, standing tall before drawing his sword with an exaggerated flourish.

“Very well, Your Highness,” he answers, punctuating his words with a mocking bow before pointing his sword at her.

The steady patter of the rain on the ground echoes in the silence of the tense atmosphere filled with anticipation as an open space is created for the duel, and everyone around the two waits with bated breath for the fight to begin.

With a loud growl, Rumlow charges first, lunging with an onslaught of violent swings at Natasha.

The clash of steel fills the air as Natasha gracefully blocks and dodges every one of his attacks while studying his movements for weaknesses.

Soon, frustration and anger begin to appear on Rumlow’s face when none of his strikes land as intended.

On one particularly powerful swing, Natasha blocks it, but instead of recoiling, Rumlow keeps the pressure, pushing forward against her blade.

“You’re so weak!” he spits out with contempt. “What does Y/n even see in you?!”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed at his words, already knowing that he was just trying to provoke her, but still, her teeth clenched with silent fury at the audacity of him to even speak your name.

He intensifies the pressure, pushing her sword closer to her chest with each angry word.

“It’s all your fault! Always in the way, keeping her from me!” he sneers. “If it weren’t for you, she would’ve already belonged to me!”

Suddenly withdrawing his pressure, Rumlow pulls out a hidden dagger and swipes at Natasha from close range. Reacting swiftly, she twists out of the way to a safer distance, regaining her balance.

Despite her quick reaction, Natasha still feels a slight sting on her arm, and glancing down, she sees the small cut where his blade grazed her.

“You never were an honorable fighter, Rumlow,” she remarks pointedly before giving him a determined glare. “And you’re definitely no leader.”

Taking the initiative, Natasha lunges forward with calculated and precise attacks, forcing Rumlow to take a defensive position.

Frustration grows in his expression as he struggles to fend off her advance.

Seeing his wavering confidence and panic, Natasha continues her relentless attacks and raises her voice louder for the others to hear, intending to put some doubts in their minds about following someone like him.

“You never care about anyone but yourself. Do they know that you’ll just dispose of them once you’re finished using them, just like how you did with Lady Eleanor?”

“Shut up!” Rumlow grits out angrily, countering with a wide arching swing that Natasha easily ducks under, side-stepping behind him to deliver a hard kick to his side.

He stumbles a couple of steps from the impact but quickly recovers, regaining his balance.

In the corner of her eyes, Natasha can see the hesitation in some of his men’s expressions as they begin to whisper among themselves.

She returns her focus to the fight, determined to finish this quickly so that she can get to you.

Natasha smoothly parries the next strike that Rumlow swings her way, her grip tightening as she remembers what he said earlier about you.

“And Y/n,” her voice softens at your name, before giving him a harsh glare and punctuating each of her next words with increasingly powerful swings.

“She’s many things—amazing, wonderful things—but she does not belong to you!

With a final, thunderous blow, Natasha sends Rumlow crashing to the ground, his sword clattering from his grasp as he falls to his knees before her.

“And she is worth more than anything you ever deserve,” she declares, her voice ringing out with unwavering conviction as she stands over him.

With a burning glare, Rumlow sneers at her angrily, his hands clenching the wet ground at his clear loss.

“Give up and yield, Rumlow. You’re not going to win this,” Natasha says, offering him one last chance to surrender.

“Go to hell, Romanov,” he spits venomously at her in refusal.

Recognizing that he won’t accept her offer, Natasha prepares to deliver the finishing blow when a sudden movement catches her attention, prompting her to pivot and block the incoming attack from one of the controlled prison guards who had come to Rumlow's aid.

She deflects their swing and pushes them away before backing to a safe distance.

An arrow streaks past her, piercing another guard who attempts to pursue her, knocking them to the ground.

“Of course, he would cheat,” Yelena remarks as she and Kate join Natasha’s side, weapons drawn and ready to keep the others at bay.

Some of Rumlow’s men move to help him up from the ground, but he angrily shakes them off, waving his hands wildly in frustration.

“Get off of me!” he barks, his face flushed with rage as he grabs someone nearby by their collar, shaking them violently. “Well?! What are you all staring at?”

He shoves them forward, shouting, “Kill them!”

Several of the men exchange hesitant glances before slowly advancing toward the three of them, weapons raised for battle.

“So, what’s the plan now?” Kate asks, moving closer to stand back to back with the two princesses.

“We fight,” Natasha responds, tightening her grip on her sword.

“That’s a terrible plan,” Yelena says with a sigh.

“Do you have a better one?” Natasha counters.

Before Yelena can respond with a sarcastic comment, a strong wave of energy, tinged with red, pushes the incoming assailants back, knocking most of them off balance and causing them to topple against each other.

Though the unknown force wasn’t directed at them, its widespread effect was still powerful enough to make Natasha’s feet slide against the ground, pushing them all back slightly.

Regaining her footing, Natasha looks towards the source, and to her surprise, she sees Wanda standing at the manor’s door, breathing heavily as she leans against the frame for support.

Her hand is still outstretched towards Rumlow’s men, the tips of her fingers swirling with remnants of the red energy, matching the glow in her eyes.

“You!” Rumlow exclaims, stumbling upright, his eyes crazed with vengeance as he points in realization at Wanda. “You’re that disrespectful little servant!”

A sinister grin forms on his face as he points his sword at her.

“You’re going to pay for how you treated me, and this time, Y/n is not here to protect you now.”

At his words, Wanda rolls her eyes and scoffs in disbelief, her expression shifting into concentrated fury and annoyance as she straightens.

She directs her hands at him, and Rumlow’s advance towards her freezes in place as red energy surrounds him.

“You insufferable idiot,” Wanda says with an angry glare before raising her hands. Rumlow’s body follows her movement, rising from the ground.

A panicked and struggling expression appears on his face as he stares at her in shock.

Wanda gives him a pointed look, ensuring that he understands her next words, “She’s the only reason why I didn’t do this to you before.”

With a flick of her wrist, she sends him flying across the courtyard, smashing into the wooden targets. The frames collapse around him as he remains unconscious and unmoving under the pile of debris.

A tense silence envelops the courtyard before slowly, fearful murmurs begin to rise from some of the recovering men at what they had just witnessed.

“W-witch! She’s a witch!” one of them cries out, his voice trembling with fear.

Those who were not knocked unconscious from the initial blast join in, their fearful shouts filling the air as they scramble and push at each other to run away.

Only when the remaining enemies have retreated does Wanda finally collapse to her knees, her breath coming out tiredly as the red glow in her eyes fades and the red mist around her hands disappears.

Footsteps rush to her side, and she feels a hand on her shoulder.

“That was amazing!” Kate’s awed voice praises before noticing Wanda's exhausted expression. Her voice lowers with concern as she bends down closer and asks, “Wait, are you okay?”

Wanda raises her hand in reassurance, though her breathing is still tired and unsteady.

“I’m fine, just…not used to doing so much in such a short time…I just need a minute, and I’ll be okay.”

“Hey, take your time. Breathe,” Natasha directs, kneeling beside her and patting her back gently in comfort.

Wanda shakes her head quickly in refusal.

“No, I can’t. Pietro’s hurt…he needs help.”

“I’ll go get someone,” Kate says, standing up urgently to go retrieve the physician in the manor.

“Take Lucky with you, and don’t trust anyone that he doesn’t,” Natasha instructs her. “We don’t know who else could be under Rumlow's control.”

Kate nods grimly in understanding, whistling to call Lucky to follow her as she rushes into the manor.

Yelena steps up closer to them, her brows furrowing as she comes to a realization.

“Wait, if you’re here, and Pietro’s hurt. Then where’s Y/n?” she asks, knowing how much you care for the twins.

Wanda looks down, hanging her head before replying, her voice filled with regret.

“Dreykov has her.”

Natasha’s eyes widen, feeling her blood run cold at the information. She stands quickly in alarm.

“We need to go,” she says urgently.

Wanda nods in agreement and attempts to stand too, but she stumbles on her feet.

Yelena catches her, providing support to keep her upright, but it’s obvious that Wanda’s energy still has not returned, unfit for further travel at the moment.

Yelena meets Natasha’s conflicted eyes and gives her a reassuring nod.

“Go,” she tells her, “We’ll follow as soon as we can.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Riding through the pouring rain, Natasha’s mind fills with worry for you. The unnerving silence and emptiness of your manor’s grounds do nothing to soothe her racing thoughts.

If Dreykov had hurt you again, she was determined to make him pay, regardless of the consequences.

Rushing through your manor’s entrance, Natasha heads straight towards your wing. However, just as she’s about to run up the stairs to your room, your voice calls out from behind.

“Natasha!”

She stops and turns around, seeing you step out from the shadows toward her.

Without hesitation, Natasha moves quickly in front of you, her hand cradling your face as she examines you.

Your expression appears normal and calm, showing no signs of pain or panic, and it doesn't look like you are injured.

Still, Natasha asks worriedly, “Are you okay?”

“Of course. Everything’s fine,” you reassure her, taking her hands in yours and holding them between your bodies.

Something was wrong, Natasha realizes.

Despite your reassurance, an uneasy feeling washed over her the moment you touched her.

She stares down intently at your clasped hands, trying to figure out this unsettling feeling within her heart.

You tighten your grasp on her hands to get her attention, prompting her to return her gaze to yours.

Concern appears on your face as you observe her, while your thumb moves in a soothing caress along the back of her hand.

“You’re freezing, Natasha. Let’s go warm you up.”

You attempt to pull her in the direction of the stairs, but Natasha stands firm and unmoving, causing you to turn back around and tilt your head at her in question.

Natasha’s eyes observe your face carefully before glancing down again at your hand in hers.

Realizing that she is not going to follow, you move back to her.

“Come on, Natasha," you call, your voice lowering as you step even closer, almost pressing against her.

Natasha's eyes follow your actions suspiciously as your hands slide up her front to rest on her shoulders.

"We need to get you out of these wet clothes soon, or else you'll catch a cold. I can draw you a nice warm bath, and then maybe after…,” you continue, leaning in to whisper next to her ear, “…we can spend the remainder of the night together.”

Your suggestion hangs heavy in the air between the two of you for a moment before Natasha lets out a shaky breath.

Shaking her head, she pushes you away gently, holding your shoulders at arm's length as she meets your eyes with a sad expression.

“Wanda said that Pietro was hurt,” she reminds you.

“Don’t worry about him,” you reply, your tone filled with indifference.

The smile that remains on your face and your words confirm what she now realizes is wrong.

Natasha shuts her eyes briefly, her heart heavy at the painful realization. Hanging her head, she takes a deep breath to gather her resolve to confront you.

Your hands gently cradle her cheeks, coaxing her eyes back to meet your gaze, and you give her your usual soft smile.

“Hey,” you whisper. “Just be here with me.”

Your touch is delicate as you brush back strands of her wet hair from her face, a familiar gesture that she is used to from you.

Truthfully, Natasha wants nothing more than to fulfill that request of yours, but when she looks into your eyes, she can’t seem to find any of your warmth in them.

Taking a steady breath, Natasha grabs the back of your hand, halting its movement. She then presses a soft kiss to your palm before giving you a sad look.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

You chuckle, giving her a curious look.

“What are you apologizing for?”

“That you have to go through this pain again,” Natasha replies with regret.

Your expression remains unchanged, a reassuring yet impassive smile gracing your lips.

Natasha sighs sadly, releasing your hand and letting it fall to your side.

“I know this isn’t you, Y/n,” she reveals.

Your smile falters at her words, and your eyes search her face, seeking something before coming to a realization.

Twisting your lips into a disappointed pout, your fingers raise to toy with her collar.

“You could’ve just played along and had a good time with me, Natasha,” you say teasingly before resting your hand above her heart with a raised brow. “You know, before you have to die.”

Natasha presses her lips into a thin line, deepening her frown at your words.

“Is that what he told you to do?” she asks, anger rising at Dreykov. “Seduce me and then kill me after?”

You shrug indifferently, as if unconcerned about the implications of what you were about to be forced to do against your will.

“Well, it was either you or Rumlow, without the killing for him, of course,” you explain casually.

Natasha clenches her fist, seething at the thought of what would’ve happened had she not been the one to come for you first. She’s going to make Dreykov pay for controlling you like this.

“Is that all?” she asks calmly, swallowing her anger so it’s not directed at you.

“No,” you shake your head, giving her a pitying smile.

The cold, uncaring expression looks foreign on your face as you stare at her.

“You see, before I kill you, I was going to tell you the truth.”

You wrap your arms around the back of her neck and pull her closer. Instinctively, Natasha’s hand falls on your waist at the action.

However, the tender embrace brings no warmth or comfort to soothe your cutting words that follow.

“I never believed in you, Natasha,” you begin, your tone icy and ruthless. “You were never going to be a good queen, and it was delusional of you to ever think you could erase all the pain that your family caused.”

Natasha stays silent, letting you speak, as she keeps your gaze with a sad, understanding expression.

Your eyes narrow slightly at not getting the reaction that you expected. With a determined and cold look, you continue, “The truth is…”

You bring your lips closer to whisper the next part in her ear.

“…I've always hated you, Natasha.”

“No, you don’t.”

Your head snaps back in surprise at her immediate response, looking at her face in confusion before a huff of disbelief escapes you.

“There you go again," you say, rolling your eyes. "Thinking you know everything about me.”

Natasha can’t help but chuckle at the statement. She’s been wanting to know everything about you from the moment she met you.

Meeting your eyes with unwavering trust and certainty, Natasha responds confidently.

“You don't want to hurt me.”

There’s an unamused expression on your face now as you glare at her.

“And what makes you so sure?” you ask her.

“Because…” Natasha begins, reaching up to hold your face delicately in her hand. Her thumb moves gently across your cheek to brush away the stray tear that falls from your eye.

“…that's what you told me,” she finishes with a soft smile.

Your expression shifts abruptly, a whirlwind of emotions crossing your face in a split second. First shock, then a brief conflict, then a hard glare.

With a forceful shove, you push Natasha away, catching her off guard. She stumbles backward at your action, landing against the stairs.

Before she can recover, you move swiftly, straddling her and pinning her down as your hand descends towards her, a glint of steel catching the light as you swing the dagger.

Reacting with instinctive speed, Natasha catches your hand, halting its descent, just as the tip of the blade presses lightly at the space above her heart.

Under different circumstances, she would have complimented your skill in knocking her off guard to deliver a finishing blow.

However, from this position, the moonlight of the now clear night sky shines through the large glass windows, casting a soft glow over your features, and Natasha can't help but be captivated by the sight instead, momentarily forgetting her perilous situation.

She knows she should flip your positions and disarm you at some point, but she finds herself unable to break your gaze.

That's when she catches a glimpse of your usual warmth flashing in your eyes, where unshed tears threaten to fall.

Natasha always believed that you are the strongest person she knows, and this time is no different.

Slowly, her grip on your hands loosens, and as she expected, the blade remains in place, suspended just above her heart.

Instead of escaping, Natasha's hand moves to cup your cheek, her touch gentle and reverent.

At that moment, only one thought fills her mind as she gazes up at you, and with a soft exhale, Natasha finally says the words that she's been wanting to tell you.

“I love you, Y/n.”

At her breathless confession, your brows knit together in confusion as a series of conflicting emotions cross your face.

For a moment, there's only silence, broken only by the faint trembling of the dagger in your hand.

Then, with a final, decisive gesture, it slips from your grasp, clattering to the ground.

Immediately, you collapse against Natasha, wrapping your arms around her in a tight hug. A mixture of relief and disbelief fills your voice as your hand lightly hits her shoulder in reprimand.

“You’re unbelievable,” you murmur exasperatedly into the curve of her neck. “That’s what you say when I hold a knife to you?”

Her response is a soft chuckle, tinged with relief and amusement. She returns your embrace, holding you tightly, her next words muffled against your shoulder.

"It's the only thing that came to mind."

You huff at her reply, choosing to not comment further as your arms instinctively pull her closer.

In the safety of her embrace, you try to shake off the lingering sensation of feeling trapped within your mind, recalling the hurtful words you uttered to her.

Before you can gather your thoughts to apologize, a disdainful groan interrupts the fragile peace, drawing both of your attention upwards.

At the top of the staircase, Dreykov sneers down at the two of you.

"Pathetic," he spits out, shaking his head in disgust.

With a motion of his hand, he signals his guards, who materialize from the shadows and advance towards you both.

Reacting swiftly, Natasha pulls herself upright, positioning herself protectively in front of you.

As his guards launch coordinated attacks, Natasha moves with graceful precision, evading their strikes effortlessly.

With a powerful kick, she dispatches one assailant before engaging the other in a one-on-one confrontation.

Confident in her ability to handle them, you turn your attention back to Dreykov, only to see him attempting to flee.

However, he suddenly stops in his tracks, his path blocked by the unexpected appearance of Bucky.

Realizing it was just the old captain standing in his way, Dreykov sneers as he tries to push past him dismissively.

“Don’t just stand there. Go kill her—!”

His command is cut off abruptly as Bucky's hand closes around his throat before forcing him to the edge of the staircase.

Dreykov gasps for breath, a look of surprise crossing his face as he struggles against Bucky's tightening grip.

With one hand clawing at Bucky's hold, his other reaches into his pocket, pulling out an intricate container.

Black powder falls from one of the ends, creating a pile on the floor, as Dreykov’s finger fumbles for the latch at the top.

Spotting the danger and recognizing the substance, you call out a warning to Bucky.

"Watch out!"

Just as your words echo through the tense air, Dreykov flicks open the latch on the container, igniting a spark. With a swift motion, he hurls it to the ground, triggering an explosion of blinding light and billowing smoke.

Amidst the chaos, the clamor of bodies tumbling down the stairs reverberates through the haze, but the thick smoke obscures your vision, disorienting you as you struggle to make sense of the situation.

Coughing and gasping for air amidst the choking fumes, you stagger blindly in search of Natasha.

Your foot collides with something solid, and upon closer inspection, you realize it's the unconscious body of one of the guards, with another lying nearby.

A wave of relief washes over you at the realization that Natasha had won.

However, your relief is short-lived as the sound of steel scraping against the ground sends a shiver down your spine.

"Useless failures," Dreykov's voice echoes through the smoke, his position hidden in the swirling haze.

Frantically searching your surroundings, you strain to pinpoint his location, but the dense smoke obscures your senses.

"Y/n!" Natasha's urgent voice breaks through, sounding closer, and you immediately move towards her voice before finally spotting her silhouette in the distance.

As you go to approach her, another figure emerges swiftly from the shadows behind her, the glint of steel flashing through the smoke.

Without hesitation, you rush forward, pushing Natasha out of the way.

In the next instant, searing pain flares in your abdomen as the dagger plunges into you instead.

Dreykov's eyes widen in surprise at your unexpected presence before twisting in anger.

Ignoring the agony coursing through your body, you meet his gaze with a steely glare of defiance.

"I told you,” you utter through gritted teeth. “I'll never let you hurt her."

Summoning all your remaining strength, you deliver a powerful punch to Dreykov’s face, sending him crashing to the ground with a satisfying thud.

Gradually, the smoke begins to disperse, revealing Natasha on the ground nearby, her wide-eyed gaze locks onto you before drifting down to the blade still embedded in you, comprehension dawning on her features of what you had just done.

With each labored breath, you feel your strength waning from the injury.

Natasha's panicked voice pierces through the ringing in your ear, calling out your name in desperation.

Her hands catch you as your legs finally give way, her warmth enveloping you even as a coldness creeps into your bones.

Struggling to stay conscious, you gaze up at her, your vision blurring at the edges. Her lips move, but the words are now lost to you in the haze of pain.

Thankfully, however, you can still feel Natasha's gentle touch cradling your cheek, mirroring the tender gesture from earlier.

You regain a little energy as you remember that moment of her confession.

That’s right, you realize. Natasha has fulfilled her part of the promise to discuss your feelings, and now, here you are, leaving her without a response.

Determined to convey your feelings, you muster every ounce of willpower to utter her name, but a metallic taste floods your mouth, and you realize with grim understanding that you may not have much time left.

You must have succeeded in calling her though since her eyes immediately move from your wound to lock onto yours with fear.

Unfortunately, that's when black spots start to cloud your vision of her, and you find yourself losing the strength to speak any further. Despite your efforts, you feel yourself slipping away, the edges of consciousness fading.

As you slowly drift into darkness, the rapid rhythm of Natasha's heartbeat echoes against you, a comforting reminder that she's still alive and safe.

However, there is a pang of regret lingering in your heart that you weren’t able to speak the remainder of your words to her. You really wished you had a chance to express your feelings before you go.

To let her know how much you loved her.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: Thank you for reading and for staying so long with this story! There is one more part left and that will be the final one for this series.

Series Masterlist : Boundless Devotion

Taglist: @lightwhoranoutoflight, @taliiiaasteria, @romanoffprentiss, @canvascoloredin, @silentwolfsstuff, @blacklightsposts, @arcturusseer, @presser24, @dvrkhcld, @jujuu23, @screechcat, @vivs46, @cd-4848, @youneversawmehereooooooo, @pancakefan7529, @confusedspaceotter, @natbelovasblog, @izzy-b09, @iamheartless, @mrsrushman, @fxckmiup, @natty-taffy, @2silverchain, @traveler-at-heart, @autorasexy, @natsxwife, @mviswidow, @slut4johansson, @automaticdinosaurtaco, @jono723, @mousetheorist, @tofu9162, @natsbiggestfan1, @iheartjohansson, @nothanksbye07, @midastouch013

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httpdollie · 7 months

Text

— DEAD TO ME

GOJO SATORU X GN! READER X GUEST

content warning: angst, infidelity, hurt with comfort, distressed gojo men :(, model! reader, ceo! gojo, i didn’t proof read lol

word count: 4k+

part 1.

They were gone. Actually gone. The white haired man’s vision went blurry as he started to cry in the pouring rain. He stood there as you got into the cab, slamming the door and watching it speed off.

He patted down his pockets, looking for his phone before making his sulking walk back to this apartment building. He pulled out his phone and immediately started texting and calling you. He tried and tried, each time he was immediately to voicemail till he could no longer. Leaving him shocked with his mouth wide open when he realized you blocked him. Satoru felt the swiftly leave his lungs, starting to panic more as the elevator took him up to his floor.

He didn’t mean for this to happen. It was only supposed to happen once. It was 6 months ago, you were in Milan for fashion week, he promised It was a fling. Akemi had been his assistant for half a year already, and 2 weeks into her job you had told him you think she might’ve developed a little crush on him. Yeah sure he laughed it off and blushed a little when you told him but after you got a call for work and had to leave, he did think about it a little…

Your personalities were polar opposites. She was younger than you by a couple years, more family than career oriented. She was short, had long brown hair, fair skin with a beauty mark near her eyebrow. She would wear only what he thinks you’d describe as “basic bitch clothes with potential,” which was popularly known as the clean girl aesthetic. Meanwhile you were more mature and alluring compared to her soft and seemingly sweet nature. Unlike her, your style was earthy, flamboyant and unique. Fashion designers themselves have told you how inspired they are from you after shows you’ve walked in. Anytime you’d visit him at work, his own employees would stand around and gawk at you. Sometimes he’d wish you’d give up your job so he can just take care of you.

He didn’t know why he kissed Akemi for the first time when you left. He doesn’t know the reason why he kept sneaking off, lying, tricking you to sleep around with her. At first it was an accident, then it was just a habit. He never thought you’d know, he told himself all the time it was going to end soon, he was going to marry you because unlike her; you were it for him.

He walked through the door to his apartment, eyes swollen. He looked around the room, seeing Akemi, smiling wide as she wore the ring his fiancé, now ex fiancé, threw at him. His eyes wide as he practically stomped his way towards her, pulling the finger off her finger, throwing it across the room.

“Doesn’t it look pretty?”

“Can you take that off… I spent a lot of money on that.” He stood in front of her, voice strained from balling his eyes out, he slipped the ring off her finger and into his pocket. She pouted out her lip at him as he gave her a faint but fake smile.

“Well, they’re gone now, so I can finally have you to myself.” She smirked looking up at him with doe eyes, pulling him closer by the waistband of his sweatpants before getting down on her knees. He put his hand against her shoulder, taking a deep breath while looking down at her. “Just get out please.” He said calmly with a tight lipped expression.

“What?” Her round eyes go wide, brimming with tears.

“I said out! Leave!” He points to the door, watching her quickly get up and run to his room, slamming the door. Silence took up the room, soon she came out huffing and puffing with tears streaming down her face. Guilt once again settled at the bottom of his stomach.

“Fuck you!” She yelled at him. “I thought you loved me!” She cried out as she reached for the door, looking back at him for a response. Gojo stared at her, mouth open to say something before snapping shut. With a blank expression, he told her to close the door on her way out. She huffed before slamming the door shut. The blue-eyed man facepalmed, pulling his phone out of his pocket to call his best friend to unload the his big time fuck up.

You called your mother in the cab, telling her you’d be staying the night with your manager, Shoko. When in reality you were making your way to the nearest bar. You push the tinted glass door, revealing your wet figure to the dim lit room. Jazz music is softly playing in the background as your shoes squeak against the clean floors. The bar was empty, you prayed to yourself that this place wasn’t about to close. You called out, no noise to be heard before the silence was interrupted with the sound of dishes clashing together. You sit on the bar stool, taking your jacket off and placing it on the empty stool next to you. You look at the empty bar, huffing as you rested your face in your hands trying to hold back your tears. Hearing someone walk towards you, standing in front of you, behind the counter of the bar stood a tall man.

“You okay? Have a rough day at work?” The deep voice questioned, looking down at you. You peered up at the blonde man and gave him a weak smile, sniffing a little bit before trying to make yourself more presentable.

“Definitely not at work but you can say it was pretty rough.” You lightly laugh at yourself, trying to hold more tears back.

“Well if that’s the case do you want something strong or something sweet?” he spoke softly like he was concerned.

“Maybe a bit of both but only one drink, can’t be seen in public wasted.” You replied quietly.

“Came to the right bar then, I’m Nanami, I own the place.” He introduced himself. The blonde turned around, grabbing a tall glass, liquor and syrups off the shelf.

“I’m Y/n”

“Oh, I know.”

“You do?” You questioned, eyebrows raised.

“Gojo’s fiancé? He doesn’t shut up about you when he comes here and drinks all my alcohol with his employees.” He replied, while pouring your drink into your glass

“Well, he’s officially my ex fiancé as of today.” You corrected, he turned around giving you a tight lipped smile.

“I’m sorry about that.” He placed the pink drink in front of you.

“I’m not.” You smiled, this time with confidence before looking at the drink. “A cosmopolitan? Love your thinking.” You commented, taking a sip of the drink.

“Of course, cocktails are a personal favourite.” A content smile formed on his face at the compliment. “You can always do better than a man like him, not very respectable in my opinion.”

“Are you supposed to talk about your customers that way?” You said as you laughed, making him join as well.

“Only the ones I don’t like.” He chuckled

“Hope I stay on your good side then.”

Days had gone by without a word from Gojo after his initial call to Geto. Now he stood in front of the man’s apartment, typing in the pin to unlock the door. Geto walked through the usually tidy apartment— now in its fallen stark. He looked at the piled up dishes and crushed beer cans on the floor, mentally preparing himself for the state Satoru would be in. He was crying hysterically when Geto saw him. Gojo wasn’t on to cry much, usually just laughing off his emotions, like it was nothing. Right now, he was a mess.

“I fucked up,” Satoru said in between sobs. Geto made his way to Gojo, pulling him up off the bed by his arm only for him to flop back down.

“Shit isn’t going to get better with you sulking and drinking. Get up.”

“I deserve to die.” He wailed on. “How could I cheat on them?” He muttered to himself. Shoving his already puffy face back into his pillow while he continued crying.

“Quit with the pity party would ya’?” Jerking him up by his arms again, this time with more force. “Sitting at home, crying and sulking isn’t okay? You have to own your shit Satoru, you have a company you need to take care of, I can only do so much redirecting projects and rescheduling clients while you’re gone.” He groaned before adding, “Also Akemi is gone, you should be glad you weren’t there for that mess.”

Gojo rubbed his face; taking a deep breath in, trying to shake the groggy feeling away. “I just miss them. I miss Y/n.” Satoru wept. Refusing to look at his best friend, shameful.

Geto looked at his hunched over friend. Admittedly he wasn’t fond of what his friend did to you. He was the one who introduced the two of you, he had been your friend longer than he could remember, he knew you since he was 4. Because of that, he felt guilty. Guilty, because he’s comforting him and what made him feel more guilty; is that he actually felt bad for him.

Geto instinctively put his hand on his friend's shoulder, patting him in a weird manly attempt of reassurance that he wasn’t used to giving. Telling him about how things will get better with time.

“Fuck me.”

It has been a year and a half since you last saw Gojo Satoru. You stuck to your word and left. Truly left him unlike other people who would’ve rolled over and let themselves forgive someone who betrayed them. You promised yourself happiness. You cut back on work and got a therapist. Talking to someone truly puts into perspective how much healing you really needed from having your trust broken. About 6 months after your breakup, you went on a blind date that your friend had set up… which had gone pretty bad, but you kept your hopes up. You wanted things to happen with someone organically and they did, with Nanami. He closed the bar for the day to take you out to his favourite bakery for beignets and cinnamon rolls, then to a museum and dinner later that night. Kento made you feel alive in a different way, in a way that made you feel secure. The more you were around him, the more you fell in love. Everything about him was purely charming to you

He was a former actor turned jazz bar owner (with 6 different branches). He was honest and open with you, always told you what he means, and came to every single one of your shows and events. He loved it when you’d come by during closing time after you’re done work. You’d order takeout on the way back to his place, cuddling while rewatching your favourite childhood sitcoms. Kento promised to never let you walk alone and that’s what he did.

Your friend Utahime was celebrating her birthday. As a survivor of her alcoholic tendencies during uni, she invited you telling you it’s time to get “white girl wasted.” So of course you indulged her, it was her birthday after all. Only to be told last minute your ex had to come because she works with him. She’d be lying if she said she wanted him there but her dear friend, Geto, asked and she couldn’t risk a fight with Gojo Satoru. Now you were reluctantly getting ready. You were in your walk-in closet, deciding what jewelry to wear. You had your lip tucked between your teeth while you stood there lost in thought. Nanami wraps his arms around your waist from behind, making you jump. You turn back and playfully slap his arm before turning back around, holding his hands that trap you close to him.

“Hi angel, almost ready?” He whispers into your ear before gently kissing your neck, then cheek while you look at yourself in the mirror.

“Mmhm! Just picking out my jewelry, wanna help?” You ask, he nods, letting go of you to reach forward, and looking through the drawers of your jewelry box.

“How about these?” He asked, raising his hand to show you the pair of Vivienne Westwood earrings he’d bought for your birthday.

“Pretty.” You smiled at him, turning back around to pull out the matching necklace, switching the necklace to his hand, taking the earrings in yours. “Can you help me?”

he nods, unclasping the necklace, bringing it in front of your neck, fiddling with the clasp once again, trying to get it on. Once done, he waits for you to slip the backing of your earring on, before he turns you around.

“You sure you wanna go tonight? We can stay here and

Yeah, I can do this.” You say, mostly trying to reassure yourself, which you could tell Kento picked up on. He hummed out an okay, before pulling you closer, placing a slow, sensual kiss on your lips.

“Maybe we should stay home…” You said trailing off, making him laugh at your antics.

“Let’s get going, don’t wanna be late now huh.” He teases you, letting go of you, already making his way out of your closet.

“Wait for me!”

You were greeted at the door by Utahime and her girlfriend, your manager, Shoko. You smile at the both of them, giving them a huge while being welcomed into the booming party. You hand your gift to her, who sets it down on the tables filled with them watching them run back to the door after the doorbell was rung again. Nanami slips his hand that was on the small of your back into your hand, letting you lead him through the party to the food table.

“You hungry? Didn’t eat before you left.” You ask, grabbing a couple sweets off the fancy decorative plates on display with small tongs.

“Yeah, want me to get you a drink.”

“Please?” You look at him with a cheeky smile, he squeezes your hand, and nods saying he’ll be right back. You bit your lip, watching your fine ass man walk away. You turn to continue piling sweets onto the small plate. Only to have Nanami’s favourite type of sweet bun snatched away. You look up and groan.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

“How is it fancy to see me here? I introduced you to Utahime.” You replied shortly. In the last year you’ve seen him about 3 times, in little words, you were pissed at him.

“Aww don’t be like that Y/n, it’s been a while since I saw you.” He defended himself, hands raised

“Who’s fault is that?” You remarked, recalling your unread text messages.

He ignores your question. “Look ‘Toru is gonna be here tonight, he’s gonna want to talk to you.”

“I don’t want to talk to him.” You deadpanned.

“I figured, that’s why I'm telling you now.” He said, resting his hand on your shoulder while he turned to leave. “I’m sorry for not being there for you.” He said shortly, quickly leaving after the words leave his mouth. You stand there somewhat shocked before brushing it off when Nanami comes back with a drink for you.

“None for you?” You question, taking a sip of the fruity drink.

“I’m driving, remember?”

“Oh! Yeah! Sorry, can't believe I forgot!” You said, leaning your head against his shoulder.

An hour or two has gone by, the idea of Gojo being here, unknowingly, had completely left your mind as you danced with your boyfriend. He had his arms around your waist, holding you close before you turned around to kiss him; taking him by surprise. Usually he wasn’t one for pda but nobody here would care and you, and he loved indulging in you. He smiles as he kisses you, breaking apart to comment on how eager you are, only for you to agree. One hand slips from your waist to your neck, tilting your head back to kiss you deeper. Though the room was full to the max, he managed to make you feel like the most important person there.

It had been 18 whole months since Gojo Satoru had talked to you, pure radio silent since you left him in the rain. 547 days and nights without you. If someone told him two years ago that you haven’t even read a single text of his in over a day he’d probably think you were dead… Now he was dead to you. The words alone were like experiencing a corkscrew to the heart. Yet his heart still yearned for you.

You hadn’t seen him, but after you left, he was always seeing you. Billboards, Magazines, videos. You were gone yet it felt like you were taunting him. Every now and then he sees you in public, every time he feels his breath hitch, admiring you from a distance. Even at this party, he felt suffocated by your presence. It’s been almost two years and people still ask if he’s your ex. Today was way worse than most times. It was Utahime’s birthday, though she was a CEO of her own fashion magazine company, the two were on talking terms. He got an invitation via his CFO Geto. He would’ve never thought the coquette, Sandy Liang and Miu Miu inspired fashion fanatic would have such a loud, crazy party.

Gojo pushed his way through the crowd of socialites, looking for the hard liquor Utahime always sought to drink during meetings. He scans the large room, filled with streamers, glitter and confetti. He swore he felt his heart beat slow upon realization. There you were. In the corner of a crowded room, making out with the guy that makes his drinks every friday. Satoru scoffed at the sight, taking a glass shot off a tray, downing it quickly before taking two more as he glared the blonde down.

He had one hand on your waist while the other rested on your face, caressing you gently. He stood there red in the face while he watched you smile in between the kisses you shared. The blonde kissed your forehead before saying something to you he couldn’t hear before walking towards the table Gojo stood at. He quickly made a b-line towards you. As he approached you he watched your eyes go wide, making a pain of guilt flood his body as he neared you. You anxiously slip your hands together, looking around the room, playing with your fingers trying not to make eye contact.

“Hey.”

“What do you want?” You get straight to the point, not wanting to talk any longer than you need to.

“Can we please talk? It's been so long since I saw you last and I just want closure.” Gojo spoke softly, putting his hand on your shoulder with a warm smile. You give him a confused look before brushing his hand off your arm.

“What do you need closure about?

“About how we ended things, look, I just wanna talk.” He said in that familiar pouting voice. It made you sick. “Who’s that guy you were talking with?” He asks you, as if he were jealous, his comfortability and tone being too much for you.

“He’s my boyfriend, and he’s just getting me a drink right now, can you leave me alone?” You raise your eyebrow at him, unamused.

“Yeah after you left me expla-“

“I don’t want to hear it, Gojo. It’s been a year and a half, I got over it and so should you.” You say brushing past him. Walking towards Kento, he hands you your drink before you put it down telling him how you want to leave soon, glancing back at him. Noticing his stare before walking out of his eyesight. He noticed Nanami staring, Gojo glared at him, giving him a smug look walking past him in the same direction you went. Purposefully hitting his shoulder as he walked by; glancing back as if to acknowledge him.

He found you hugging the birthday girl, smiling sweetly at your friend while chatting. He smiled to himself, reminiscing the look on your face. He watched you leave, walking out the door. Gojo passed Utahime, muttering a quick happy birthday to her before following after you. He looked around the street, once he spotted you he jogged toward you, standing in front of you to stop you.

“One chance! Please! Just one.” He pleaded, this time his voice was shaking.

You inhaled slowly, rolling your eyes at the sight. “Fine, talk”

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Right now, he looks remorseful; purely full of regret. It was weird how happy the sight made you. It made you feel guilty knowing that you’re happy to see him in distress like you were in.

“I was stupid and selfish. I didn’t know what I wanted, I wasn’t aware of what I really had.” His voice cracked, tears talked down his cheek.

You bit your lip, feeling tears wanted to come up but blink them away, instead watching tears fall down his pale skin.

“Gojo it’s fine, I'm over it. It was a long time ago.” You said exasperated. “I’ve moved on from it. You don’t need to apologize to me, you should go back inside.” You insisted, looking around for Nanami.

“Please, I'd do anything to make this right with you. I love you so much.” You look back at him, scoffing at his words.

“Gojo, I have a boyfriend. I literally just told you about so why are you doing this right now?”

Gojo looked at you wide eyed, more tears rolling down his cheek.

“Please Y/n… I need you.”

“You need me? Are you serious? You expect me to up and leave my boyfriends for the man that cheated on me?” You were met with silence from him. You turn your heel as if to leave, only to turn back to him.

“You’re obsessed, Satoru. You’re the one who hurt me! I don’t owe you an explanation for leaving you, you should just accept it and move on. It’s called letting go!” You exclaimed loudly, meeting the end of your patience. “The entirety of that year, you told me I had nothing to worry about, reassuring me, comforting me when you were just gaslighting me! Do you know how crazy I felt making excuses for you never coming to plans with our friends knowing you were lying to me?” You asked angrily. “I don’t know how long you’ve been fucking her, all that I care about is you being out of my life, forever. I don’t want you anymore and I never needed you. Not like I need him so let me be happy.” You shouted, chest heaving up and down as you tried calming yourself down.

Gojo opened his mouth, about to speak only for you to interject.

“Gojo, I hope the best for you, I truly do, I just hope that your best is nowhere near my happiness.”

Satoru felt his heart once again stop. For the second time tonight he felt frozen and unsure of what to say or do. Tears welled up in his eyes, his hand reaching for yours but stopped after seeing a figure walking up behind you.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Y/n, I never wanted to hurt you.”

You felt a hand gently rest itself onto your shoulder, you looked back to see your boyfriend, you felt your lip quiver as you looked at him. He opens his arms, pulling you into a side hug, guiding you away from Satoru. You took Nanami’s hand into yours, walking away from Gojo. Kento muttered about how strong you were into your ear, pressing a kiss to the side of your face. He gave your hand a tight squeeze, walking you towards the car, his hand left yours, opening your door. He gives you his hand as you step into the car. Closing the door for you once you’re buckled in. He turns, making eye contact with the white haired man, before smirking at him, giving a small wave.

Kento promised to never let you walk alone and that’s what he did.

#— dolly writes #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru angst #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru imagine #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento fluff #jjk angst #gojo satoru x gn reader #nanami kento x gn reader

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gucciwins · 8 months

Note

ok but now i’m curious about when and how jo call end yn mama for the first time

Golden Sparks Josie is ten. It's been fun revisiting this family 1.3k enjoy!

“Do you think Mom or Mumma is better?” Josie asked Harry as he finished braiding her hair. Josie didn’t like Harry doing her hair, but Y/N had an early morning. She didn’t want to wake Jo up early and instead had Harry promise to do his best.

“Think Mom is normal and common here,” Harry answers, his ten-year-old daughter.

She furrowed her eyebrows, “don’t think she likes normal.”

“I’m normal,” Harry defends.

Josie shrugs in the mirror, “not in my eyes.”

Harry deflated because he is a dork at heart, but his daughter didn’t need to be so blunt. “You need to be nicer to your old man.”

Josie laughs loudly in her bathroom. “You’re not old, Dad.”

He pats her shoulders, gesturing he’s done, and follows her to the kitchen, where he will make her breakfast before her game. Y/N promised to meet her there and was sorry she couldn’t drive her there. Jo assured her it was okay. Y/N hadn’t missed a game and wouldn’t be starting now.

“Do you think she’ll like that I call her Mum?” Josie asks Harry, returning to their earlier conversation.

Harry nods, “she’s been in your life for two years. I’d say she fits the role.”

“Just because she’s with you doesn’t make her my mother.”

He sighs because he knows where Josie is coming from. After everything she experienced with her mother, he knows why she’s hesitant to call Y/N a name with so much meaning. After all, she had a mom once, and it wasn’t so good. Maybe calling Y/N Mum or Mumma would be another way of Josie to reclaim the word and give them all a new meaning.

“Y/N loves you, Josephine. She’s loved you since you opened up to her when you joined the team. Sometimes, I feel like Y/N knows you better than I do. And you’re my kid,” Harry shares. “She’s engaged to me, but it unites us all as a family when we marry. Even if we don’t share the same last name, the three of us will become one family.”

“We can take hers,” Josie suggests.

Harry kisses her head. “We’d have to talk with her about that too.”

“Do you think she considers me hers–like her child?”

Harry wishes he had all the answers for Josie, but he doesn’t, though this answer is one he’s confident in. Y/N talks about all of Josie’s accomplishments, sharing them with her family. “I can’t speak to her. I do know that every I love you she’s ever told you is real. She’s lived with us for over a year.” Y/N had been right by Harry’s side for every parent meeting open house and picked up Josie from school most of the time. She was a mother in all ways but one.

“Didn’t we move in?” Josie corrects him.

“Alright, you smarty pants,” Harry shakes his head. “You can start walking to your game.”

“Dad,” Josie drags out his name.

He swings her bag over his shoulder, thankful he had already set the cooler in the car. “Kidding, now off we go. You’re mum,” he teases, is big on punctuality.

Arriving at the field, Y/N is already there and has the first drill for warm-up set up. There is already a dad talking to her, and Harry’s sure it’s Dana’s dad who’s been chatting her up, even with the engagement ring on her finger. After last week's practice, Harry may have gone a little overboard with the PDA, but the guy can’t take a hint. Thankfully, Josie quickly runs over to her, and the man excuses himself.

His heart warms seeing his two favorite people, Y/N quick to kiss her cheek and commenting on Josie’s lopsided braids. He tried, but there is no one better than Y/N, that’s for sure. Harry sets his chair close to the girls' bench because while Y/N is focused during the game, he manages to steal a kiss or two during a throw-in or a corner if he’s lucky.

Y/N is now crouched down, tying Josie’s shoes. They’re whispering to each other about something, but Harry doesn’t dare interrupt. Y/N pats Josie’s knees and tells her she’s all good to go. One last hug and his little girl is running onto the field, where the assistant coach stands with a few other girls. The girls always liked terrorizing Kate, wanting to know about her three cats.

“Darling,” Harry sings. “Missed you.”

Y/N steps into his open arms, laying her head on his chest. “Love you, sorry I had to leave so early.”

“All forgiven now.” Y/N grins. “Only if I get to pick where we eat?” Harry knows she loves choosing, but he wants today to be special.

“Mexican?”

Harry kisses her lips. “You read my mind.”

“Did Jo seem a bit jittery to you?” Y/N changes the subject. “She’s usually calm before a game.”

Harry frowns, “did she say anything new to you?”

Y/N shakes her head.

“Then no, I have no idea.”

Weird answer Y/N thought, but decided to brush it off. “Alright, love. I’m off.”

“Hate to see you leave, but love to watch you go,” he whispered.

“Dork!” Y/N shouted.

The game went well, with Golden Sparks winning 3-1 with Josie giving two assists. Y/N was waving goodbye to her players when he spotted Josie lingering away. Juliet followed Y/N’s every move, still as in awe of her aunt as when Harry first met her. Juliet got called away by Xavier, who was dealing with two toddlers. Y/N kissed her niece goodbye, promising to see her tomorrow for the pool party Y/N was hosting to celebrate the start of summer.

“Job well done, Jo.” Y/N swings Josie’s bag over her shoulder while Harry takes Y/N’s. She playfully tugs it back but lets it slip when Harry looks sternly at her.

“Are we eating at home?” Jo asks them.

Y/N smiles down at Josie. “Your dad wants Mexican. You alright with that?”

“Perfect. Can I have the keys?” Y/N offers her own, knowing Josie prefers to ride with Y/N after a game.

Josie hugs her waist tight. “I’m riding with Mum, Dad.”

Y/N freezes in place as she processes what Josie called her. Harry is right by her side, failing to hold back his grin.

Josie called her Mom. She heard it clear as day. Josie said it so confidently it was as if she’d been calling her that all her life.

“Did-did she call me?” She stutters.

Harry laughs, “you heard her, baby.”

Y/N’s eyes welled up with tears. She tries to hold them back but lets them fall as Harry embraces her.

She drops the bag on her shoulder, knowing Harry would pick it up, and tells him to make their food order to go. Y/N kisses Harry, muttering against his lips how much she loves him, and then takes off running to her car, eager to see her little girl and see if she’d call her Mom once more.

Y/N swings open the door on the right side where Josie always sits. She’s singing along to the radio, the AC on blast, and Y/N hugs her.

“Mumma, what’s going on?”

“I love you so much, baby. So much. You’re the best thing to have ever happened to me and your dad. Don’t know what I did to deserve someone as amazing as you to choose me as their Mom.” Y/N cries, not able to hide her emotions.

Jo hugs her tiger, “I love you too, Mum.”

Y/N wants to live in this moment forever but knows they should get home. “Let’s go home, Jo.”

“Stevie Nicks, Mum?”

“Perfect choice.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles story #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fluff #dad harry #harry x y/n #fluff #harry styles au #harry blurb #harry styles drabble

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dreamwritesimagines · 9 months

Text

Garden of Secrets [33] - Stinging Nettle

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: The hours before an important ball can be very tense.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of trauma and violence.

Word Count: 3400

Series Masterlist

Though attending parties hadn’t been a habit of yours up until you got married, you’d grown quite fond of them fast. Maybe it was the entertaining conversations, the company of your friends, drinks, or perhaps the overall free atmosphere that one could not have at a ball but now that you were here, you were now beginning to realize how much you had missed it.

“You seem to be in deep thought.”

Your head shot up and you turned around to see Lord Easton at the entrance of the balcony you were standing in. You smiled at him, then lifted the glass in your hand a bit, the chatter and the music coming from inside reaching the balcony as well.

“I may have drunk a bit too much,” you admitted. “Wanted to get some fresh air.”

“May I join you?”

“Of course,” you said and he closed the balcony door behind him, then approached you as you turned again to watch the beautiful view under the night sky. He placed his glass on the marble railing of the balcony and you stole a look at him.

“They’re having some sort of a sketching competition back in there.”

“Oh I saw it,” he said. “I think I will sit that one out.”

“You don’t want to practice?” you joked and he chuckled.

“I probably should, now that you mention it.”

“Mm hm,” you said. “I mean who else should practice if not the famed artist with thousands of admirers and many credits to his name?”

“No one is ever too good to practice,” he told you. “Especially an artist.”

You thought for a moment, then turned to him.

“Lord Easton—”

“Gordon,” he corrected you. “Your husband is a good friend of mine, and I consider you and I friends as well.”

You smiled slightly.

“Very well,” you said. “May I ask a favor of you, Gordon?”

“Of course.”

“My aunt is throwing a ball tomorrow,” you said. “And if you dropped by even for a short time, it would make her very happy. Not to mention the ton admires you so much and…you know how it goes.”

He smiled and bowed his head slightly.

“It would be my honor and privilege,” he said, making you beam.

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

A giggle escaped from your lips.

“Oh thank you!” you said. “She will be so happy. I’ll um— I’ll send you the invitation tomorrow?”

“I’m looking forward to it,” he said. “And there’s no need to thank me, I assure you.”

You sipped your drink, then stole a look at him.

“Does it ever tire you?”

“Attending balls?”

“No, the…” you motioned with your hands. “The attention from the ton, all the time.”

He hummed, reaching out to grab his glass to swirl the drink in it.

“Occupational hazard,” he said with a smile, making you laugh. “I mean it has its moments. I don’t mind it most of the time, balls are a way of socializing for example so that’s expected, but sometimes when I’m by myself on the street, I simply want to observe the crowd in quiet.”

“I could never be an artist,” you said, shaking your head and he raised his brows.

“You don’t enjoy attention?”

“I hate it,” you admitted. “I experienced it when I first debuted, with the suitors and such and I’m just…It’s not for me.”

“You might have to get used to some attention though,” he said, making you frown.

“How so?”

“Have you seen your husband’s works?” he joked. “Once he gets into the Academy and people start seeing how talented he is…”

“Benedict is good with all that,” you said. “No issues there, people already pay lots of attention to him, he’s used to that.”

“You’re his ultimate inspiration,” he reminded you. “People will be curious about you as well.”

You paused for a second, then shrugged your shoulders.

“That’s different than being an artist,” you said, trying to ignore the way your cheeks were burning and turned your head to check out what was happening inside. They seemed to have finished with their competition judging by the familiar faces in the room, so you nodded in the direction of the room.

“I’ll go back inside,” you said. “Are you coming?”

“In a moment,” he said and you clinked your glass with his, then made your way back inside. Your gaze fell on Benedict and Margery who were having a conversation at the corner of the room and your stomach did an unpleasant flip, but you shook your head at yourself and made your way to them. Margery cleared her throat when she saw you out of the corner of her eye and gave Benedict a warning look but it was gone so fast that you couldn’t even decide whether you had actually seen it before Benedict turned his head.

“Hello darling,” he said, but his soft tone did nothing to soothe the insecurity shooting through you.

“Am I interrupting something?” you asked, making Benedict shake his head. “Because I can just—”

“Oh you’re not interrupting anything,” Margery said with a laugh. “I was just giving Benedict a hard time because he had the audacity to badmouth Byron’s poetry in front of me.”

Benedict made a face. “I cannot believe you actually like his poetry.”

Margery heaved a sigh and turned to you.

“I give up,” she announced, making the corners of your lips twitch. “I’m going to need more drinks, excuse me.”

She walked away from you both and you pursed your lips together, then looked up at Benedict.

“Are you sure I didn’t interrupt?”

“Not at all,” he assured you with a small grin and entwined his fingers with yours, making your heart skip a beat. “Are you having fun?”

“I am, and I kind of missed it actually,” you admitted. “Coming to parties and such.”

“Did you?”

You nodded. “One would think you’re a bad influence, you hedonist artist.”

He gave you that lopsided grin. “Me, a bad influence?” he asked. “You’re the one with the knife.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Yes but you’re the one with the debauchery.”

“Fair point,” he said and you repressed a laugh.

“Who won the sketching competition by the way?”

“Felix,” he said. “Lucy gave him full points.”

“Of course she did,” you said, stealing a look at Lucy who was now talking to Margery. “So Byron hm?”

“Huh?” Benedict asked before frowned. “Oh yeah! Margery admires his lines a lot for some reason.”

“Right,” you said, that uncomfortable feeling twisting at your stomach again but before you could say anything else, Benedict pulled at your hand gently.

“Come on,” he said, “I’ll show you the winning sketch, Felix is very proud of it.”

You and Benedict had returned home around dawn and Benedict had an appointment with Gordon in the morning and Anthony in the afternoon, so by the time you woke up, he had already left home to meet Gordon. You had asked to take your breakfast in the drawing room as you tried to decide what the best time would be to drop by your uncle’s home before tonight’s ball to see if they needed any help.

Perhaps afternoon?

You sipped your tea while reading your book and as you bit into your toast, Paula entered the drawing room.

“Ma’am, Miss Harlowe is here.”

“Oh?” you said, putting down your toast and dusted the crumbs off your hands before standing up. Lottie stepped into the drawing room and made her way to you to pull you into a hug.

“Good morning!”

“Hello there,” you said with a smile and pulled back to look at her. “You look happy.”

“I am happy!” she said. “I have news for you.”

“That’s wonderful!” you said “Paula, can you bring Lottie some biscuits and tea?”

“Of course ma’am,” she said and walked out of the room, and you and Lottie sat down on the sofa.

“What’s the good news?” you asked and she squealed, shifting her weight.

“I wanted to tell you before the ball tonight,” she said. “And Tony will tell Benny and Colin this afternoon but I couldn’t wait until then.”

“Couldn’t wait for what?”

“We’re getting married!” she exclaimed and your eyes widened, a gasp getting caught in your throat.

“What?!”

“Yes and we will tell the rest of the family tonight—”

“Wh-how?!” you asked as a happy laugh escaped from your lips and you hugged her. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you!”

“You must tell me everything from the beginning,” you said as you pulled back. “How did he ask? When did he ask?”

An abashed look crossed her face and she cleared her throat.

“Well, um…” she said, nibbling on her lip. “It’s sort of—you must first promise me you will never tell anyone.”

“Of course I will not,” you assured her as a maid walked in with a tray of biscuits and tea. You thanked her, and watched her walk away before turning to Lottie. “Tell me.”

“A week ago.”

“A week ago?!” you asked. “And you didn’t tell me? Wait, is this payback for—”

“No no, it isn’t!” she cut you off. “Of course not.”

“Then?”

She took a deep breath, then sipped her tea.

“Do you remember how Tony and I left Bess’s ball early?”

You tilted your head. “Yes.”

“Well we wanted to talk more you see, and I’m very familiar with sneaking into Bridgerton House because I used to do that a lot when I was little, and everyone was either asleep or at the ball,” she said, making you raise your brows. “And we…we did talk.”

A small smirk pulled at your lips.

“Oh?” you asked. “You sneaked into his house just to talk?”

She repressed a smile. “At first yes.”

“Then?”

“You and I had a conversation earlier that day,” she said, shyness apparent in her tone. “And you said that it felt divine, and I already knew Anthony and I are in love, and…”

Your jaw dropped and you let out a laugh.

“Oh wow.”

“And then he asked me to marry him.”

Alright, this was official; you were the only one who wasn’t consummating her marriage.

“But a week ago?” you asked, trying to focus. “You’ve been engaged for a week and neither of you told—”

“It was my idea,” she said. “I asked him to wait for a week.”

“Why?”

“Well…” she heaved a sigh. “I wanted to tell all of you yes, but Colin was still very heartbroken over what happened with Miss Marina and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings accidentally. You know, first Benny, then Daphne, now Tony finding love and not Colin, at least yet.”

You stared at her, warmth filling your chest. “You waited for a week so that Colin wouldn’t feel bad?”

She nodded.

“He’s like a brother to me,” she said. “We all grew up together.”

You reached out to squeeze her hand. “Oh Lottie…”

“But we will tell our families tonight!” she said. “And Tony will tell them beforehand, and I’m telling you now.”

“I’m glad you are,” you said with a laugh. “Well I’m so happy for you! I told you he would propose within the season.”

“I still cannot believe it,” she said. “I’m the happiest person in the world.”

You grinned at her.

“And I take it your night was divine?”

She gasped, a giggle escaping from her lips. “Y/N!”

“What?” you asked, feigning innocence. “I mean you’re marrying him so—”

“It was more than divine,” she said, biting on her lip in embarrassment. “It was perfect.”

Oh well, you were going to take her word for it.

Hers and Daphne’s and your aunt’s and Benedict’s, to be more specific. Considering everyone else had experienced it but you, you could only believe them instead of seeing it for yourself.

“I’m glad to hear it,” you said, a smile warming your face and she shifted on the sofa.

“The ton will not be very nice, I think,” she said. “They weren’t nice when they thought Benny and I were in courtship, or when I was in actual courtship with Tony, and now that we’re engaged, I can’t help but think—”

“Lottie,” you interrupted her. “What the ton thinks does not matter at all. Let them speak, they do little else anyway.”

She nodded slowly.

“I just…” she trailed off. “I just wish they knew how in love we are.”

You waved a hand in the air.

“They will,” you said. “Never mind them. Now, tell me what you’re planning for the wedding.”

By the time Benedict got back home from his meeting with Gordon, it was nearly noon and Lottie had already left. You had promised her you would be her maid of honor and help her with everything concerning the wedding, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t excited for it. Lottie had asked for your help with her wedding bouquet and the flowers for the wedding breakfast, and you were trying to come up with different combinations when you heard a knock on the door and lifted your head to see Benedict.

“Oh hello,” you said, closing your notebook before he could see the flower arrangement ideas you were writing down. He gave you a happy smile.

“Hey,” he said and stepped inside. “Working on something?”

“Maybe,” you said with a smirk. “Scared I will become your artistic rival?”

“Mm, I wouldn’t stand a chance against you,” he teased, making you giggle. He walked towards you to fling himself on the sofa next to you, then reached out to grab a biscuit from the plate on the small coffee table.

“How is Gordon?”

“He’s fine,” he said. “I think he’s working on a painting. The gala should be fun.”

“The gala?” you asked. “They hold galas for only one painting?”

“When it’s the painting of that big of an artist, yes.”

“Are you looking forward to your own galas?” you asked, making him grin.

“Let me get one painting into the Academy first, and we’ll build from there,” he replied and you shot him a look.

“I’ll remind this to you on your gala,” you mused and tilted your head. “I’m assuming I will be invited?”

“You’ll be the guest of honor,” he told you and you let out a laugh.

“I like the sound of that.”

“How about you?” he asked. “How was your day?”

“Rather interesting,” you said. “Are you meeting Anthony and Colin after this?”

He nodded, biting into his biscuit.

“Apparently Anthony has something he wants to say to us.”

“Wonder what that might be,” you muttered, trying to keep a straight face. Benedict shrugged his shoulders.

“Who knows?” he said. “And you? Any plans before the ball tonight?”

“I’ll visit auntie to see if she needs any help before people arrive,” you said. “I’ll get back around the evening, get dressed here and then we can go together.”

“Do you need any help before that?”

You bit back a smirk. “I can handle auntie,” you said. “Besides, I think today will be hectic enough for you.”

“Why?”

“Just a feeling,” you said and he narrowed his eyes, his whole attention on you.

“Wait, what do you know?”

“Nothing at all,” you said, feigning innocence. “It’s merely a hunch. Speaking of, shouldn’t you be on your way anyway? “

A chuckle climbed up his throat. “Are you trying to get rid of me, dear wife?”

Your jaw dropped.

“No!” you exclaimed. “I’m just saying, Anthony isn’t exactly known for his endless patience.”

He popped the rest of the biscuit into his mouth. “He should learn, I heard people say it’s a virtue.”

“Oh is that so?” you said with a huff of laughter spilling from your lips. “You know a lot about patience then?”

“Is this the part you call me the ton’s horizontal refreshment again?”

“If you’re going to claim to be a patient person, yes,” you pointed out, making him clutch at his chest as if he was heartbroken.

“Ouch,” he said. “I am a patient person.”

“You are the perfect picture of hedonism, that’s what you are.”

“Well hedonism is a bit of a—”

“Drinking, partying,” you said, counting with your fingers. “Being very intimate with a lot of ladies…”

The tips of his ears went pink and he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You know what, you’re probably right,” he said after a pause. “I shouldn’t keep Anthony waiting.”

“You’re going to avoid this conversation just like that?”

“Judging by how our earlier conversations on this went, I’m taking my leave before you ask me—”

“Before I ask you how exactly it was like during those parties?”

“That yes,” he pointed out and pushed himself off of the sofa as you repressed a laugh. He leaned in to kiss the top of your head, making your heart skip a beat.

“See you in the evening,” he murmured and walked out of the room. You were painfully aware of the smile on your face, and you dragged the tip of your tongue over your bottom lip before you heaved a sigh and slipped a little on the sofa, leaning your head back.

You knew that Teddy had stayed at Josie and Andrew’s house last night because your uncle’s house was absolute chaos because of the upcoming ball, people working day and night. Not only that, the last you heard Andrew was letting him ride his pony inside the house so you were quite certain Teddy had no issues with the preparations of the ball.

You wouldn’t have been surprised if he began insisting on staying there half of the week to be honest.

With the way your aunt had been working to make this ball perfect, you could only hope that everything would go well tonight. Almost everyone you knew was going to be there, so you were sure that it was going to be fun.

Now all you had to do was to convince your aunt of that.

The carriage stopped in front of the house and you made your way past the gate, but instead of going into the house you figured you could check on your garden first. So you passed by the house to reach the backyard, then tilted your head when you saw your aunt there, talking to the gardener.

“Auntie?” you called out and she turned around, a look of surprise flashing over her face.

“Y/N my dear!” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to see if you needed any help before tonight,” you answered. “And to see the garden while I’m at it.”

“Oh that’s sweet of you,” she said and came to hug you, then pulled back to look at you better. “No need for that, almost all the preparations are finished.”

“In that case, can I see the ballroom?” you asked with a laugh. “I’m curious, you’ve been working on it for so long.”

She hesitated for a moment, then waved a hand in the air. “What would be the surprise then?”

You huhed.

“That’s fair,” you said. “Anyways, I have a surprise guest for the ball, you will lose your mind when you see him and so will the ton—”

“Y/N, perhaps you should go home and get some rest,” your aunt cut you off almost in a distracted manner. “It’ll be a long night tonight, you know?”

You tilted your head in confusion.

“Are you sure you’re alright auntie?”

“…Of course,” she said after a pause. “Just—you know, preparing a ball is rather stressful.”

“I can imagine,” you said. “One of the many reasons why I will never throw a ball I think.”

She smiled at you, but it faded when her eyes found something over your shoulder. You pulled your brows into a frown and turned around to follow her line of sight, but as soon as you did, you froze. You could feel your whole body stiffening, your heart leaping to your throat as you stared at the familiar face who had the audacity to smile at you, that throbbing pain in your wrist coming back in full force.

“I hear congratulations are in order?”

You weren’t sure how you found your voice, but somehow you managed to speak through frozen lips.

“Hello father.”

Chapter 34

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

817 notes · View notes

daddy-dotcom · 9 months

Text

The Visit

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Things aren’t looking good for Spencer after his visit to Mexico. So you decide to prepare for the worst, and you knew getting married was the only surefire way to stay connected while he was locked up.

Rating: M

Words: 5,333

Warnings: Language, typical canon violence, smut (fingering, p in v, breeding kink if you squint, unprotected sex)

*Disclaimer: Major inaccuracies for how the American prison system works lol*

TL;DR: Spencer and Reader get married so that they can have conjugal visits while he's in prison.

__________________________________________

I couldn’t bear to see him like this. Even worse, I couldnt bear to not be able to hold him and tell him everything was okay. Seeing him behind bars, alone, was enough to make me fight back tears. I’ve seen him hurt before, but this was different. It was almost as if I were staring at the ghost of Spencer Reid. I knew going to Mexico to get his mother’s medication was risky, but I had no idea that he’d end up in this much trouble. I should have stopped him. I should have gone with him. But no matter how guilty I was feeling, the damage was already done. With no concrete evidence that he was framed, it looked like Spencer was most likely going to be found guilty for murder. The love of my life was going to prison and I was completely helpless in the situation. At least I thought I was. . .until an idea struck me. An insane idea, and somewhat of a long shot, but an idea nonetheless, some small way to help Spencer keep his sanity while he was locked up. I wasn’t sure if he would go for it, but I had to try.

“hey, Spence,” I said with my face pressed against the cool metal of the bars.

“hi, (Y/N)” he said with the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

“you’re looking more like yourself, baby. And they’re letting you come home with us on the jet.”

He slowly nodded his head in agreement, unsure of what else to say. For a man who typically had so much to say, it was eerie to be in such a silent room.

It’s now or never.

“So Spence, you know I was thinking, in case the…the unthinkable happens, and you aren’t acquitted…” I was fighting back the tears, trying to get my idea across,

“…maybe we should…I think it might be a good idea if we…get married?”

He immediately looked up to meet my gaze, looking more alive than he has the entire time we’ve been in Mexico.

“Married?” he said softly.

“Well it would only be so I can visit you, Spence. I mean like visit you visit you, without all the guards watching us and in a place where I can actually hold you and spend more time with you. Hell, I can’t even hug you for more than a couple seconds during a regular visit”

I could see the gears turning in his mind, something I’ve seen a million times, but I couldn’t tell if he was actually considering my offer.

“It’s been a year Spence, it’s not like we haven’t talked about it.”

It’s true. We’ve been dating for over a year now, and we’ve both made it clear that we’d like to marry each other some day. But we never imagined it would be this soon and under these circumstances.

Spencer got up from the bench he’d been sitting on and came over to hold my hand through the bars.

“Even if I weren’t facing prison time…it would be an absolute honor to marry you, (Y/N)”

All of the tension in my body melted away now that I knew he was on board with my proposition. I gave him a warm smile as he gently cupped my face in his hands. He planted a soft kiss on my forehead and held onto my hand before getting down on one knee.

“If we’re going to do this, I’d at least like to propose to you properly,” he said, with as much of a smile as he could muster.

“(YFN/YLN), will you marry me?” he asked.

The dam finally broke and I couldn’t fight back the tears any longer. They began to stream down my face as I let out a firm and resounding “Yes.”

______________________________

I was practically squirming in my seat on the plane ride home. It was almost impossible to keep this secret and it took everything I had not to blurt out our plan. I knew that I had to tell them soon, since we were going to need their help to make this happen. With a deep breath, I pulled Spencer up from our seats and marched over to the rest of the team.

“Guys, Spencer and I have an announcement to make,”

“Oh my god you’re not pregnant, are you?” said JJ.

“No! No, it’s not that,” I replied, I hesitated before dropping the bomb.

“Spencer and I are getting married.”

Prentiss and JJ exchanged a confused look while Alvez’s mouth hung open in shock. Rossi, however, seemed to know exactly what was going on.

“Oh I get it, you two want to get married so that (Y/N) can request ‘family visits.’” The implications of putting the word ‘family visits’ in airquotes was not lost on me. “You all might of heard of what they used to call them back in the day: conjugal visits.”

“Actually the practice conjugal visits have evolved into a more family oriented experience. Modern family visits usually last the weekend and include children and other family members besides just a spouse.”

“Glad to see you’re almost back to normal, kid” quipped Rossi.

“Well if we’re going to do this, we’re going to need some help. Prentiss, do you have anyone that can meet us at Quantico and marry us on such short notice?” I asked.

“I’m already making the call.”

“Does anyone else think this is just a little bit crazy? There’s a good chance that Spence won’t even go to prison at all,” JJ said.

Alvez snapped out of his daze and interjected.

“I agree, but if Reid and (Y/N) get to spend some alone-time together in the event that he does go, I don’t see the harm. I mean come on, Rossi’s been married like what, five times?”

“Hey, it’s only been three times,” Rossi responded.

“Look, JJ, you would do it for Will, wouldn’t you?”

She paused for a minute, pondering my question.

With a sympathetic look, JJ responded

“of course I would.”

_________________________________

As soon as we landed, we were greeted by Garcia and the court officiant who Prentiss had called on the plane. Garcia nearly tackled us coming out of the elevator, completely overjoyed to see Spencer home in one piece.

“Oh I’m so glad you’re all home safe!” she said squeezing us in a tight embrace.“But I can’t believe I had to find out about your engagement via a text from Alvez!”

“Sorry Penn, it was super last minute,” I said with a shrug.

“I brought you some things while you were on the plane ride home. (Y/N), for you I got a white dress, sorry I had to guess on the size, and Reid I asked your mom’s nurse if it was okay to grab a clean suit from your apartment.”

“Oh Penn, you didn’t have to do all this. Where did you even find a dress on such short notice?”

“Emily’s not the only one with connections sweet cheeks,” she said with a wink.

“Thank you so much, really Penn I appreciate it.”

“No need to thank me, now you and boy-wonder go get dressed so we can get you hitched.”

I took the bag from Penelope and inspected its contents once inside the bathroom. It was a simple but gorgeous white gown. It came down to about my calves, and it had white cap sleeves with a sweetheart neckline.

Classy. The woman has good taste.

I took a deep breath before exiting the stall, and I was greeted by Penelope, Emily, and JJ standing by the sink.

They all turned their heads towards me and gasped before looking me up and down.

“You look absolutely stunning,” said Emily.

“Spence is definitely gonna cry when he sees how gorgeous you look,” added JJ.

The tears had already started streaming down Penelope’s face as she walked over to me and placed one of her bracelets on my wrist.

“There, now you have your something blue,” she said with teary eyes. “You make the most beautiful bride (Y/N)”

“I’d love to stay in here and continue this little bachelorette party but our court official is waiting out there to marry our two lovebirds,” said Emily.

With one final look in the mirror, I took a deep breath and headed out the door, on my way to officially become Mrs. Spencer Reid. The reality of marriage hadn't hit me until just now. Who can blame me? I'd only become someone's fiancé about 5 hours ago. My palms began to sweat as my priorities shifted towards my impending marriage. Even if I wasn't ready, it was my idea in the first place and I intended to keep my end of the bargain. I, however, was more worried about Spencer. What if he was having second thoughts? I barely brought the idea up to him a few hours ago, and he was coming off of drugs in a Mexican jail cell when he agreed. Just as I was begging to spiral, a hand grazed the side of my waist and Spencer appeared. He cleaned up surprisingly well given the circumstances, looking incredibly handsome in his suit.

"Nervous?" he asked. As a profiler and a genius, there was no way I was going to be able to conceal my nerves from him.

"Spence, don't you know you're not supposed to see me in my dress before the ceremony?" I joked.

"(Y/N), you know I don't believe in superstitions," he said wryly.

"But yes, I am little nervous, mostly because I was afraid you might be having second thoughts."

He smiled warmly, the same way he had done when he agreed to marry me earlier in the day.

"Living in Vegas, and working with Rossi, I've known quite a bit of people who've gotten married on a whim. While it might be a little sooner than we thought, it's giving me a chance to hold you close in case I..." his voice began to crack and I could see his eyes welling up, "...in case I get taken into custody. But trust me, (Y/N), there was never a doubt in my mind about marrying you, especially now that I'm seeing how beautiful you look in a wedding dress."

I was tearing up too, at this point, for about the fifth time today. I took both of his hands in mine and simply said "I love you Spence,"

"I love you too, (Y/N)."

____________________________________________

We walked hand in hand into the briefing room where everyone was waiting anxiously for us and Spencer and I took our place across from each other in front of the court official. We joined hands once more and I could see Penelope shoot me a thumbs while Alvez gave Spence a reassuring pat on the back. The official began to speak which caused my heart to practically beat out of my chest.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here tonight to join this man and this woman in matrimony."

He turns toward Spencer before speaking again.

“Spencer, do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do” he said while maintaining my gaze. I could see tears start to form in the corners of his eyes, causing my eyes to well up too. But I couldn’t cry, because if I started now, I wouldn’t be able to stop.

“(Y/N), do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

“I do,” I manage to say with a lump forming in my throat.

The court official turns back to Spencer and asks him to repeat after him.

"I, Spencer Reid, take you (Y/N), to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer,” I could hear his voice start to crack as he fought back more tears, “in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."

He said this with such conviction that there was no doubt in my mind that I wanted to marry this man. I’d never seen his eyes so full of love before. It was those kind eyes looking back at me that turned one of the worst days into the happiest day of my life. Now, it was my turn to recite my vows and officially become Mrs. Reid.

“I, (YFN/YLN), take you, Spencer Reid, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."

It took everything in my power not to become a blubbering mess during my vows. Penelope, however, had no problem letting the tears flow freely down her rosy pink cheeks.

"By virtue of the authority vested in me under the laws of the District of Columbia, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

The court official gave a small smile before turning to Spencer and saying “you may kiss the bride."

Spencer wasted no time moving his hands to sit comfortably on my hips and I pulled his face in close for a kiss. This was something we’d done a million times before, but never for an audience. As soon as his lips touched mine, however, it felt as if we were the only two people in the room. All the exhaustion, pain, and suffering from the events of Mexico seemed to melt away as we kissed. He continued to press his lips more forcefully against mine and I could feel the slightest brush of his tongue before a voice spoke up from the crowd.

“Alright you two save it for the honeymoon,” Rossi joked.

We slowly pulled away and both our our cheeks began to blush like teenagers who’d just been caught by their parents. One by one, our team members came over to congratulate us and Penelope and JJ wanted a million pictures. We spent the rest of our night talking, laughing, and even dancing with our team members, just happy to find joy in this moment of darkness. Little did we know, Mexico was only the beginning of our troubles.

________________________________

Our wedding celebrations were cut short with the announcement that the FBI would not be legally representing Spencer since he broke protocol and didn’t inform them of his trip to Mexico. Once he went to trial, we still had no concrete evidence that he was framed, and his DNA was found on the murder weapon. Our worst nightmare had finally come true. Spencer was taken into custody and and whisked away to prison. A small part of me was grateful that I was now legally his wife, but I still wished that it didn’t have to happen under these circumstances. The day he was taken to prison, I immediately applied to be granted family visits and I begged Prentiss and Alvez to call in every favor they could to get moved up the waitlist. It was going to take a couple of months for Spencer to prove he was behaving in prison, but I could still visit him regularly before then. A couple of weeks after he was taken into custody, he was finally allowed to have visitors, and the team all unanimously agreed that I should be his first one. I wasn’t granted a family visit just yet, but I needed to see his face and finally be able to talk to him.

As I walked into the Millburn Correctional Facility, I was searched, went through a metal detector, and searched again before I was led into a room filled with a long partition and chairs on either side. I found a seat in the corner that had no one on either side of me and waited for Spencer to arrive. I nervously tapped my finger on the table as I anxiously waited to see my husband for the first time since he was taken to prison. I turned my head to see a tall, lanky figure in a white t-shirt and blue pants with a matching blue button up walking towards me. I could see his eyes light up when he spotted me and I could feel my entire being do the same.

“Hi baby,” I said, just happy to finally see him.

“Hi my love,” he replied with a ghost of a smile creeping up on his lips. I could tell he was slightly thinner and probably not sleeping well. However, his casual outfit combined with his shaggy hair and the growing stubble on his face somehow made him even more attractive.

“You look good baby, you holding up okay so far?”

“I'm doing okay, given the circumstances. How's my mom? Is she doing alright?"

"She's doing fine actually, Cassie said that she was having a really good day yesterday."

"Where did you, uh, tell her I was?"

"Uh, the beach," I told him with a chuckle, "well she asked if that's where you were and it seemed to make her happy so..."

"Good."

There was a pause and I couldn't tear my eyes away from his gaze. He wasn't breaking eye contact either and I could feel the love behind his stare.

"I, uh, I'm really happy to see you," he said, "I kind of wish you hadn't come, it's uh, not the best idea."

His words hurt slightly, but I knew the state that his mind was in. He didn't want to become a target and he definitely didn't want me to see him like this.

"Sorry Spence, but you're stuck with me," I said with a smile, "you got stuck with me the day you agreed to be my husband. And the last time I saw you, we promised for better or for worse. Besides, this is just the beginning, I've already applied for family visit privileges and we should be getting a date any day now. You don't know how badly I wish I could just hug you, Spence."

I saw him look down, I'm assuming in an attempt to fight back tears, before he spoke again.

"Thank you, (Y/N). I'm so grateful everyday that you're now my wife. But if you're here, that means you're not out working on a case, and I don't want to be a burden."

"That's nonsense Spence, you could never be a burden to me."

"Tell me about the case then, it will help get my mind off... all this."

I proceeded to give him the details of our latest case and I assured him that the rest of the team would be coming by to check in on him and visit him as well. It pained me that I couldn't hug or kiss him goodbye, but I held out hope that it wouldn't be long before I finally could.

While our team members were busy taking turns visiting Spencer in prison, I decided to start writing him letters. Most of them consisted of me catching him up on cases and my personal life, or lack thereof, while others were love letters that expressed just how much I truly missed him. Even though Spencer Reid is a certified genius and an excellent agent, at the end of the day he was still just a man and I knew that the stress that came with being in prison combined with not being able to touch me everyday was likely driving him insane. Luckily, our prayers had been answered and all of the favors from Prentiss and Alvez came through. I finally received a date for my family visit with Spencer, which would be three weeks from now. In the meantime, I began penning a letter to Spencer to tell him the good news. But this wouldn't be one of our typical letters; this letter was going to be much dirtier in nature. I had to admit that I too was starting to feel the effects from the lack of physical contact. So in my letter, I was going to tell him exactly what I wanted to do with him at our "family visit."

_______________________________

The day had finally arrived. Not only was I going to be able to see my husband, I was going to be able to hug him, touch him, hold him, and kiss him…among other things. In all honesty, I was just excited to see him with some semblance of normalcy. I had been researching spousal visits for the past three weeks, and the general consensus was that all of these women were dressing to impress. So I put on my nicest skirt, tight-fitting one that I had previously purchased with the intention of wearing to work but it was slightly too short for the office, and a floral blouse with spaghetti straps that was just low-cut enough to see the top of my cleavage. I paired the outfit with nude stilettos and fixed up my hair and makeup as nicely as I could. While my outfit certainly didn’t leave everything to the imagination, I still had to maintain a certain level of modesty. After all, I was still a federal agent.

The search process for spousal visits was much more intense, so much so that I couldn’t even bring my phone into the room with me. I was, however, allowed to bring books and a chess set for Spencer. I made my way through a longer hallway than the one I had gone through the last time, which led out to a courtyard where a row of temporary buildings sat. I was then escorted into one of the 4 rooms in the building and I was instructed to wait for the guards to bring Spencer in. I sat with my legs crossed on the bed in the middle of the room, which was unsurprisingly bare. The room resembled a somewhat nice motel room, with a kitchenette in one corner, a couch in the other, and a separate bathroom. The only sounds I could hear in the room were the ticking of the clock on the wall and the pounding of my heart in my chest. I wasn't nervous to see my husband, it was actually just the opposite. I was positively inpatient at the thought of finally being able to make physical contact with the love of my life. In an effort to distract myself, I poked around the bedside table, knowing damn well what I was going to find. There were more innocent items in the drawer, like soap and toothpaste, and right next to it were lubricant and condoms. We won't be needing those, I thought to myself with a smirk forming at the corner of my lips. I was startled by a knock at the door and quickly shut the door. I quickly adjusted my top and fixed my hair before replying.

"Come in!"

The door slowly swung open to reveal a handcuff-free Spencer standing in the doorway. He stood frozen in place, looking at me in disbelief that I was actually here. I stood up from my spot on the bed and ran over to give him the biggest hug. I squeezed my arms around his torso and buried my face in his chest. We stood like this for a moment, in the doorway, just familiarizing ourselves with each other once again.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting to do that, Spence."

I finally lifted my head up to get a good look at him while snaking my hands up to cup is face.

"Trust me, I've probably been more desperate to hug you than you have,"

"Oh really?" I asked with raised eyebrows, "you know this isn't a competition right?"

"Oh, I know. But if it was, I would win," he said, with the slightest hint of a playful smirk.

I took Spencer's hand in mine and pulled him over to my spot where I was sitting when he arrived. Our hands stayed connected as we sat side by side on the edge of the bed. While I was admittedly aroused at the thought of finally being able to make love again, all of those thoughts melted away when I finally saw him. Truthfully, I was just happy to spend some quality time with him and give him a break from this awful situation.

"How have you been since the last time I saw you, love?"

"I've been doing okay, mostly trying to keep my head down. I guess you could say I made a friend, though. His name is Calvin Shaw-"

"The agent who killed his informant?!" I exclaimed.

"Well yes, but he's the only one who knows I'm a federal agent and he's been pretty generous. Getting me moved to my own cell, giving me books and playing chess with me."

I gently placed a kiss on his forehead and began to stroke his beautiful veiny hand with my thumb.

"I'm just happy you're not completely alone in there baby"

"I've managed to make some connections, but what's been keeping me going is the thought of seeing you. I've actually been looking forward to this since the last time we spoke. . . and I haven't been able to stop thinking about that letter you sent me."

A wicked smile crept onto my lips as I realized which letter exactly he was referring to.

"Oh that letter! I'm glad you enjoyed it baby, I meant every word. I've been missing you in more ways than one. . ." I said, moving my free hand to his thigh. He inhaled deeply at my touch and his gaze was locked on mine.

"Well you don't have to miss me anymore, love, I'm right here. If we're being honest, I don't think I'll be able to focus on our conversation until I've had my way with you," he said, moving one hand to slide his fingers into my hair. I melted into his touch then I leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

"You can have me, baby, any way you want," I replied, trying my best to look up at him with doe eyes.

He forcefully leaned in to place his lips on mine, and now both of his hands were tugging at my hair. This kiss was passionate, but in a way we've never experienced before. Since we've met, we've never spent more than a few days apart. This kiss was different, it was filled with longing and desperation. Months of going without physical contact has finally led to this moment. The moment when dam finally breaks and the sexual tension that's been building in our written correspondence comes to the surface.

One hand stayed pulling my hair while the other made its way to my breast. Equally touch starved, I moved my hand up his thigh to palm the now evident bulge forming in his pants. He hissed in response and I used then opportunity to force my tongue further into his mouth. He began to suck on it and I moaned into him at the feeling. He abruptly moved from my mouth and started working down towards my neck."

"You know," he said, breathlessly, between kisses "after you sent me that letter, I couldn't help myself. I'm lucky I have my own cell, I had to get some relief or else I would've gone insane."

"You're not the only one baby, " I replied in a daze as he continued tome further down my neck, "I would touch myself at night wishing it was your fingers inside of me."

He grunted at my words and buried his face in my breasts.

"You wore this top just for me didn't you?"

"Mhm, just for you."

"I think it's time we see what's underneath," he said as he pulled the shirt swiftly over my head. My lips crashed back into his and I made quick work of undoing the buttons on his shirt. I wasn't used to seeing Spencer in a white t-shirt, so I soaked up the image as best I could before pulling his shirt off and discarding it on the floor.

"You said you missed my fingers, baby?" I sighed a resounding "yes" before he moved his hands up my skirt, barely brushing his fingertips against my panties. I moaned at the contact, and I felt him smirk against my lips before pushing my panties aside and inserting a digit into my wet folds.

"Fuck, Spencer" I groaned as his long fingers stretched inside me.

"You're so tight, love. You really did miss me stretching you out, didn't you?"

"Yes!" I yelled and he began to pump his fingers in and out.

The room filled with the sounds of our moans and Spencer pumping in and out of me. I could feel a familiar pressure tightening in my abdomen, but I needed more of him. I knew he needed me too because I could see his erection straining through his pants. It's almost as if he read my mind because he removed his fingers and placed them in my mouth.

"Fuck, I need you so badly, (Y/N)," he said as I sucked on his fingers.

Not bothering to take off my skirt, I laid back on the bed as he pushed up the fabric and pulled off my panties. He undid his own pants and threw them haphazardly onto the floor along with his underwear. He brushed his fingers along my now exposed cunt, gathering my arousal on his fingertips.

"You're so wet for me baby, it's driving me insane."

He slid his hard length along my pussy, which earned a moan from the both of us before he pushed the tip into me.

"Oh my god, Spence," I whined. He was stretching me out so well since I haven't had him inside me in weeks.

"Baby you're so tight," he said, letting his mouth hang open in pleasure.

"Please, Spence. . .fuck me," I pleaded. He wasted no time and began to give me deep strokes. I moaned at every thrust, which only motivated him to thrust harder and deeper. His pace became relentless as the tip of his length was now hitting my cervix.

"Fuck, Spencer, come for me. I want you to fill me up, baby."

"Anything for you, love," he said, giving me everything he has.

"I want your babies Spencer, please!" I screamed, knowing full well that I was on the pill and that wasn't going to happen. . . yet.

That was all it took for him to spill his load inside of me. We both became moaning messes as he came. Once he was finished, he rolled off of me and ran to the bathroom to help me clean up. I went to pee, and when I returned, Spencer laid his head on my chest and we sat, cuddled in silence, until nightfall. Under the cover of darkness, I could hear quiet sobs coming from Spencer and I felt little drops of tears on my breasts.

"Baby are you okay? What's wrong my love?" I said, raking my hands through his soft wavy locks.

"I don't want to go back in there," he said, like a child, in barely more than a whisper.

"I wish I could stay here with you indefinitely. I wish I never had to sleep apart from you again. I was trying to be strong for you, (Y/N), but it's so much worse than I imagined."

I didn't press him for details, but I couldn't help but begin to cry in sympathy.

"Listen to me, Spence. I can't even being to understand what you're going through, but you are the strongest person I know. I also know that you have a team of people behind you who love you and will stop at nothing to prove you're innocent. Just remember that every time you're lonely or scared, baby. And we'll keep visiting you and sending you letters and books, anything we can do to keep your mind busy."

"Thank you, my love," he said, slowly rising up to plant a kiss on my lips.

"For better or for worse remember?"

"For better or for worse."

He spent the rest of the night lying on my chest as I stroked his hair and lulled him to sleep, avoiding the dread of being separated in the morning for as long as we could.

_________________________________________

AN: Finally finished this fic omg it was a long time coming. But I've been busy in medical assisting school and this one required a lot more research than my previous works lol. But finally happy with the result and please show it some love. Thanks to all my moots for believing in this :)

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